Uninvited guest

Oh, hello Anxiety. Not content to stay in the background then. I could do without you today, or maybe that's why you're here; teaching your peers is way more nerve-wracking than students. You have company; a head cold is just being kept at bay, the stomach is flaring up and the vertigo is stronger than usual. Yet that's done me a favour as they're all cancelling each other, sapping your power. But my body is trolling me, that's what I call it when it seems to be attempting to sabotage my life. My monthly visitor has come early, bringing with it its troublesome attendants, the worst being emotional vulnerability. Hence, you again Anxiety.

You're getting easier to live with though. That's the right term; I can live with you Anxiety. Anxiety can be managed. You don't suffer from it, fight or battle it, but live with it. And I more than managed today. I coped. I didn't let you Anxiety stop me. You didn't stop me from having breakfast despite the nausea and stomach issues. I didn't let you make me smaller, hunch over; I stood with my head held high. I didn't let you take over, filling my brain with what ifs, thinking about what could go wrong, catastrophising (technical term) so I end up believing it will all go wrong. No panic attacks this time. I got through it and a few years ago, I wouldn't have been able to say that.

You're uninvited and unnannounced Anxiety. Sometimes I leave the door ajar for you and receive your warning signs. But the door was firmly shut this time and you gave me no warning. So, while you're here Anxiety as an uninvited guest, you won't mind me ignoring you, but I will say goodbye when you go.

A daffodil for this Spring day

Holiday inspiration

Wales will always have a special place in my heart, as do most of the places we went to on holiday when I was a child: Cornwall, Tenerife and Scotland. My holiday didn't get off to the best of starts as I was ill when we went and had to have the last day before we left off work. I was feverish, which is good for the imagination and the first few days, I wrote something whenever I had the time. I've written a poem that has always eluded me, finally managing to describe what a panic attack feels like in a poem. I'm going to save it for the book though. I just want to share a few holiday moments here that have inspired me, either for the book, for other pieces or in terms of mental clarity.

Aberglasney house and gardens

The previous times we went to Wales were either in the Summer or the Autumn half term, this is the first time we've been in daffodil season and they were everywhere! I finally understand what Wordsworth meant when he described them as a golden host. They never fail to brighten any mood.

Blue morpho butterfly

There is nothing better than achieving something you have long strived to get, for me this holiday it was a photo of a blue morpho butterfly with its wings open. There was a butterfly house at the National Botanic Garden of Wales and one was very obliging. They're my favourite butterfly and epitomise the ephemeral in my eyes: delicate, beautiful, powerful, ethereal and all too fleeting. They also represent my state of mind!

Laugharne estuary

As I said in my previous post, Laugharne has a hold on me unlike any other place I've been to. Going back after 20 years, seeing a view we used to see every day was pure nostalgia and gave me a boost I will never forget. Other things I barely remember, but not that view; it's ingrained in my memory.

My parents outside Laugharne Castle

We finally made it inside Laugharne Castle, after the fourth time of trying! I took inspiration from one of the greats, Dylan Thomas, who stayed at the castle and famously made Laugharne his home. His deep connection with his sense of place strikes a deep chord.

A blurry photo of an otter at Laugharne Castle

A day after I bought a cuddly otter at the National Botanic Garden of Wales; I picked it up and just couldn't put it down again; I saw a real live otter! I call it strange foresight. It's my first one in the wild and it was one of the highlights of my holiday.

Laugharne gravestone poem

Creative inspiration can be found in the weirdest of places, for instance a churchyard where I found this gravestone poetry. It sums up my feelings of revisiting Laugharne and how much of an impact it has had on me. I would love for my eternal resting place to have such a view.

The Mumbles causeway and lighthouse

Finally, spending time with my parents, having them all to myself, was a treasure. Even if we were silent, just sitting in each other's company, it was special. Going to a place my Mum had always wanted to go to, seeing another's pleasure, there is no greater inspiration, nor motivation.

A writing or writer's holiday

They say never go back. Nothing is ever as good as we remember. Sometimes they're right. I went to Scotland last year, to a hotel we went to years and years ago and had always wanted to return to and it wasn't the same. Mostly, because there were fewer red squirrels because they had cut down a lot of the trees. I also went back to the Lake of Menteith and Inchmahome Priory a few years ago and it was nowhere near as magical as the first time. But that place had grown to near mythic-like status in my mind, so much so, I constantly wear a ring on my left hand I bought there to remind me of the place and it helps me when I'm anxious; it centres me, grounds me and brings me serenity, taking me back to the first time I went there and luckily the second time hasn't marred the memory of bright sunshine after a rainy morning; the clouds literally parted as we got there; having the island almost to ourselves and the instant peace I felt as soon as I stepped off the boat and onto the island. I never take the ring off, even when I'm having a panic attack and all my jewellery and some clothes have to come off as it all feels constricting, that ring always stays on.

The Lake of Menteith and Inchmahome, so serene

However I'm returning to an area of the world I haven't been to for almost 20 years: Carmarthernshire. I went to Aberystwyth, Machynlleth and Ceredigion as recently as five years ago; Aberystwyth is where I did my library degree; but not further south. I love those three place names, spelling them, without help I might add, and mentally sounding them out. We had a favourite resort we stayed in many times near Laugharne, the home of the poet Dylan Thomas. We're not staying there as that would be a nostalgic step too far, but we will go back to Laugharne. I hope it lives up to the treasured memories. The last time we were there, I didn't have a digital camera, a mobile phone or any technology really other than a Tamagotchi! I'm hoping it will help clear my mind, shake off this fug and blow away this mental fog.

Laugharne beach

Basically I'm hoping this Easter holiday is going to force out this writer's block. Yes, I'm finally admitting I have writer's block. For me, that phrase makes me think about a lack of ideas, fear of the blank page and procrastination. However writer's block is at heart about a loss of confidence, fear of not being good enough and, okay, procrastination. Anyway, I've written about writer's block before and far more eloquently.

Mental veil

It feels like there's a veil between me and the world right now, where I'm existing, not living. I'm not experiencing anything other than on a shallow level, not making enough ties, bonds or relationships. Nothing is reaching me, tugging at my heart, funny bone or tear ducts. Apart from watching Harry Hill and Martin Kemp on Bake Off which did all three. Is it worrying that people I will never meet incite reactions far beyond those from the people I love and care about? It's difficult to explain, but I've felt this way many times during my life, sometimes so much I convince myself I'm an automaton, sometimes its only momentary. But this mental weather has set in. So, onward to Wales and forging deeper connections.

Just write too

Trust

Tells you what you want to hear

Tells you what you don’t want to hear

Doesn’t tell you what you should hear

Need to hear

Anxiety tells you your worst fears

Anxiety makes it so you can’t see the way forward

Anxiety is afraid of the future

Fears uncertainty

Depression tells you your worst thoughts about yourself

Depression makes you feel as nothing is worthwhile

Depression dwells on the past so you can’t live

Only exist

The voice of conscience is a liar

It makes it so all you can see is you

It colours the world so you can’t see through

Can’t see the truth

Everything is all or nothing

Everything is always and never

Everything is black and white

No shades of grey

You can’t trust your mind

You can’t trust your body

You can’t trust yourself

You can’t trust it

Mental health

I Weigh

A wonderful, patient and supportive family

Against a head full of thoughts that weigh me down 

The powerful resilience of half a lifetime living with daily anxiety

With the burden of a chronic illness, dizziness and vertigo

The need to express myself creatively

Alongside the frustration of unrealised potential

An ability to lose myself in books, films and TV

Beside a crippling lack of confidence and doubt

An insatiable curiosity and need to learn

Yet the knowledge it can never be fulfilled

A compassionate and empathetic nature

That comes with the burden of womanhood

Wide and wonderful hips

Together with a skewed self-image

My job, my vocation: a profession and a passion

Unmatched by a wearying personal loneliness

I weigh up a life full of contradictions

Dreamcatcher

We all need someone to catch us when we fall, but for most of us, the only person we can rely on is ourselves. Physical falls can be embarrassing, painful and potentially devastating, but time heals or allows us to become accustomed. Mental falls are hard to see, harder to deal with and can become physical, but they can be managed. Emotional falls are incapacitating, all-consuming and all-encompassing, but usually momentary either in the moment or for a period of time.

There are people to go to for aid: medical professionals, family and friends. However, we let our dreams fall every day. We nurture them, build them up and work towards them. We look for people to help us realise them and some may succeed. Yet, the vast majority simply let them go. They drift unchecked from our lives. They are thrown to the ground in frustration and anger and disgust. They are lain tenderly to rest and then abandoned.

But what if there was someone there to catch them for you, keep them until you have need of them again, care for them while you make yourself ready for them? From the smallest that is barely visible to the human eye, to the biggest that sucks the oxygen out of the room. From the brightest that is full of hope, to the dimmest that is a fleeting thought. From the fullest that has physical presence, to the merest wisp of a thing. All are caught, captured and maintained, waiting for when all promise is lost and they fade away into the void of broken dreams, or they are taken up again, life is brought back into them and they are introduced to the world. What if there were a catcher of dreams?

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: