Nov 24

 Day by day the exhaustion bites slightly harder.

Yesterday I barely got my head over the parapet. I should have slept. Turned it into one of those days that just entirely disappear in sleep with a few hours of wakefulness and hydration. But I stubbornly refused to submit. No. Fuck off. I refuse to be exhausted. I just need to get through it.

Uh huh.

This is Not The Way.

Today was therapy day. I woke up at 9am in a horror state. Bathroom. Drink. Back to bed.

Alarm went off at 1pm. I felt. Terrible. So tired. Exhausted. Marvellous.

I reset the alarm for 1.30pm. But. Instead in the meantime slowly, oh so slowly, warmed up. The alarm went off during me trying to warm up. Ok. Grit teeth. Shower. I figured. Today was going to be a hard ask energy wise for therapy.

As it turned out by the time I stepped out of the door, a flicker of energy had been found, and for a little while I had some fuel to burn. About 15 minutes after therapy, the exhaustion slumped back in.

This week in therapy we covered the surgery a little. Just out of interest for the therapist really. But. That also turned into a thing. I described the whole thing as a non event. The shrink gently disagreed. Then more strongly disagreed on hearing about the anaesthetic fumbling. Then very strongly disagreed when I revealed it was 3 surgeries, 6 years. A non event I said.

That's more surgeries than most people have they said.

Eh. There are worse things. I know there are worse things.

We talked a little about a shitty silver lining to always walking through the abyssal plains of suffering, is that it can make everything else trivialise to a point of nothing. If the surgery was the biggest problem in my life, oh happy days. How easy life would be.

The shrink asked if I was ever scared at any point during the surgeries.

No. Nothing. Not even a flicker. 

I said that I was aware I had a fucky view on it, but to me, there was nothing to fear, if they killed me during the surgery, that wouldn't be something to fear. That would be a relief. They would have done me a favour. Euthanised via the state. I felt sorry for anyone I traumatised should that happen. But. Dead. On the table. Good.

We talked a little about pain. And passing out. The shrink pondered if I had some disassociation mechanism going on where the pain wouldn't always reach me, but it was bad enough to make me pass out. A disconnect between the cognitive side and the automnic. 

I said medically speaking, I struggle to think of any pain where I think, oh that's too much. It's always. Eh. Sure. It's a thing. Get on with it. And. Though I didn't particularly work at it consciously. There was a thing I did where I could distance myself from it. Recognise pain. But not let it affect me.

Post session I have realised there are definitely cases where pain is excruciating for me. One of those is my killer migraines. A pain you cannot run from or mitigate when it's upon you. And is awful. The other would be the bout of sciatica I had. So much pain. I couldn't move. But didn't pass out.

The shrink asked if all my brushes with medicine were similarly categorised for me as "non events". Eh. Yeah. Sure. Excepting one. When I nearly died from an asthma attack as a kid. That I said. Was not a non event. That was definitely A Thing. Bad juju.

We got into that. And. The shrink quickly focused on the actions of my parents.

So. They had left you struggling to breathe. And gone to sleep. Knowing the state you were in.

Yes I said.

The shrink glowered.

I laughed. I said there were no hospitals or ambulances or things like that. Just a realisation oh. The chemist is closed for the evening. We'll just wait. Meanwhile. I am dying on my ass. Literally.

I said I had a distinct memory of struggling to breathe and in the odd moment of clarity of not just struggling to survive as the night turned to dawn - I was awake all night, sitting up, gasping for breath - I watched the light of the dawn slowly rising. Thunderclouds in the sky. The city slowly waking up. And me. Desperate to breathe.

So what was the result the shrink asked.

I wasn't entirely sure. I seem to recall the following day first thing we saw a doc - we were in Spain - and I got some steroids I think.

And then on return to the UK. Saw the GP. Who immediately diagnosed me with severe asthma. And The rest of my childhood into my late teens was then a daily regime of steroids and calmatives, and a bunch of emergency inhalers.

So it was a big deal then the shrink said.

Oh yes I said. A very big deal. I had twice a day regular doses. Plus filler ups during the day.

I said as I have got older the asthma has become more serious again, and again I am on a daily treatment cycle to keep it in check. And said that the NHS here were brilliant in their asthma care. And they make it very clear that any even minor difficult breathing is a Big Deal and you should alert them and step up care and so on. They want to know. And they treat it very seriously. Me as a kid. Dying on my ass. Would be classed tier 1 emergency.

But your parents didn't do anything at the time.

Not really I said. Chemists were shut. They went to sleep.

They failed in their duty of care to you the shrink said.

I suppose so I said. Maybe. I was sanguine about it. The shrink was not.

You're laughing the shrink said seriously.

Well I said. It's funny. It's very on theme. Dying in the corner. Do nothing.

It's horrible the shrink said.

Yes, ok, its horrible and dark, but sometimes horrible and dark is also funny. 

The shrink made it clear this was Not Good.

I brought up the identity thing again. And how it was unrolling as a slow process in me. That initial understanding. Then hard denial. And then a slow melting. A slow processing of what it means. How do I feel about it. What are the consequences of how I feel about it. Where does it end up settling. I said that I had learned that sometimes, particularly with emotions or past events that it takes time for them to resolve. It's nothing something that just happens in a blink - I snapped my fingers. It takes time to process, percolate. And giving things time was often the best thing to do. Just. Wait. Breathe.

The shrink agreed emphatically. They were I think pleased with my understanding of it. Eh. I score a 10/10 on that question on the Are You A Good Patient quiz ? Heh.

I said there was still a strong pull in me that it didn't happen. Or. It's ok that it did. Or. I must be wrong. Or. I must be exaggerating. Or. It's ok. Things happen in a vacuum. Move on. And yes I am perfectly aware there is a strong sense of denial about it. But part of me processing of that is the slow melting of that resistance into acceptance. 

But the shrink brought this all back round. More grist to the mill.

I want to be very clear here they said.

The way you were treated in your childhood was unacceptable. The lack of care you received is horrible. And you should not have been treated that way.

I just listened quietly. And half nodded. I get the point they are very clearly making. A very firm line in the sand. No doubts. No denials. Not Fucking Good. Unequivocal. Your self doubt about this is not right. This is just more of the damage talking. About not being worthy of consideration.

You were taught that your opinion didn't matter. You didn't matter. And so of course as an adult you also think that way. You minimise the harm done to you.

Do you feel angry about it the shrink asked.

No. Not really I said. I am human, at times I said I get flashes of anger. At all sorts. I get angry at the world and how it is. How stupid people. How thoughtless. How cruel. A spurt of anger. And. There are tiny moments. When suddenly that lightning will hit. And I will get angry. Angry about how I was treated. Angry at the damage done to me. Angry at them for doing that.

Them being... your parents.

Yeah. I said.

The subtle shying away of naming them directly. That subtle tug to still not make myself a nuisance to them.

And then what happens to the anger the shrink said.

It does its thing I say. I mimicked an angry little tantrum thumped my fists on the arms of the chair. And then is melts away. Has its moment. And then. I think. About how I am being unfair. And I understand why people are the way they are. How they can lash out. Because they have trauma. Or fear. Or insecurity.

So your anger dissipates the shrink said.

Yeah. Mostly I said. All other things aside, if the world was a peaceful place. I think I am a very simple zen little monkey. No demands. No anxieties. Just. Happy to sit peacefully amongst the flowers. I don't need stuff. It's ironic. I said. But. The world I am in. And things. Disrupt that natural zen. I think I said you do see it coming through though. That understanding of people. I don't need to hate on people. Have an axe to grind. Once upon a time I was a lot more zen I said. Before I got ill. The illness fucks with zen a lot.

But there is a thing. Once you hit that point of, you're upset, now I react to you and I'm upset, and you're more upset, and I'm more upset. Once you pop out of that. And someone is upset. But you are not. You understand where their upset comes from. Past trauma. Fear. It becomes easier. You stop reacting to getting punched in the face. You empathise with them. And what you get out of it rather than anything else, is sadness. You are sad that they are so hurt. That they are in such fear or pain that they are in a state of lashing out.

And you start to see it everywhere. You get this sense of zen. Of not being caught up in the storm. But seeing the storm for what it is. And then. Overall I said. You can see that all of it - and perhaps this is me just being a miserable bastard - but there is a tragedy to it all, the whole of society. Everyone. Life is tragic at the meta scale. So much pain. So much fear. Insecurity. Trauma. It is tragic. Sad. And you feel for people.

The shrink nodded sadly. 

I sat for a moment letting the point float in the air and smiled.

Sometimes I think I am some stupid fucking hippie. Oh you understand this. Understand that. So understanding of people I mocked myself and smiled. Why don't you get angry. Punch someone a few times. Do something.

I could clearly see the shrinks brain ticking.

He's being mean to himself again. 

The shrink repeated the word stupid on its own. Knowingly. Not an agreement. A whack across the knuckles.

I kept smiling. I get I said, that that's the mean inner critic in me. Always grumbling.

Yes the shrink said. Always there. Always keeping you on your toes. Always having to be dealt with.

So I said. Anger at my parents. No. Nothing there I said.

To be clear the shrink said. Apparently today was the day when the shrink was making a series of unequivocal statements that brooked no interpretation but were as coldly straight as possible - a rarity. It would be ok if you were angry with them. I am angry about it. Angry about how you've been treated as a child.

I get that I said. "negative" emotions. Anger. Sometimes it has a purpose.

Yes said the shrink. It's there for a reason.

I understand. It's a communication. This isn't right. This hurts. You have crossed boundaries. Now you are getting shoved for it. Also. If I do that thing, and I take all those things are me, and lets give them to some imaginary person over there. Bob. Bob has been treated this way. Endured these things. Yes. I agree. Bob should be very angry. I am angry for Bob. I am sad Bob has been treated like that. I want to fight for Bob. Heh. I smiled again. The whole thing to me. Is just. Gently amusing.

But I said. I am not angry. There is nothing there.

I related that one of the few good GPs I had, we would often get to this sticking point. The GP thought I should be angry. I was not. You must be angry. I am not. You must be repressing it. I am not. They couldn't believe I was a zen cow. It was a repeated back and forth.

It also reminded me in that moment. That. Whilst I had absolutely not gone into any depth about my parents et al with the GP. That. It had become clear to me. I should feel angry about my treatment. Huh. And. I've only just really realised that. I was more focused on saying I wasn't angry. And not on the - wait a minute, why should I be angry exactly ? Which sounds dumb as rocks. But. I never. Hmm. Made that final step. Perhaps. Avoidance. Don't. Connect that last wire.

I have a lot of questions the shrink said. But we're out of time. I'm going to have to remember them for next time. The shrink looked frustrated the session was ending.

Ok.

One last thing I said. Is that I had heard the practice at some point which I thought was lovely. Of imagining all your angry and hate as a balloon. And you hold the string of the balloon bobbing along. Imagine it like that. And. Then imagine just opening your hand. And watching all that anger float away.

Very good.

Is that what you do the shrink said ?

Eh, not really. I am not angry like that at that level. But. I can see its use. I have said it to others at times. It is a very good excercise I think. And a few times I have done it myself. 

As always. I thanked the shrink on the threshold of exiting the door. I hope you have a nice week I said.

And stepped into the dim grey of british winter.

Things to ponder over this week.

The shrink has been as brutally clear as possible. Explicitly. I have been mistreated.

I can still feel me shrinking from it somewhat.

Hmm.

Still need to process it.

In the back of my head.

What are the consequences of this for my siblings. For where I tread. They aren't too far away either. What applies to me. Applies to them.

Yikes. 

Addendum.

I've come back to this entry. A thought experiment occurred to me given the reaction my shrink had to my severe childhood asthma attack.

Question

Your child cannot breathe. Not just a little. They are struggling to take a breath. They are on the edge of a panicked state because they can't breathe. It is difficult to stop them panicking. And each breath they take wheezes horribly. This is something that you've never seen before.

Do you

a) Seek medical attention immediately. Go to the hospital. Call an ambulance. An emergency doctor. Something.
b) try to seek a local chemist to give some advice or buy something maybe to aid breathing
c) do nothing, wait until tomorrow. and go to sleep yourself.

What's your answer ?

For fun. Google "nhs advice asthma severe difficulty breathing what to do" and see what the recommendation is there.

Now think about my parents reaction.