Is this a joke?

I'm still living partly in the Cave O' Hibernation but emerging every now and then to growl at people. Fun times. I'm not doing all that well, to be honest, but sometimes that's just the way it goes. I'm trying to deal with some rather heavy stuff that came up partly through writing and partly through other things and it's tough going. Very tough going.

Part of the fallout from all of this is massively increased anxiety. I've had a number of middle-of-the-night anxiety episodes of the heart-thumping, buzzing-with-adrenaline variety and they are not fun. They're not up to my level 10 yet (on a 1-10 scale) but they're certainly higher than normal and as a consequence I'm sleep deprived and I feel sick most of the time.

So here's where the cruel joke starts. Do you know what helps with anxiety? I mean really helps with it? Exercise. Not just any exercise, but exercise vigorous enough to increase the heart rate significantly. And I have to ask... why couldn't it have been chocolate? Or lying in a hammock? Or sitting on the beach?

Exercise. Honestly. Whose idea was that?
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I'm not here. Truly.

I know, I know, I said I was disappearing until the end of November... and yet here I am. Addicted? No way! Just enthusiastic. Yeah, that's it... enthusiastic.

I am, for those interested, nowhere near 50,000 words. I'm at about 17,000 now and with just over a week to go there's no way I'll reach the 50K goal. However, that's okay. I decided a while ago to forget the word goal and concentrate on the words themselves. That goes entirely against the spirit of NaNoWriMo but I don't care, because I've made some great discoveries. In the process of putting parts of my story together I am finding links I had never seen before. I'm developing an understanding of some things and starting to see the inherent sadness of other things. The entire process has been incredibly valuable, more than I ever anticipated, and that is worth a great deal more than the satisfaction of reaching a word goal.

The flipside of this, however, is that a whole lot of stuff is being churned up and I don't necessarily have the capacity to deal with it all at once. Of course I don't have to deal everything at the same time, but a lot of it is out there now and it's hard to unring a bell, you know? So I'm continuing to take things slowly... I'm still a hermit, I'm still minimising my online activity and I'm taking lots of breaks from writing when I think my body and mind need it. If I were listening to my counsellor I'd also be shunning junk food, eating more vegetables and doing plenty of exercise, but hey, one can't have everything. (Although... if I HAD listened to her advice about self-care then I might not have had those midnight anxiety attacks either so perhaps there's something in what she says...)

So this is where I'm at. And hey, who's sick to death of the interminable updates about Femina's mental health and counselling sessions? Yeah, me too... but like I said, this is where I'm at...
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In which Femina disappears...

...just for a fortnight.

It's been a big few weeks, and I think NaNoWriMo is taking its toll. It's been great in some ways... I'm loving forcing myself to write even when I don't feel like it and I like having a goal (although I am about 10,000 words behind where I should be by this stage) but it's been very intense and emotionally draining. Partly that's because I'm writing about a lot of things that I normally take one at a time - I'm talking about abuses that happened when I was growing up and how I felt about myself at the time; I'm reliving early counselling sessions with a counsellor who harmed more than she helped; I'm writing about depression and anxiety; and I'm talking about things I've learned and ways I've grown. It's all really great stuff but in order to get this material I'm reading old journal entries, emails and other things I've written over time. Reading the things I wrote when I was depressed made me very sad, and reading various emails I've written to my counsellor when I was in the middle of a dark place was not easy. Reading any journal entry I wrote when I was seeing my previous counsellor makes me sad and angry at the same time.

In addition to this fun-and-therapuetic-but-really-rather-draining writing I've also had a big couple of weeks. My new boss started two weeks ago and he's great - I think he'll be an excellent thing for the church and an excellent thing for us as a staff team - but we're all getting used to working together and that takes time, effort and energy. So far we're all working together well and I feel confident that will continue, but he's only just met us and we've only just met him. We're all still trying to get to know each other and to work out how we work best together. That's exhausting.

And to add one more thing to my already overflowing brain, I've just had a week where I was out every single night for one thing or another and to be blunt, I'm stuffed. Some of them were great things (including a fantastic birthday board-games-and-Indian-takeaway night last night) but still it takes its toll... and there's no respite yet because we have a women's ministry event coming up this Saturday and I'm one of the key people organising it. Yeah, well, it seemed like a good idea at the time...

Anyway, so this has all been a very long-winded way of saying that I'm going to be disappearing until the end of November. In truth I'll probably still read some blogs and I'll still be contactable on email for those who have my address but my intention (as in, those things with which the road to hell is paved) is to stick the phone on answering machine, refuse all social invitations unless it's a wedding or something, and stay off my computer as much as possible. Not sure how that's going to go since I may be a little bit addicted to Facebook but even halving my 'connectedness' will be a good start.

I need some quietness and contemplation and space. You'd think I already have that, since I live alone, but it's not the same thing. I need to retreat for a bit and live without a constant (self-inflicted) barrage of pictures and messages and sights and sounds and noise.

I may crack in three days, but I reckon it's worth a try. See you in a couple of weeks... and PLEASE remember to contact me if anything really juicy happens!
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"She's a rebel..."

"...and she never ever does what she should..."

I am officially a NaNoRebel. That's right, I've broken the rules. Happily there are a lot of us, hence the term 'NaNoRebel' rather than 'NaNoCheat'. I'm a rebel because I'm writing a memoir (albeit fictionalised) AND I'm using some previously written material. This is outside the NaNoWriMo guidelines... however, they're kind of okay with it and really just want people to write, so rebels are allowed so long as we admit that we're rebels. It's all good.

Current word count: 10,422. Still a bit behind but that's okay. And here's a tip I'll give you for nothing... a detailed description of a middle-of-the-night, off-the-scale anxiety attack is probably not something one should attempt to write at night, if one hopes to sleep at all. Apparently it's difficult to write about anxiety without feeling anxious. Huh. Well, lesson learned. It's also the only thing I've written so far that has made me cry.

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Word Count

6,240... slightly below the aim of 1,667 per day (which would put me at 6,668) but still not bad. Unfortunately the quality decreases as the word count goes up. Oh well.

Onward and upward. Writer's block, begone!
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NaNoWriMo - Day One

It doesn't bode well that I got to about 5pm on day one of National Novel Writing Month and thought, "Oh yeah... I'm meant to be writing."  As you can tell, I'm tremendously excited and couldn't wait to get started. :D

I've gone into this flying completely by the seat of my pants. I have no plans. I have no plot outline. I have no defined characters. I don't know what's going to happen or how it all ends. Ends? I'm not even sure how it starts.  Nevertheless, my word count is 1,784. You need to write 1,667 per day to make it to 50,000 by 30 November so I'm ahead. Where I'll be in a week from now, and what will be on the page, is anyone's guess... whatever you do, don't ask ME. I have no idea.

And no, I'm not uploading any of it.
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Signed away my sanity

I opened a new post to tell you all about signing away my sanity, only to discover that this is my 400th post. As my dad would say, wacky-do! (No, really. He would actually say that. In public and everything.)

This may be proof that in fact I had no sanity to sign away in the first place, but I have just signed up for NaNoWriMo. Yep, that's National Novel Writing Month, where the aim is to write a 50,000 word novel in November. That's WRITE a 50,000 word novel, not tweak a novel you've already written or finish a novel you've already started. You're supposed to start from scratch on November 1 and aim to finish by midnight (your local time) on November 30.  If you make it to 50,000 words by the deadline you can submit your novel to the website for an official word count and be declared a winner. (Everyone who finishes the word count is a winner. There are no actual prizes.)  Here's an excerpt from the website:

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.

So, this means I shall either abandon my blog in November, or I'll be blogging every single day as a method of writing procrastination.  Frankly, I have my doubts that I can do this and I feel sure I WILL write a lot of crap, but I don't care. I think it's going to be a hoot to give it a go... and as the website says, "Win or lose, you rock for even trying!"

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Insomnia (written at 2.46am)

Over the past year I've had insomnia quite a lot... and it's a weird feeling. If it happens enough I start to feel like I'm in a completely different universe. Whatever happened during the day ceases to have relevance; and day and night haunt each other, particularly when I'm half asleep and it becomes difficult to tell what is a dream and what is real. Sometimes I feel like I'm the only person in the world who's awake. Maybe I'm the only one alive - everything starts to feel a bit surreal and my entire world shrinks to the size of my mattress as I toss and turn and look at the clock. No time moves as slowly as time spent in a futile attempt to fall asleep.

A sleepless sigh is breathed out
to mingle with faltering echoes
of conscious thought.

Waking thoughts wander and dance
with dreams that long for sleep
to bear them life.

Treacle-slow night slumps silent
and immovable; and holds me captive
on my lonely island.

Being Christ to one another

Fragile soul
Battered heart
Aching wounds; a cry in the dark.
Rocky land
Blinding rain
Stumbling feet; a path of pain.

Fragile trust
Clouded sight
Guiding hand; shines His light.
Stormy land
Breath of air
Tender heart; a silent prayer.

Fragile faith
Tiny flame
Whispered hope; He knows my name.
Uncertain joy
Unknown land
Mustard seed; I take His hand.

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Book review - Writing as a Way of Healing

Currently I'm reading a book called Writing as a Way of Healing: how telling our stories transforms our lives, by Louise DeSalvo. Possibly I shouldn't review it yet as I'm not quite finished reading it but it's so good I couldn't wait to share it.

The book talks about writing (journalling, fiction, biographical narrative) as a way of working through trauma. The author is very careful to note that this should never be the only method; she strongly suggests that people should have good support structures in place, including counselling, when working through things. What I found very interesting about 'writing through pain' is this: studies have shown that not all forms of writing are beneficial and some may actually be slightly harmful. She draws heavily on the studies of psychologist James Pennebaker, who did a writing study with three groups of university students. He asked all three groups to write about a significant event that they'd never shared with anyone before. The first group was instructed to write only about the events; the second group was instructed to write only about their feelings; and the third group was instructed to write about what happened and the way they felt about what happened. Pennebaker found that the third group almost without exception reported that they believed writing about the events and their feelings helped them to resolve their feelings and work through the pain of the event. Additionally, the third group reported fewer visits to doctors and fewer illnesses after the writing task, while the second group, who wrote only about their feelings, reported more illnesses and medical visits.

DeSalvo gives good, practical advice in this book. The first section of the book is devoted to explaining the benefits of writing and explaining how to write in ways that are beneficial, including how to get started. That section was helpful because for some people the events are so traumatic that they don't feel able to write about it at all. The author addresses that and has good suggestions for how to write about other things that will lead slowly to the event in question, or how to write about other aspects of the trauma.

The second section of the book is practical advice about writing itself, including planning, writing every day even when you don't feel like it, writing without inspiration, and keeping a journal about the writing process. She debunks myths like the idea that books appear fully formed in a writer's head, that writing should only happen when one has a great idea, and that if writing is difficult it means you're not a real writer and should stop.

Readers of my private blog will know that I've been dealing with some significant issues in my personal life and I'm only a little way into the healing process. Obviously I've always found writing helpful (2 blogs and several journals on the go at the same time will testify to that) but writing in the way suggested in this book has been enormously helpful to me. Once I got started I couldn't stop and I can definitely see the difference between writing in this structured way and just pouring out my feelings. There's a place for pouring out feelings but ultimately it doesn't resolve things. The type of writing I've been doing while reading this book has been helping me begin to grieve, finally, some traumas that happened a long time ago. It's going to be a long process and I don't think writing alone should be the only method of healing (I definitely needed to debrief with my counsellor after some things) but I'm finding it an extremely beneficial addition to the mix of help I've been utilising.

You can check out the book here... although if you plan to buy it I would suggest searching on Bookfinder or AbeBooks for a cheaper copy.

The truth and the way (a monologue)

I remember the days when we were sure about truth, and we could stand proud on it. Although perhaps we were a little too proud, like they say. After all, where does that leave that very nice Hindu couple downstairs? And what about old Mrs Whatsit up at number 28? She claims to be an atheist... although still puts up fairy lights, regular as rain come beginning of December. The local kiddies love them. Well, we couldn't leave her out when it comes to truth being revealed and the dead rising.

Oh, there are still some areas where we wouldn't want to budge. God exists; we're sure on that one. And Jesus... of course, he's nice enough but you must admit he does say some awkward things. All that 'love your enemies' stuff - he never had to deal with the woman in front of me today taking 23 items through the express lane, did he? As for the rest... well, he doesn't actually use the word 'only', as in "I am the only truth", so I reckon those folks are right when they say he really meant "I am a truth". They've done the study, after all; I'm sure they know what they're talking about. It doesn't mean it's not true; it's just a more enlightened understanding of what true means. I guess it's a good thing, really, this modern understanding. I'm as modern as your next person... it wouldn't do to be left behind, would it?

Of course, I do question it all sometimes. I suppose it just shows that I'm not far enough along the path yet. I asked the local chap - young and earnest, big ears, slightly nervous around the suddenly helpful unmarried lasses - and he said that I needed to understand that there is no absolute truth; there are many truths. Something might be true for me but it isn't necessarily true for the other person. Taking this view, he says, means that we're no longer excluding anyone and we're making God's love accessible to everyone. Progressive thinking, he says. I suppose he's right. I do want everyone to know God's love. And of course I don't want people to miss out on the whole eternity-in-paradise bit. Well, who would? So it looks like this is the way forward now.

[pause]

You know, it's really funny how it all changes over time... because I remember there used to be another Way. The Way.

[pause]

Well.

I suppose I'm just silly and old-fashioned...

Shout-out to a famous poet

10 points* if you can name the poet... a further 10 points if you can name the poem I've ripped off here.

(*Disclaimer: the only thing you get for your points is the satisfaction of knowing you were right. Isn't that reward enough?)

O Tell Me The Truth About God

Some say God's a distant king
And some say he is here.
Some say he reigns in truth and love
And some say we should fear;
And when I asked the preacher-man
To tell me of the Lord
He stared at me in silence
And looked like he was bored.

Does he look like the sky in the morning?
Or a traffic jam on the road?
Will he speak to me while I'm yawning?
Will he help me carry my load?
Is he rough and spiky with anger?
Or will he smile and nod?
Does he live in an aeroplane hangar?
O tell me the truth about God.

The internet has sites on him
For anyone who looks.
His name appears quite often in
A multitude of books.
Some say he is dead and gone
With the confidence of youth;
Other people speak of him
As if they have the truth.

Does he cry and scream in frustration?
Does he speak to us in vain?
Does he take a yearly vacation
To Paris or to Spain?
Does he shop at the local grocer?
Does he prefer haddock or cod?
Will he truly let me come closer?
O tell me the truth about God.

I looked into a meeting hall;
I didn't see him there.
I tried to find him at the mall;
I tried the open air.
I don't know what the poets write
Or what the songs will say.
I thought I heard him in the night,
But wasn't sure by day.

Does he look into our faces?
Does he know what the future will bring?
Is he there in the darkest places?
Does he hear me when I sing?
Does he want me to give him my money?
Will I face a firing squad?
Does he think that my jokes are funny?
O tell me the truth about God.

When he comes, will he come without warning
As I'm mopping the kitchen floor?
Will he knock on my door in the morning
As I'm rushing out to the store?
Will he come like a change in the weather?
Will he think I'm pointless and odd?
Will he change my life altogether?
O tell me the truth about God.

Trying to write a paper...

Is it possible that attending a seminar on writer's block has given me writer's block??

100 words down... many, many more to go!

Edit:
Yay, it's finished! It's for an oral presentation, which I'll be doing today. I've followed the Law of Presentations - ie, it doesn't matter what the content is like so long as there are impressive Powerpoint slides.

Writer's block

I went to a seminar yesterday on overcoming writer's block when writing a thesis. It was quite useful - the seminar leader pointed out that writer's block is more about habit than ability - she said, "writer's block is the authorial equivalent of letting muscles go to waste, but 'exercise' can compensate for inspiration (or lack thereof)." The bit I really liked, though, was at the beginning where she put up a slide that said:

Your thesis should be...

• an opportunity to become passionately excited about your topic
• an opportunity to explore your topic in more depth than previously possible
• an opportunity to engage in independent scholarship
• an opportunity to become a grown-up - a bona fide academic!

We all nodded dubiously (clearly thinking "does everyone else in the room really feel excited about this?") until she put up the next slide:

...but all too often it is

• a super clean bedroom
• accumulation of several dress sizes
  
• adoption of various nasty habits
• perpetuation of facial blemishes
• an extended masterclass in whinging and procrastination

At that, we all nodded much more vigorously! It was actually good to know that everyone else there is feeling the same stresses and fears, and employing the same procrastination techniques for the same reasons. Anyway she gave us some excellent strategies to use... which will no doubt still be painful for a while since none of us has been doing the 'exercise', so to speak, but I reckon it will be good once I break through the pain barrier.