Just write

In a view to actually writing this story and realising that to be a writer, I have to write, I've been doing some writing. It's mostly poems, free verse and rhyming verse inspired by snow, my first panic attack in months and other things. Let me know what you think!

Snow

Arriving delicately, gently, stealthily

It quietly covers the land, instilling hush

Feet powder through, leaving dark marks

marring the pure white and corrupting the purity

But the snow is relentless, pinpricking skin,

hiding the sins of dirt, rubbish and decay

It allows us a carte blanche we don’t deserve

Snow is the ultimate femme fatale,

all beauty and light yet bringing danger

It departs gradually or suddenly without warning

until not a trace can be found, like it was never there

Away without a backward glance

Caring not for the consequences

Leaving us with the chaos that is left in its wake 

Ice

Snow turns to ice if time is on its side

Where snow is a cool blanket, a white carpet,

Softening and veiling and concealing

Ice is transparent, a see-through wall

blocking you from what it is beneath

Where snow is a femme fatale

Ice is a plain, cold attempted killer

Grey and black and a clear and present danger

Shining with contempt and glittery in the light

It takes away solidity and complacence

Replacing it with pure uncertainty

Wheels slide, feet slip and paws skitter

Causing embarrassment and pain

Or potentially something more permanent

A Light Touch

A brush of the hand

One finger on the pulse

A toe in the water

A step instead of a foot

An inch instead of a mile

A hop instead of a leap

A rock instead of a shoulder

An anchor instead of a weight

A burden instead of a gift

A grip on the arm

A grip on reality

A grip on love

Holding something tangible

Holding on for dear life

Holding on to you

First grey hairs

The metallic sheen of copper tones is now laced with precious silver, in sharp relief against the dark brown. The first may have been cruelly untimely wrenched from their roots, but when they became more of a battalion than lone soldiers, entrenching in enemy territory until they could no longer be avoided, they were embraced like liberators. These grey strands are not a sign of a person on the wane, a gradual downfall, nor an ebbing of the tide, but a symbol of growing proof that anything can be survived with the right support, stubbornness and belief. They are strings of hard won battles and hard time done over many years, earned through pain, determination and resilience. They are a mark that you have lived and continue to live, reaching a time you thought you may not live to see.

Small Victories

When nothing you do seems to matter
When nothing you do seems to stick
When your thoughts scream and scatter
When your life goes by so quick
It is easy to see only the wrong
It is easy to see only the bad
Rather than seeing where you're strong
Rather than seeing what makes you glad

So a drift in focus, a forgotten task
A brief relapse and a bad night
Become something important in which to bask
An excuse to give in and give up the fight
Yes they are awful at the time
Yes they hurt those around you
They make the hill harder to climb
They make the day harder to get through

But each time they happen you learn
But each time they happen others see
You learn who can help, where to turn
Others see a glimpse of you, how to be
One step forward two steps back
Is still a positive, still means hope
So be kind to yourself, give yourself some slack
Because you know you and you know how to cope

You just may not see it right now
You will make it, get through somehow
Small victories are for the best, so take a bow

Music therapy

I have brought music back into my life. I realised how little music I listen to, just as part of film and TV soundtracks and on long car journeys: the only time I listen to the radio. It was a big part of one of my old jobs and it was crucial there; working at a police station can be extremely stressful. We listened to the radio, all day every day. I have a playlist full of music from that time and after the annual Cambridge Librarians conference I created a new one, which you can see on Spotify.

It's one of the three new year resolutions I made; I know, I don't usually make them, but I find myself at a transition point in my life mentally and I needed to make some changes: music via some cordless headphones, health and fitness (the first part being out of my hands and in the doctors') and writing my book, which is going slowly. However this is helping as music is a big part of my book. I toyed with the idea of at the beginning of each chapter naming a song as a thematic device, but that became too unwieldy. So, using Scott Pilgrim as inspiration; the author listed the songs he listened to when he was writing the book at the end; I have created a playlist for the book, which I will put on Spotify if it gets published.

Scott Pilgrim

Music helps me emotionally, so I don't know how I've done without it for so long. However I know why; in-ear headphones affect my balance as it changes the pressure inside my ears. Over-ear headphones are fine, but the cord gets in the way, so I needed cordless headphones. They're the best Christmas present I've had for years as they have changed my life. Listening to music over lunch has improved my mood no end, especially as I've been tipping towards depression. It's been long overdue as it is quite common with anxiety sufferers, but now I have a handle on my anxiety, it has started to manifest. The Guardians of the Galaxy soundtrack has been helping. The conference was too much for 70s and 80s music to combat though. Big social occasions overwhelm me, on three fronts: mentally, physically and both together. The social anxiety of having to mingle and make conversations, alongside crowds of people putting me literally off balance due to my vestibular condition and all the noise, commotion and activity affecting my high sensitivity. So, just like with the Christmas party, mentioned in my Quiet book review post, I was grateful to have a job to focus on; because my workplace was hosting it, I helped make sure our library looked the best it could be, creating posters and plasma screen slides beforehand and displays on the day. When I felt overwhelmed, I had the excuse to pop back and check on things, plus my natural conscientiousness drove me to do that anyway! There, I could deal with fewer groups of people, showing them round. However, unlike the party, I had to focus and listen and take things in. I had to engage my brain, so I really had to manage my issues which was doubly exhausting.

After the conference, I had adrenalin overload, a consequence of the anxiety. I did pop my head in the pub afterwards, but when I cringed every time I said anything, imagining social fauxpas, I knew I had to go home. I was right, as it kicked in when I got in the door. So I had to slow things down. If I don't do anything, it could trigger a panic attack and the subsequent adrenalin comedown, both aren't pretty and make me feel awful. So keen to avoid that, I went home and listened to my wind down playlist as I call it. The One Show and Death in Paradise, cosy, good-hearted and mildly challenging TV helped too. There are few Cafe Del Mar type pieces of music as my chillout tunes need words and lyrics, otherwise I can't connect with it. Let me know your own wind down music. Books are the ultimate way to wind down for me though.

I won't include the full list of songs here as you can see, and hear, it on Spotify; I've called the playlist wind down obviously. Instead, here is some of the reasoning behind my song picks: blur as Damon Albarn's just-got-out-of-bed voice is soothing and has real meaning behind it, not the youthful exuberance of their earlier songs, excepting The Universal, but those from Think Tank; Travis, my favourite band would always make an appearance, their mellower later tracks are beautiful and Fran's lyrics and melodies speak to me like nothing else; Leftfield as I'm always lulled by their tunes; The Levellers' Elation is a song that sends me to another place; Moondance is one of my favourites of all-time and the version from the film August Rush reminds me of a great moment; Shakespear's Sister is a real nostalgia trip and Stay takes me back in time to listening to the radio on my way home from swimming, all sleepy and relaxed; Sit Down by James has some of my favourite lyrics which make me feel like I'm not alone; Vangelis is one of the best film composers and his music is so out of this world I'm not me anymore; there are songs that bring back memories from great films and TV like Disney which would always make it to any of my playlists, the dreamy The Life Aquatic, seductive performances in The Bronze on Buffy, the excellent Veronica Mars soundtrack and music from my favourite TV series Alias; Elbow's Mirrorball can send me to sleep in the best way; Into Dust by Mazzy Star is trance-like; some songs are self-explanatory just from their titles such as Moby's Down Slow, Will Young's Let It Go  and Simon and Garfunkel's The Sound of Silence, one of my favourite songs ever; some artists are just perfect for winding down to such as The Lighthouse Family's smooth tones; and finally Gotta Get Thru This was the soundtrack to my first panic attack-ridden months and was one of the things that literally got me through. I will be forever grateful to Daniel Bedingfield for bringing that song out when he did, so the acoustic version is my go-to to wind me down when nothing else will work.

There are songs I wanted to include, but were either too emotive like Sarah McLachlan, come from films or TV programmes that had too big an impact on me or were songs that remind me of a part of my life that isn't conducive to relaxation. The exception that proves the rule is the Star Trek: Voyager theme as it reminds me of early evenings when I was a kid, warm and snuggly after I'd had my bath. I hope you find some of these helpful, they mostly have a slow rhythm that mimics a relaxed heartbeat and none of them are melancholy, but hopeful and neutral.

Bonus: Here's a Travis song not on Spotify, a lovely Viennese Waltz style song all about me!

A Quiet book review

It's our work Christmas party today. For an introvert, it can be an anxious time. I've always known I'm an introvert, I just didn't know the term when I was younger. It's generally not good to have a label, but for me it helps me understand myself. I've been able to create a what-I-call pretence to seem more outgoing than I am; from first impressions, I come across as friendly, warm and talkative, but socialising is very tiring for me. I need something to focus on, an activity or purpose behind socialising, rather than just meeting up with people to chat, even when it comes to friends. That's why I love quizzes or any competitive activity. I believe you find out more about people by doing things with them than talking to them anyway.

My spirit animal

I'm on my work's social committee, so I helped organise our Christmas party. It's a benefit on the night, largely. However I have to stay to the end to help clear up, which means I can't escape if I need to. I'm going to have to have temporary escapes during the 8 hours from set-up to finish, so I'm doing the equivalent of 2 days of work in one day! I've also helped organise lots of other events, most I didn't go to! It does seem a tad contradictory to be on the social committee and also be basically a hermit. I prefer small groups of people to large parties and 1-2-1s. It takes the pressure off. But even after a simple night out, I find myself exhausted and mentally drained. I need time to recover on my own, or doing something alone.

Reading Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking by Susan Cain, I now know why. I came to the book late, but when I started reading, I had to take notes as I was recognising so much. So here is my personal reaction to the book. There are labels other than introversion, high reactive, highly sensitive. One of the classic features of introversion is preferring to observe, listen rather than talk, which obviously can make us introverts compassionate. Empathy is a key part of my social personality, it's probably why I get exhausted when I'm with others. Empathy doesn't just mean understanding others, it goes beyond that to feeling the feelings of others: think of the empath Deanna Troi in Star Trek: The Next Generation. It leads me to being a caring and compassionate person yes, but also gives me intense feelings of guilt, shame and regret. Emotions are difficult, introverts feel more, think more, love more: music, art, nature. Things can become too heavy, to quote Marty McFly.

I recognise this pose, classic defensive posture

There are physical aspects to introversion too, it's not all in your head. Thin skin means you're warmer, you sweat more easily, it's why I'm inherently uncool! I'm sensitive, not just to words and feelings, but also all the senses: sound, touch, taste, sights and smells. We get overwhelmed easily so we can't deal with stimulating, busy environments. Excessive stimulation leads to my key problem: anxiety. Introverts are threat oriented after all. Too much stimulation leads to stress and illness. Overarousal means we can't think straight, but it also means we're better than extroverts when we're tired. We need to find optimal stimulation, a sweet spot. It means no coffee, pain and illness are problematic.

Introverts' brains are highly connected, neurofeedback showed me that. I'm reflective, I think a lot of course, but I also don't give up easily as I come up with every permutation; I live in a world of possibilities, even the most unlikely ones. We don't like small talk, it pains us as it seems like a waste of time, we like to talk about deep things, deep talk. It also means I'm open and receptive to ideas. I learn from my mistakes, mainly because I dwell on them, still think about them even years afterwards. I ask questions, mainly to deal with the uncertainty, trying to get some firm footing. I have a strong conscience which means I'm highly principled and value value above all else; I have to have meaning and purpose.

A clear one for me is that introverts express ourselves better in writing than conversation, that's why we love social media and blogging so much. Solitude is key to creativity; we need our own space to work and to relax at home, a place to escape: a restorative niche, physical or temporal. It means around others, we appear inhibited. We need time to prepare, forewarning. Social fear can mean we conform to ensure we fit in and people like us, even when we know that it's wrong. We can experience a fear response to anything new.

When I socialise, or come out of my hermitage, I need alone time to recharge afterwards. We may wilt more easily, but we're also quick to flourish; we may not like change, but we're adaptable. Being watched, like when I'm teaching, presenting or making a speech can make introverts feel like we're being hunted, it's primal. Because of the world we live in, societal rules, we become good at pretending. But we're less interested in role playing, being someone we're not. We have an internal compass, we need passion projects. We need something we gravitate towards, you need to get us interested in our work. We have to make a deal with ourselves to go out, do something we don't want to do. It's emotional labour and too much leads to burnout. Suppressing our emotions, negative or positive can lead to a negative outlook. We operate on two levels: overwhelmed or detached. We find an inbetween difficult. It's why we avoid conflict where extroverts thrive on it.

Key takeaways: find your centre, it's quality not quantity of friendships, find work you love and work that matters, solve problems, make art, think deeply, contribute to the world, don't feel guilty about taking "me time" or crossing the street to avoid an acquaintance, spend your free time doing what you want and not what you're told, make deals to force yourself to socialise, delight in the originality of your mind, take pride in your conscience and loyalty, solve problems alone and then join together, be authentic to conserve energy and health, cultivate your inner landscape and deploy the powers of the quiet.

It seems I will do anything to avoid writing my book. However writing this book review has helped me understand why I'm a writer, why I love books so much and why I am who I am. I've used the word we a lot, which shows how much this book has meant to me. So hopefully it will give me the impetus to write my book, especially as this quote at the end of the book seems really apt: "Quit your job as a TV anchor and get a degree in library science."

The Quiet website

NB: Quiet has an amazing accompanying website, which includes a introvert-extrovert test you can take. The Wikipedia page is also very detailed. Susan Cain has done a TED talk and she has also turned the book into one for younger people.

Oh and finally, my name in print! Here's a photo of that work project which happened this week:

Writer's block

I wrote a poem on my cycle to work:

On Autumn days when my breath masks the crisp blue sky
On Autumn days when the leaves colour the cold hard ground
On Autumn days when the frost nips the edges of everything

On Autumn days when Summer loses its battle to survive
These are the days when I feel most alive

I don't get writer's block. Well, not the block where I can't think what to write, just sitting staring at the blank page. Once I have a pen and paper in front of me, you can't stop me. So much so I've missed meals, alarms and bedtime. But I do get writer's block in that I don't even have a blank page in front of me to be afraid of. I don't get that far. Incidentally, the fear of the blank page is Vacansopapurosophobia. Don't ask me how to pronounce it.

Anyway, I don't have a blank page as I've already written parts of my book: I have the title, the characters, the plot, the chapters and the first paragraph. So I'm not even scared of the blank page. I'm scared of something far bigger than that, something that goes far deeper, something so profoundly terrifying I can't even sit down to write. I've always identified as a writer and longed to be published, I've always found it easy to write and I've always had ideas on what I want to write about. But now I'm actually on my way to being a writer, I just can't bring myself to do it. I'm being pummelled by what if's. What if I'm not as good as I think I am? What if my idea is rubbish? What if my years of not writing have dried up my writing abilities?

Something that has helped is that writing project I've mentioned. My piece has been accepted and I'm now a paid writer! I just have to wait and see what they do with my work. I'm determined to get this book written and I will bring myself to get started... soon.

Writing process

I am writing in stolen moments, the moments where you can't do anything else, between TV programmes, between chores and between family visits. I find then and only then can I focus on the task at hand. I have a butterfly mind, I'm easily distracted, so my process is to have nothing that could stray my attention, that's another reason why I write with pen and paper as a computer offers too many distractions. I can't write while listening to music, not even within earshot of the television and when everything that I need to get done is done.

As for the writing project here at work, that is going apace. I always work better to a deadline, not a deadline I set myself as that is obviously flexible, but those set by others. I hate what I've written so far, but I know that there is something there to work with.

So maybe I should set myself a deadline for the book and then I may actually get down to writing it!

In the meantime, another piece of my writing has been published on the Anxiety UK website: https://www.anxietyuk.org.uk/blog/managing-anxiety-therapy-guest-blog/

I am writing!

Honest! But it's going slowly. I don't know why that is. If I have to write for work, for academic purposes or for extracurricular activities, I'm fine. But for creative writing, I procrastinate. Again, I don't know whether it's a self-esteem thing; I have a tendency to just avoid things if they're scary or push people away if it becomes difficult and I'm not forced to do things or if they're not persistent. It's a defence mechanism. I'm finally doing something that I've always been told I'm good at and have been good at in the past. It is scary because, what if I find out I'm not as good as I think? Anyway, I'm all determined to get down to writing and then suddenly I get the urge to do something, anything else but write, even clean... It's not even fear of the blank page as I've got stuff to work from.

However I'm taking part in something that may change all that. I recently attended a creative writing workshop for a project at work, but it's not for work as such. I can't say too much as it's all under wraps and nothing's certain yet, but I was a bit of a teacher's pet, which I usually don't like as I tend to be quite rebellious. But it gave me confidence when they said my work was brilliant and I really understood what they were getting at. It reminds me of a similar workshop I took part in at the Fitzwilliam Museum when they had the excellent Treasured Possessions exhibition; we wrote a poem, story or something creative based on one of the exhibits. I got carried away as I always do and my poem is still up on the Fitzwilliam website: http://www.fitzmuseum.cam.ac.uk/gallery/treasuredpossessions/discover/writingworkshop.html

I never make things easy for myself as I've chosen to start writing during the first week of our early-morning before work sessions for students, the week of my nephew's fifth birthday and the week I have the writing workshop. Sometimes that helps though, busyness breeds busyness. I'm also a contrary kind of person and the more something becomes difficult, the more I want to do it. I've always thought I'm a walking contradiction.

My writing methods are very traditional. I find I can't write creatively on a computer. So, at least initially, I use a pen and paper and type it up afterwards; computers are brilliant editing tools. One of my colleagues recently told me about a great innovation in pens: the Pilot Frixion pen which you can rub out. It won't rub it out entirely, but it means you can write over what was there. Plus it comes in a range of colours, including my preferred colour purple. It's not just because purple is my favourite colour; black is too harsh, blue is not authoritative enough and purple is the colour of creativity, imagination and royalty.

Anyway, here's a sample of what I've already done, 'tis a silly poem I wrote years ago and have extended recently:

In Love

I am in love with my bed

I know this is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not just a little bit

I don’t want to leave it for school in the morning

Reading on my warm pillow while I’m still yawning

And I can’t wait to go to bed at night

Reading late, though it isn’t right

I could play in it all day

Creating forts, keeping enemies at bay

Hiding under the covers

Escaping from tiresome angry mothers

When I’m sitting in lessons

Especially those early morning sessions

Double maths, ick!

I wish I were in it

I cannot quit loving it

It’s so warm and cosy

I’m safe and really dozy

In it come lovely dreams

Of animals, books, forests and streams

I wish I was there now

But I’m not allowed

Ah well, it’ll be there tonight

And when the sun makes it light

I am in love with my bed

I know, this is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not just a little bit

It’s the first thing I think of in the morning

When the sun is yawning

And the last thing I think of at night

Although it isn’t right

I think about it all day

Wishing I hadn’t gone away

I have an inexplicable attraction to my bed

And I think that’s enough said

Although when I’m sitting in lessons

Especially those early morning sessions

I wish I were with it

I cannot quit

Loving it

I love to be in it, warm and cosy

And safe, incredibly dozy

In it come lovely dreams

Of people, animals, books and what God deems

I wish I were there now

That is a solemn vow

Ah well, it’ll be there tonight

And when the sun makes it light

I am in love with my bed

I know, this is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not just a little bit

It’s the first thing I think of when I awake

Because every thing else in this world seems fake

And the last thing I think of at night

When I cry over my daily fight

I think about it all day

Wishing I hadn’t gone away

It’s the only place I can be me

And shut out all I don’t want to see

When I am sitting, alone in the crowd

Waiting to make the people I love proud

I wish I were just at home in bed

And I think that’s enough said

And yet, it’s no longer warm, safe and cosy

It’s scary, being impossibly dozy

After a long dark night of disturbing nightmares

Sleeping with the light on; I have many cares

Still, I wish I were there now

To sleep, though I don’t know how

Ah well, it’ll be there tonight

And when the sun makes it light

I am in love with my bed

I know this is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not just a little bit

In the morning, when I’m awake

I love it for someone else’s sake

It’s where you are nearest

Lying next to me, my own dearest

At night, we can talk the dark away

Keeping bad thoughts and demons at bay

Then there is no place for words, just

Touch and taste and love and lust

When I’m sitting at my desk all day

I wish I hadn’t gone away

Thinking of it, brings a blush to my face

My heart thumping as if it’s in a race

I cannot quit, loving it

I love to be in it, safe and cosy in your arms

Skin to skin, incredibly dozy, warmed by your charms

With you I have lovely dreams

Of the future, whatever God deems

I wish I was there now

So I can be with you, even if it’s to row

Ah well, you’ll be there tonight

And when the sun brings morning delight

I am in love with my bed

I know that is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not just a little bit

It’s the first thing I think of in the morning

Waiting for the sun to begin yawning

And the last thing of at night

Although it isn’t right

I struggle to leave at the start of the day

The second I do, I wish I hadn’t gone away

I have an inexplicable attraction to my bed

And I think that’s enough said

When I’m sitting at my desk at work

I find myself thinking of it with a jerk

I wish I were with it

I cannot quit, loving it

It’s where I go to escape, in a book

In dreams; it’s my safe, cosy and warm nook

I leave loneliness behind, even when I cannot sleep

Forgetting my cares, even when all I want to do is weep

I wish I were there now

That is a solemn vow

Ah well, it’ll be there tonight

And when I see the sun make it light

I am in love with my bed

I know this is a weird thing to have said

But I am in love with it

And not even a little bit

It’s the first thing I think of in the morning

Just as the sun is dawning

And the last thing I think of at night

Going to sleep, at nine, alright?

I think about it all day

Even when I’ve not gone away

Sitting reading, remembering in my bed

And I think that’s enough said

When I’m sitting, surrounded by nostalgia, thinking

How this is where I played as a child, sinking

Under the covers as a teen, hiding from the world

As a young adult, and then with lovers, toes curled

Lastly, I love to be in bed, warm and cosy

And safe, incredibly dozy

While my grandchildren sit beside me

Playing, chattering or reading on my knee

I wish I was there now

That is a quiet vow

Ah well, it’ll be there tonight

And if I see the sun make it light

I’m in love with my bed

I know this is a weird thing to have said

But I’m proud of it

And not just a little bit

I am a writer!

So, I have a cunning plan. I have had an idea for a story in my head for more than half my lifetime now. It's been percolating over the years, starting with the premise of how the power of one girl's imagination both enhances and ruins her life. Then it brought in mental illness, which was only natural as it makes sense with the imagination aspect and it's what was going on in my life at the time. Finally, I brought in Greek mythology, specifically the nature of fate, which has lead me to come up with a series of books on other Greek mythological figures. Talk about getting ahead of myself! I have the chapters named and outlined, the characters all drawn out, the plotline and some chapters written. I even have a Spotify playlist! So all I have to do now is write it.

I don't know why it's taken me this long, apart from a combination of time, energy and self-esteem. No matter how many times I tell myself that I should never compare my work with others, that it's not that they are better, they just have a different point of view, my lack of confidence always gets in the way. Creativity isn't a competition and everyone's perspective is valid and one of my brothers drunkenly told me he once thought I shouldn't bother being a writer as how could I come up with something new, but now he thinks I have something to say, which I was moved by more than I should.

I've always known I'm a writer, from my love of books and stories; I will thank my parents forever for teaching me to read before I started school, so throughout my primary school years, my reading age was double my actual age, so much so one of my teachers compared me to Matilda, I even looked like her; when I got a commendation for a story I wrote when I was about 7; when I got a letter from the headmaster praising my A-Level work (even school and university couldn't ruin my love of creative writing); when I just had to write, to get words down; when I was getting inspiration from anywhere; when I was writing as therapy; when I was writing as easily as breathing.

Then the anxiety and panic attacks struck. I tried to write, to get my emotions and thoughts down, but I was barely eating and couldn't sleep properly, so I didn't have the energy and what energy I had was concentrated on not failing my A-Levels, trying to maintain friendships and just getting through the day. The myth of the tortured artist producing their best work is a fallacy. That is unless you don't succumb to it. Illness turns you inwards, so what work you do create is incredibly self-centred, which can be amazing and insightful, but it's not a writer's best work. You don't get inspiration from the world; your life is closed off, insular and your vision is through a tunnel of your own making. So I stopped writing. I did start again when I did my university undergrad degree, but it wasn't the same. However I am a writer at heart and I'm in the best place I've ever been with my anxiety. Inspiration has started to win through again. I can't think about all those wasted years, just now I want to, and am able to, achieve my dream of being a writer.

Right, on to my cunning plan. If I blog about how my writing is going every week, it will force me to do something. So expect a weekly blog from me, hopefully I will actually have written something by this time next week!