Preparing to Face the Fear

What do you do when faced with having to do something you fear?

a) Fear? What’s that? I fear nothing!

b) Run away!

c) Hide and hope it will go away.

d) Face it head on – show it I’m not scared!

e) Do everything you can to best prepare for everything it may present you with.

Really, I suppose your response is going to depend on the situation. For example, I am terrified of spiders so faced with a huge one of those my response would be b. Run away, fast. I’m someone who thinks people who call the emergency services to help them deal with an eight-legged fiend in their home are perfectly reasonable.

Anyway, this is not a post about my arachnophobia. The fear I am facing is returning to work next Tuesday. Saying it’s a fear sounds strange. It’s not like it’s something that makes me jump in terror like seeing a big spider scuttle across the floor.

I have been away from work since early February, 2014. That’s a very long time. In that time, Hugo was born, Hugo lived, Hugo died. I had to recover from my illness. I had to find support to help me deal emotionally with my illness, Hugo’s too-short life, and his death. It took me a very long time to find that support, and in that time I developed coping strategies that helped me survive but that were not conducive to being out in the big, bad world. Those coping strategies involved being in control. Staying at home, usually; it felt safer. Controlling who I saw, spoke to and when.

Finally, the support I needed transpired. Another tough journey, scabs torn off, wounds reopened. But progress made.

An acknowledgement that any progress is good. Self-compassion, self-care. I have to be kind to myself. There is no cure for grief. This is forever.

Eventually, finally, I felt as ready as I ever will be to return to work.

And what is there to fear, rationally? It’s only work. It’s not like I’m in the armed forces, in the firing line. I work in a hospital, and not on the front line.

The problem? I will be returning to work with a couple of new companions: grief and anxiety. They can take up lots of energy, needle you with self-doubt, taunt you by sending you in to a spin of a deep, dark, mood.

Frustratingly, they do not understand rational thought. Telling myself there is nothing to fear does not remove the fear.

So, I am focusing on option e. Doing everything I can to prepare.

Being compassionate towards myself for those times when grief or anxiety take over. Making time for self-care so I have more positive energy to help cope with the dark moods. Teaching myself to resist negative energy, to focus on what it is important, to know my own limits.

Remembering that one step, one day at a time is all I need to do.

Remembering that I have dealt with so much worse in the past year. And survived.

Remembering that I work with so many wonderful, kind, compassionate people, many of whom I am proud to call friends.

Remembering that by remembering my self-care and self-compassion tools, I can remain in control of many things.

Remembering that some people will not know what to say, meaning that they may look at me like I am a leper, ignore me, or say the ‘wrong’ thing. That does not make them bad people. I have handled all sorts, I can handle this too.

Remembering that moving forward with my life does not mean moving on from Hugo. Hugo is still with me. In my heart, in my mind, his legacy in everything that I do.

Remembering that this is a landmark moment marking the end of the most beautiful, the most harrowing, the most wonderful, the most heartbreaking, the most eye-opening, the most challenging period of my life.

Remembering that while I wish with every cell in my body Hugo was still with me, I am the stronger for everything that has happened.

Preparations for facing the fear of what is next. But knowing that surely, what is next can never be as bad as what has come before.

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Word of the Week: Preparation

Prompt word: Fear

Friday Favourites: Words That Are Good for Our Emotional Wellbeing

You may have heard of terms like mindfulness, meditation, self-care, self-compassion. These might be concepts you already use, or you want to find out more about what they are.

You might think those words, and ‘nurturing your emotional wellbeing’ is all airy-fairy.

The fact is, we all need a bit of time out from our hectic lives, a bit of emotional comfort every now and then. We all need to nurture our emotional wellbeing to help recharge the batteries and prevent us burning out.

You are likely to find the books listed below in the ‘self help’ section of the bookshop. I don’t like the term ‘self help’ very much though; it implies there is something ‘wrong’ with you, something that has to be fixed. It’s more about fine-tuning. Many self-help books can be guilty of navel-gazing, too. That’s why I prefer to call them ‘words that are good for our emotional wellbeing’.

Mindfulness means different things to different people – to me, it means taking the time to appreciate the flowers and the birdsong; to make time for self-care; to be compassionate to myself when I am having a bad grief day by acknowledging the strong feelings are part of grief and do not make me a bad person; to clear my mind of racing thoughts. It is not, and can never be a cure for grief or emotional troubles – it helps me cope – and therefore find more joy and happiness in life.

I found most of the books below as a result of my grief journey, but they are not specific to grief. Anyone interested in finding a bit of emotional time out will find them useful.

The Little Book of Mindfulness by Tiddy Rowan is a good place to start exploring the concept. The book is full of information about the benefits of mindfulness, and suggests ways to practise mindfulness, and meditation too. The suggestions are easy to integrate in to your everyday life – it’s not an ‘extra’ thing to have to do. Mindfulness should be a bonus, not a burden.

It’s perfect to dip in and out of, and find something that resonates with you – you don’t need to read it cover to cover.

As the title suggests, the book is little which means it’s easy to carry around and have a read when you have a few moments to spare.

I placed a pen next to the book so you can get an idea of scale, and that the book’s size lives up to its title!

The Alphabet of the Human Heart by Matthew Johnstone details the A to Zen of Life. A psychiatrist suggested the book to me, and I am glad she did; I have now become a big fan of Matthew Johnstone’s books!

Positive concepts…

…and concepts that can be damaging to our wellbeing.

The concept of the book is simple: it contains beautiful illustrations alongside some words of inspiration and encouragement, from A to Z. At one end of the book are positive words and concepts; turn the book around, and there are words and concepts that can be harmful to your wellbeing.

Again, it is a good book to dip in and out of when you have a moment. It is also effective when you are having a ‘moment’ – I find it helps calm me, and the simplicity of the text means it’s good for a foggy brain.

Become The Best You by Renee Davis. My lovely blogging friend Renee (Mummy Tries) wrote this  account of how she broke the cycle of a dysfunctional early life to be the person she wanted to be. I highly recommend it to anyone who wants to make positive changes in their life, whatever their background or whatever those changes are. You can read more about the book in my review.

The Little Book of Resilience by Matthew Johnstone – this is the book I read last week that led to my lightbulb moment (I am pleased to report that I am keeping true to the  promises I made!).

Resilience is understanding that life will not always go to plan, that life does not always play fair, and finding ways to get back on your feet again. Like all Johnstone’s books The Little Book of Resilience is very visual, with humorous illustrations accompanying tips to help you build up your resilience. I love this picture – it pretty much sums up the book!

I discovered Flow Magazine while browsing in WH Smith. It is quite unlike any magazine I have ever read: it focuses on encouraging creativity, imagination, imperfection, and mindfulness.

The magazine’s ethos reminds me of a BBC Horizon programme a few years ago, which was about how the best ideas come when you are not trying to think of ideas, but when your mind is relaxed and open to things. It makes sense: sitting at your computer trying to write a post when you are feeling uninspired doesn’t work, as I have discovered! Going off to do something else instead helped inspire me to write a post from the heart – the lesson for me was don’t force it.

The magazine is full of pretty little things like little ‘poetry pictures’ and a journal. Priced at £10 it seems expensive for a magazine, but being quarterly it is good value, especially considering the quality of the contents – and the potential for giving a boost to your creativity, leading to more ideas and inspiration!

 

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Coping

A few weeks ago I wrote about how I need to have courage and to be kind to myself, because my life after bereavement and trauma is forever.

With a return to work imminent, I have been trying to do more things, push myself, and reintegrate.

That has meant testing my coping strategies.

Grief really does come in waves. As I described in this post, grief can be a tormenting tease. The positivity I felt from events last week such as a wonderful trip to Leeds after was extinguished in a heartbeat last Saturday morning.

Back were the feelings of lowness and panic, and with a vengeance.

There were a couple of things that contributed to this dip. Last week had been a busy one, and I am learning the hard way that my energy levels are limited. A psychiatrist gave me a useful explanation for this: in ‘normal’ (for want of a better word) life we spend 70% of our brain’s energy thinking of and doing normal everyday stuff. In dealing with grief or trauma, the brain spends that 70% of its energy on just getting through the day and on self-preservation, leaving just 30% for normal everyday stuff. That was helpful to explain my brain fog, my now-terrible memory (I frequently forget or take a while to respond to things – sorry). So, my busy week of ‘normal’ things wore me out emotionally as well as physically. As I adapt, and learn my boundaries, that will hopefully improve.

Another was news that the new Royal baby was in its way. My response felt silly, but being kind to myself I had to reflect it is perfectly rational in the context of my life: the news underlined everything I so badly want but do not have, and what I may never have (in terms of being able to go into labour when the baby is ready, and have a natural birth).

In response, I did the sensible thing and avoided social media as best I could until the media hubbub subsided.

Martin and I had a film day, which was much-needed. It gave us a break, and kept me away from social media.

Other things in my self-care coping armoury include colouring-in of course; taking pictures of bright and colourful things for my Instagram account; and I’m also getting more into Pinterest, finding lovely things – it’s a safer form of window shopping. Frustratingly, because I love books reading is still hit and miss, but hopefully that too will come.

Resonant words to remember

I stumbled across this picture on social media a couple of days ago. It is from the beautiful CarlyMarie Project.

Most of the words really resonated, because they sum up succinctly what I have been trying to achieve.

What my heart, my soul needs to not just survive, but to thrive.

I say ‘most of’ the words resonated, because I am unsure of the last line, “the more my heart could heal.” I am not sure whether my heart ever can heal. I’m not sure if all the achieving and thriving in the world can make my heart heal. There will always be a Hugo-shaped hole in my heart.

Ultimately, however, it is the overall sentiment that caught my eye.

Not second-guessing, or judging my feelings is something I am trying to achieve.

Grief can be a messy business. My grief is messy because it is entangled with the trauma of my illness.

I want to feel grateful for being alive, without a sense of guilt that Hugo is not.

I want to not feel guilty about ‘wasting precious time’ feeling sad. Feeling sad is a natural part of grief.

I want to not feel guilty about being sociable, or withdrawn.

I want to be more compassionate towards myself. More mindful of my feelings. Not beat myself up for feeling something, or not feeling something. I have enough to deal with without lumbering myself with being so critical of myself, too.

These words have been written in my diary. The hope is that the more I read them, the better the chance of them sinking in.

You never know. Stranger things have happened.