Remember To Live Before You Die

Life is for the living - So many people spend their time worrying about life after death but forget to actually live before they die.

Many would say that I should shut up and listen to my own advice. I had a "rebirth" four years ago. My life crumbled and turned to ashes, and yes, like the fabled Phoenix, I emerged. I did not fly however, I stumbled around, getting my bearings. Now I'm ready to test those wings. 

Those that know me well understand that there is much in this life I want to achieve but circumstances do not currently permit this. I am, however, a patient man. 

I don't worry about what will happen when I die, as die I most certainly will. The promise of the afterlife or suchlike has no hold over me. Today is now. Tomorrow is something I cannot plan for, or change. Yesterday is gone. I live for today and hope that tomorrow will be kind.

The choices I make, and will make, might not be to everyones liking. They will be MY choices. In this one life I have been given, I will do my utmost to help others, to help myself, be happy. To be free. 

There are people who would silence me, control me. I say this to them.. 

I must do what I think is the right thing. I am no longer afraid of what others might think of me. Their opinion is theirs alone. If I make mistakes, then they are MY mistakes to make.

Richness of spirit does not depend on whether we are "religious" or not. As long as what we do in life harms nobody, then what we do is our own concern. Being a good person is not dependent on whether we worship a deity, attend church or call ourselves religious - Being a good person comes from within. It's something we do, not something we claim to be.

Many claim that forgiveness of others that have committed a crime against our person is the only way to find peace. I refuse to forgive those that assaulted my body and my innocence when I was a child. They committed a crime, a vile, disgusting, perverted crime that corroded almost my entire adult life to date. Forgive that? NO. I am free of the past and I did not forgive. If forgiveness is what it takes for you to move on, then so be it. Please do not be persuaded that it is a necessary stage. Another bizarre claim is that such people could be treated, rehabilitated and returned to society with no risk or danger to others. Again I strongly disagree.

My beliefs and opinions may not be yours, and I am not forcing you to adopt my way of thinking. I simply want my opinions to be a matter of record.

Another point I would like to clarify is this. I campaign for victims of abuse to step forward and disclose what happened to them. I actively encourage it because it is the only way that the true extent of these crimes can be made public. Disclosure in itself can lift a massive weight from the shoulders of the victims. However, If someone is not able to disclose, for whatever reason I do not think it right that they should be forced or cajoled to do so. Personal safety first and foremost. Always ensure that your well being will not be compromised. If your circumstances are such that you are no longer at risk, then please do not try and face the disclosure and your "healing" journey alone. 

I am not a therapist, I have no qualifications in any field relating to counselling or mental health. I do however have a great deal of first hand experience. I have studied a great deal on these topics. My purpose, my plan, is to educate, to be a voice, to stand up and be counted for both myself and for those who are unable to use their own voice. We are all uniquely individual. I do not have a quick fix, or even a generalised fix. I share with you what works for me and I invite others to this blog to do the same. I hope that from our experiences that others can find a path that works for them. 

Recovery from trauma is not easy. Sorry to be so blunt. Recovery and the ability to live your life free from the chains that bound you in the past is more than possible. It is very doable. The process can itself be very painful, but you are in control of that. Control is the key. You are the master or mistress of your own future. By taking the decision to disclose and free yourself from the past YOU are in charge. Take big strides or baby steps, you decide what works for you. Do not allow yourself to be pushed into doing things that make you feel unsafe. Ease yourself into it, take a deep breath, and stay in control.

This post has covered a few things that have been playing on my mind recently. It's from the heart, so forgive me if it's a little jumbled... 

Life is a gift and we must live in the present. 

Perfectly Broken #mentalhealth #life #WorldMentalHealthDay

Define perfection for me...

I am far from perfect, in fact I would say I am quite imperfect in most ways.

  

I don't have an ego, let alone a big one most of the time. I am simply everything... I use the word ego loosely. I have self worth so therefore have a sense of ego. It is rarely, but can be, over inflated. Learning to accept that "I" was enough took a long time, even if I was the only one who thought so. 

I have fought to stand up for myself in this imperfect little world. I have learnt that I do have some value despite the efforts of so many in the past to totally erase any such thoughts. Having some realisation of self worth is important. I am a stubborn bull too.. I have taken a long time to use my voice and I am not easily silenced these days. Truth be told, I am far more dangerous when forced into silence than if I am allowed to express myself. If I feel slighted or aggrieved it is far better to hear me out than to let my volcanic juices simmer into boiling point. I am fair, I am kind, I will listen to others points of view. With regards my stubborn bull, you have to remember that I have fought hard to become who I am. I may well often be wrong but I retain the right to express my opinion and to be heard. In circumstances where I feel I am being ignored or squashed I will eventually explode and quite possibly cut off my own nose to spite my face. This is a fault of mine. It all comes down to priorities.

I have never claimed sanity amongst the few values I do attribute to myself. Sanity is purely a state of mind and that state has different levels of socially acceptable norm in different cultures.  I am broken, however that has made me stronger and possibly even better than I would have been. This reminds me of the Japanese art of Kintsukori, which means "to repair with gold". It is the art of repairing pottery with gold or another precious metal and understanding that the piece is both more beautiful and valuable for having been broken.

I have many broken friends, and the broken in me bows to the broken in them.

I do believe in loyalty and standing by those that we love. At any cost. I believe that long term personal relationships (romantic love) should become before family and friends as long as the relationship is not suffocating or controlling. Again there will be differences in what each party will consider to be controlling behaviour and such should be worked out without confrontation and hopefully with give and take from both sides. I consider myself to be loyal and true, a good person. I know I have faults, many of them, but disloyalty or betrayal is not amongst them. Insecurity is something that I have always suffered with. I was so brow beaten into believing I would amount to nothing as a child and young adult. Some family members betrayed me and were disloyal to me. It caused a number of trust issues, many of which I have overcome. Many I have not. Some of my reactions to events might seem over the top to a lot of people, to me they make sense. I do not trust easily and if my trust is broken the consequences can be far reaching. One particular family member hounded me for most of my life. Karma has dealt with them. 

Being "broken" has it's up and downsides in the present day. Some things have made me more resilient whilst others have left me with people issues. I think I am a pretty good judge of character, I observe a great deal. I am slow to get to know new people and do sometimes even then make mistakes. I am human after all. I hate it when a reaction I may have which is quite normal to most people is seen or defined as "because of the past" or because I have insecurities. I hate being walked over, my worries and concerns ignored or put down to my being not quite right in the head. In love I need to be told often that I am important, that I am loved. I need my feelings to be considered and even if it means a sacrifice, I need that sacrifice to be performed. This is only ever over major issues, major to me anyway. 

I can put up with a lot of pain from people, I have a thick skin. The problem is that if I have let you through to my inner world and you then hurt me it will take a lot of effort from you to put that right. The inner me is gentle and easily hurt.  That does not mean I am weak. 

I believe in an eye for an eye. The exceptions are when no harm was intended. Again the act of what harms one might be something that would not harm another. If that is the case I believe in forgiveness. I would not expect that harm to be replicated in the future however. If you know something offends or harms someone you should do all possible to ensure that possible future instances of that harm is minimalised. Understanding that we are not all the same, that we all have different triggers and tastes will hopefully lead to a more stable and mutually beneficial state of being. Never underestimate me. 

I have experienced life on many levels. I have lived and have a lot more living to do.Life is a journey and we are not given a road map. We may, if lucky, be given pointers but for the most part we must work our own way through life. Many of us may be fortunate enough to meet someone who can walk with us, at whatever stage we are at. Someone who we can trust with our very being. Life is short, no matter what your belief in afterlife, rebirth, or returning to cosmic dust or electron particles. Make the most of it.

Writing as Therapy #writing Guest Post for @McGuireHimself

This is a piece I wrote recently as a guest blog for Patrick McGuire. McGuire offers a webpage that covers a wide variety of interests: jokes, serious commentary, recipes, poems comic and serious. As one reader put it, "McGuireHimself.com is about the life, loves and literature of Patrick McGuire." His blog can be found HERE and hiw Twitter is @McGuireHimself

 

 

 

 

Why do I write so much and so often? For decades I was unable to express my innermost thoughts and feelings verbally. Initially because I was silenced by those that abused me. The fear of reprisals for speaking out far outweighing the need to "tell". I felt disconnected from the world around me, an island in the vast ocean of life. I started writing about my feelings in my early teens. I wrote to stop my head exploding... There was so much I wanted to say but was unable to give voice to my thoughts. Some of these early attempts at writing are difficult for me to read even now, the raw pain I felt then leaping out of the words to slap me in the face.

Writing as therapy focuses on expressive writing and its value in processing life experience, particularly trauma and change. Use writing to express your  “deepest thoughts and feelings” regarding a particular subject (e.g. illness, recent loss, life upheavals, past trauma etc.).  Writing, more so than speaking out thoughts or feelings aloud, presents us with a slower, solitary mode for reflection. Unlike conversations, we’re less concerned with another person’s reaction. We listen perhaps more intently to our own voices and catch glimpses of subtler stirrings. We own our words in a more definitive and personal way.

Many people use writing as therapy, perhaps without even realising it. Keeping a diary or journal is a common and popular pass time in which secrets are often written down, dreams expressed and desires given life. Blogging is a more recent phenomenon and is yet another form of expressive writing. It's a more public form of "therapy", sharing with the world our hopes, expectations, thoughts and ideas. Using the internet also allows one to be as private or public as one wishes. Identities can be assumed and a sense of safety obtained by "hiding" behind a screen of some sort.

For me, being finally able to give my words wings and letting them fly around the world was hugely empowering. I have much that I have not yet shared, things too painful for my consiousness to process still. Some of these exist in private writings and others exist in my mental journal. One day I hope to give all these memories, fears, hopes and aspirations a life, to cast the pain out along with the words.

I find writing to be as relaxing as meditation. It calms my inner seas and brings my sometimes erratic and painful thoughts to the safety of a secure harbour. There are many forms of writing; there are many styles. We have different ways of expressing ourselves; we also have varied reasons for doing so. But when pen and paper or finger and keyboard make contact, thoughts are released and the mind gets more focused as we are instinctively drawn towards the quiet center of the self.

Anyone can use writing as a means to clear their thoughts, to give order to chaos. Writing is a disciplinary act that can give new insights into yourself and your relationships. It is also completely honest, for what do you gain by lying to yourself? It is a therapy designed for everybody, not just for the disturbed, distressed or dying. Writing is a spiritual journey, it is the soul searching for truth. Writing should flow through you, cleansing and clearing as it progresses.

Use writing to manage your stress. Identify the external reason or reasons for your stress, then link your own contribution to this stress. Pinpoint what is bothering you, what happened or is happening to add to the stress levels. Write about your responses, your feelings and thoughts related to the events. Tell yourself in your own written words why you are distressed, decide what you can do to control the situation. Decide on a way forward. Be honest!

You don't have to devote much time to use writing as therapy, perhaps 10-15 minutes a day is all you will need. If you have the urge to write more then be sure to take breaks, read and read again what you have written before you go on. You can write about how writing makes you feel! Don't let writing become a chore. Relax, walk the dog, dig the garden, tell your partner you love them and don't forget to tell yourself the same. Writing as therapy should be relaxing, not a stress in it's own right.

Writing helped keep me sane (well as sane as was possible given the circumstances), it gave an outlet to the turmoil I felt inside and allowed me to feel some benefit from sharing my experiences, if only with myself.. I can't imagine a life where I would be unable to write, to express myself on screen or paper. I write, therefore I am!

Flashbacks of a Fool?

Twelve months ago I was going through a very bad time. I'd been trying to keep my business  afloat for over a year. I'd taken financial and industry specific advice, I'd made all the cutbacks I could think of.  I'd ended up in therapy for stress and all I could see was doom and gloom. The whys and wherefores I've blogged about previously so will not repeat them now.

My therapist at the time used to say "so what?" "will the world come to an end if your business fails?" I thought yes, very much so, my world would collapse. I'd borrowed heavily to buy the business off my former employer, the interest which was based on the LIBOR system was crippling me and I'd been unable to renew essential stocks for months.

I'd spent twenty years working in the same place, climbing the ladder from tea boy/filing clerk through management and into a directors role. I then became the owner. All signs were that I would do well, my accountant even worrying that I would make too much money. At first all went well.. Then the banking crisis and  global recession  hit hard. On October 13th last year I closed the doors and ceased trading.

I was devastated. It did feel as if my world had indeed collapsed. I felt shame, guilt, remorse and anger.  I floated through meetings with insolvency practitioners and creditors, I met with old friends who told me I'd had no chance with the state of the economy and the fact my staff had turned against me. The cutbacks I'd had to make were not popular. I hated making them but they were the only way I could think to save money.  My ex employer was also in the background having decided he didn't like retirement. Three months after I'd closed the doors he bought the business assets for a fraction of their true value and is now back at the helm, with most of my ex employees working for him...

Que sera sera... I survived that too. The therapist was right... My world changed but did not collapse. In truth, having the pressures of business removed allowed me to concentrate on myself for the first time in decades. I published my debut book in March this year and whilst it isn't a best seller I am proud of it. Very proud of it.

Life has become much harder. Employment is still something that eludes me. My family and I have made many sacrifices this last year. During the eight months before I had to close my business and the months since I have also been trying to deal with the memories of abuse that still surprise me now and then.

At the moment much is at stake. Nobody seems to want to employ an ex employer. I have learnt many skills over the last twenty five years. Before last year I'd not spent more than a few weeks unemployed since leaving University. I've so much to give but it seems I am fighting an impossible fight.

The Internet has become a lifeline in so many ways. It's allowed me to not only share my own experiences but also to learn from other peoples. It's allowed me to bare my inner self, to hopefully show that there is no shame in saying "I'm a MALE survivor of childhood sexual abuse & adult rape" I've "met" some pretty awesome and amazing people this last year or so. I've grown as a person and have also been deeply moved and humbled by the stories and kindness of others. Thank you for that.

The future is again a scary place. I doubt I can continue to maintain an online presence after December. The money is simply not going to be there. I'm trying to get my second book into some semblance of sense but am struggling because of the intensity of emotions writing it presents. Again I'm told "so what" etc etc. ok... I survived the collapse of my business but now will soon face the collapse of everything else. That really scares the pants off me.

I'm a fighter, a survivor. I've lived through several layers of hell and come out fighting. Then though I wax fighting just for myself. Now I have a family to consider too and I again feel shame, guilt and a huge sense of failure because I will be letting them down.  None of us knows what tomorrow will bring. I hope that my tomorrow brings gainful and paid employment.

If you're still reading then I thank you. I hope this doesn't come across as self pity because that is certainly not my aim. On top of everything else I don't want to let you, my readers, down either. I'm doing something I enjoy, I'm apparently helping others. I wanted to work with people after I left school but my father wanted me to follow his footsteps into engineering. I hate machines... They have no feeling, no "soul". I'm told I have a heightened sense of empathy, great if working with people but useless when working with machines or metal....

I've no idea what life has in store for me, I can only cling onto the one thing that has always got me through... HOPE.

Agony Of Unfinished Words

I could not write
one single line
last aching night.
I felt so discarded.
I could not form
one paltry verse
into poetic form.
I felt so unwanted.

I could not work,
not concentrate,
on anything.
I felt so unloved.
I had to put it
all aside, picking it up
and putting it aside.
I felt so lost.

I was not happy
with even one word
of my writings.
I felt so rejected.
I could not create,
invoke or evoke
anything of any kind.
I felt so buried.

I wrote and wrote
and not even one line
said what I wanted to say.
I felt so constrained.
I hated all the lines,
as all they were
was his absence.
I felt so in love.

His absence
made into an infinite
kind of symbol.
I felt so alone.
Everything the absence
of all that I love most
as to the man I love.
I felt so desiring.

Perhaps only I care
what I felt.
After a while
all I could understand
was one untitled work
inclusive of everything:
as to how cruel
a twist of unloved fate.
existence proves to be.

I wondered,
is that one untitled work
the only true masterpiece
I might be given to create ?
This time was different
I could not do art
to distract myself
from the pain of heartbreak.

Lovelorn

I was among people,
among friends, I suppose,
but so estranged
from mental sparring,
intellectual jousting,
from unwording anyone
who happened to ride
upon a phrase.
Tilting an alleged fact
at an opponent,
the diversion failed,
and for all the world
I wanted to rush outside
and walk the streets
not knowing where,
as if I could chance
to find you
walking the streets,
somewhere,
as sleepless as I was.
I wanted to sieze
the first telephone box
and dial your number,
to hear your voice,
instead of all the other voices
of the world talking
at each other,
with not a word from you
and all I could do
was repeat your name
to the sky
as if you could hear me
telling you I love you.
When we love someone
we cannot go looking
uninvited,
for whom we love,
and must forge chains
to hold ourselves
from passionate pursuit
those chains
as then must chain
heart, mind and body
to ache and strain
against constraints,
keeping to one's self
all that one would express
if only the other were near
and would allow
such expressions.