Drawing & painting classes

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I started at college again this week. This tackle box is my drawing tutors collection of supplies. Is it not a thing of beauty? 🙂 I find myself a little anxious about formal training, reluctant to lose my own style. But it was exciting, the smells, the easels, the simplicity of being told to put something in pallet and doing so – sometimes this simplicity escapes me. I made two drawings and one pair of paintings in the cool and warm primary colours. It’s been a long, long time since I’ve handled charcoal. I don’t think I’ve ever attempted to sketch a pot plant before.

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Here’s a sample of some of the other students work. Love seeing all the different styles.

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I’m happy to be back. It was a supreme effort of will not to immediately book into another two classes and double my workload. Which, in it’s own way, is a good sign. So, at least one day a week is now college day. I’ve had a pretty good week, very busy, lots of seeing people and talking about plans for the year. There’s a lot of things in the works and I’m still working out my priorities. It’s sounding promising that I may have enough support now to kick the DI back into gear and get a face to face support group off the ground again. I’m finding ways to go forwards and figure a path through all of this. I’m finding some support, which is very, very needed. And a lot of inspiration. Feeling hopeful.

Back to college

After two hours of sobbing in Rose’s arms down at the beach about all the ways I feel like a failure, I’m home again, showered, and going to bed for a 9am start to college tomorrow. I’m exhausted and my head hurts and my eyes hurt. I really don’t recommend this form of preparation.

But I’m also about 2 tonnes of high expectations and guilt and fear and confusion and self loathing lighter. Not enough to look at myself in a mirror, but enough to eat and drink and let someone say nice things to me, and if I’m very lucky, enough to sleep.

Threads

It‘s hot. I’m fried. Feel pretty terrible. Today and yesterday I’ve tried bringing Zoe to a friend’s to hang out in their air conditioning. It’s been trying, she’s whined in the crate and been desperate to chase the strange cats. Hopefully she’ll get used to it quickly. Or the vet will give me a clear idea of what temperature is ok to leave her at home so I can head off to cooler climes without her.

College starts tomorrow. I’m excited and exhausted. I had plans to paint my new studio this weekend that I had to put off due to the weather. I have massive admin to deal with although nothing urgent except my overdue backlog, which is nice. I keep getting sick. Endometriosis is making my life miserable. I may have to get back into the pill again, which is frustrating. This last year I’ve been off it is the first I haven’t gained weight. On the other hand in sick every month and very anaemic. Stupid health.

I’m not getting much sleep. I’ve just finished reading A million little pieces by James Frey, which is dark and interesting. A study in self loathing and rage and attachment damage and addiction. I have almost nothing in common with him, and yet there’s themes I can so relate to. I’m struck by his rejection of the 12 Step program, despite all evidence and pressure that it was his only hope. I understand being in a place where the only path open to you simply and profoundly rings false. I understand his terror of the converted, the way their stories fill him with emptiness instead of inspiration. The way both the depraved and the cured can seem to be trapped by scripts from which they cannot help but read, no freedom, no creativity, none of the bizarre tenderness of lives that are created by following that inner call to those things that deeply move you.

I have no idea what feels like to be him. Or to be a mother. Or a nun. Or a refugee. We are so limited to our own experiences. We live in different worlds. When we forget that, we pass harsh judgements on things we don’t understand. And yet, threads unite us. Like the tension between learning from the experiences of others and needing to find our own truths to live by.

Zoe says hello

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It’s a bit warm here today. Zoe is chilling indoors with Rose and I, under fans. I’ve spent a lot of time home with her through these past couple of heatwaves. I’ve enjoyed it. She’s 21 months old now, and the mad puppy who chewed couches and demolished the back yard is fading into memory. She’s maturing into a really easy going dog. I love her to bits.

Her health has been fantastic and the vet was really happy with her at the annual checkup. She gets along really well with other dogs, sleeps very happily in her crate (was the easiest dog in the world to crate train, took no effort at all) stays behind the baby gates indoors despite being able to jump 5 foot fences, and only barks when people come near my place. She copes fine if I’m sick and can’t walk her for a day or two more, which takes off a lot of the strain for me. She could do with the extra level of dog training and I’d like to be able to get her into that this year.

We still have some areas that cause difficulties. She’s very afraid of thunder and fireworks, I’m going to buy her a snug dog jacket for dogs with anxiety attacks and see if that helps. I’m also going to fence off my window so that she can’t get to it and destroy the screen if she’s home alone when a bit of thunder happens. That’s going to make my life a lot easier. She’s also terrible for chasing cats. Not bad if they’re indoors, but outside is another matter. And I can’t leave her home while I go seeking cooler places to stay because it’s too hot for her out in my yard.

Today we’re going to try taking her and her crate out and see how she goes in someone else’s place. It would be awesome to be able to head off to cooler climes with her on days like this. Hope it works out 🙂

Being an adult and using routines to your advantage

I feel like I’ve mad a monumental discovery recently. It’s kind of stupid, probably won’t mean much to anyone else, and I suspect the rest of you were onto this way before it’s occurred to me, because I can be a bit dim like that… but ROUTINES! Wow. They make life so much easier.

What the hell am I talking about? A bunch of things all kind of linked up in my brain recently. One is that I have a new evening routine when I’m shutting my house down and going to bed. Zoe now sleeps in her crate in the lounge with food and water and a toy to chew and a treat, Tonks has her food and water on the washing machine in the laundry. I’ve finally created this little nightly ritual of feeding and topping up water for both of them, letting Zoe outside for a pee, putting her to bed with a frozen treat from the freezer stuffed into her Kong toy (usually wet dog food or yoghurt frozen in ice cube trays). Then I wrap any food scraps in newspaper and put them in the green bin, and clean out the litter tray into newspaper and put that in the green bin. Lastly turn on drippers onto potted garden, lock doors, and close or open windows depending on the weather.

Obviously there’s other routines such as brushing teeth etc but I think of them as separate because this one is pretty new and anyone can do it eg Rose and I take it in turns or take on different parts of it if she’s staying over and I do it on my own if it’s just me here. The first few nights it took almost an hour to do everything, partly because I kept forgetting bits of it and going to bed and having to get back up, and partly because of things like the dog food was kept in the laundry even though the dog bowl is in the lounge, and I have probably 5 places I kept old newspaper none of which I could find.

Now it takes about 10 minutes. If it’s bin night I add in putting the bins out. If I’m feeling sick I skip the litter tray and leave it for the morning. Linking these tasks together and turning them into a routine is making them much easier. I don’t have to think, or even be very awake. I can do them even if I’m feeling very depressed or sick or in a fair amount of pain (up to a point). They don’t take very long because there’s a pattern – let the dog out the back to pee, while she’s outside top up the cat’s food and water, while letting the dog back inside walk past the freezer and refill her Kong – it all works together. I don’t have to worry about when I last checked the water bowl. If I skip something for one night I know that it’s only been skipped for a night. I get more time in bed and less time staggering around my house. It’s a system. It’s a procedure.

Another thing – I recently wrote a checklist of how to get rid of spam for the DI Open Group on facebook. I have never understood or liked the corporate world of policy and procedures but I am starting to suspect that is for a few specific reasons such as poorly written ones, having them used in situations that can’t be reduced to a checklist, and not being allowed to question them when they don’t seem appropriate. This checklist was just writing down the process I do every time I delete spam. There’s a bunch of steps and if you forget one and get the order wrong, you can’t go back and fix it. Eg. if you delete the post before reporting it to facebook as spam, too bad. Having it written down has made this process so much simpler for me! I don’t have to remember the steps. It’s easy, it can be followed, it makes sense.

Another thing – I’m working on a post about dissociative amnesia and did some re reading of the topic recently. It reminded me about the different types of memory and what is called ‘procedural memory’ which is kind of like things you remember with your body instead of your mind. Like being able to remember your password as long as you have a keyboard in front of you, because your fingers remember which keys to type. Without a keyboard you find you can’t remember it. Procedural memory is very, very interesting stuff. It’s what emergency drills are trying to help you create, because it’s far less effected by stress. If you have a body memory of unlocking the fire door and going down the escape and counting heads in the safe point on the ground floor, you’ve got a lot more chance of being able to do those things in a real fire.

And that got me thinking about how, when I moved into a unit after a bout of homelessness, I found that I had lost all my routines. I had to mentally think about and plan every step of my day. Showering. Getting dressed. Brushing my teeth. Preparing food. Eating it. Putting dishes in the sink. Without routines, this took forever. It was incredibly frustrating and made me feel very slow and stupid. It took time before these things became more routine for me, so that I could just do them without thinking about them. Then they became easier and quicker and I could start to use the time to think about other things. Like brushing my teeth and planning what I’d eat for dinner.

Undoubtedly being multiple has added significantly to the difficulties I’ve had in this area. I have to write to do lists and keep a diary because I couldn’t possibly track my life otherwise. I would forget to pay bills, forget to turn up to college, forget about dates. My internal memory system is like a series of separate filing cabinets in different rooms. I can’t easily cross reference files. If I’m standing in one room looking at a file, it’s difficult to access any information from a different room. But, because I’m fairly co-conscious, some information is shared. It filters through all the rooms. Not in it’s entirety, not like sharing a file with all the rooms, more like an intercom in the rooms. A voice comes over explaining that a new addition has been made to a file. If you want more details, if you want photos and a blow-by-blow description of the file, you’ll have to go and look at it.

Procedural memory is not entirely shared either. One of the things that used to stress us is that when we used to sign to use our credit card, the signature was different depending on which part was out. Having said there, there is some overlap for my system. Many of us know how to drive, for instance, even if we have our own style and need the seat and mirrors to be at different positions. Routines in some ways seem to take this burden off other parts of our mind. We don’t have to think each step through and remember it all because it’s written down, and/or it’s in our procedural memory instead.

Lastly, this idea of growing up, and what it means to be grown up, the ways in which an adult and their place in the world is different from a child. I think a lot about this because it’s highly relevant to the way my system formed and the reason for being split. One of the things that seems to define adulthood is this notion of responsibility. Adults need to keep their own world running. They need to be able to pay bills and earn money and negotiate leases and pick up after themselves. They seem to be at risk from two different possibilities – one is not learning these skills and living a very chaotic existence, often at the expense of people around them who do a lot of picking up after them. The other is taking on these roles too much and losing what was childlike about themselves – no more play, or fun, or freedom – life becomes a routine that cannot be broken and that exists to serve the routine.

I feel like I’m starting to figure out that learning all these skills in the service of freedom and fun and play, is the goal. So I can go camping and walk in wild places because I’ve saved and bought good equipment and have a well stocked first aid kit and a lot of outdoor skills. If I go camping without them I’m in for huge trouble when something goes wrong. If I just save money I never go camping. If I build routines around things like keeping the house functioning, or doing admin, then I have free brain space to think about and plan other things that I like much more. I spend less time feeling frustrated and overwhelmed, less time looking for my shoes or discovering that dinner has gone mouldy in the fridge, and less time in crises because I’ve run out of dog food and money at the same time.

I think this is where routines work. Checklists that everyone in the household, or everyone in my own system can easily follow. Things that take away that burden of thinking and remembering every step. Things that free you to spend more time and more mental energy on the things that make you feel alive. It’s not an either/or, it’s a both/and. Learning more adult skills doesn’t have to lock me down to the kind of life I hate. It can help me build the kind of life I want. Well devised routines can give me back a chunk of the mental and emotional energy that I currently spend trying to track lots of things and make myself do them and hating myself when I fail. Rinsing a dirty dish or closing a cupboard door after opening it. Rewriting routines when they stop working because of new challenges or different work or other people in the home. Working around limitations instead of constantly smacking into them. If no one picks up their stuff, having a box outside everyone’s door and putting anything left in common areas into the boxes every night. There’s so many different ways of setting things up.

I’ve been trialling having ‘admin days’, ‘writing days’ and ‘house and garden days’ and I’m startled by how much more I get done when I give over a day to it instead of the multi-tasking, anxiety, and constant switching I’m more used to. Isn’t that half the battle? Figuring out how you work and what works for you? (figuring out how to be an adult when half the time you’re under 18 years old?) I think I understand why our post-industrialist society is so in love with routines and systems. They can work brilliantly. They can of course, also fail spectacularly, especially when they’re applied too broadly, or in the wrong areas entirely. Routines can be very destructive to creativity and relationships. But in some areas, they can be incredibly useful and give you back a lot of time and energy to pour into much more exciting things.

Soaring with Sophie

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Visited my gorgeous goddaughter today. It was beautiful. We played chasie, airplane, tickle monster, and hide the corn chip up your nose.

It’s been a bit rough here lately. We’re about to have another heatwave. My health hasn’t been great. Rose and I have been stressed and struggling to find plans for our future that work around our limitations and fears. Anxiety about housing continues to be incredibly difficult to work around. There’s been a lot of earnest long talks through the small hours of the morning. Sometimes it seems that we have to unpick and rearrange our relationship every few months. We somehow seem to talk ourselves to the edge of an abyss, and then talk ourselves back again. It’s hard sometimes. But it is very real, and very precious.

I’ve had a good day. I went to see my gp about my lousy health lately and to get a stack of forms done. I had to tell her that I’m going to be losing the psychologist I’ve been seeing to retirement in a few months. I could have cried with relief that she endorsed the way we’ve been managing my experiences of psychosis, and asked for the psychologist to write it up as a plan so that we can take it to anyone new I have to work with. I’m lucky. It’s so important to have this kind of support. To have a doctor who agrees that doping me with heavy tranquillisers and watching my liver and weight suffer to avoid the occasional psychotic episode in which I retain full insight and am able to manage at home is an extremely poor trade off. The relief is huge.

So, today was better. Sophie is a delight. My home is beautiful. I’ve bought another wall fan for my bedroom in time for this heatwave. Rose and I are going well again. Tonks, Sarsaparilla, and Zoe are all good. Just got to keep my head down through the next few hot days.

Punch drunk

Ever have those mornings where you wake and feel dazed, shuffle back into a life that seems to be a bad joke, a series of punchlines at your expense. There’s this sick feeling in your gut and an emptiness in your chest but in your head is a moving headache like a dog that can’t lie still, and an anxiety that’s kind of a high pitched whine in your ears. Everything that seemed easy a week ago is hard, your hands hurt, your eyes are not your eyes but some old gritty hand me downs from before colour was invented. Your knees ache.

The song in your heart is gone, there’s just a bucket of something unidentifiable that smells of dead herrings and an IOU from a nightingale that’s flown south. The world is empty and pointless for you, amazing things are happening out there, brilliant conversations and intelligent people making art and changing the world. It’s all beyond you. You wake into the backwaters of cultural development, the Siberia of party invitations. The world expects you to attend anyway, and sends you final demands and tweets. I’m not at home, you say, I can’t come out to play. I’m a facsimile of me, you’ll be terribly disappointed. When you open your mouth, toads and tax forms fall out. Your hands are sticks with no poetry left in them. You must have left the plug out in the bed again and it all drained away while you were sleeping.

The world takes too much out of you, needs to much courage. All these things you’re supposed to be doing weigh in on you like snowfalls on the roof, like being asked to come outdoors into the blizzard and make the world warmer. You’ve two pieces of coal left in the burner, half a packet of porridge and a soggy onion. You’re wearing socks on your hands and trying to listen to a radio that’s held together with duct tape. Keeping your world running is taking everything you have, you can’t shovel through 10 feet of snow in front of your door and do anything about the blizzard.

There’s a desert in your brain where no rain falls, no plant grows. You would hate yourself if you could find the energy. Under your arm there’s this missing rib and the gap still aches. Your eyes have seen the dust beneath the couch. Ever have those mornings?

… No, me neither.

Considering publishing a book

I’ve just calculated that in the past three months, I’ve written, edited, and published 40,000 words on this blog.

I’m finding that rather mind boggling! Wow. It’s been very good for my writing, in learning to write more frequently, clearly, to edit quickly and make it all happen. Last year I was writing the talk on Supporting someone in a dissociative crisis and I found that it was quickly turning into a synthesis of a lot of my thinking and reading over the past 8 years. I put up a page on the DI website with links to articles I’d written so that people could further explore topics I could only touch on briefly in the talk itself. I wondered if this was the bones of the structure of a book.

If I can write a first draft of 80,000 words in under a year, that seems surprisingly within reach, and I’m excited by that. I’m mulling over different ideas – how broad the topic to work with, how to structure it, how on earth to get it to people who actually might find it useful, or get paid for any of my time on it, if it can be worked on alongside a blog, or if I need to pause the blog for awhile, if self publishing is still the best format, who I could recruit as support people – encouragement, editing, marketing, if it would be best to start with a small project where all the learning and mistakes will be cheaper and easier to manage…

40,000 words. Blimey. It makes me feel like a real writer, helps me to really grasp just how important this craft is to me. That’s a lot of hours. And at the moment, since the Hearing Voices Congress, my brain is alight with ideas. I’m drafting blog posts in my head while driving to the shops, while lying in bed trying to sleep, while watching movies. I’m writing them on my phone while waiting for appointments. There’s a lot of inspiration and drive. It may collapse at some point, or some other project may demand more time, but things written once, remain written. I’m giving serious thought to this.

I took a while day off this week to write on this blog, preparing a series of posts ahead of time. It was thrilling! I headed off to friends for dinner and card games, then cane home brimming with inspiration and wrote into the small hours as well. I was in that place where I’m so happy my heart is thrumming, where I feel like I’m going to burst with joy.

I’ve been debating setting my time up differently this year, and trialling a system where each day of the week is overtly given over to something specific, such as art, college work, writing, admin, the face painting business, and time off. Yesterday was an admin day, and my house proud part came out and cleaned and bought things and organised to her hearts content. The problem was trying to make her stop! At 3.30 am we finally managed to switch her out while she was cleaning and rearranging the pantry. She was the happiest critter in the world. The best part was that Rose did an admin day too, so there was no sense of being rushed or taking away from our time together. It was great! I may be onto something with this system!

In high school my English teacher had set aside Fridays to work on his novel. I always envied him this idea. Now I think I might embrace it.

My day in photos :)

I got very little sleep between my fan shorting the safety switch, and my dog going mad about the thunderstorm. In a fragile state in the morning I wound up sharing my shower with a large huntsman spider who would not be shoed out. Half way though it got too wet to remain clinging to the wall, slid to the floor, and picked its way over to the door stop, which it climbed up upon like a bouy at sea, and clung to in a damp, huddled kind of way.

Then I went to work. It was a very quiet day. I watched the birds eating nachos.

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I painted some people.

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I opened the house up to start it cooling off. Tonks sat on the kitchen window sill and claimed the cat mug as hers.

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I wrote my very first policy/procedure checklist for the DI Open Group on fb (about how to handle spam). It’s short and easy to follow and makes sense. I also updated the info page on the website to answer questions I find myself having to address a lot in the group. I was so excited at making sense of this, and having two new admins on board for the group, that I spent the evening bouncing with excitement despite all the sleep deprivation!

Friends came round for pizza and cards night. Due to slight heavy handedness with the cheese, the pizza’s were drowned. And delicious. I managed to stop myself making them all read my new policy and procedure and information page. Just.

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In celebration of surviving the heatwave, and recognition of a week of being very sensible, responsible, having good fluid intake, and so on, Rose and I stayed up late playing Donkey Kong Country on the Wii. Yay! 🙂

Surviving a heatwave

Rose and I are hanging in there through this heatwave. At night we head to the beach to cool off. Around midnight there’s only a few souls around so Zoe can have a good run and splash, and we can lie about in the shallows and feel our brains cool.
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During the day I’m shut in at home, curtains drawn against the heat, feeling ill. We’ve worked out a system. Cold shower, then lie under a fan for a bit. Cold foot baths, sit in front of the air conditioner. Lots of bottles of water in the fridge. Sleep if you can, read books or watch movies to pass the time. The pets have ice cubes in their water and get rub downs with wet towels when they look stressed. I’m sleeping on the couch at night and waking for cold showers when it gets too hot.

Cool baths are the last line of defence against heat stress and nausea, they gently leach heat from the body without dropping your temperature so fast that you feel sick. Be really careful of sudden temperature drops with small children especially. Gently cooling them down with wet towels and a fan is better than a sudden change in body temperature for a baby or anyone ill or vulnerable. When I worked as a child care worker I once witnessed a very distressing incident where a mother took her overheated, sick baby into a cold shower and accidentally triggered febrile convulsions. It was very distressing for everyone involved and resulted in a trip to hospital.

Snacks are fruit, or Anzac biscuits. Food is cereal, toast with tomatoes, salads, or if I can’t eat, banana milkshakes and ice blocks.

The news is covered with terrible updates about fires and blackouts and people in trouble. I feel terribly cut off and helpless. Hiding here in the dark while the world burns. Remembering summers before, spent in a shivering, dehydrated mess, vomiting even water and desperately unhappy. I keep telling myself that looking after myself well enough to stay out of hospital is worthwhile and frees up those resources for other people. I wish there was more I could do.
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Down at the beach at night is like walking into another world. We walk fully clothed into the water and float in the shallows, watching the moon rise. It’s utterly beautiful, a world of ultramarine and silver light spangling on the black water. Zoe kicks up her heels and chases wavelets along the shore.

We stay a long time, the cool salt water eases stressed skin, we’re itchy with hives and heat rash. A good soak cold is enough that we can sleep when we get home. We set up the animals, run a sprinkler on the garden, have a cold shower, and sleep through the morning.

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This is the very first heatwave I’ve been in where so far I haven’t lost any of my plants. Between the sprinkler and my last minute dripper system, everything is still alive! My hollyhock is even blooming at least, huge single white flowers. I’m really lucky. It’s such a relief at the end of the day to stumble outdoors and see this glorious greenery instead of the usual crispy brown sticks that usually greet me at the end of a super hot day.

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I hope that those of you who are in this heatwave have a good way of managing it and were able to do enough preparation that you’re stocked with supplies. Take care of yourselves and your pets. If you have decent air conditioning at home and you can, invite friends around who don’t and help out. Especially if you can accommodate and extra pet or two for a couple of days, this can make the difference in the world to someone else. If you only have one room or space that’s chilled, kids can sleep on a sheet on the floor. A wet sheet on top of them and fan can help tremendously, and keeping a bucket of water in the room to soak the top sheet in periodically can help make it easy to keep them cool enough to sleep.

If you are out and about and pass anyone sleeping rough, please spare some change or buy them a bottle of cold water of you can. One of the best ways to cool down when you’re sleeping rough in the city is if some kind person gives you a metro ticket so you can ride the air conditioned buses. Most public buildings will ease up in their usual policies of moving obviously homeless people on, so if people can get to a shopping centre or library they may not be shooed off the seats. But public transport is always a good bet for some peace and air conditioning. The downside to all these options is that they’re often crowded with very stressed, tired, short tempered people.

With regards to pets, smaller creatures especially like rabbits, guinea pigs, and rats will die easily in this hot weather so use fans, chilled water, ice cubes, wet towels, and keep them inside where you are. Ice bricks (for those that don’t chew) can be wrapped in a towel and stuck in the bedding. For those that do chew, use frozen bottles of water instead. For some little creatures you can buy a small metal plate for chilling in your freezer then putting in their cage. I lost a sweet little guinea pig called Henry a few years back in a heatwave. They can go from being okay to heat stroke and death very quickly!

Be really aware of how hot the pavement is and don’t walk dogs if it’s hot to your hand. You can severely burn a dog’s feet otherwise! Never use dog boots in hot weather, it doesn’t protect their feet from hot surfaces, it just prevents them being able to sweat and cool off through their feet, which can be very dangerous! Most cats hate baths but you can chill their drinking water, supply wet food instead of dry, and give them a rub with wet hand towels if they’re looking stressed. Dogs love a cool tiled surface to sleep on if possible, and you can easily spray them down outdoors (make sure all the hot water from the hose is emptied first!) or give them a quick bath or shower when they’re struggling. Ice cubes and frozen dog treats are great, and Zoe loves a fan by her bed.

Be really careful about transporting your animals (and kids!). Most nights we’re taking Zoe with us to visit someone with better air conditioning and staying there for a few hours. We never leave her alone in the car and we run the air conditioner for the trip. As it was, last night she got really stressed so we went through a fast food drive through and ordered slushies for us and a big cup of ice water for her. Most places will give out tap water and ice so even if you’re broke, if you, a child, or animal is stressed, get to the nearest place and ask for help.

Be mindful of other outdoor animals, not all of them will handle this weather well. Chickens and other poultry can also seem okay and then suddenly die from heat stress. One technique we used to use when I looked after a big flock of chickens as a young person was to put a sprinkler on the roof of their roosting shed and keep it cooler that way. If you have only a couple, it may be better to crate them and bring then indoors if you can. If your laundry or bathroom aren’t hot they can emergency places for outdoor pets during the day. Bathtubs (empty of course, lined with newspaper or straw) are great for little animals like guinea pigs if you don’t have an indoor cage.

Native animals can get very heat stressed too, at this time of year many dehydrate as water supplies dry out, and there’s also issues with desperate animals drowning in swimming pools when they can’t get out again. If you can leave out a proper water supply that is not allowed to run dry that will help. If you have a pool that lacks a ramp out, you can improvise one or cover it and put out a pot of water or a half clam shell pool instead. If you find a bird or animal that is injured or stressed, please contact Fauna Rescue or your local native animal support group for help and instructions.

The government has been publishing health warning and instructions which are great. The heat bothers some people very little, but for babies and kids, pregnant women, the frail aged, those of us with illnesses, disabilities, mental health problems, or who have been going through surgery or exhausting treatments such as chemotherapy, it can be devastating.

Disorientation is a common sign of heat stress and dehydration, as is irritability. People can be quite unwell without realising it, so be careful, be extra considerate, and try to avoid arguments, triggers, and needless stress. Vomiting and diarrhoea can mess up medication absorption which can make people ill very quickly in some cases. Those of us who have issues that affect our ability to care for our bodies, such as eating disorders, or self harm will often be more vulnerable and struggle to provide appropriate care for ourselves. Those of us with vulnerabilities to issues like dissociation and psychosis can find that heat stress and dehydration present as an episode. It’s important to track physical health and care, to make sure enough food and water are being taken on board to keep the body and brain functioning. Lack of food, water, or sleep will all cause problems for anyone, for some of us we are extra vulnerable to these issues.

Take care everyone, my thoughts are with you.

Rainbow Salad

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I crave salads in hot weather. I love them anyway, but a cold, crispy, crunchy, tasty plate of veg is particularly delightful when it’s so hot you can feel your eyeballs boiling in your skull.

Rose has a friend who brings the most amazing Rainbow Salad to gatherings. She was kind enough to share her recipe, which is more of a loose guide, and we’ve been creating our own. They are delicious! Here’s how to do it:

Grate some colourful hard vegetables, such as carrots and beetroot.

Finely chop some greens. Lettuce, spinach, kale, cress, rocket, or any combination.

Finely chop any other vegetables you want to add such as cucumber, capsicum or tomato. Remove the seeds from anything that will make the salad soggy. Add in any small items such as herbs or sprouts.

The idea is to go for a great mix of colours. 🙂

Next, lightly pan fry whatever handful of seeds or nuts you fancy. Hazelnuts, pepitas, pine nuts, sesame seeds… Add them to the salad.

If you’re feeling fancy you can add extra protein such as egg, chicken, sliced beef, or fried haloumi.

Dress with any mix of oils and acids such as olive oil, grapeseed oil, lemon juice, vinegar, verjuice… Don’t dress it until you’re about to eat. It will keep in the fridge if sealed, before you dress it.

It tastes amazing, and different every time. It’s my new favourite salad.

I’m horribly low in iron at the moment and apart from supplements my doc has recommended I eat a lot more red meat, in small portions. Apparently even a little serve of red meat with a leafy green salad like this one boosts your ability to absorb the iron from the salad.

Heatwave

We’re in a heatwave here, 5 days in a row at or over 40C. My place isn’t ideal for this, although I’m a lot luckier than some people. Spare a thought (and some change, or a cold drink) for all the people on the streets at the moment.

Fibromyalgia stuffs up my ability to regulate my body temperature and makes me vulnerable to hot and cold weather I used to simply enjoy or ignore. I get heat stroke very easily now. It makes weeks like this extra tough, I want to be able to keep working and functioning and really my top priority is staying well enough that I don’t need to go to hospital for hydration. I’ve had some very bad summers where heat stress stops me sleeping and brings on shakes, vomiting, and migraines.

So we’ve adapted the unit as much as possible before this hit. Zoe has her crate in the lounge with her own little fan. I’ve put up an extendable towel rail and pinned a curtain to it to keep cool air in the lounge room and stop it all dissapaiting into the dining room and kitchen. The west facing kitchen window is blocked with a silver foil car window shade. I’ve bought and badly installed a basic dripper system for my potted roses. It’s not pretty as it’s coiled around the pots and stuck down with silver gaffa tape, but it seems to be working. I have a fridge full of cold bottled water and salad ingredients. I keep the bath half full of cold water and get in it frequently. The massive fan on my bedroom wall helps a lot once you’ve got water on your body.

Zoe and Tonks are doing ok. Rose’s place doesn’t have good air con and her cat Baby has been losing condition lately, so we’ve relocated her to my sister’s place where she’s in the cool, hiding behind the couch, and hissing at Kiki. Rose is doing ok now that her cat is in a better place and eating and drinking again. So everyone’s okay.

I’m so depressed I can hardly function. I am supposed to finishing this backlog of admin and filing it with all the appropriate, terrifying organisations. I’m running out of time and it’s so overwhelming. I’ve spent the past couple of days in a teary misery of self loathing and nausea. I’m certain that once I’ve sorted all the figures out that I’ll owe money somewhere, partly because I’ve forgotten or misplaced paperwork showing where I’ve spent it, and partly because I was supposed to have organised all this paperwork before I started trading so I’d know how much to put aside each week, or at least been self disciplined enough to put some aside anyway to manage it. Having said that it’s not that I’ve been very frivolous, it’s hard to second guess any of my decisions or purchases and see what I shouldn’t have done (or not done yet, maybe that’s more the case? Timing rather than choices?) So my business working and being successful is actually just making me feel more scared and overwhelmed and like a failure for doing such a poor job of managing it. I hate being self employed sometimes. 😥 Today I want to go back to every bright and cheerful person who ran the cert in home business I did last year and break one of their fingers for every time they said ‘It’s easy!’

It’s been a big week. I had a (great) final appointment with a counsellor, who I didn’t see very often but has been really helpful. I want to write a post about it when I can think straight again. I just found out a psychologist I started seeing so that I would have someone to talk to when the counselling finished up is retiring this year anyway. I’m so sad. There’s so much knowledge that I won’t be able to access when I get stuck and run out of resources. I was coping okay with the loss of the first one, but losing the second feels like more than I can handle dealing with at the moment. I read some really distressing things in a parenting forum I was part of, where people with great intentions are encouraging practices for each other with their kids that are highly destructive. I left a warm but concerned reply, but those in an ‘expert’ role in the group encouraged parents with hysterically distraught children to keep doing what they’re doing. I had a pretty strong body reaction when I read it. I don’t have enough head space to think any more about it or respond again but’s stayed in my mind and is very distressing.

I’ve navigated another psychotic episode and done really well but it’s still left me rattled and trying to figure out how to get ahead of them and stop them happening in the first place (if I can). I’m finding the pull to make the kind of art where I don’t need to consider what anyone else wants or feels (face/body painting is all commissioned work, a series of small commissions where you try to gather what they want or like and make it for them, and give them a good, fun, and respectful experience) is strong at the moment, it’s hard to focus on anything else. It’s hard to focus at all. Until I have cleared this backlog of admin it’s frightening to be doing more work and adding to the weight of the problem. It’s hard to stay professional and engaged.

One of my bright ‘preparing for the heatwave’ ideas was to buy a bracket to wall mount my exciting new (well second hand, but a Christmas gift, so new to me) flatscreen TV. This turned out to take half of the day yesterday. It’s larger than my old one (well, longer, it’s much smaller in depth) and didn’t fit in the spot on the wall where the studs are to screw it into, without moving a dresser. Which meant moving a bookcase. Which meant a whole stack of stuff is now piled into my dining room, studio, and all over the lounge. My house went from being pretty organised and comfortable to half trashed, and I’m too wrecked to do anything about it. It took ages longer than I thought it would, and while it’s kind of been successful, the TV sinks to the left by about 15 degrees and we couldn’t figure out how to fix it. On the upside, the old TV took up about 1/4 of my lounge room so there’s so much more space in here now. The screen is big and pretty and I can’t wait to re watch all my old favourites on it again – Bladerunner night is definitely on the cards. On the downside my unit is a mess and you have to tilt your head to the left to watch TV.

Lots of my lovely friends know that I don’t handle the heat well and keep offering to be helpful but I am so stressed and confused and switch-y that co-ordinating anything, especially as it has to include Zoe (can’t leave her in the back yard in this weather) and preferably not involve me turning up to their place as an overwhelmed ten year old who sobs hysterically on their couch all day, is just beyond me.

I don’t have much in the way of perspective when the weather is like this, as you can see. The only thing I feel I’m doing well on any level at the moment is this blog. I don’t know why but for some reason I’ve been very inspired about writing it lately. I’ve also been getting some really wonderful feedback (most of which I am too overwhelmed to reply to) but it helps me feel that I’m doing something good in the world, getting something right. The blog is possibly going to be the first draft of a book, which is a very inspiring thought.

I’m going to pay my phone bill. And reply to a couple of urgent emails, even if just to say ‘I’m sick, sorry, I’ll get back to you”. And have another cold bath. And probably cry again. But there will be passionfruit and cold water. Hanging in there.

Nurturing

My garden is blooming and beautiful. I love it so much. A number of years ago, when I was extremely unwell with severe dissociation, I read the book Women Who Run With The Wolves, which I loved. One of the suggestions was to grow things, to touch earth and become accustomed to the cycles of nature, of seasons, of life and death, of the needs of things that grow. Since that time, I’ve always had a garden, even if it was only some jonquils in a pot. Many plants have a special link for me, remind me of someone I have loved, or a time in my life, or a dream I’ve had. I bought some of these plants last year to celebrate the news that it seems I have intact fertility and will hopefully be able to have a child.
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When I started growing things, I found myself slowly learning things I had forgotten in awful circumstances. In the grips of profound self hate, nurturing my plants was a small but powerful reminder that things grow best when they are loved rather than starved.

There’s a certain stereotype of the young person who has escaped from an abusive background, who find themselves something to nurture – a house full of cats, a volunteer role at the local nursing home, or a garden full of plants to tend. Somewhere in that act, I gradually began to learn how to tend for myself. It’s a process I’ve seen many people go through, people with such amazing qualities of generosity, compassion, tenderness, or wisdom, who have not yet learned how to treat themselves with this kindness, but who pour them out on others in a tangle of love and need and hope. For others they’ve yet to learn how to nurture, how to help something to live, to watch for signs of stress, to learn the language of need for another. They have yet to learn how to be still and listen, the attentiveness of love.

I remember the very first time I grew plants from seed, what a miracle it seemed to me. How magic that from these small inert bits of brown matter, green life springs. The incredible fertility of life, that from one seed, comes a plant that creates many many seeds. That all things die. That some things that I thought would grow, under my care, will not, and others that are thought to be difficult grow readily. Despite all knowledge there is mystery, even in this. Gardens reward attention, knowledge, and skill; with beauty and abundance. These observations are so simple and yet I find them deeply moving. Standing with bare feet on earth, in rain, wind on my skin, hands in soil, I find metaphors for the tending of my soul, of my family and friends, my world.
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I find a sense of peace and connection in my garden. I hope you have or find places in your life that speak to you also.

Tonks the cat

I am exhausted. Today was 6 hours of face painting at the Adelaide Zoo, Thursday was 5 hours, I’m working again tomorrow. It’s been great to have it busy, but I’m also ready to pass out. And I’m out of orange paint.

Tonks reckons she’s had a tiring day too:
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Friends are over for hibernate pizza and a cards night. I’m either going to switch to someone less trashed, or sleep under the table while they play. 😉

Renovating the house (and bits of my life)

I am darn excited! As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I’m a ‘change the furniture around’ kind of person. Part of my dissociation is that I find I numb and disconnect to a home that never changes (see Dissociation and tricks of the brain). It doesn’t have to be massive change – a new bunch of flowers or moving a lamp will do. I’m in the middle of a big shift and repair job inside and out that is making me very, very happy.

First off, a new fan! I was given a Bunnings voucher from a friend and went and bought this huge, almost industrial wall fan to hang over my bed. It’s amazing!! Far more powerful than a ceiling fan. When I get one of the other projects done – fencing off the window from outside so I can replace the screen without Zoe destroying it, it will be like a completely different room to sleep in. Happy happy.

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Another project is improving the airflow through the house. Two screens need replacing and the Zoe fence needs building for that.

Zoe free areas in the house – planning to buy child gates second hand online to keep her out of the kitchen and studio. This will also limit the dog hair to certain areas of the house! Well, ~ish.

Renovate my studio. Again. Hurrah! My whole studio has been clogged up by the dog crate, completely inaccessible and filling up with clothes I can’t reach the wardrobe to hang back up. Tonks knocked a set of hollowed egg shells from an old art project called Taboo over and Zoe kindly chewed them into very small bits and scattered them through everything on the floor ie most of my clothes and hats and scarves and shoes and many art projects. So! The new plan is – no pets in the studio, and no table making it hard to access the wardrobe. The table is now gone, as is the dog crate.

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Zoe’s dog crate now lives in the loungeroom where the people are and away from the art supplies. Hurrah! The dining table now lives in the studio where the pets and pet hair is not. This is also a good thing.

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This means Zoe inherits the little fan I was using in my bedroom. 🙂

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A new mattress! Part of a Christmas gift for Rose, I’ve upgraded my rather awful matress for a really nice pillowtop I found at a salvos store that begged me to bring it home and see what it would do for sore backs. So far, it’s been a huge success. 🙂 Upgrading old furniture is an important and fun part of the housekeeping process, especially when you shop in the hard rubbish collections.

The last of the lawn is going! I’ve been in the process of replacing all the lawn in my front yard with a mulched garden bed full of herbs and flowers. My Mum has kindly done most of the work on this as I’ve been crook or flat out busy with work. We’ve brought some more mulch down and the last of the grass is being smothered under cardboard. My first seedlings are planted in a mini greenhouse for sprouting, hopefully I will soon be adding chives, thyme, and other seedlings to the garden.

All the curtain rod hangers in the house need replacing to double hangers suitable for an extra rod for netting. This will stop my curtains falling down every other time they’re opened or closed, and keep the neighbours from watching me cook in the kitchen and so on. A small but important detail that I’m really looking forward to!

My new art studio at Rockabilly BODY is still under construction and coming along really well. Once the walls are up and ready I’ll be off there to paint them and start furnishing it.

So there you have it. A catalogue of renovations and exciting changes. My roses are in full bloom, my figs are fruiting, my home is a bit of a mess but will be good before my rent inspection, all going to plan, and my heart is happy. 🙂 I know it seems crazy that it’s so crowded when I live alone in a 2 bedroom unit but between the 2 cats, the dog, Rose being around a lot, entertaining friends and family, and that I’m living here, using a room as a professional arts studio, using another room for my Temporary Body Art business stock/kit/paperwork, storing my library, and running the DI out of the place, my challenges to fit it all in using cheap or free furniture and limited energy are more understandable. Hopefully the new arrangements and also the new studio might improve things a bit, not to mention Rose and my sister moving in nearby when they find a place! 🙂

Graduated, and won an award!

A couple of bits of really good news have come in over the Christmas season and I have finally got a moment to share them. Firstly, I have finally graduated from the Cert 4 in Mental Health Peer Work! I have a certificate and everything. That was a very long 6 months, and an even longer wait to be able to graduate due to gastro making me miss out on three classes – which I had to wait until the course was offered again to be able to make up. So that’s that. It’s a bit appalling sad on the one hand that my highest qualification to date is a damn cert when various of my friends and colleagues have degrees or much higher, but I earned it, it’s mine, and it can’t be taken away from me. So there.

In other news, I found out that a short film I helped to write, film, and edit, called Regeneration was entered into the Picture This Film Festival in Canada. I loved making this film, it was my first time in a great little bootcamp and I learned a lot! I blogged about the process here. To my surprise, our film won an award! Regeneration was chosen as the winning film for a drama under 10 minutes, and will toured around Canada! I am thrilled! You can read more about the award and how that all works here on Mindshare.

Our 4 minute film is below, or if the link isn’t working for you, you can watch it over on vimeo here.

I would love to make more films like this. So many projects and passions, so little time!

Rockabilly BODY and a new Art Studio

A friend of mine, Mel, has been setting up her own business called Rockabilly BODY around the same time that I’ve been working on my Temporary Body Art business. Where my business is mobile, hers is bricks and mortar. A team of people have been working incredibly hard to get her beautiful studio open this year. It’s been great to have someone else who is wrestling with the same things, working insane hours, experimenting with different forms of advertising, being surprised by the unpredictability of what service takes off and what doesn’t generate much interest. I admire her passion and dedication and hope like hell it all pays off for her. One of the down sides of a physical premises is the much larger risk factor. I’ve invested in my business minimally – a few thousand I’ve paid upfront instead of big investments with loans and leases and a hell of a lot more stress. On the upside however, her studio is simply gorgeous and I love being there! Checkout a couple of photos:
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That slogan on the wall behind the manicure station reads

You can’t buy happiness, but you can buy nail polish, and that’s kind of the same thing.

Her whole studio is scattered with beautiful or funny quotes, she’s worked hard to make her studio alternative to the usual crappy nasty hype so common in the beauty industry. The place is designed to be friendly to guys, girls, trans, and queer, a safe place to pamper yourself with whatever beauty stuff floats your boat without being pushed into some standard of beauty you don’t like. Mel does a lot of work researching all her products and making sure everything is of a very high standard, which I like.

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I’m kinda taken with it, as you can tell. 🙂 Plus, I won a gift voucher from an SAFM contest! Whoot! But yeah, I love getting my nails painted with that long lasting stuff in cool colours like BLACK. Rare to find that! If you’re around Royal Park area, I’d suggest dropping in. I particularly recommend the waxing for wildly sensitive skin, and the pedicures. But that could just be me. 🙂

The really awesome news from my own purely self involved perspective, is that I’m in the process of having a small studio of my own built in the premises! I’m SO excited about this! The plan is to set myself up there on a weekly basis to be able to offer exciting body art such as henna, temporary hand painted tattoos, and body painting for photo shoots! Finally people will be able to book me in directly for their own art instead of having to book a whole party with friends and get me out to their place! We’re also planning some exciting collaborations around parties and events as there’s a beautiful big space in Mel’s studio that’s perfect to host indoor parties, particularly if you like someone else cleaning up after you.

It’s a bit of a risk, I’ve not heard of any other body artists trying to set up a physical premises like this, but the crossover between Mel’s clients and my own is quite significant, our work is very complimentary, and it sounds like far too interesting an idea to turn down. There are further plans in the works around hair, painted shoes, jewellery, art prints, and exhibition projects but I don’t feel like letting all the cats out of the bag just yet. Right now, a small room the size of my master bedroom at home is being constructed. I’ve paid and delivered gyprock sheets and other necessities and I’m working on furniture, colour schemes, paint, and fabrics. Of all my many exciting plans for 2014, this is one that just makes me squee with excitement! I will have a physical location and mailing address for my work! I will have a public studio to display art! I will be able to set aside time each week to create art (yay!), and do admin (ugh), and try different ideas out on the public to see what people like. It may be brilliant, it may completely flop. I’ve no idea, and there’s only one way to find out.

Life is either a daring adventure or nothing”

“One can never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar

Quotes by Helen Keller

Adventures on camp

I’m home again! It was wonderful! And I’ve been swept straight off my feet and back into the rollercoaster of my complicated life. It’s hard to find a moment to think, much less blog. But I’m determined to nail down some passing memories and thoughts and send them off to the vastly deeps of the interwebs before they are lost. Mostly because I’m dissociative and it’s always fun to read later on and see what I’ve been up to. Plus, photos!

It was a short one, three nights, two days. Just a quick run up to my favourite local conservation park in the van. We’re working on getting the van properly and permanently set up so that camping can be an easy last minute – quick I have two days off let’s go kind of thing. It’s an ongoing project. My sister and I went together. Rose stayed home as her ankle is still healing.

I left behind all devices, and turned off my phone for the duration. It was blissful to be disconnected. I love the net, I love being in touch with my friends and online communities. I am even enjoying twitter these days. But I also love that sense of radio silence where I instead start to hear and connect with other aspects of my world.

I took a book on shamanism I’ve borrowed from a friend and did a lot of reading, writing, thinking, poetry, art, cooking, and breathing in the world. I was curious to read about how many cultures have the idea that something connects everything, some kind of force or energy or web. I thought of my own online world and how desperately important it is to me, how irritated I get with the mindless technology bashing that goes on. We have a fractured culture and we use our tech to connect ourselves to people we otherwise would lose, would not be part of our lives so regularly. We are shamans, linking in to our own webs. Of course there are risks. Of course there are problems. But this desire to be connected, that is universal.

I turned off my phone and listened to the wind.

I found a lizard sunning him/herself on the road. I like lizards. I said hello and then found him a nice spot in a paddock to sun instead.

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How to tell you’re in the Australian countryside in one easy step:

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My camera is still damaged from taking a nose dive to the floor while I was away in Singapore a few years ago. I’d almost forgotten what a macro mode was like! I borrowed my sister’s camera and stalked the wildlife.

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It was beautiful.

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The world was full of butterflies and tiny flowers.

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These gorgeous wrens frequent one of my favourite camping grounds.

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I also took paints and shoes.

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When I ran out of light, I painted in the dark with a head light.

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I’m really happy with my work.

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I was in charge of the food. This resulted in some unfortunate oversights. Such as the sushi, where I forgot to bring the seaweed for wrapping it, and the soy sauce for dipping. Hence, modern deconstructed sushi: I also didn’t bring enough food for three breakfasts.

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The salad sandwiches went down well.

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I redeemed myself with pancakes, served with tinned peaches and custard.

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The sky was beautiful. One night we had a clear sky with no moon and a million zillion stars. There were also beautiful sunsets and (I’m told) dawns.

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We also did a hike. It was challenging. I am still very sore and limping a bit from unhappy calf muscles. It was worth it. 🙂 We trekked and climbed down to a cove.

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At the bottom, we climbed into the water and got smashed around a bit by the incoming waves. It was awesome! It also does mad things to your hair. 😉 Camping with dreadlocks is the easiest thing in the world.

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This last photo took some getting, but was utterly worth it. 🙂

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And then, we came home. I only cried a little.

Sometimes I think I shouldn’t put up posts like this, that this blog is only useful when I’m writing articles about DID and such. Then I remember that reducing stigma is about humanising, and that it’s valuable to see that someone like me, someone with ‘a severe mental disorder’ can have a life. Can chase butterflies and paint shoes and fry pancakes and play cards.

I was struck also by people’s good wishes before I left, how many people told me they hoped it went well as if something going wrong would ruin the trip. I see camps as an adventure. Things often go wrong, not because I’m inexperienced or unprepared (well, okay, occasionally), being too broke for great supplies and a top notch well maintained vehicle doesn’t help. But also because life is not perfect and doesn’t follow a script. Taking risks, seeing new things, trying new things risks disappointment and things not going well. Treating this all as an adventure means that short of real crises (severe injury and the like), no matter what happens I have a good time. A lot of this is the company I keep. I’ve been on camps where my fellow travellers were inexperienced, easily bored, prone to destructiveness, and difficult to work with. Every little task was a major undertaking, from erecting a tent to cooking breakfast. Everything was frustrating and miserably difficult and many of the outcomes were painfully poor, such as a tent put too close to a large camp fire, resulting in small burns through all the fabric.

Whereas I’ve been on other camps were so many things went wrong – cars bogged, pouring rain and a leaky tent, or other times such as surprise windstorms, or roads flooded, that despite all the calamity were truly wonderful times. There was no fighting or angst, an acceptance that things go wrong and they make good stories, and a good team that pulls together evenly to manage the situations.

How often this is true of life, I think as 2013 draws to a close.

I don’t wish you a life where nothing goes wrong. I wish you a grand adventure! And really good company.

Christmas Camping

I’ve had a fantastic couple of days. A lot of work over the past 10 years figuring out how to do things like give myself permission not to spend time at Christmas with people who really stress me out, even if that’s expected, and how to extend the same freedom even to people I’m really hoping to see, has really paid off for me. I had one of the most memorable Christmases since I was a kid. 🙂 Friends, family, games, good food, cuddles, surprises, and very little stress.

Today I’ve had heart to heart talks and icecream and watched The Hobbit in 3D and now I’m about to head off for a couple of days camping with my sister. Rose has decided the great beyond is not for her with her ankle still bunged up, so she’s going to spend a couple of days visiting her mates instead. I’m sad about that, but so excited too! Tonight I’ll be sleeping under the stars in the back of a van, cool wind blowing through my soul. I’m one lucky sod.

Much love to all of you, catch you in a few days. x

Christmas Eve

Today has been great. It started with my mad kitten Tonks tearing over the bed with enthusiasm. Gifts and bed bouncing excitement for young parts followed. Then Rose kindly read two chapters of Harry Potter to us until we went back to sleep for a couple more hours which helped a bit with the exhaustion and pretty awful back pain.

The rest of the day was devoted to Christmastime stuff; gift wrapping, visiting friends and family, cuddles with gorgeous little Sophie, my goddaughter. I’ve been blessed with such generous and kind friends, it’s hard to believe that only a few years ago I spent Christmas at a free Salvos lunch because I was poor and lonely and in need of some care. I never got around to the Christmas tree or various other traditions this year, Rose having a broken ankle changed plans somewhat. But there was baking and mulling and bottling and the smell of cloves and cardamom and the kitten playing with little balls of scrap wrapping paper.

I went to a candlelight church service in the evening which had beautiful prayers for love and hospitality and kindness. It moved me. Afterwards I felt dissociative and sad so I bought ice cream and went to visit my sister to watch The Nightmare Before Xmas, which is another Christmas Eve tradition of ours.

I hope that wherever you are, you’re finding ways to celebrate or ignore Christmas that are meaningful for you. Take care!

Attack of the improbably large, surprise lynx

The talk last night about supporting people in Dissociative Crisis went really, really well. As it was stupidly hot there was just a small group of us so I shifted the format a bit and allowed comments and questions through the talk. There was such interest we wound up running horrendously overtime, by almost 2 hours! I got very positive feedback from everyone which was great. It’s funny the areas people find surprising or difficult to understand, I’m finding I have to keep emphasising the really severe level of stigma that people with DID often face. This morning I’m off to give the same talk again, it’s still pretty darn hot and I haven’t slept very well so hopefully I can pull it out of the bag again. I feel like someone’s tried to stove in the back of my head with a post, actually. I’ve just taken some pain killers and drunk more water and stuffed some books beneath my portable air conditioner to try and force it to actually direct some air onto me instead of over me and now I’m waiting for miraculous improvement.

Last night was very patchy sleep, irritated skin, cold showers, and weird dreams. I’ve just woken up from a weird lucid type dream where everything I was worried about happened. As in, I’m standing in an alley way, thinking to myself, ‘wow it would be scary if a big cat appeared just there, I wouldn’t have a hope of escaping’. At which point a Bengal tiger walks around the corner. Then, uncontrollably, my thoughts turn to ‘you know, a lynx would be even scarier’. The tiger turns into a lynx, but remains tiger sized. This is the largest lynx I’ve ever seen, with an oddly elongated and sinewy neck. It pads over towards me as I freeze and desperately try to remember the rules for not upsetting a lynx. I find myself looking into its eyes while my brain is screaming ‘are you supposed to make eye contact or avoid it? STOP UPSETTING IT!’ The lynx is clearly unhappy, backs off a few feet while watching me intently, drops to its belly and gives that tell tale wiggle while my brain goes into foaming panic, then springs at me.

At which point, I wake up.

So, apparently I’m secretly, deeply concerned that I haven’t brushed up on my Escaping-and-not-enraging-big-cats strategy lately. Anyone care to enlighten me?

Finding life

In the middle of a hot week here. Today reached higher than 40C,  and tomorrow is forecast the same. Rose and I had a weird, fractious day, but ended it down at the beach, swimming in the shallows in the dark and watching the moon rise. They are so precious, times like this.

I had a good appointment with my psychologist earlier this week, and I realised that in caring for Rose I’d dropped and forgotten all the work we’d been doing lately on self care. The sense of being connected to my own inner wisdom was gone, no intuition guiding my choices, no small voices speaking of deep soul needs. I’d become locked into my roles, feeling exhausted and in chronic pain. It was like feeling the walls close in about me, trapped in a box that was shrinking every day. Focusing more and more energy on Rose (not necessarily in a way that she enjoyed) as I became caught in that most common of caring binds: ‘If I can just make her well, then I’ll be able to get some of my needs met.’ I’ve watched family members burn half their lives away trying to do just that.

I came out of the appointment remembering that my journey is just as important, and that Rose neither wants nor needs a frantic carer driving her into directions that may not be right for her. She needs a gentle nurse and friend, who is still invested in their own life and heart so she is free to care for her own also.

Suddenly that tiny airless box blew open in my mind. The railway tracks were gone, the limits were gone. I felt free, free to call Rose and apologise, free to do anything I wished with the afternoon, to engage it in any way I chose. Where there had been stoic endurance of a trap, there was now freedom to explore what might be possible. My intuition was back, and my joy. The small voices were back and the ear to hear them with.

It’s a strange thing, life. We find it and lose it and find it, all over again.

Everybody’s tired, Dave

(Red Dwalf, anyone?) Rose is tired, lugging around a moon boot and crutches, I’m tired working a lot of hours and not getting enough down time, the weather is hot so even the pets and plants seem tired. We trekked off to have Rose’s ankle cat scanned today, a friend kindly came round and did our dishes as my birthday gift (I’ve been saving that coupon for awhile) we’re trying to figure out what we can do about the Christmas gift situation as Rose is broke and won’t be able to earn money until next year sometime when her foot starts cooperating again, and I bought some stone fruit from the local market, which was lunch.

Rose is currently trekking around the kitchen in her keenness to be useful and making dinner for tonight (roast) and soup for the next few days as it’s forecast to reach 40C here this week and during that weather I do not run the oven under any circumstances. I think she’s mad and keep trying to persuade her to put her moonboot back on (too hot and heavy) or use her crutches (hurting her underarms and really inconvenient) or let me help (…) but sometimes one just has to shut up and go blog instead of trying to be sensible.

We had a funny little moment a few days ago when the reality of weeks off work and needing help to do basic things like shower suddenly hit Rose like a bucket of cold water. She said to herself with some shock “Oh gawd, this means I’m going to have to be careful and think about everything I want to do in terms of how much energy it will take and how much pain it will cause!” I was driving at the time and just gripped the steering wheel a little tighter and smiled to myself. The penny dropped and she looked at me, we both laughed. I’ve had fibromyalgia, endometriosis and other chronic pain conditions for more than 10 years now. It’s rare for me to not be in pain already when I wake up in the morning and for pain not be present, significantly, when I go to bed at night. Sickness and exhaustion are common parts of my life.

There’s a cool little explanation going around the net called The Spoon Theory. Trying to explain chronic pain and fatigue to people who have not been sick is always difficult. This approach is great, although to me it has one obvious limitation – that is the assumption that all of life is about giving, or using up, energy. I’ve spent a lot of time around people who think like this and for me, it doesn’t work.

People are not finite supplies of internal resources that recharge overnight only to be spent again every day. We are parts of much greater wholes, members in complex ecosystems where energy flows in and out and between every part. Some things take almost every bit of energy I have available to do, and yet in spending it, I am recharged. Not just resting, but meeting crucial needs for closeness, meaning, belonging, love. My volunteer work costs me much energy and yet gives me so much back. Relationships can be exhausting but are also a source of deep joy. Being involved, living, learning to re-interprete pain and exhaustion not as cruel bad luck, but as the cost of being alive, a price I willingly pay to live a life that is deep, passionate, abundant, and vital. Learning how to go gently and get out of the boom-crash cycle of spending energy into the red and making yourself constantly sick is incredibly valuable. But beyond that, conservation becomes miserly. Pain is part of being alive. Spend your spoons wisely yes, but do spend them! Be part of things that give you spoons back.

Ear Lizard week

It’s been a long week. I took Rose back to the hospital earlier for more xrays, this time they showed a small break and loose bone fragment. It was all pretty rushed and not exactly thorough so we followed up with her gp the next day and got some better pain relief (for her) and a referral for a cat scan next week.

I’m really tired, far more than I expected to be. I suspected a mild kidney infection but tests say no, it’s just fibro putting the boot in. It’s a handful trying to finish Christmas plans, keep work arrangements, and pick up the extra work of household chores and care for Rose. I was hoping to put up my tree and do some Christmas cooking but I’m trying to keep the pets and us fed, get the dishes done and find time when Zoe is indoors to hang a load of washing. A shower would be nice too. I have no idea what is going on with my gift plans, I just keep buying things and shoving them in a box in my wardrobe. I probably have 17 gifts for one person and nothing for anyone else. I certainly don’t have any chocolate. I usually like this time of year. Ah well.

Keep thinking what this will be like to deal with with a baby too, that’s a depressing thought. Can’t find time to blog or journal, snatching minutes to read before bed, pretty chronic pain and sleep deprivation, and carefully balanced plans where things get really difficult if the dishes don’t get done on time because the next 5 days are busy with other important things and now we’re all eating off paper plates and using the camping cutlery.

And just to illustrate the point that is hazily surfacing through this ramble of a post: ‘life is weird’, have a photo of an ‘ear lizard’ I painted on a kid recently. It was the kids request. No, I don’t know what an ear lizard is either.

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Merry Christmas everyone.

Rose recovers

Rose is home now, but rather in the wars. I’ve dressed her injuries, watched an episode of Wire in the Blood to wind down, and now she’s sleeping.
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She has a severely sprained ankle with tendon and ligament damage, there’s possibly some small fractures too but the swelling was making the xrays difficult for the doctors to read. We need to go back to a hospital for more tests. She’s in a lot of pain and getting very broken sleep.

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