Week Four in the Mad House

            So I have survived another week in the mad house, making my time there a total of four weeks. Community meeting on Monday morning saw my admission of self-harming the night before and a futile discussion about the person who didn’t turn up on the Thursday before. Community meeting followed by small group which was much the same as always; we sat in a group and talked about things and most of it was dominated by the same person. By lunch little of note had happened.

            After lunch was art therapy, which I have already established as my worst session, but I had decided to try and have a at it. The session always starts with everyone discussing the work from the previous week. People commented on mine and asked me how I felt about it. I said that it had been stubborn and I had been trying to prove a point but that I would, in future, try harder in the art sessions. Somehow, what was supposed to be a positive thing turned into yet another argument and, though I had intended to try not to rise to it and meet aggression with aggression, I admit that I reverted to my old habit of fighting back. I was already angry and upset with myself about the weekend and cutting myself the night before and so, when people started having a go at me, I got upset. At some point the argument abated and we got on with the art bit of the session. I drew a TARDIS. For the most part my reason behind that choice was because I like Doctor Who but the more I thought about it I realised that the TARDIS does have some symbolic meaning; it is bigger on the inside which feels like me because I do have a lot to give but it’s all on the inside and I don’t always show it on the outside. Also, the chameleon filter on the TARDIS is broken, which means it is always stuck as a police telephone box, and sometimes it feels like I am permanently stuck as this fat, pathetic, depressed person but I don’t want to be.

            After the time for doing art was up we had to sit and discuss what we had done. Unfortunately this discussion just resulted in further arguments because it appears that some community members think that there is a divide between the two small groups. One person in particular went as far as to say that they thought that some of the members in the small group that I’m in seem to get more attention because they cry or get aggressive or storm out. This upset a few people and when it was nearly time for the session to end, though the therapist hadn’t actually called time, the person who had said that some people were just attention seeking walked out. Half a minute later the therapist called time and the rest of the community left the room but by that time the person who had stormed out had already gone home. I left to go home feeling absolutely rubbish because I felt like all the arguments had been my fault and that everyone thought I was just an attention seeker. I know that isn’t completely true and that it was just my paranoia making me think that but I do often think that I am just an attention seeker and I felt really persecuted by the guy.

            On the Tuesday morning I really didn’t want to go back to the mad house. I felt paranoid and anxious and didn’t want to be around people, but I made myself go and face everyone. The guy who had stormed out of art the day before, however, did not turn up which only served to make me feel even worse. In the community meeting I apologised to the rest of the community for my behaviour in art but I had really wanted to apologise to the guy who had stormed out, so I was annoyed that he hadn’t turned up and I thought that he was just being childish. Large group therapy was difficult. The general atmosphere was so tense and, although no arguments broke out, it was a horrible place to be and was really anxiety-provoking. Everyone was really glad to get out of the room when time was called and when it came to TBC I was pleased that it was housekeeping because it meant that I could do something active rather than just sitting around talking.

            That afternoon was awareness which just makes me think of PSHE in school or something. The session started, as usual, with a couple of warm-up games then it was decided that the main topic would be a role-play around the theme of assertiveness, especially when dealing with receptionists at doctors’ surgeries. We had already done something about assertiveness recently but I didn’t complain because it meant that I could just sit back and watch and it was far removed from the frustrations and the conflicts of the day before. Awareness went rather quickly and again I was glad to get away at the end of the day and go home.

            On Wednesday morning I didn’t want to go in again, but again I made myself. The guy who walked out on Monday afternoon was back but community meeting did little to deal with the fact that he had walked out and then not even come in on the Tuesday. He said that he wanted to leave the programme completely and that he had only come in to talk about leaving because people had asked him to. This made me feel even worse and my brain kept telling me that it was all my fault – I really need to sort out this paranoia because it’s driving me insane. I had wanted to bring it in to small group but struggled to find an appropriate gap in the flow of the conversation. Again I got frustrated because one person just seemed to dominate the entire session – like always – and another person just sulked and said he wanted the group to vote him out because he didn’t want to be there anymore, which I just thought was him being childish and wanting to know that people cared and wanted him to be there. To be honest I’m getting rather sick of middle-aged men having temper tantrums – they’re just acting like two-year-olds.

            After lunch was working party. I had thought that we had reached some kind of conclusion on the subject we had been discussing the week before but apparently other people thought otherwise. The conversation started to turn into another argument and I was getting extremely frustrated with people just talking over each other. By the end of it I just wanted to leave the mad house and never go back. I probably sound like such a drama queen but I am getting really pissed off with the place and sometimes I just can’t take all the stress and the arguing. After working party it was PAG which actually went quite well because there was a potential new member there so the session was pretty much spent doing her assessment so I didn’t have to do or say anything. After group was also pretty uneventful. Everyone was tired and just wanted to leave so when time was called everyone was glad to get out of there – especially me.

            On Thursday morning after community meeting it was reviews. That day was the review of the guy who had walked out of art on the Monday. People had managed to persuade him to stay for his review and I was actually glad that he was there because, though he had acted childishly, so had I and I wanted to apologise to him for shouting at him on Monday. By the end of the reviews I felt a little better because I had been able to apologise and the guy had come up to me and said thanks for doing so. Check-out and lunch were good and, before I knew it, it was the end of my fourth week in the mad house.

            I am planning on going in tomorrow, so I should probably go and get some sleep now. But before I do; a couple of prayer requests. Prayers for the week ahead would be greatly appreciated and please pray about my current struggles with paranoia; it’s really bothering me. Also, please pray that I don’t get so frustrated and annoyed with people so quickly and that I can learn to manage those feelings better. Last week was a real lesson for me in patience and in not fighting back when people push me – I still have to work on those things – but I am getting there slowly and maybe, with the help of the therapy programme, I’ll start to get better.

Thanks and God bless

KV

Brighton

            Last Friday I travelled down to Brighton from York in order to attend a friend’s wedding on the Saturday. I was extremely anxious about the trip for several reasons. The journey itself made me anxious as I was worried that the coach or trains might be delayed or something. Then there was the fact that only was it the first time that I had been to Brighton since I moved home, but it was the first time I had been away from home on my own, even for a weekend, in over a year. Finally, I was anxious about seeing people after such a long time. There are a few people with whom I have kept in touch and I was really looking forward to seeing them. I was also really looking forward to seeing my friend Ana get married. But I have missed so much over the last year and I have also changed somewhat in that time, so I was nervous about seeing people in case they didn’t want to see me or didn’t like me anymore. I know these thoughts are irrational but I really struggle with paranoia and sometimes I get this voice in my head telling me everyone hates me and I have such low self-confidence that I struggle to not listen to those thoughts.

            The first part of my journey was a coach from York to somewhere in the East Midlands, where then got a train to St Pancras in London. The coach part of the journey was extremely anxiety-provoking as there were lots of people on the coach and I’m not good being around lots of people, especially in small, cramped spaces. I was also anxious because the front of the coach displayed the destination as Victoria Coach Station and so I was worried that perhaps it was the wrong coach, though the driver assured me it was the right one and the display was just incorrect. At some point on the journey the driver announced an unplanned detour, due to an accident on the route that we were meant to take and that there would, therefore, be a slight delay in our arrival at the train station in the East Midlands. This almost set off a panic attack as I dislike structure and plans being disrupted and I was anxious about missing the train to St Pancras and then my train from St Pancras to Brighton. To try to calm myself down I recited the alphabet backwards until I was calm enough to read, and then I hid behind my book for the rest of the coach journey.

            Fortunately the coach arrived in time for us to catch the train to St Pancras. The train was busy but I managed to find a seat and the journey was rather uneventful. When I reached St Pancras I couldn’t see my train to Brighton on the departures board and started to panic again. I got a different train but I was extremely anxious throughout the whole journey in case my ticket restricted me from getting on that train and the train guard threw me off the train or fined. I reached Brighton without being thrown off or fined for being on the wrong train. Finally I got a bus from Brighton to Shoreham-by-Sea (where my friend Katie lives) and, despite being anxious because I had never gotten that bus before and didn’t know the route, I reached Katie’s house without having another panic attack. The rest of the night was quiet; I ate dinner with Katie and her husband, Chris, and then watched a film with them before heading to bed.

            On the Saturday I had arranged to meet a couple of friends before the wedding that afternoon. I got the bus back into Brighton and met my friend Kali and her fiancé, Pete, in Starbucks. It was great to see her after so long; she’s such an amazing friend. The difference in her was just astounding. She has lost weight and seemed to be in less pain despite coming off some of her medication that was meant to help with the pain caused by her Fibromyalgia. She was also so happy; it was great to see her like that. It’s obvious that her fiancé Pete is the cause of most of this new-found happiness and I am so grateful to him because of it. We had a great catch up on Saturday morning and had fun discussing wedding plans – I’m so excited for her. After seeing her it felt like all the anxiety had been worth it, because it was like I had never gone home, in that we talked just like we did before I moved home.

            I then went to meet another friend, Janet, for an early lunch before the wedding. She has been such a rock for me the whole time I’ve been at home. It was brilliant to see her and it was great to talk and catch up with her. After lunch we headed to church together for the wedding. Almost as soon as I arrived I saw a couple of people who said hello and that they were glad to see me. They immediately made me feel like I was back where I belonged and when I got upstairs to the main meeting room, where the service was being held, I saw even more people who made me feel much better about being back there. The service was lovely and I was so glad I got to be there to see such a wonderful occasion. Ana looked so beautiful in her dress and she seemed so happy, as did Chris; they are such a lovely couple.

            After the ceremony, most of the guests went downstairs to where the reception was being held whole Ana, Chris and the rest of the wedding party had photos taken. I was at a table with several friends from church and had a lovely time talking to everyone. I was so glad I went. It was really nice to see everyone and I had such a great day. Then suddenly, for no reason, towards the end of the evening my mood started to drop off and I went to the bathroom to hide because I started to have a panic attack. I felt really low and detached and just wanted to leave. I managed to go back to the reception and carried on talking to people but I was glad when Janet came over to me and if I wanted a lift back to Katie’s. I had had a good day but I was tired and so went and said goodbye to everyone; congratulated Ana and Chris, and then left with Janet.

            After Janet dropped me off at Katie’s I chatted to Katie and her husband, Chris, for a little while before heading up to bed. On the Sunday I packed and left Katie’s to get the bus into Brighton. I had planned to go to my church in Brighton that morning and I got through the front doors and sat through the first song before I had a panic attack. I decided I couldn’t handle it and ran away from church and hid in a Costa with a cup of coffee and my book until I had to go for my train. I was really pissed off with myself for having a panic attack and running away but I just couldn’t handle being there. I was so relieved to get to the station and get on my train to London. I guess it was just a lot for me to do with where I am right now health-wise, but I’m still annoyed that I panicked and ran away.

            The return journey to York was alright but I still felt really low and detached. When I finally reached York I felt so rubbish and so mad at myself I just didn’t want to be around people so I phoned my dad and told him I didn’t feel well so wasn’t going to go for dinner. I feel bad for doing that because it was kind of a lie and I was just isolating myself because I was feeling so low. I went home and went straight to bed where I just watched stuff online until I fell asleep. In that time though, because I just felt so low and detached, I ended up cutting myself. I hate that I did it. I seem to revert back to it whenever things get too hard and I really hate myself for it.

            On Monday morning I brought into boundaries, in community meeting at therapy, that I had cut myself the night before. Everyone was understanding about it, but I still feel rubbish about it. I hope that I’ll be able to go back to Brighton again when I am a little better and maybe then I won’t have more panic attacks but for now, I think perhaps it was just too much too soon. Despite this I did have a nice time for most of the Saturday and I am really happy for Ana and Chris; I love weddings and hope one day to be able to get married myself – but that’s a whole other post.

Thanks for reading and God bless

KV

Week Three in the Mad House

This post is rather late; I wrote it last Friday but I’ve been really busy and tired and just haven’t had chance to post it until now.

            So the other day I wrote about art therapy last Monday afternoon in my post ‘An Exercise in Pointlessness’. In writing that post, and throughout the rest of the week, I realised that I had just been incredibly stubborn and even childish. I have my reasons for disliking art therapy, but sometimes we have to do things we don’t like. And also, looking back on the event now and being hit by just how stubborn and provocative I’d been (hindsight is always 20:20) I learnt that a large part of my response came from the fact that people challenged me, and when pushed, I push back. I’m not making excuses it’s just that I had never really noticed this before, because I never really took the time to acknowledge and examine these things. I can’t say that this discovery is a surprise, or a shock, as such, because it makes a lot of sense; it has just taken a long time to clear away the fog of so many (mostly irrational) thoughts in order to see things clearly. I have now decided to try art, and try to get something out of it, and to use the space on Monday afternoon to explore why I react in this way to things I don’t like. I have a feeling it’s going to be a struggle, because my initial reaction is to fight it.

            On Tuesday the sharing out of jobs in community group led to conflict when some of the community members didn’t want to put themselves forward for jobs. Other members challenged people about their aversions to jobs but somehow the discussion ended in rather heated arguments. This seemed to set the tone for the rest of the day. Large group therapy just seemed to be an extension of the same argument that occurred in community meeting, with the same people repeating the same tired arguments and then not listening to one another. The session felt somewhat wasted and there was a lot of stress and tension within the community.

            Things came to a head in the ‘To be Confirmed’ (TBC) session right before lunch. TBC is a difficult session as the structure is different from the rest of the time there. The last two weeks, as people were leaving, there were exhibitions of their art from the whole year, held during TBC. This week, however, the slot was a designated ‘creative’ session – though I’m not quite sure what that entails. At the beginning of the session, it was pointed out that the session should actually have been set for someone to demonstrate a skill to the group – an exercise in public speaking – but the person whose turn it was supposed to be had altered the schedule in order to put it off for their own personal reasons – which I cannot share due to confidentiality issues. This led into more discussion about jobs and people not taking responsibility for their actions. I know that I have been guilty of this myself and so felt that the reaction of some of the other community members was rather extreme.

            More arguments ensued and it got rather heated. I don’t much like conflict – though it may sometimes appear otherwise – and so got extremely anxious and had a panic attack. Before now I would have left the room when the panic attack came on, if not before, but I forced myself to stay in my seat, despite the intense urge to just run away. For all the argument about of structure, the structure for the session went completely out of the window, and anarchy and chaos presided. This only added to my distress and anxiety, as I need structure and routine. The arguments just kept going around in circles, with several people really getting on my nerves – this is why I don’t like people. Finally time was called and I rushed out of the room wanting air (it had been so stuffy in the therapy room) and to go home. I didn’t leave but I was still very upset and mistakenly started discussing what had happened, with another community member, in the social space. As this is breaking a ground rule I was advised to stop talking about it and bring it in to a therapy session; which I intend to do properly next week.

            Awareness that afternoon was not as bad as the morning. The main theme was body language and there was some discussion on the topic and a little role play. I was exhausted from the morning so the calmer atmosphere was greatly appreciated. When awareness was over I could go home. I was completely drained but had an appointment with my doctor that evening and so couldn’t just go home and rest. The appointment went well and talking about how the therapy was going actually helped me to put my feelings about it in perspective after such a stressful day. It seems that thus far my general feelings about it are positive.

            Wednesday morning in community meeting, unfortunately the arguments started all over again. I tried to stay calm and rational but failed miserably and when it came to small group therapy, and the conflict still continued, I started to have another panic attack. Again I did actually manage to stay seated. It was difficult, but I am grateful to one person in particular who tried to diffuse the situation. Towards the end of the session a kind of vague resolution was made, but I still felt very anxious and stressed.

            I had been selected to take part in Working Party, which takes place on Wednesday afternoons, immediately after lunch. Working Party consists of six community members and two therapists who discuss practical issues that affect the community. I didn’t particularly want to do it because I am not good at taking responsibility, but in the community that’s a reason to do it; I just feel it’s a bit soon - this week was only my third week. Despite my reservations it went quite well. We only discussed one point and at times it felt repetitive and I got frustrated with people talking over one another but by the end of the meeting it felt like we had actually achieved something, though it seemed a small thing.

            PAG followed Working Party, and again it went well. There was one person new to PAG and two people who were nearing the end of their assessment (as well as some other community members and two therapists). The two who were near the end of their assessment completed it in the session and were invited to start full time from Monday; so on Monday we will have two new members, making our numbers up to fourteen (not including the therapists).

            After PAG the whole community joined back together for After Group to discuss how both the previous sessions, and the day generally, had gone. By this time I was exhausted and really did not need more conflict. For the most part it went smoothly but were a couple of times when people got agitated and even aggressive. I think it’s fair to say that Tuesday and Wednesday were not great days; everyone was frustrated, annoyed and upset and people just weren’t listening to each other. It strikes me that, unless people actually listen to what other community members say, group therapy won’t work and the community will just fall apart.

            On Thursday, as I have previously explained, we are only in for the morning. We had boundaries and reviews, and then came to check-out. In check-out I explained that I was going to Brighton at the weekend for a wedding. I was really anxious about the journey and it was really stressful and anxiety-provoking, but I made it all the way to Brighton. I was also really anxious about the weekend as a whole. It was the first time I was going to be in Brighton since I left last summer and so I hadn’t seen anyone for over a year. I also hadn’t been away from home alone in all that time, let alone as far as Brighton. Then there was the anxiety over seeing people. I love my friends from Brighton and still keep in touch with some of them but, having been away so long, I have missed things. I also feel that I have changed a lot in the course of the year and so I worried that they wouldn’t have still liked me. I know that it was just my paranoia and anxiety that made me feel that way but I was really scared. Finally, I had been having a fat week, so I didn’t particularly feel like getting all dressed up for a wedding, even though I really wanted to be there. So (back to the point of this particular post) after I had explained this to the group, I went on to say that I had found the week very stressful and anxiety-provoking. After I had finished speaking, one of the therapists said that I “have a strong voice”. At the time I just responded with “I don’t feel it sometimes” but since, I have been wondering what exactly he meant by that comment, because I am not exactly sure. I think I might have to ask him for clarification because my paranoia is still doing over-time.

            The morning actually passed without conflict. One person was away but, though I wonder about it, I know that it wasn’t the whole reason behind the change in atmosphere from the Wednesday to the Thursday. That lunchtime we had a birthday lunch for a community member. I baked brownies for it and they seemed to go down well so that made me feel a little better about myself. That afternoon, I met my best friend in town, which seems to be becoming a weekly ritual, and ranted at her about the stresses and anxieties of the week. I am so blessed to have that woman in my life and I feel sorry for her having to listen to me complain all the time. However much I complain though, I have come to realise that I am blessed to have the opportunity to be part of the therapy programme. It may be frustrating at times, and very hard work, but I have already seen and felt some benefit. Please pray that it keeps working and I keep seeing the benefits.

Thanks and God bless

KV

An Exercise in Pointlessness

            So today began the third week in the mad house and this afternoon we had art therapy. As I mentioned in my post ‘Week Two in the Mad House’, I really struggle with the art therapy sessions as I just don’t get it. Today, at the beginning of the session people started to have a go at me about the fact that I prefer to write rather than draw or paint. Well, perhaps saying they were ‘having a go at me’ is a little immature, but I felt persecuted by everyone in the room. I know that the point of therapy is to make the things that are uncomfortable, comfortable, but people pressing me just makes the urge to fight or run away, even stronger. I also felt like people weren’t listening to what I was saying. Everyone kept telling me to just do whatever came to mind; to follow my instinct, but I do that through writing. Art doesn’t come naturally to me, words do, and so telling me to do what comes naturally, inspires me to write. I express myself through words; this blog is evidence of that. But no one would listen when I tried to explain this.

            Because of this I was frustrated and angry, so when it came to actually making the art I admit that I was stubborn and rebelled slightly. I spent ages looking through the art supplies for inspiration and just got more and more annoyed, but I was convinced that the therapist was making note of my stubbornness and so eventually decided to do something random just to prove how pointless it was. Pointless making me do something without feeling or meaning. I found a picture in a tattoo magazine of a tattoo of an eye. The image meant nothing to me; it was just the nicest one I saw. I cut it out and stuck it to a piece of card and then just left it at that. I called it ‘An Exercise in Pointlessness’ because I felt no connection to it; it held no meaning for me; it just felt completely pointless. After that there was still loads of time left and I still felt angry and frustrated, so I grabbed a piece of paper and a pen and scrawled in large letters, taking up the entire A3 page, the question ‘WHY?’ I have felt so disillusioned with a number of things recently, the therapy being just one of them. By writing ‘why’ I was not only questioning being made to do something I didn’t want to, and thought was pointless, but I was voicing my doubts about a number of things. One might argue that by doing this I found purpose in the art therapy but I did so by using words; or at least a word. I didn’t use paint. I didn’t draw something. I wrote something. Which just proves my point that words can be ‘art’ and you don’t have to make an image.

            By this point the anger had receded slightly but I still felt like being stubborn and so, as there was still some time left, I grabbed another piece of paper. This time I just signed it and then left the rest of the page blank. My point in doing this was to express exactly what came to my mind when I entered art therapy on a Monday afternoon, NOTHING. Finally the time for creating the art was up and we had to sit and give feedback on each other’s work. Obviously people commented on mine, saying that they found it provocative and aggressive. I said that I felt apathetic towards my pieces of work but that may have been a slight lie. I did feel little towards the first piece that I did, but I was being stubborn when I said that they all meant nothing. Truthfully, I felt, and still feel, angry and upset and frustrated about the whole art therapy session and about the work I created.

            I’m still annoyed because, however childish it may be, I feel like I gave in to the pressure to create art. I was stubborn and deliberately made a point, through my work, of trying to rebel, by still using words and refusing to create something; leaving a blank page. But I gave in and produced something. And now I find myself questioning my work and the purpose and meaning that I placed upon it. I also find myself wondering why it is, exactly, that I dislike art so much. If therapy is going to make me think this much, I’m not sure I like it – and now I really am being stubborn and childish.

            I will write again soon I am sure.

God bless

KV

Week Two in the Mad House

            So I did actually go back to the group therapy thing this week. It was a difficult decision to make myself return because I really didn’t want to. But I forced myself to persevere. I realised that not to go back would only serve to spite myself. Last week, when those two community members walked out, I became upset because of my own history of storming out of therapy. I realised that if I were to not return, especially after so short a period of time, I would just be doing what I always do when I don’t like something or it becomes too difficult – running away. And if I really want to recover, I have to overcome my fears and my constant urge to run away from them.

            So as I said, I went back. Monday morning was rather uneventful but art therapy that afternoon was a struggle. I have issues with art. I am not artistic person and sometimes I just don’t get it, but my biggest problem is what is counted as ‘art’ and what is not. I work in words. I love words and I see them as art but, in the art therapy sessions, we are expected to produce an image of some kind; a drawing, a painting or even a sculpture. But not words. Or at least not just words. Both of my pieces of work that I have done in the art therapy sessions so far have been composed of just words. My first piece was just a page full of random quotes that popped into my head – I didn’t give a great deal of thought to it, I just can’t do art. But my second piece was more considered. I spent what felt like an eternity staring blankly at all of the art supplies trying to think of something to draw or paint. It was too stressful though, so I just ended up grabbing a piece of paper and a pencil and wrote a great long rant about ‘art’ and what it really is; what really constitutes ‘art’.

            Obviously people have already noticed my aversion to art and the fact that my two pieces of work thus far have been pieces of writing, and there has been discussion about it over the course of the week. On Tuesday, because another member of the community was leaving this week, there was a review of his artwork from his year on the programme. I looked at his art with everyone else but I felt a little awkward doing so as the art from the programme is a very intimate, personal thing and I had only known the guy a short while. At the review, two of the therapists asked me what I felt about the artwork and if any piece in particular affected me. Whilst talking to one of these two therapists about art and my difficulties with it, he said he found it interesting that I do not much like art because people are usually very visual. He also asked about my preoccupation with words and writing, and he made me think about why I love words so much and why I don’t like art very much. It was a difficult conversation and I still haven’t quite worked out the answers to the questions it raised.

            On Tuesday afternoon we had a session called awareness. It’s difficult to explain exactly what ‘awareness’ is about. This week we did something known as ‘empty chair’. ‘Empty chair’ is an exercise in direct communication. People took turns to sit in front of other members of the community and say something to them directly, without receiving a response, about something that has been bothering them. The subjects of the direct communications were not always grievances, but the point of the exercise was to help people with issues regarding talking to people directly, especially about difficult subjects. It also helps people listen to and accept confrontation without responding directly and immediately. I felt very uncomfortable during the session as I really struggle with confrontation. I also have problems with paranoia and rejection which mean I worry about what people think of me. This made me really anxious during the ‘empty chair’ exercise as I was terrified of the thought that someone would say something horrible to me and that they didn’t like me. No one did say anything horrible to me. In fact, the one person who did say anything to me, was very kind and said that I had done very well in the therapy so far and that I fit into the group easily. I was very grateful for what she said and she had been really encouraging. I’m still terrified that someone will say that they hate me, and I hate the thought of having to do the ‘empty chair’ exercise again, but I guess that therapy is about dealing with difficult things and the things we don’t like and are scared of.

            Wednesday mornings we have small group therapy which is when the community splits into two groups and then sit around and discuss issues within each group. In my group the discussion got around to the topic of relationships which is a difficult subject for many people, including me. During the discussion, a few people mentioned that they had put on weight almost in attempts to make themselves unattractive to people because they couldn’t deal with relationships or even attention from prospective partners. This raised an issue for me. I decided a few years ago that I no longer wanted to engage in casual relationships as I want to wait for my husband, which is very important to me, especially given my faith. I have also since realised that God wants me to remain single in order to concentrate on my recovery, and to truly find my identity in Him before growing into an identity in a relationship with someone. Around the same time as I made the decision to be single, I started to put on a lot of weight. I had believed that my weight-gain was due to the fact that I have always had problems with my weight and it has always fluctuated, a lot. I had never thought that perhaps my weight-gain was related to my decision to enter singleness but, during the discussion in small group therapy, I began to wonder if perhaps the two were actually linked. I’m still not certain of a connection, but it has made me wonder and start to examine more closely the reasons behind my current weight problem, and even my persistent issues with my weight.

            Thursday mornings consist of reviews in which two community members talk about their therapy and their goals, and receive feedback from the rest of the community and the therapists. The reviews occur for each community member once every six to eight weeks, so I will not have my first one for another few weeks yet (the thought of which terrifies me). Obviously, due to confidentiality issues, I cannot write about what is said in the reviews of other community members. After the reviews, there is check-out which involves each community member talking about how the week was for them and what they would be doing over the weekend. When it was my turn to talk about my plans for the weekend, someone suggested that I take some time to plan what I would do in art therapy the next Monday, as it had been noticed that my last two pieces had been writing. This brought laughs, especially from the therapist who had been asking me about my aversion to art on the Tuesday. I admit I pulled a face, partly because I had been caught out and partly because I really don’t like art.

            This week has brought up a lot of issues for me which I told the community I would bring into the group next week – including my dislike of art. Another issue that arose this week came from the discussion on Wednesday about relationships. I had mentioned God when talking about my decisions with regards to relationships and had explained that my faith had a lot of bearing upon my relationship choices. Everyone in the community is aware of my faith but the talk of it, especially with regards to relationships, brought up issues within the group especially for a couple of the community members who are gay. I think that these issues need exploring further and not just for the benefit of those with objections to my faith, but also because I took issue with some of the things that were said in response to my beliefs.

            I guess this suggests that I will be returning next week. I still have the same doubts about this therapy as I did before, and I still want to just run away and not go back, but I know that I need to persevere. I am already feeling some benefit from the programme, and I know that any further benefit will take time and hard work, so I will go back. And I will continue to do so for as long as it is right for me to do so. I know that this is what God wants for me and so I need to trust in that and in Him; which is a rather difficult thing for me to do.

            Prayer for the therapy and for the things it raises would be greatly appreciated and I will update again next week.

Thanks and God bless

KV

Week One in the Mad House

            Things have been moving rather quickly recently with regards to the Intensive Group Therapy Programme (IGTP) that I was referred to. When I last posted about it, just over a week ago, I was attending the Progress and Assessment Group (PAG) once a week, on a Wednesday afternoon. Since then I have actually joined the programme full-time and have completed my first week in the community.

            Before I started I was really nervous and anxious. I’ve never done group therapy before as the thought has always terrified me, and so when I arrived first thing on Monday morning I just wanted to turn around and run in the other direction. Despite feeling scared and sick, I made myself go in. I was met by two community members who I had met at PAG on Wednesday afternoons. They gave me a quick tour of the building and then explained a little about the structure of the programme and the day-to-day activities.

            Throughout the day I attended various therapy groups (including art therapy) and met most of the other members of the community. The first day was not difficult in terms of what was talked about in the therapy sessions but by the end of the day I was absolutely knackered. I had rather worn myself out with anxiety, and just doing so much in one day really sapped my energy. At the end of the day I went home and just ended up falling asleep as I was so tired.

            The following day was harder. I really struggled with the therapy groups and in the last session of the day, a community member walked out, which actually really affected me. I’ve had lots of therapy in the past, but every time I have just walked out and not gone back. Now I’m really trying to make a go of recovery but I still find it hard to fight my usual response of running away. The fact that someone else had walked out made me really anxious, especially because it disrupted the group and the structure of the rest of the session. The person who walked out did actually return after only a few minutes, which surprised me in a way, because, as I said, I usually left and never returned. It was really brave of them to come back; I know I would have been terrified of going back. It would be fair to say that the second day was interesting and again, I was absolutely worn out by the end of the day.

            By Wednesday I was already tired out with the therapy and being out of the house for two days running. I managed to make myself go to the group but I felt like crap and was rather spaced out. Within the first hour and a half another community member had walked out; the second in as many days. Like on the Tuesday, this made me very upset and anxious and the rest of the day was completely disrupted. We were in and out of Emergency General Meetings (EGMs) all day discussing how people felt and what we should do about the walk-out. The rest of the day passed in a blur of meetings and chamomile and spiced apple tea. I was tired and felt really zoned out and disillusioned with the programme. I left feeling like crap still, but with the added bonus of a pounding headache. Unfortunately I couldn’t even go home and just sleep as I was supposed to be going out for dinner with the family for my brother’s birthday. When I did finally get to bed I fell asleep almost immediately; I was just wiped out.

            On the Thursday morning I really did not want to go back but I forced myself to. I was only there in the morning (as Thursday is a half day) and was looking forward to meeting a friend for coffee in town afterwards. The morning was difficult for a lot of reasons and I was so glad when I could leave. Thursday was actually the last day for one of the community members. It was strange having my first week there, knowing that it was someone else’s final week. It was also encouraging in a way; to know that it can happen, that you can come out the other side. Also, the person who left was very kind and supportive and said that they really wished me all the best with the programme.

            I left on Thursday afternoon knackered and glad to have the rest of the week off. I had a cup of tea and a catch-up with my best friend that afternoon and ranted at her about how the week had gone on the programme; she’s always good for a rant. And I did feel a little better after talking to her, though I was still exhausted and went home and fell asleep.

            I haven’t completely decided to go in next week. I had been planning to. I do really want to recover but I am having doubts. I guess everyone does. I’m going to try and make myself go. But part of me is fighting; wanting to run away. Again. I had to force myself not to run out of the building so many times over the course of the week.

            I’ll update at some point about whether I do decide to go back or not, and how it goes if I do. Prayers would be much appreciated for this as I really want to keep God’s plans for me in this in my sight, in my mind and on my heart.

Thanks and God bless

KV

Race for Life

I said I would update people on how the Race for Life went but I have been so tired and busy that I haven't had the chance to do so; until now. So here it is:

I did the Race for Life last Wednesday evening (27th June). I am sure many are aware that the Race for Life is an event held every year, all around the country, for women to walk, jog or run 5Km in order to raise money for Cancer Research UK (CR UK). This year I signed up to do the Race for Life in York. My last post 'Running' was about my reasons for doing the run. I also mentioned in that post that, at that point, I had managed to raise £165 for CR UK, which was amazing.

Well a week and two days on from the event and I have recovered - I actually recovered a week ago, but as I said earlier, this post has been a while in coming. I completed the 5Km in under 50 minutes. I didn't run the whole thing but walked and jogged alternately - which had actually been my intention - so I succeeded in doing what I had set out to do. I started off in the walking section which I regretted slightly as it took a while to get past the start point and to break away from the rest of the walkers in order to start jogging.

Aside from this, the event was rather enjoyable. Around 3,000 women were doing the Race for Life and it was amazing to be a part of it and to see that number of people supporting CR UK. On the weather front, it didn't rain (fortunately) but it was very hot and humid which made it very hard work. But despite that, moods were high as people completed the race.

I was so pleased and proud of myself for completing it and I really hope that my Grandad and Grandma (in memory of whom I was doing the race) would have been proud of me also. As well as my joy at completing it, I am over-whelmed at the support I received from friends and family. I have now managed to raise over £200 for CR UK which will go to do some amazing work to help people who suffer from cancer and their families. So I just want to say thank you to everyone who supported me in doing the Race for Life.

Thanks and God bless.

KV