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lockdown love: how to motivate yourself in the lockdown

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How long is it for you?

6 weeks of lockdown for me. At the start, after a cupboard was cleared each day, the adjustment week break downs, walls painted and after the garden was power washed, I finally found space to focus on my creativity, finish many projects started years ago.

Yesterday I cycled round to my friend’s house (4th time on my bike in past four days, thats four times more than in the past ten years) and said what I had been doing. She said she has no motivation and maybe I could write a blog on how to motivate yourself in this lockdown. She is an extremely high powered career woman who currently can not go to work, so it’s not like she is someone not used to working. And that is ok, do not resist this. TRUST THE PROCESS. You don’t have to be motivated. But if you want to be, read on.

I took the conversation as a sign to write this blog.

  1. The first clue on how to motivate yourself is in this title… LOVE. Lockdown love. Hate all of lockdown? Break it down into smaller parts. Just like if you say you are having a bad day, no you are not having a whole bad day, just a bad MOMENT. So, with lockdown, maybe you are enjoying a lie in? The silence? The birds? Seeing buds grow? New green leaves? Planting seeds? Slowing down a little? The clapping on a Thursday? The blue sky? I know there are some people who are in terrible situations in this lockdown. I am so sorry. Please reach out for help.
  2. If you need to rest, REST. Stop. Try to stop any guilt about stopping too. Like my friend I talk of above, maybe now is your time to rest… AND THAT IS OK! Let yourself off the hook. Eventually you will get fed up and start doing something.
  3. If doing nothing “triggers” you, which is does me, then this is where a TIME TABLE may come in handy. I put one together for the whole week, imagining my week as it was before lockdown, and sticking to it. For example, I have a little 5 year old so Monday is a new school week. We lie in til 8, school 11 – 12.30. Get dressed and brush teeth etc before school. Lunch 12.30 to 2, playtime and packed lunch. Then another school session 2-3.30. Then after school club. With this time structure you can focus more, quality time with your child, or quality time for you. You could also have set food nights. Tonight it’s pizza for us. A timetable keeps you structured and it also helps you remember that day it is!
  4. Make a LIST of jobs to achieve, household jobs, DIY jobs, creative jobs. Pace yourself, one a day is enough.
  5. Only consume things that you love. I guess if this is drugs and drink this may no have been a good thing to say. Try not to become addicted… Please try to focus on your HEALTH. With a pandemic going on it is essential to be healthy so you do not get this virus. Try to take one small step to the you you want to be. I have eaten so much chocolate each night my clothes were starting to not fit. Put on your jeans! Going on my bike has seemed to help the chocolate situation as I guess it releases endorphins or something, just like the chocolate does. Eat your food as medicine so you don’t have to each medicine as food. If you put rubbish into your body you are going to feel rubbish.
  6. MUSIC… I have written many times about the power of music. I think it helps form new healthy neuro pathways quicker and better. thats why music lyrics stay in your head. So make sure you are listening to good, healthy lyrics. MAKE YOURSELF PLAYLIST. I have one on Spotify called BELIEVE to reprogram my head when I am feeling terrible. Recently I have even been remembering to PUT THE PLAYLIST ON. Making a playlist and not listing to it is a bit like joining a gym and not going to the gym. Think of music as a gym for your mind. SING. I put head phones on as I cycle and practise trying to sing well as I move, its good for the breathing. (I am not meant to go out as I have severe asthma.)
  7. DO A RANDOM ACT OF KINDNESS. If you are finding it hard to do sobering for yourself, do something for someone else. You could make some happiness jars for people. I have made little hanging white clay hearts with a rainbow ribbon and a motivating and kind, compassionate word on (love, BRAVE, connect, happiness, learn, rediscover, kindness, practise gratitude, be bolder, unify, passion, MIRACLE, and I lave them on benches for people to find. Pay for someones shopping.
  8. VISUALISE your motivation, visualise what you used to do for your self care. I have had to give up my shopping addiction. I lived right next door to the best charity shop in Exeter, Force in Heavitree (I call it “the magical charity shop” as whatever I want would appear in there, if I was patient enough). I went in there pretty much every day for 20 years. The days i did not go in was de to it being closed. The middle isles at Aldi and Lidl were also amazing distraction for me. Shopping was my stress relief, gliding around the shops, tuning into the seasons in some twisted marketing way. Feeling joy as I found something I love (this hardly ever happens, which is why I am creating my own empire). Instead I now visualise myself in the shop, as I write a list for my big girl to go to get food with (i have severe asthma, not meant to go out). Visualise finding the coffee in the right place, then bread products and cereal, then pasta and sauces, you get the idea. If you are missing going to the gym, visualise that you are in the gym and exercise. If you used to go to the cinema as a stress relief, have a proper movie night with pop, popcorn and darkness, even in the day. If you miss going out for drinks, do as my big girl does and have an online pub quiz with your friends, dress up and get a bottle of wine in.
  9. Find your PASSION. You will be more motivated if you do something you are passionate about. So, ff you want to do a big project, listen to your heart. You can only listen to your heart when you are still. We have a lot of time to be still now, don’t we. Your heart is so powerful it does not need to shout. It has a soft voice, a voice that comes from the heart centre of your body. Be still and ask your heart what it wants, what its passion is, what it loves, your literal hearts desire. A conversation between the heart and your head, and when your gut centre is also in line with heat and head (gut centre is about fear and overcoming fear) you will be pretty much aligned. TRUST YOUR OWN WISDOM.
  10. After doing the above exercise, MIND MAP like crazy. Put it all down on paper. Inspire yourself. Inspire means to breathe in life. Then, and this is the key thing, let it all go. Let it go and let the universe take care of it all. Doing this is a practice, and it means you have to practice every day, as in you have to PRACTICE! Practice means “the actual application or use of an idea, belief, or method, as opposed to theories relating to it”. All this above is just theory.

So, there you go! Please let me know in the comments below what you think, how you motivate yourself, or how you get on.

Stay safe x jen

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summer term: home school without losing your cool

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I posted this last night and had to delete as i got woken (as usual) and could not get back to sleep. The fear comes at 3am, do any of you find that? worrying what people will think…. but i am not going to let this demon beat me again. if you hate what i am writing please still be kind.

A teacher went viral on 17th April, writing to parents saying that “Don’t stress about schoolwork. In September, I will get your children back on track. That is my superpower. What I cant fix is social-emotional trauma that prevents the brain from learning. So right now, I just need you to share your calm, share your strength, and share your laughter with your children. No kids are ahead, no kids are behind. Your children are exactly where they need to be.” (N.B. I do not know which wise teacher wrote this, if you do please comment below)

i am doing my best. so, here goes…

Any of you who follow me or regularly read my posts will know that I am in recovery from whats professionally called a maladaptive coping strategy, a self harming behaviour I have had/done for 40 years (as I have a form of complex trauma).

This behaviour was made worse by my sudden launch into single parenthood after being in abusive relationships. I never ever wanted to be a single parent (again) as I found it way, way too hard the first time, I knew it would cause me more harm.

Here I am trying to thrive in a new sunny home (my last house I was stuck in for 20 years had no sunlight in it at all). My little girl finally starting school, and finally some time for me, to get healthy. More healthy. I was going to yoga. I was going to church. I was going to therapy. I was going to metallisation based training. I was trying to rebuild myself into a better version of me.

I had a really strict routine each day to keep me ok, and keep my little one ok. She wakes me EVERY night, at least 3 times and has been doing so since she arrived on the planet. Actually she kept me awake way before she arrived on the planet, before she was even made. I pretty much did not sleep at all. Now I take medication. I used to do mediTation, but sometimes you have to change the T for a C. There is no shame in that.

Anyway, I am giving up my destructive habit of a lifetime and her going to school was a lifeline for me. So when they shut I was highly so worried that I would relapse. To help my self care, I am still keeping a pretty strict routine, which I am going to share with you now. At week four, have you discovered a routine too? it was so hard week too, I felt so tense, and the behaviour started again.

Today is the first day back at homeschool for summer term. We are blessed enough (thanks to God) to have been given a house with a separate dining room. It becomes the school room Monday to Friday and then it becomes the church Sunday. I am so blessed not to be in that tiny little dark house I was stuck in for 20 years.

I do appreciate that some of you will indeed be stuck in a tiny house. If this is the case, try to section off a section of the room you have as a school area, even if it is just the table. Pretend it is school. This sectioning really really helps provide some inner structure.

I am classed as severe asthma and so I am stuck in for another 8 weeks I guess.

have you home schoolers made a weekly plan? i don’t follow the school routine, we don’t HAVE to. my little girl is only 5, she is thriving. so we do what we can. I am a trained teacher but for adult education. it really has pushed me out of my comfort zone, as i am sure it has you too.

anyway, here is my weekly plan…

First of all, chose a home school topic for the week. I asked my girl this morning what the theme was to be and she said “Beyonce” and I said “ok!”. at first i was a bit worried, but then i thought this will teach my mixed race daughter about strong black role models, about feminism. you can never be too young to start, don’t you think? already cause of singing miss polly had a dolly and the doctor not being made female, my 5 year old thinks that doctors are male. miss polly had a doozy should definitely be framed as a female, the doctor came with her bag and her hat and she knocked on the door with a ra-ta-tat-tat. our doctor is female for this very reason.

Monday AM… long lie in, til 9 if lucky, coffee in bed with daughter watching stuff on phone. I generally don’t do anything until I have had my coffee, just the one a day after detoxing in January. School session in the AM is from 11-12, so we aim to get washed, teeth brushed, and dressed for school at ten. My daughter sometimes even wears her school uniform, but I do not enforce this, but as “teacher” I definitely do enforce the teeth brushing as cover cavity is sure to become a thing. The first Beyonce lesson is on “The history of Beyonce”. We have been keeping a large a4 bound journal to keep all her school activities in during this lockdown. For example, writing to be done, numbers, pictures. I think to have a document of corona times would be very interesting in the future. My big girl (yes I am lucky enough to have a second “teacher” in lockdown, back from university, otherwise I would be on more medication, and I do utterly get how hard it is alone, I really do) does the first lesson. After, they show me what they have done, all noted in the book: Beyonce’s full name, what her name means (beyond others), where it came from, the names of her parents, her age, how many children she has, where she is from. They have looked that up on the globe we have, USA, they have spelt out Houston, found out Houston is near Disneyland. I ask if Beyonce spent a lot of time at Disney land as a little girl. But we will need to find that out another day. We find out she has made 170 ish songs, that she sang with Destinys Child age 16. The next couple of pages in the journal book are a print out of the gloriousQueen Bey in a long sparkly dress, Zaria has added a crown and some extra sparkle, and then drawn her own version on the opposite page. Zaria, whilst doing all this has been wearing her own crown and her own sparkly dress, her own sparkly shoes. She tries my only remaining pair of high heels (i used to have loads), golden glittery ones. Maybe I should try them on, once along to single ladies in them. Get my power back.

Monday lunchtime… 12-2 my little girl likes to have an actual packed lunch made, or a jacket potato like she would be having a school. Then time to play after. I go out on my bike for 20 minutes.

Monday PM… it’s meant to be yoga 2-3. Now if my 5 year old was going to school I would be free to go to yoga on a Monday, so I try to keep this schedule a little. I have a yoga DVD, but there are loads of things online for free. I usually hoover the yoga room, the living room, and plug in the atomiser, and put out two mats, and I force myself to do the DVD. In the early days of lockdown I thought “oh wow, doing yoga with Zaria will be amazing” and “I can teach her mindfulness and stillness” but in reality she just gets bored and so do I, sometimes sitting on the sofa to look at my phone. But today as we are doing Beyonce I ask Zaria what she wants to do (anything to get out of yoga) and suggest baking. We decide to look at what Beyonce eats, we google “what is her favourite biscuit?” But nothing comes up, maybe we should have said cookie. We do find out that she does not eat snacks, no puddings, no junk food but she does allow herself popcorn and pizza one day a week. We find out she eats lots of leafy greens, lots of fish, and we learn a new word, hydrated, as she likes to keep hydrated. I think it is a good nutrition lesson for Zaria. We listen to Beyonce tunes in the kitchen whilst baking. I have never really listened to Beyonce, as in really listened. I did dream I was Beyonce and sang like her once after tuning my chakras (see previous post). I still have not listened to Lemonade, but I know Beyonce made it as life gave her lemons. Maybe making actual lemonade could be a lesson. I listen to songs that used to remind me of past hideous loves, Halo, such a beautiful song and video, how could I ever wishful think that song about some hideous man? We listen to single ladies, we dance, I sweat, I feel powerful, the best thing you never had, and I especially listen to If I were a Boy which I find gives me goosebumps. We make gingerbread. It is hard, I am not going to lie to you, it is hard to play teacher, I could never ever actually home school, I don’t understand how teachers do it, and Zaria’s actual lovely first teacher absolutely loves it, stating that she even misses the kids now they are not allowed to go! It is hard, Zaria moans, the making of a mess drives me insane, I hate getting my hands in the sticky mess. I try to halt the negative thoughts, manage the mess, washing dishes, putting things away so I can cope. Zaria keeps on putting on crazy in love and we start to shake the little containers of sprinkles and dance and laugh. You have to make it fun. She even gets the instruments out, recorder, bongos, tambourine.

We have a marble jar to motivate her and keep her behaviour good. This is an idea from her actual school. When the chidden do good work they get a marble put into the marble jar. When the jar is full they have a “marble party”. saying this, i do try to set aside any feeling of superiority. this helps to build good connection. she teaches me so much herself, we are both teachers.

Afterschool club 3-5.30 involves the swing, the trampoline, jigsaws, fun, sun and quality time playing. Without this quality time I get utterly bored playing and end up looking at my phone. Exercise also incorporated into this time. I also try to make sure I do something creative for me, some job the needs doing, like the windows, painting something, fixing something, but sometimes these activities can be made into a life lesson during school time in the week, for example gardening. Right at the start of the isolation I bought an electric piano for £60 off gumtree. We have hardly even plugged it in. But the other day I moved it to the window of the room we see the sunsets from and I do at least imagine myself playing it as the sunsets. You could, in after school club, incorporate some sort of club into the club, you know like a dancing club, like piano, like baking, football, art, whatever. For an hour. These pockets of quality time REALLY DO HELP. Believe me. Today we decide to watch Beyonce Homecoming, before you think that is ay too grown up for a little girl it is edited my her big sister, no “bad” word, except she does ask us what a DIVA is and what a HUSTLER is…

The rest of the week will hopefully go something like this…

Tuesday AM… like Monday with the coffee and phone, more history lessons, who influenced Beyonce. Powerful black women.

Tuesday PM… 2-3 gardening club, so I get some gardening work done.

Afterschool club fun and exercise

Wednesday AM… music/singing lesson

Wednesday PM… yoga 2-3

Afterschool club as above, with a walk or cycle or roller boots session.

Thursday AM… Beyonce dance routines

Thursday PM… who knows… numbers? “If Beyonce asks three single ladies to put their hands up, how many fingers will there be?” (this is from big girl and i am still laughing about it). “If Beyonce has a pizza and it has 8 slices, and she eats 3, and Blue Ivy has two slices, how much is left for Jay-Z?”

Afterschool club… by then I am losing my mind. so i try to do something for me as well as her. she pretends to be a queen and i read my magazine.

Friday AM… yoga again, see above, I will teach her mindfulness and quietness!

Friday PM… baking, making lots of tasty treats for the weekend, if they last that long!

After after school club Friday it’s pizza night, as a reward for the week. I so look forward to pizza night. I like to mark the days by meals as it helps me feel like there is a structure and I am somehow held by the days, by the routine.

Try not to be too rigid in your routine, as it will stress you out more. Stress is not the goal here. The goal is to enjoy, to be in-joy. one day at a time.

Do not focus too much on the actual learning outcomes, even though my girl’s reading has come on leaps and bounds since starting the routine, and her numbers too so much better.

From this routine I can go to bed feeling like I have achieved something. Then this helps me not to hurt myself at night, it helps me to not think I have been a bad mother, or crappy thoughts like that. It helps me think I have done my best, I have been in-joy, mindfully enjoying the day. Been in play with my child. It helps me sleep ok, then wake ok not dreading the day.

Let me know how you are coping with home schooling the the comments below. thanks for reading. jen x

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isolation creation: happiness jar

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Does anyone know about the happiness jar idea?

It could be called a mindfulness jar, or a joy jar.

It is normally started on new years day, which wrote a blog about a couple of years ago.

I have decided to re write this as I think it is an excellent way to try keep you and your household ok in these challenging times.

We are having to create a new way of living.

What makes you happy is personal to you. But basically it is something that made you smile, laugh or excited. It could be a kind act that you see in life around you or online, a kind word you said to someone, something beautiful… something wonderful… these are all things that make me happy.

What would your list be like?

So, here is what you do in 5 easy steps…

  1. Take a jar, could be an empty clean jam jar to start with, before you are allowed to go out and buy a bigger one! Keep the lid. Put a label on it called “The happiness jar” or “joy jar”. Stick on with sellotape.
  2. Cut up or tear up little bits of blank paper, recycled from envelopes etc if possible. These should be about 2 or 3cm square, or just a random small size. You may have a lot of time on your hands so if you want to cut up 2 or 3cm squares perfectly go for it!!
  3. Put the pieces in the jar, along with a small pen or pencil if you can find one small enough to put in the jar.
  4. Keep the jar on your table so that when it comes to mealtime you can remember it, or somewhere you can see it like next to the TV, on the mantlepiece, next to the TV, next to the kettle. Write down two (or more) things that made you happy that day. For example, when my little girl was dressed for world book day as Hermione Granger with her cape, I asked her to do a spell Hermione would do and she said “asparagus”… and it made me laugh all day long, I wrote it down and put it in the jar. Or having a bath and listening the birds in the garden. Or Chris Martin doing a Facebook live from his house when in isolation! It really can be that simple. You will find that you have to force yourself to do this at times, on days when happiness is hard to see but it is still there, it is just your mind that has stopped seeing it.
  5. Date the memory with the month and year. Put in the jar. put the lid back on.

The jar is normally opened on or just before New Years eve. I really look forward to it. But you could open it when isolation is over. Remember how some really subtle but precious things happened, a new way of living for some.

I keep the little paper memories and put them all in a sealed envelope marked with the year. Or if you journal stick them in your journal. It is like planting happiness seeds to grow new better ways of living and being.

 

I made a collection of jars with the labels on and paper and pen in outside my house, with a sign saying free happiness and a set of instructions on what to do. it is such a beautiful idea to share around.

Please let me know what you think in the comments and if you have given it a go. Add your pictures of your little pieces of paper. We are all in this together. you will find that your happiness is in the smallest of things.

Stay well x jen

ps: i have not written a blog for nearly two years. this is mainly cause someone left a hideous anonymous comment on my last post and it really destroyed me for a while. i think we have come a long way in accepting mental health disability now but to that person… what else did you do for fun back then? Wait around disabled parking places and tell whoever parks there that they are only doing it for the parking? My next blog is probably about what makes a troll troll. though i am hoping with sad events like the death of caroline flack people are actually learning to be more kind.

 

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from self harm to selfie, 2: meet your fairy god mother

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so today, after dropping zaria off to nursery at 9am, with me like a zombie, eyes so sore as i have hurt them continuously each day for over two weeks, so upset and desperate as a single mother with no family help (that phrase is a broken record in my head), all i do when i get back home today is listen to a little bit of russell brand’s new best seller list book ‘recovery’, thanks russell. and then get into bed with the hope that yes, once again i escape into dreams. i think i have done this three times since being on my own with zaria. i shall not feel guilty.

the other morning i was in a vogue fashion shoot. surrounded by utter beauty, like the whole scene is filmed with a filter, they gave me a makeover, a new hair cut my hair is actually down and done, amazing well fitting rich clothes on a trim body, some good lighting. and i could look in the mirror. more than this, i liked looking in the mirror. i can smile at myself, i looked a sneaky peek at the corner of the mirror and i thought “oh, theres the real me…’ an air brushed version of me, a thinner, more happy me like every metre of the depression pit is removed with every inch of unwanted fat. kylie jenner was there also looking beautiful, with her little baby belly and we were joking and becoming friends. anna wintour walked past at some point. oh, how my dreams differ so very much from reality. i was not afraid of my photo being taken.

Q. what has started me off on this self destructive path yet again?

it is important as you try to get better, and recover from whatever it is you are struggling with, to retrace your footsteps, retrace the path, the external events and especially retrace the thoughts. where did the change in thoughts happen?

i was so happy. but i will let you into a little secret… external events were playing a part. i was only really at the core happy as he was back in contact. i mean i had managed to claw my way up out of the pit again a little bit by myself, even started running which was boosting my levels of good feeling thoughts and tackling my on going issue of too much weight. i was listening to my happy playlist, even when i felt anything but. i was chopping down new happy neuropathways with nothing except my own determination, pulling up weeds, being beyonce and singing from my soul. i am a powerful manifestor. god has heard my prayers. the law of attraction is attraction what i know i deserve. he gets in contact and of course all this talk again of change, i love you, i miss you, and wanting to be a family and to be together and christmas (a child is not just for christmas, if you are reading this L). i am not sucked in initially, not at all. Not at all. in fact quite the opposite. but those happy levels do increase as i do think my original dream is coming true, i will have the family i always wanted, one dream that without this man in it means i will never ever get it. some dreams do have an expiry date.

so when contact is abruptly stopped yet again by him, it is like i have been pushed back into the pit. just as i was climbing out, think to that shot in game of thrones, episode one, where whats his name is pushed off the wall. i fall right back down. landing on shattered  pieces of the dream. shattered pieces of my heart, grief, this is grief, it helps to give it a name, there has been a death, my dream has died and like any death of something you loved so so much if it came back into your life would you not try to hold it again? i am in fragments. again like cinderella who can not believe anymore and runs to the garden to cry, sobbing painfully hard that she can’t believe anymore and then the fairy godmother appears.

zaria calls cinderella Sillyrella, and i feel i am such a fool for going back to this dream. and there is anger as no fairy godmother appears. anger at the world, when is it my chance? anger at being stuck, trapped. squashed, same situation for 18 years. so powerless, and just so very tired of trying. help me help me help me. make something good happen. thinking of what is missing rather than what i have.

and so i rub my eyes, how else can i express how i am. i start rubbing my face to stop me rubbing my eyes. the itch scratch cycle starts again. round and round in circles, unable to go out, desperate to go out, desperate for help.

this time there has been more tears though, this is good. i was unable to cry for decades.

this time i just wait it out, wait for the feelings to pass, as i know they do pass. but it takes longer this time.

this time i sleep if i need to, i eat crap if i want to (I dont) and i try to put myself back on tracks.

this time generally my dreams are amazing, i must be healed on some level  these dreams are the thing that gets me writing. i believe in my own story.

this time a shooter killed almost 60 people in Las Vegas. i stop thinking so much about me.

the self, selfish, self obsession, self depression ego state finally dissolves, yes dissolves, like a dense mist clearing i would say. yes i try to change my thoughts and pretend but the happiness of two weeks ago seems like a dream in itself, i can’t get back to it. please stop telling me to not believe my thoughts for it is not the thoughts but the reality that is real and i am sick of trying to try.

just be with me whilst the mist clears. know there is a plan for me, a way out of the misery.

let me just lay on the bench being cinderella stuck in a fucking fairytale crying with no fairy godmother appearing to dress me in amazing clothes and do my hair and makeup and let me like what i see in the mirror, like in my dream. let me be in ptsd mode.

i am sick of writing it now, and no doubt you are sick of reading it if you are one who is blessed to not know what i am talking about…

but, if you resonate with this… you will manage to climb up the pit again… you will.

 

  1. give yourself time. actually give sometime to care for you. what do you need?
  2. tune in to a higher power (who i was pleading to help me two days ago) tune back into the universe.
  3. tune back in to the knowledge of your path
  4. know that there is a path, your unique one. get back on it
  5. pause for gratitude, gratitude, gratitude… the magic ingredient, the magic, seeing the magic and being thankful for it all. (the photo on this blog even popped up as a picture on my instagram with the fairy godmother on it. the fairy godmother is gratitude.)

 

if you are struggling, please share your struggles. there are good people out there who get it and who listen. be kind to yourself. i will listen to you.

tonight is a full moon, write down on a piece of paper what you would like to let go of, and on other piece what you would like to bring into your life. then, in a safe place outside, burn your lists and KNOW that the universe is taking care of it all.

 

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the tiger who came to tea

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it may seem strange that a psychotherapist who is trained to be a kind of mysterious figure is so open about their own mental health struggles. i am doing this to be part of the action to remove stigma from mental health.

i am breaking free of complex ptsd.

in my last blog i was the bravest i have been. a bit like baring my soul online. and it did cause me a little upset, i did scratch at myself a little… what would people think??  i was out of my comfort zone. but someone told me recently that out of their comfort zone was where they felt comfortable, and so i took on this frame of reference and hey presto, i did it (thank you lois diamond! #theonewomanarmy.com)

so…
I am in my house.
My sister is also in my house, as is zaria (my little girl).
It is late evening, dark.

I realise a tiger is trying to get in the house with us.

I am so worried, terffiyed. My sister does not even acknowledge or hear me, let alone help. But she knows there is a tiger trying to get in. she is helping with zaria.
I phone for help. I can’t get any help over the phone.

The tiger is silent and pacing. not exactly aggressive.not exactly happy, just waiting to be let in.
There is no way it can get in the house anyway, all the windows are locked and the door is closed. why am i worried?

But then I realise that the door has broken off the hinges.
I desperately try to get it back in place. My sister does not help and is not even worried. she can not help me with my pain.
I am frantic, so panicked. i am going to die. zaria will be killed. I think I shall be scratched to death by the tiger.
it will eat me.

The glass also comes out of the door leaving a huge open gap for the tiger to jump through.
I realised I am beaten. and the tiger is going to get in. I resign myself to it. I await my fate.
And in the tiger walks. calmly.
No threat. Rather like the tiger who came to tea, in the beautiful children’s book by Judith Kerr. Slightly angry, it mooches around a bit. Eats a lot! And then it leaves again.

This is my second tiger dream. Oh my the first one was so amazing. It must of happened ten years ago. A tiger who came through the open doors late at night, when I was almost ready for bed in a beautiful flowing nightgown. the tiger got up on its hind legs and it pulled me into my feet and together it we waltz around the room. I can still feel it’s paw on the small of my back. breath taking, sensual. A meeting of my power animal. I am the year of the tiger in the chinese zodiac. A dream telling me to tune into my tiger energy. be powerful.

so, how to work out your dreams? try this simple method. everything in your dream is a metaphor. look at your dream like it’s a painting.

Three words for this first tiger?
Sensual
Passionate
Powerful

But this dream last night was slightly different in energy for the tiger. What three words would I have to describe this tiger?
Angry
Threatening
not wanted

and it represents my self. every part of every dream represents you, the dreamer. and currently i am trying to keep anger out, as anger leads me to hurt my skin. it is threatening and i do not invite it.

but when i left anger in it is not a dangerous as i thought it would be. it is an energy that is there to help me. when i let it in and stay calm and breathe with it, it leaves, as the tiger left. trying to stop it coming actually was creating more stress and worry than when i let it in. it reminds me of the wonderfully enlightened poem by Rumi.

The Guest House by Rumi

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honourably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

so welcome in your tigers, your anger, your hurts and sadness, the demons that may hurt you. do not fight them, this will use too much precious energy. invite those tigers in for tea. Notice them, be kind to them, talk to them, listen to them and maybe even one day laugh with them. Have tea and cake.

And do not be afraid.

 

Please direct message me if you want any help working out what a special dream is saying to you.

or please write your dream bin the comments and i shall get back to you and try help you work out what it is saying.

#dreams #psychotherapy #psychotherapist #beinggenuine #real #authentic #synchronisity #lawofattraction #psychotherapist #mentalhealthblogger  #ptsd #complexptsd #healing #synchronisity #thetigerwhocametotea

Screen Shot 2017 08 01 at 15.34.26

being genuine

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i wanted to share with you what i battle with on a near daily basis.

there reason i want to share this with you is so that you lose a little of the fear of what people will think of you. i have lost a little of that fear, but even so the other day someone i have known for years deleted me from Facebook , but i am learning to say fuck it more, even though this is a concept quite alien to me and i always think i shall get told off for swearing.

 

So I am sitting in Waitrose. There is so much I cld write, but I feel like I am going to cry. I try to stay in the present moment, sitting in the corner. I, unlike Baby, like being in the corner. From here I can see it all and no one can be watching me from behind. I feel safe in the corner.

 

I listen to a couple of old dears talking about how they have to pick up their sushi from the sushi bar. I write things in my diary to help me feel like I am busy. I have put a line through all Tuesday afternoons whilst Zaria is at nursery to try get jenuine.co.uk going more. I can’t hear any other conversations to distract myself from the fact I do want to cry. Fresh back from Brighton yesterday, proud of myself for managing to feel anxiety free to do the trip, to do the drive (5 hours), to have managed a night without hurting my skin, my eyes (thank you mirtzapine) But I want to cry.

 

Writing that now has made wanting to cry even worse. There is now a tear on my left eye. I can’t cry here in the corner, in Waitrose. And what normally happens is by the time I get home, safe to cry, I won’t cry. I know that the lifelong harming of my eyes is something I started instead of crying. Don’t cry. Don’t be sad. What have you got to be sad about. It’s all about you. Don’t cry or I will give you something to cry about. And then when that something has happened, still don’t cry. Tears can make you confused. Tears can make you angry. you’re too sensitive. you’re too weak.

So here in Waitrose, listen to the chatter, to the laughter, to the coffee machine doing its thing, listen to life. Try to see some colours… play the Game of Fives. Bring my back to the present moment.

Five things I can hear… the man collecting the trays with the China chinging, the near and distant chatter, the coffee machine gurgling, The air conditioning unit rumbling, chairs being dragged over the floor.

Five things I can smell… the chemical spray as the tables are cleaned. My coffee. Fresh air through the open door. The wanting of wine. Imaginary cigarette smoke.

Five colours I can see… black outfits, there is a distinct lack of colour in here, grey chairs, off white tables, a yellow beware of wet floor sign, a green escape sign on the ceiling.

I would like to escape. The man in the sign is running. I would like to run and cry. I would like to run and breathe out this pain. Writing that makes me want to cry more. I would like to run, run and scream, run away from the tears. Out run the flow. Run away from myself.

Some days, most days, it is like there is this sadness trapped deep inside me, somewhere, possibly it is the heart area. A darkness, something that makes it hard to breathe, a sludge like mud you can wade through, or get stuck in and sink and drown. Nothing I do ever makes it go away: but maybe if I run. I am trying to get to know the sludge more and more. I feel there may be something precious hidden deep down there. Buried treasure. Gems. A gift.

Why am I sad? It is a year since he left. The trauma of that, the broken dream. The dream I folded up and tucked away in my last journal. without a choice, a new chapter started.

I dab my eyes with my top. I am not going to swallow this sadness down with wine and I am not going to put up a smoke screen with cigarettes. I want to know these tears. I want to know this sadness. I want to understand how it has left me covered in scars. I want to be able to cry, these eyes that are so damaged from me rubbing them away since the age of 6 or 7.

The medication helps. I sleep. I sleep so so well, sometimes I feel too well. The other night I slept through the biggest storm I have known Exeter has had. I would have liked to have experienced that energy. But the sleep is so good. I still have the odd dream, a dream that will speak to me, like I have written here. It is so good to have a break from my head, safe in my bed. Head hits pillow, sleep, wake up in sensible morning.

This safety thing is big for me. I want to feel safe. I do not think I have ever ever felt it in any relationship, family friends and partners. So yes safe with my girls, definitely safe with my daughters so that is something. So here is what happened a year ago, a year and 3 days… if I write it and publish it maybe it will lose its power over me… if they ever make a film of my life this will be an important scene. but the pain, the ptsd, was there before he came along.

It is a year and four days since he left in the cruel way he did.

We were in town, he was going to pay me the last bit of money he owed from what he had stolen from me. I was so happy. i loved that man. i had my little family dream. he left me with a kiss, he said that he wld go to bank to get that money and also deposit for amazing holiday to Jamaica we had booked. He was saying about getting married there. He said he wld be 5 minutes. He said make sure my phone was on loud. I smiled and said ok.

And I went to shop to buy some holiday things. I waited for the phone to ring. I waited in the same place he left me. I got worried he wld be angry if I was not in the right place if I moved too far from where I was. I waited and waited with our little girl in her buggy.

I was so so happy that morning. I felt like all the pain and lies and abandoning were over. That we had finally made it to the end and the start of a proper life. I waited and waited. I waited.

I started to feel sick. no, i told myself, no he won’t have done that. no, it’s ok. but I started to feel like I was going to cry. The city centre was busy and hot and people were smiling and laughing… summer holidays, as my world fell apart. the cracks started to form and i had to sit down, i sat outside Pret a mange, a band played. the band started to play a song… the song was called cocaine… cocaine… cocaine… and I thought it was some cruel joke. I thought I was in the truman show. i could not breathe. Being filmed for a real reaction of when your world falls apart. I shattered. I unravelled. Yes, to that song I realised he had gone off with his one true love, Charlie, the one he spend all his money on. The one that wld make him smile. The one who he wld abandon us for. I would be lucky if I ever got bought a coffee. He wld sniff her up like she was the best thing he had ever smelt… cocaine. we have not seen him since. Next day he left for Birmingham. Drug Debts made him run. charlie made him run away with her. 

 

the worst day of my life, maybe. I never saw it coming at all, blindsided, even with all the lies before. He has not seen his daughter for a year. Part of the ptsd work I have been doing at exeter university mood disorders clinic is to tell the story without it having such emotional power of me. So here it is. Still can’t believe the band played that song. sometimes i am happy the band played that song, it makes me feel as though there is some synchronicity in it all, like god may be watching over me.

 

I walk home, not run. i count blue things that i see. there are many blue things. stay in today. just keep breathing. be true to you. today i have also started a course, a “30 day Empath Starter Programme”, from Carla Gadyt at http://ajourneybacktoself.com

and i hope it helps me reclaim my broken pieces with gold and rejoice in my sensitivity.

#complexposttraumaticstressdisorder #ptsd #surviving #days #crying #tryingtocry #innerchild #mindfulness #breathe #presentmoment #recovery #cocaine #addiction #al-anon #NAfamilygroup #stayintoday