I'll start with the expected "New Year - looking back - looking forward - with a touch of sickening sentimentality" one. And then I promise I'll get back to autism! Some interesting things I've been thinking about to try and figure out enough to condense into bloggery... anyway...
As I have taken stock of my adventures with Brian during 2018 I have been pleasantly surprised by a few realisations. When I compare my current state with the Peggy of a year or a year and a half ago, I am experiencing things I never believed I would actually experience, and neither was I sure that I wanted to. Some of these changes have even come about in the space of the week or two that this post has been swimming in my mind, forming and reforming itself to keep up with my changing perspective.
A year ago I was working 50% of my full time job, only going in for half days and finding that something of a struggle. When I returned to full time I battled anxiety attacks most days at least once and spent an awful lot of time crying in bathrooms. This month I took my first day off sick and since September have only had two incidents at work that required support from others. Not a perfect clean record, but progress I could not dare to imagine a year ago.
Progress in recovery for my specific mental health condition (which I don't discuss on this platform) has flourished lately. The months and months of hard graft working for what I didn't believe I wanted is finally beginning to pay off. Sometimes I genuinely believe that getting "better" actually is better. Just the last week or so I have felt the first breaths of freedom from my disorder. I have hope of a life beyond: the life that I had wished I dared to believe in but couldn't risk.
I am learning to treat myself with compassion. To accept the days where I need to go at my own pace, not shower until lunch time, wear joggers and snuggle down with my pets. To be kind to myself when I “fail” or fall short of my perfect ideal. To turn down the social occasion without (with less…) guilt if I need to, to do what I can not what I think I “should.” To ask for space or time or explanation when I need it.
I am learning to participate in my own life, to risk making choices or allowing my preferences to show. To let the feelings happen. It hurts a lot. I chicken out very often. I don’t like it. I prefer the safety of numbing and ignoring the feelings with destructive behaviour. But I know it doesn’t work. I’ve tried it. It’s not sustainable, and it’s not the life I want to live.
To get this far I have had many months of therapy from a psychologist who has helped me understand myself, my “what”s and “why”s and how to help myself, and most importantly, shown me that I can and am allowed to help myself. Her consistent voice is beginning to counter that of the ED and tip the balance of whom I believe.
This being the NHS, our sessions are about to come to an end, and I am trying to take the lessons I have learned and allow myself to feel the fear and sadness that this brings. In some ways, I’ve only just begun to really be able to talk about the things that matter, and with another couple of months I could be better enough that I would be equipped to keep going. This lady has heard things I doubt I will ever utter to another breathing being (as well as enabling me to utter things to other breathing beings that I thought I never would utter!), and I have invested much into allowing her to help me. She has helped me a lot. I won’t see her any more, and all that knowledge will go away with her and I will be left with the understanding and skills she has shared, to go forward my own way. It’s a lonely, scary and sad prospect. I hope I will do her proud. And I hope that if I don’t, I will forgive myself, pick myself up and keep on trying.
And the wonder of the thing is that in just the few days since I wrote the last four paragraphs, I have grown in hope, in confidence of the possibility of that hope being fulfilled, and in assurance that I am on the right path and I want to be on it. I honestly didn't see this coming, and especially coming so quickly. To have that inner reassurance (and the amazing support of some stalwart Peggies rooting for me all the way) and strength before I finish my therapy is a completely unexpected gift that I couldn't be more thankful for. I'm under no illusion that I won't come across setbacks and crushing doubts as Brian fights back, but I know that freedom can exist on the other side and it is worth fighting for.
So here's to a year of stubbornly practising self-acceptance and self-compassion, exploring and enjoying the experience of allowing the stalwarts of Team Peggy to support me, and seeing how many breaths of freedom I can breathe.
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