40 Things That Are Pissing Me Off Right Now

1. There's an ulcer on that taught strip of skin, the bit under the tongue? Yeah;
   
2. A duck may have abandoned her NINE INCUBATING CHILDREN for a booty call;
3. I stepped on a large stone, twice;
4. No matter what I do, I can't drop one stupid pound in weight;
5. The above is a result of chocolate cravings;
6. The above is a result of depression;
7. People's voices are much louder than they need to be;
8. I forgot to make myself a brew upon waking;
9. I keep having 'Game of Thrones' themed nightmares;
10. People all over the world insist upon murdering one another;
11. Women are still being treated like cattle;
12. Each time I sit to write my brain releases the 'shit' valve, filling my head full of useless things and rendering me unable to focus;
13. Writing and I are experiencing a fucking great speed-bump in our marriage;
14. The Hobbit is shit and I'm reading it;
15. Medway;
16. I've managed to kill a succulent;
17. Being in the same room all the time;
18. Being uncomfortable out of the room mentioned above to the point of severe distress;
19. The physical presence of another human. Any human; *
20. The physical presence of myself;
21. DVDs that I allowed folk to borrow that have become damaged since they were loaned;
22. Thanks a fucking bunch for the above;
23. Credit Card debt;
24. The supplier of above card cold-calling me to try and sap me of more money;
25. The same supplier not believing I'm the card holder;
26. The amount of fat and salt in everyday foods;
27. My novel;
28. All the short stories that either won't work out or are rejected;
29. The thought of getting accepted and recognised as a writer;
30. Healthy, happy people living their lives;
31. The same people telling me to go out there and 'get it';
32. The same people again telling me 'everything will work out';
33. Lacking a pug;
34. Having no real purpose in life other than to feel angry about everything;
35. Lacking the capacity to develop and maintain relationships;
36. My washing;
37. Having Fibromyalgia;
38. Being sleepless;
39. Temperatures below 18 degrees C and above 19 degrees C;
40. Being alone.*

*Paradox

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With good intentions…

I set myself far too many tasks last week. Or was it this week? I forget. Anyhow! I made a promise in an earlier post to write a series on Creativity for the Agoraphobiac, that is, anyone who struggles with going out and being around a lot of people.

As I explained, this condition is a nightmare to live with but that doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy the activites that more socially able people enjoy.

I’ve chosen a selection of creative activites to write about in the coming weeks, activities that I find fun, educational and theraputic. The best thing is of course, you can do all of these things within the safety of your own haven and invite close friends to join you if you’re feeling sociable.

Each post will focus on one of the following and (hopefully) provide my own examples and wisdom for you to draw on:

• Knitting
• Photography
• Drawing / sketching
• Cooking / baking
• Gardening
• Letter writing

I think this is a fair list for now but it may be added to in the future. Look out for the first installment, Creativity for the Agoraphobiac: Knitting, in the next couple of weeks.

Forgive me for making you all wait so long if you’ve been hanging around for these posts; I’m not feeling my best at the moment. I’ll do what I can, a little at a time, as anyone should when they’re under the weather.

Three things I’m going to do today

After yesterday’s realisation that I’m not actually Xena – Warrior Princess, I’ve decided to pick three activities I know I’ll complete today.

1. Read
2. Write
3. Knit

There. Much simpler.

Things I want to do today

1. Finish reading A Room of One’s Own by Virginia Woolf
2. Finish the draft of my short story in preparation for either the Mslexia 2012 Short Story Competition or the Bristol Prize
3. Complete the first wristwarmer I’m knitting and begin the second one
4. Complete sock 1/2 that I’m knitting
5. Go outside
6. Write the next post to continue the ‘Creativity for Agoraphobiac’ series
7. Draft ideas for my novella
8. Redraft Scene 2, Chapter 6 of Trace
9. My yoga practice
10. Write letters to friends
11. All of the above without exhausting myself

Update: It’s almost 5 pm and I’ve barely touched the list. Some of this will have to be moved to tomorrow.

Update 2: Getting there. I’ve decided to pick three more I know I can accomplish by the end of the day. Number 11 obviously isn’t one of them…

Update 3: So picking three was a bit adventurous. Moral of the story: be realistic about what you can achieve in one day. I’ll do more tomorrow.

Creativity for the Agoraphobiac Part One

Agoraphobia is the fear of crowds, being in public spaces, being around strangers, people in general, being in unfamiliar places or away from home. It commonly arises alongside Panic Disorder, a debilitating mental condition where the smallest thing can make you freak out and feel as if you’re about to die.

Anxiety / panic attacks are horrific. Anyone who has ever become suddenly aware of the weirdness of a situation and started to sweat because of realising that weirdness, knows what it means to experience anxiety and panic. Long-term sufferers live with that feeling every day, sometimes in that mild form, other times in such an extreme way, medication is required to sedate them.

I am one of the X million people in the UK who live with Panic Disorder and have developed agoraphobia as a result. I’m going to make a list now, one of my favourite things to do. This list outlines my experiences as an agoraphobiac.

Crowds

The thought of three or more people in one place at one time, near me, makes my stomach shrivel. I rarely venture out at the moment, due to a serious relapse, but if I do, I have to plan my outings and set myself time limits for how long I can stay out for. I do not go beyond my village, a mere half-mile up the road. If people start pouring in, I have to leave. Symptoms include:

•  Sweating
• Dry mouth
• Headache
• Nausea
• Dizziness, light-headedness, feeling faint
• Shortness of breath, sometimes a lack of breathing altogether
• Hyperventilation
• Difficulty swallowing
• Palpitations
• Chest pains
• Sudden bowel movements (hilarious fun…)

There are probably more but I can’t recall them and herein resides another element of my mental health that must be explained before I move on to the next experience.

I dissociate. What that means is that under stressful and / or frightening situations, I disconnect from the experience. It’s not an uncommon thing. Dissociation is a psychological device which enables us to survive traumatic experiences. If you’ve ever been in a nasty accident, experienced a bereavement or even seen a film that’s scared the buckets out of you, you might have a hard time remembering the event and feeling any emotions that would naturally be connected to it. This is our brain’s way of protecting us.

My own life experiences have been traumatic in a consistent enough way to make dissociation a regular defence mechanism so that now it happens naturally. I can’t control it and I don’t know or understand all of my triggers yet. What I do know is that when I have a panic attack, I disconnect. I can’t remember everything that goes on.

Public Spaces

They don’t have to be packed full of people to terrify me. For reasons I don’t understand, I experience spatial and visual glitches. I call it ‘Alice in Wonderland Syndrome’ because either I’ve become really small or everything around me has become monolithic. Even the sense of my own physical body becomes warped. The same list of symptoms applies and more often than not, I leg it and try to find somewhere safe to hide. Mostly I don’t go out at all.

Stranger Danger

Meeting strangers is a nightmare. I remember my first day back on the second year of my MA. Not only was I in a small, public space surrounded by a crowd of people, I didn’t know a single one of them. But I was determined to finish my studies and I set myself a target: make a friend.

Having the willies about strangers doesn’t lend itself to making friends, I can tell you that. What if I make a complete tit of myself? I’m a weirdo anyway; I have a habit of staring, I say inappropriate jokes and statements when nervous, and when I get really wound-up, I start ticking.

Ticks are physical twitches, involuntary movements. Mine are mostly facial but at my worst, I roll my shoulders out-of-place and continuously wipe my thumb and index finger over my brow and nose, one after the other. I fidget, jig my legs, twist my fingers and experience sudden spasms that make me turn my head quickly. I try to calm down but it’s not easy. I make odd noises too. All this in front of people I don’t know, who don’t know me, can become too much to handle.

Public Transport

I hate buses. Trains I can just about cope with. Cars are bearable only in cases where I trust the driver. Recently, all have been off the menu. Simply put, I don’t want to be in a confined space with other people and I certainly dot want to be transported to places where there are other people. I refuse to learn to drive too because I’m terrified I’ll end up getting lost or cause an accident because I dissociate and freak out.

Home Alone

I think I can be left to my own devices at home for around fifty minutes before I start to panic. What if my Dad has had an accident? What if he’s unwell? What if I hurt myself? What if I become sick? There’s no one here to help me.

There are days where I experience nothing. What I mean is, I’m so out of my mind and confused, I can’t work out what the kettle is for. I know I want to make a cup of tea but then I realise that I don’t know what tea is, let alone how to make it.

I can’t account for what happened in any precise way, but I remember wanting to cook some scrambled eggs. I’d not been eating properly and for once, I was hungry. With making a cup of tea being hard enough, I think I must have become disenchanted with the eggs and distracted by something else. I remember the TV, which was turned off at the time, being fascinating.

I returned to the kitchen some time later (I’ve no idea how much time had passed) and noticed that it didn’t smell right. It smelt thick and sort of sweet. There was a hushing sound. I’d turned the large gas ring on, intending to cook those eggs, and walked away without realising what I’d done. I could have blown my home to pieces, myself along with it.

Sweet Dreams

All of the above does not make it easy to relax. I have terrible trouble getting to sleep at night and maintaining that sleep, which is why I’m awake at almost 1:30 am writing this.

Exposure

Newspapers are off the agenda, along with news broadcasts. I have to carefully select any TV material (all apocalyptic material is to be avoided, no exceptions), and when viewing a film or episode of something, I have to make sure that I’m physically aware of my safety. Obviously I don’t go to the cinema or the theatre. A rarely watch TV. The films and shows I do watch can’t contain anything too heavy.

I got into Sherlock recently. The second episode scared me so much, I sat in bed crying for an hour. It wasn’t the hound; it was the setting. The open spaces of the moors juxtaposed with the claustrophobic trap of the research facility. And the tourists. God, the tourists…

Reading fiction also requires vigilance. Certain topics can make me throw the book across the room in terror, and I love books. I’m a bibliophile and proud. But I get so involved with the characters, I forget me and begin to experience them, their world and all the people and spaces, their fears and feelings. It spirals and I have to take a break, ground myself.

It helps to have someone who ‘gets me’ close to hand, when engaging in any TV or reading, for reassurance. To stop me from going off the deep end.

A Deeper Understanding 

It’s not just physical effects that panic and agoraphobia inflict. The mental side of living with these things is hellish.

• Wave goodbye to your self-esteem and confidence
• Say hello to increased periods of depression
• Reality becomes implausible
• Embarrassment makes it hard to seek comfort and advice
• Isolation breeds paranoia
• Mistrust strains relationships
• Fear paralyses efforts to break free
• Confusion erases time and memories

You’re probably feeling as miserable about this as I do now, after reading that. I’ve found however, that even if all of the above is going on and blocking my path to a happy, fulfilled life, I can always find a way around it. And if you’re in the same boat as me, so can you.

My next post, Creativity for the Agoraphobiac, Part Two, will be focused on the creative activities I enjoy but because of my mental health, are restricted. It sounds daunting I know, but I’m going to be finding ways to rediscover the pleasure of these activities without aggravating my fears and making myself sick.

Until then, I’m off to get some much-needed sleep.

Things to do when you’re trying to avoid writing

• Constantly pace the room
• Think about what you’re going to write, but don’t write a word of it
• Draw it instead
• Contemplate your diction
• Ruminate over how you divide and construct your paragraphs
• Plan dinners days/weeks/months in advance
• Write lists
• Frequently check your emails, re-reading the ones you’ve read ten times already
• Try out new hair styles
• File your nails to perfection – hands and feet
• Play with your pet. If you don’t have one, go out and acquire one then play with it when you get home
• Create fantasies of your perfect life/love/job/home
• Confront your theoretical problems and live them
• Daydream about later chapters
• Invite your characters over for tea and see if they respond
• If they do, don’t be tight; get the good tea out
• Let your character dominate the conversation and listen to what they have to say
• Watch their body language
• Learn from them
• Process your plot in your mind, over and over, until you’ve perfected complete sections of drama/dialogue
• Observe time, fastidiously, counting down the minutes until you can eat your next meal
• Read. Anything. Pick up the biggest novel you can find and read it
• Read it with a dictionary by your side
• Be patient

Places I’d like to live

• Cornwall
• A train, specifically the Trans-Siberian Railway or the First Great Western service from London Paddington to Land’s End
• The top of Rutherford College, UKC
• The top of Darwin Tower, UKC
• In someone’s bag
• A cottage in the middle of a forest clearing, close to a river
• A lighthouse
• British Columbia, Vancouver
• The Peak District

You know you’re a frustrated writer when…

• You stab cardboard boxes with your correcting pen
• You fantasize about becoming a marketing manager
• The thought of a being a ‘failed writer’ feels like it’d be a great success
• Your surroundings collapse into two-dimensional props, devoid of colour and significance
• You wake up from power-naps convinced that the last twenty-six years of your life have been a crazy dream
• You sob because you realize the last crazy twenty-six years of your life aren’t a dream
• Personal pronouns begin to really piss you off
• Your characters offer you advice
• You’d endure a rectal exam with a smile on your face just so you’d have something decent to write about
• Classical music seems to mock you
• Everything seems to mock you
• Depression is the most interesting thing to happen to you all week and you don’t give a toss
• You’ve given up caring about sounding pretentious
• All you want to do is finish the chapter.

 

Banana smoothie, Tiger Balm and Casta Diva

These three things combined soothe a migraine. I’d avoid the smoothie if you a mischievous stomach though.

I’ve been thinking of avoiding the obligatory ‘New Year’ post that creeps up at this time of year but just for a laugh, I think I’ll do it anyway and throw in a list of challenges to complete throughout the coming year. Not like a list of resolutions but just a bunch of stuff to do that I know I should do and could make for some interesting writing material:

1. Write a new post at least once a week

Yeah I know my track record has been sketchy but sometimes the words just aren’t there. Maybe I should take more photos.

2. Delete my other blogs that aren’t going anywhere

I get excited about loads of things all in one go and then fizzle out so it’s time I sat down and scraped off the good stuff from those blogs, threw them into this blog and then rid myself of my crumbling blog empire.

3. Take a certified grammar course

I know bits and pieces but like most people, I have a poor grasp of English grammar. My grasp is so tedious in fact, I’m not sure if I have poor grasp of or a poor grasp on. The course should remedy this along with my dissatisfaction with the gaping holes in my knowledge about language. Plus I’ll get to be a grammar snob and then start breaking the rules.

4. Reduce my material belongings by x%

Okay I couldn’t give you a real number then because I wouldn’t know what a percentage like that would physically translate to, but it’s going to be a lot of stuff. The books can stay, obviously, but many other things can be moved on to the nearest recycling bin. Rule of thumb: if I’ve not used it in the past year, bye-bye. I foresee much heartbreak.

5. Write 30,000 words of the novel

Hmmm alright you’ve got me here. I’m supposed to do that anyway but why keep it as a chore? I’ll write those words (possibly more) because I want to, not because I have to.

6. Knit a slouchy jumper

I’m sick of fashion dictating what I can wear so I’m going to knit my own unfashionable slouchy jumper, all black and full of deliberate holes.

7. Start a scrapbook

This is going to be easy but time-consuming. I’ve already got a scrapbook ready to be filled so I need to rummage through everything (which will occur when I crack on with number 4) and get sticking. That way I’ll have a place full of physical ideas to draw from for number 5.

8. Paint more

I love painting and sketching and have so far produced some nice pieces. I’m going to do more of this and open myself up to weird ways of observing.

9. Pace it

I have a dirty habit. It’s called taking on too much. I shall focus on a handful of things this year (with a list x points long), only giving my full attention to two activities at a time. And I’ll combine activities so that they spawn new ideas and teach me new things.

10. I was going to stop at 10 and I think I shall

This is my final challenge: know when to stop.

 

I’m satisfied with that lot. It works out at roughly one a month (with the exception of the novel) and I don’t see the need to take them on in the same order I’ve written them. Some will be ongoing, some will be quick. Some will be updated whilst others will be deleted, replaced and exhausted.

I hate New Year hype. It makes me so over-optimistic. I’d rather skip it and exist elsewhere.

Signs of Tiredness

1. You can feel eye sockets beginning to form in the back of your skull.
2. You need to pee – badly – but know that if you wait five minutes, your bladder will get so exhausted in telling you to pee, it’ll stopper itself up for the night.
3. The untidy bits of your home / room start to look quite reasonable.
4. Aching, you think it a good idea to watch that documentary, Ypres: Gas Hell, for the hundredth time because it just seems like a good idea. Remember, you’re tired.
5. Lists like this become increasingly nonsensical.
6. You’re not even sure if ‘nonsensicle’ is a word anymore.
7. The thought of using a dictionary to see if ‘nonsensical’ is a word makes you want to cry.
8. You simultaneously remember and forget that you have a spine.
9. You get jealous of your cat, laying there so peaceful and asleep.
10. You wake up your cat out of spite and then cry because you feel guilty.
11. You cry a lot.
12. You ramble.
13. It takes writing twelve points of utter, truthful rubbish to make you finally collapse into bed.