Fear - The Anxiety Chronicles (Part II)

Fear has been an integral part of me since I was very young, for years I was convinced when it was dark that there were skeletons hiding behind my parents bedroom door, and would close it as I went past to my room. Fear in more subtle forms was also lurking. I was near petrified of getting shouted at, and often felt that I couldn't do anything right if I got told off for things. It deeply instilled in me the need to avoid conflict. 

This is where it starts, my eldest step-son, I see so much of how I was as a child in him. He does the same kinds of random things and can't explain why. Last year for example, we kept finding the bathroom mirror covered in white smears of toothpaste.  As parents we try to explain why we are annoyed and try not to put him down when he does these kinds of things. It was realising how similar he was to me when I was his age was the catalyst for me.

My problem with avoiding conflict is that anger would regularly seep out as passive aggression. On occasion the pressure built to a level where there would be a sudden outburst. I would be avoided if concerns were raised when various issues would appear.

This way of being, desperately avoiding conflict, not addressing how it makes you feel, not allowing yourself to be angry. express it. The notion that being angry is bad and I must not be like that, and what happens? I ended up being angry in a worse way, I am pissed off moaning to other people about it, not raising it with person or people who matter, which would relieve the situation. Instead it festers and eats away at me. I've been like that for years, all down to fear.

Since my teenage years I was so concerned about someone pointing something out that could be regarded as even 'mildly mocking', I just tried to avoid that. These things ate away at my confidence, it wasn't occasional, it was constant. I felt like I was not someone to take seriously. I worried about looking stupid over the silliest of things. Imagine having to ask someone a question like where something is and not seeing the obvious answer right under my nose, what would they think of me? Irrational and stupid, but that is what anxiety is. I can look back and see where all of this is rooted. I also realise I have a fear of naivety and getting in trouble, and I'm working through both.

Over the years I've loosened up in some respects, grown into myself as it were. I love the feeling of 'normality' that fluoxetine has given me. There are no more days where I want to hide, so it's like me on a good day every day, sticking my head round doors and saying 'Hi!' to colleagues, it is how I should be all the time, it's how I want to be and have done for years.

I've noticed the medication induces far more vivid and interesting dreams. No one likes reading about other people's dreams, they're as dull as dishwater usually, even if mad things happen, or maybe it's just me and my attention span. Never the less what I've found is that, where before there was boring uninteresting things happened, now the dreams are more vibrant and engaging. I had a recent dream where so much happened and I remembered it all in detail, something that never happens. That dream while it put me in a very uncomfortable headspace for 3-4 days, coming out of it I felt more confident, and while it was offset with the dream raising deeply buried issues, that highlighted significant incidents in my past that broke my self confidence. After that dream I started feeling I was becoming free from the remaining shackles of ridiculous self restriction. Putting parts of it to bed. Finally winning some kind of battle. This might not seem much when you read it, but it feels like by subconscious I'm sorting myself out "behind the scenes" and allowing me to address long buried unresolved issues.

The dreams and medication have also give me an insight into myself over the years, I've seen how badly anxiety can affect me, weird quirky behaviour, being unable to let go of issues because I wouldn't face conflict and air grievances, obsession buying things to calm me down. It has taken until now to start accepting myself who I am, despite believing I'd done so in the past, but not noticing the weight attached to my feet. I'm no longer concerned unnecessarily about putting a foot wrong for fear of consequences. 

It might not seem like much, but this is how I had been driven for years, seemingly unable to change. I've noticed when I feel stressed I snack or that I become concerned with finding something to buy. Look at the lovely vinyl I've been buying! Before I was letting it drive me, now I see it and go... no I can wait to buy that. The urgency of "must have now" is gone. I can sit at home at night and I can happily read a book, without feeling I need to check my phone or what's on TV. Now this might sound more like self control but it's not. The anxiety caused weird stress problems where I'd become obsessed or just unable to let a feeling go or the need to buy a particular record, or handy item for around the house that I've thought about buying for month and never bothered, it became a need to get that item.

I've undervalued myself for so long and now I'm in a place where that is turning around, I feel like am actually worth something, worthy of something. It's a rebuilding of my confidence, and it's not a hollow or empty statement I'm making myself believe. I feel it! I feel better within myself, it is a slow path, but it's good as I'm likely to do little seemingly insignificant things, such as comment on Facebook or Twitter and feel I have a valid or funny comment I can make on something, rather than just look at it and let it idly pass by. It's little things like that it allows me to do. Making peace with myself and my past, that feels like the key.

My day to day concerns are that Joy is having good day, that Luna and our new dog Cassie are happy and that the kids are getting along and I'm not thinking 'What's here to disrupt me and possibly get me into trouble"? The other week I felt concerned about how my head is, I was concerned I was getting slightly manic, and feeling the anxiety again from my subconscious digging up long buried items that were never dealt with properly, bringing them to my attention in order to deal with them and it took a good few days to go back to feeling normal. I felt I was not in a place to make a rational decision for a couple of days. That was frightening, I still can't believe I doubted myself that much, it was like any benefit the medication had disappeared. 

When on the other side of those days I actually felt far more confident and happy, as I recognised the issues it raised. I spoke to my doctor about it who chased the CPN, who I can now make an appointment to see. I feel a lot better now, but I will take advantage of this. The problem with mental illness, is that medication helps get you to place where you can start dealing with what is wrong, yes it's possible it's a chemical imbalance, and medication might be all that's needed. For me, and I guess a lot of other people, avoiding the issue makes our problems worse, and needing to talk about, recognise and address these problems. 

I don't know if I have been able to convey the sense of how I feel now, compared to how I had for years. The difference is like night and day. I'm not where I need to be yet, but I am making good progress, there's still rocky terrain ahead, where there's potential conflict to face, but I am better prepared. 

Creative

I thought it was a load of pish that no one looked at unless they were into cakes or 'pretty' things. 
How I was wrong! What am I talking about? Pinterest.

I'd been looking at pedalboard cases and trying to work out if I should buy one or build one, as it's tedious constantly setting up guitar FX pedals if I want to use my guitar. Pinterest was where I found some of the more novel ideas, which also stretched into DIY and I thought... I like that. I could do that. I'm not bad at DIY, I built my own fence and gate from planks and posts, no pre-built panels or gate for me. I've been having a bit of a creative buzz recently. I feel compelled to make things.

It started back in the heart of my KLF binge last year, I wasn't just listening to the music. I was looking at the structure, reading articles and books about the history and methods used. I looked into what Bill and Jimmy are doing now. They continue to create, Bill his paintings, writings and artworks. Jimmy his various artworks and his Aftermath Displacement Principle, which you may know better as the model village from Dismaland. 

Doing this sparked a renewed interest in making things, whether it's music, mixtapes, being arty, doing crafty DIY activities, writing blogs or making something silly for my website, I want to be creating something. Some say that the journey in life is more important that the destination, I suppose I could apply that to this. If something doesn't work, go back try changing it, or scrap it and do something different. It's nice to have an end result that I'm pleased with, but if it's not it doesn't matter I've learned something, move onto the next thing.

I've spent too much time not doing things I want to be, whether it's been playing guitar or bass, sitting randomly making some nonsensical collage or sitting down and writing out thoughts, even if only for myself. In the past I've dismissed doing this "What if I'm not very good at this?" or "What if someone was to read these private thoughts?" Now, particularly the past month I feel I'm moving past this. Also issues relating to time are now more a case of What can I do in the available time? rather than Oh I only have x amount of time I'll do something else.

This weekend for example, the pedal board stopped being an idea and solidified in the real world. Made from a single plank of wood with no instructions just a memory of a design I liked. This for me is change, this is me making things happen instead of letting ideas drift away.

In other news I finally got my paws on KLF 008 R

Some Thoughts From The Evil Step-Parent

I know that once I post this, it is likely that an event will occur that will in some way contradict what I've written. Life finds it amusing to remind me to be flexible as nothing is ever set in stone. 

I have never ruled out having children, I have never really ruled it in either, it's been a I'll-deal-with-it-when-such-conversation-arises issue. I look ahead fifty years from now and see a world nearing the apocalypse. It's even more over populated at 11 billion people. Millions starving, fighting over scraps of food,  forced to turn to cannibalism.  I read an article recently where they suggested the earth could comfortably sustain 1 billion people, so looks like unless there's a few natural disasters we're all doomed.

I have two step-children, who may have to face this potential fictional future. I didn't bring them into this world so I don't feel guilty about the world they'll inhabit when I'm on my death bed. Mainly because I've tried to look after the environment, generally avoid eating fish or animals and I try not to be an arsehole. I can seen them smothering me with a pillow so I'll hurry up and die, just so they have a source of food for the next couple of weeks. As I begin to lose conciousness, I'll look back and wonder if I helped to make the right decisions when raising them.

Back in the present those decisions I'm partly responsible for making? Parenting children is not an easy task, and it differs a bit with step children. With step parenting I don't have the emotional bond that most parents form before, at and after the birth of their child. The bond that gets them through the initial sleepless weeks and stops them handing over their child to a random stranger in a park while they have a sleep on the nearest bench. My bond has been slowly developing over time, I had to learn how to talk and act around them when they wondered who is this new person was. It was a bit being thrown in the deep end, I didn't know how to talk to children, I had to get on with it and hope it was the right thing. I seem to be managing well enough, though sometimes I wonder about they think the line between parent and friend seems to be, wonder if it seems to be more on the friend side than I am comfortable with.

When they are being particularly difficult I wonder what life would be like without them. I wish them no harm, but in rare moment of extreme behaviour I do fleetingly wonder if parents who resort to calming their children through medication perhaps have the right idea, before deciding it's probably illegal to buy Ritalin on-line and and close the incognito tab about it and the other one about adoption. This if I understand, is a common thought for parents. * 

I first met my children when they were two and five years old. I'd had no influence on them until this age, I wonder what effects both positive and negative I might have had on them had they been my own? Would they be the same as now or would they be different in some way?

I don't want anyone reading to think that I am not attached to my children, it took a long while for it to feel comfortable referring to them as 'my children'. I reduced my use of the term "step-children" after I got married last year. I'm aware that while I'm not the biological parent, I see them as my children, I help raise them, I try to steer them on the right path, make sure they eat healthily, treat them fairly, try to ensure they are conscientious,well rounded individuals who don't sit and watch TV and play computer games all day. 

This doesn't mean it's been plain sailing, we arranged counselling for the older one to help him cope with his occasional anger, frustrations at his dad leaving and a lack of confidence. We found after we got married that it helped cement some stability into his life, so he's felt more secure. He's also being assessed at the moment as it's possible some of his behaviour may be unrelated to environmental factors.

One thing that will always be true is that I am not their dad. At this point I see the memes going past on Facebook about how being a parent isn't just biological, there's a whole lot more to it than that. I am aware of that. They don't call me dad except accidentally, they usually call me Douglas, I take those accidents as a sign I'm doing something right. I'm not sure I want them to call me Dad. They see their dad, two or three times a week. To his credit he spends time with them, however he could make far more of an effort and make that time of a better quality. He comes round twice a week after school to see them. He is often sat on the sofa watching the TV and looking at the internet on his phone for an hour or so, he does interact sometimes. He also takes them at the weekend.

Christmas is an odd one. The kids always have gone to their aunt's house (their dad's sister) on Christmas day. who goes to a lot of trouble to do the whole umpteen course set up, smoked salmon, quail's eggs, etc. Previous Christmases I've gone to my parents and my wife has gone with the kids and her ex. We spent until lunchtime with the boys, then go our separate ways. 

2014 was our first Christmas together as a married couple, we decided it would be unfair to the children to not let them go to their aunt's, there was also the expectation they would go. We had recently acquired a puppy, so at lunchtime on Christmas day, the kids went off, my wife and I took our puppy out for her very first walk at Devilla Forest and then returned home and cooked a veggie Christmas dinner and had a very chilled day. We discussed what to do next Christmas, running away to a cottage was one suggestion. It's hard because we're torn between wanting to do something as a family, but at the same time, not wanting to disappoint the kids, who've always had a certain set up where Christmas is involved. To take that away from them would be unfair, so 2015 was a repeat of 2014. 

I like to think we as adults can be entertaining and funny when it comes to parenting. Aside from being labelled as having "dad jokes", I think it's fun to take parenting lessons from Calvin and Hobbes.  I did try telling the kids the world used to be black and white, but my wife was having none of it and was advised not to tell them such as they could go into school and start repeating such as fact. That didn't stop me from trying recently, my wife made a comment about animals crying at the thought of being eaten, the younger child found that comment funny so I said,

"You know the clear juice that comes out of meat when you cut into it? That's it crying!" This was met with hilarity from the seven year old.

The children are generally well behaved except for the odd sugar crash, bout of illness, lack of sleep or some incident at school turning one or both of them into monsters. In other words, just like normal children. If something is causing upset we try and find the root cause to address it. I am thankful that for at least a couple of years I've never had to hear anything along the lines of "You can't tell me what to do, you're not my dad." These sort of changes are never easy for kids, but at the same time it's been a case of both me and the children learning, having patience and listening to the sagely advice of my wife. 

* If you find something here disturbing, it's more than likely been said tongue in cheek.