Repeating The Mantra

Now I've written about this before, but it's worth repeating so I'll write it again. It follows on from the previous post about anxiety, but is more geared towards those of us with actual personality disorders whose disorder and fragmentation becomes heightened and exaggerated in states of anxiety. Anyway, hope I'm not repeating myself too much.

My biggest source of anxiety is confined spaces; more specifically, confined spaces inhabited (and in some cases controlled) by other people. My abject fear and world-weariness means that I now suffer anxiety in pretty much any environment, but confined spaces are still pretty much the number one cause of alarm. I have a number of different ways of dealing with that anxiety, most of which work to a certain degree. But it is that process which exacerbates the problem. Because I have no definitive method of coping which works every time, what happens is that my brain becomes scrambled and I find myself jumping around between different mental states, trying desperately to settle in one until another scary thought pops up and forces me to switch again. Which, in a contained environment populated by other people, isn't exactly the most sensible thing to be doing.

Method Number One is the most reliable and the one that works the most often. The mantra for this method is simply "stop thinking". So I do. I simply imagine my thoughts as intertwined with the nervousness, and simply let go of it. I can literally feel the weight being lifted off my shoulders, and after a while it does tend to calm me down. I still have thoughts, but the thoughts seem to be at a much safer distance. "Well if this method works so well", I hear you say "then why don't you stick with it every time?" Because it doesn't seem like a long-term solution, that's why. Simply choosing to keep scary thoughts at a safe distance doesn't deal with the underlying causes of why I'm getting those thoughts in the first place. The problems come when I mentally "switch off", and a method such as this relies on never switching off. That said, since this method is able to pacify me on a train for 2 hours then it certainly has its merits.

Method Number Two tells me to stop thinking too, but in a different way. Rather than "letting go" of my fear and self-consciousness, I surrender to it and attempt to feel it rather than think it. I try to imagine a negative trade-off between feelings and thoughts...ie, the more I feel the less I think. This is the state of mind that I adopt for the visual meditations that I've started doing, because I feel compelled towards this state of mind by the images that I'm seeing. What I do with this method is to imagine that the nervousness represents bodily restraint and restriction, and assume that the fear I feel is in reality a fear of being contained within a body. So in this sense, the physical fear sensations can be seen as a kind of gravitational pull that is quite literally grounding me and holding me in place. The "fear" comes from thinking thoughts that attempt to transcend the limits of bodily restraint. Now when done correctly, this method can be very successful. It really relaxes me and enables me to sleep more deeply than I otherwise would. But the drawback is that it makes me feel very vulnerable and fragile, and as such is probably not the most suitable for crowded public places or transport. It does work, but it only works if I get myself in the correct place, and in public I find that very hard.

And so we come to Method Number Three. Method Number Three relies on good old-fashioned gumption, hard work and the art of Being A Man. The mantra here is simply "hold your nerve". Don't let go of it, don't surrender to it, just hold it and hold on tight. This method makes me feel stronger and more resilient than the other two, but I can always feel the fear bubbling under the surface. What tends to happen is that the fear becomes too much, and I end up "letting go" as per method number one. I never like doing this, but the object of the exercise is to feel the most calm and not to feel the most "manly". However it is in this state of mind that I feel the most like a responsible citizen, so there are always forces within me telling me that this is the right mentality to adopt. It's not that the other methods discourage responsibility; it's just that this method makes me the most aware of it. But as you've probably gathered by now, the awareness is a big part of the problem. There is no "good" and "bad" awareness...just a chronic self-consciousness that I need to get rid of.

In some ways I'm probably fortunate to have these coping strategies, as it's definitely better than having no coping strategies at all. But if only I could find a way of integrating them all into one universal strategy that didn't contradict itself then I'd be right as rain! I have to get the bus into town today, which I'm absolutely dreading as I haven't got the bus in weeks. But if all goes well then I'll feel much empowered by that.

EDIT: I started off with the first method and didn't get the bus into town, but switched to the second method and got the bus home. Guess that vindicates that then. I feel all empowered now!

Tackling The Blaze

Major drama here this week...the house nearly blew up! There was a major leak in one of the flats downstairs, and all the water went rushing into the cellar. Right where the electrics are. Fortunately the cellar is big enough for the main meters to be located on the other side, but there are some loose wires hanging from the ceiling right where the torrent of water got in. I have no idea what they are connected to, but how they survived is a miracle.

We had to call the fire brigade out, because I (supposedly the man of the house!) did not even know where the stop-taps were. We couldn't get an emergency plumber or electrician, so as a last resort I phoned the fire service. And in they came in their alpha uniforms, delivering the goods in no time at all. Leak stopped, no fire, no crisis. Job's a good 'un.

That's what being a man is all about, isn't it? I should know, but I don't. All I could manage at the height of the crisis was to pace up and down, and generally do my utmost to convince the new tenants that, yes, that ginger bloke with the spazzy mannerisms really is crazy. Shameful. Absolutely shameful. I deserve to die for that, and if the truth be told I probably will.

Whilst I am in no doubt that what happened was an accident, it's fair to say that the new tenants have a habit of bringing trouble with them wherever they go. The boyfriend has served time and is a known thief and junkie, and the girlfriend...well quite frankly she acts, speaks and looks like a prostitute. That's not to say that she is, and it's not intended as a slur on prostitutes, but that is how she comes across. She shouts as only a drug-addled prostitute can shout, as though merely speaking would imply some level of intimacy. And when the boyfriend borrowed something from me the other night, he lowered his voice and said knowingly that if ever I needed anything then all I had to do was ask. I wondered what he meant by that, because he knows I'm on my own, he knows I don't do drugs, and he's sharp enough to recognise what's missing from my life right now. But I wouldn't, in case you're wondering. And now that she knows that I'm crazy, I'm pretty sure that neither would she.

The whole episode has left me feeling very isolated and very scared. I've had to put an SOS out to community mental health groups, because I have to get out of here and I'm not strong enough to do it on my own. I am quite literally grounded...I can't even get on public transport because the panic attacks are so bad, and I'm attacked by self-contradicting negative thoughts at breakneck speed. I'm simply not strong enough or calm enough to move by myself, so I've had to put out a call for volunteers to help me. (The friends I once had are long gone, after I and they recoginsed that I had nothing to bring to the table).

But I have to get out of here, and fast. The new neighbors are bad enough, and the idiot next door to me is getting worse by the day. He's slowly stewing in his own pigswill, and he listens to me all the time. He's complained to the landlord about me staying up at night and shutting doors, but guess why I shut the doors? It's bad enough living here as it is, but recent events have really put me on edge and it's fragmenting my mind even more. I'm sorry if there is a lot of anger and paranoia in this post that isn't particularly pleasant to read, but I had to vent it somehow and this is the safest way.

Now that I've finished this post, I'm about to start what I call Handyman 101. Basic domestic stuff that you need to know...how water systems work, how electric systems work, how to use tools that a trained fucking chimp could use. Do you think if I say Handyman 5 times I'll actually become one?

Testing The Resolve

Oooo I'm being tested tonight! I was doing so well, and acheived and maintained a level of stability over the past 2 weeks that I've hitherto been unaccustomed to. But tonight I let it all seep through, and boy am I paying the price!

Trouble is, whenever I've faced a crisis, it was always what I took refuge in. ("It" has a name, but it's becoming a name that dare not speak it's name) But now, with that refuge having been exposed by reality, I am left floundering and disoriented. I'm sure it's why I suffer so much with claustrophobia, because I always had it as an "escape", and that escape is no more. I have to face the fact that, ultimately, there is no escape.

It's not like there's a major crisis tonight, but it's enough of a crisis to make me want to escape. There's a new guy moved in downstairs and he's brought his girlfriend with him, and I can sense the possibility for trouble. I met him for the first time the other night, while he was in the process of hiding his weed because he thought I looked like a snitch. (If that was the first impression i gave him then I've failed the test already). Apparently he's an ex-criminal, been inside but going straight. But it's his girlfriend that worries me. She's a rabid racist based on bad experiences she's had with black guys in some of the less salubrious parts of town. I'm not black, but I'm worried anyway because clearly she has serious issues, and I just KNOW she's gonna take one look at me and freak out. She'll think I'm a creep, because women like that always do. And I'm scared. I'm scared of scaring women, I'm scared of being beaten up, and I'm scared of losing my home for something that isn't my fault. But most importantly, I'm scared of the effect it will have on my state of mind. Because, remember, the thing that I would always take refuge in is not an option anymore. It is not the promised land I always thought it was. It is a delusion and a symptom of a personality disorder, and I know that now.

So I'm trying to gather myself, regain my composure, and go through all the little rituals that have kept me stable for the past couple of weeks. I was going to say "wish me luck", but it is not a question of luck. It is a question simply of doing what needs to be done. And now that I know what needs to be done, I really can't say that I have any excuses.