Monthly Archives: July 2017

Resilience begins with owning your vulnerability – we’re all only human after all! How I got to near breaking point.

penny robertsThis is a client’s story of courage and recovery.

I always thought and was told that I was a good planner, super organised and focused. My nickname at uni was Miss Organisation and I’ve built a career in Operations a perfect fit right..?

Last year I went through a massive personal upheaval that resulted in me losing perspective and left me wondering what the hell was I doing with my life and whether I’d got it all wrong.

This period of feeling out of control and lost started in March. A stolen purse – six years living in London and the laws of averages meant it was bound to happen to me – there’s a first time for everything… right?

Then after this came the night I left another purse and all my newly replaced cards in an Uber… never to be found. Then it was a stolen rucksack and more personal and work possessions in someone else’s hands a month later. And finally leaving another purse on a train – which even the cleaners couldn’t find!

The icing on the cake was a lost train ticket, when I had no cash and cards – I was still waiting to get new cards after I lost my purse the last time – and nearly being stranded in the city.

Until this point I had NEVER lost anything in my 29 years on this planet. The universe was seriously telling me something – stop, slow down, relax!

The irony is I’d actually been doing that albeit not consciously. At times I had felt like I was nearly paralysed by the massive upheaval that had occurred in my life but I was still acting and carrying on as normal. I was out of tune with my mental wellbeing – I needed to get back in tune!

The truth

So here’s the brutal honesty that with time, my friends, family and my therapist helped me come to terms with. I was numb / out of touch with my emotions. I was grieving for a broken marriage and selling my home – losing the life I’d spent my adult years building. I was feeling totally ashamed of how things have turned out for me at the grand old age of 29 and hiding how I truly felt.

This was not how I thought my life would turn out – but had you asked me what I thought my life would be like I couldn’t have articulated it to you. I knew I wasn’t the first person to go through this – and I sure as hell knew I wasn’t going to be the last but honestly that didn’t help me at the time.

Where to begin…

It’s tough – bloody tough admitting when you’ve not got your shit together. I felt like I was losing face by admitting I had depression – I was ashamed. If I could have hibernated at this point I would have!

What I very gradually realised over time though was that the more I talked about my depression the more I normalised it for me. I felt like I was building my own understanding of what I was going through – the tears lessened as I gained courage.

My work, friends, family and therapist were all supportive. I’ve consciously chosen to write my support network in this order – from personally who I thought would be hardest to talk to, to easiest to talk to- as I am shocked by how even conversations I thought would be tough weren’t as bad as I envisaged.

If you don’t own your vulnerability in all sectors of your life then you won’t build your resilience and support network. I was, and am, blessed with an amazing support network. Having just started a new job when this all “went down” it could have resulted in a sudden ending but it didn’t! They listened, were accommodating and genuinely cared.

Stability with my work routine was important for me and gave me a weekly focus. My friends showed me bucket loads of compassion and were there for me even when I didn’t know how to articulate how I felt. My family were beyond amazing – they helped me focus on the joy of the now (beach trips and time with my nephews spring to mind in particular) as well as planning for fun times ahead.

I’m writing this post from Chile – a dream two week adventure by myself that during dark times I thought I might not have the courage to do. What a difference a year makes!

Small steps lead to big rewards. Honesty and open communications breeds positive changes and inspiration from sometimes the strangest of places and experiences!

2017 is my year of fun! A year for me to own to positively take steps to create the life I deserve. 2016 helped me understand the challenges and heartbreak that life can throw at you from time to time. The lessons from 2016 have helped me become more resillient they’ve made me stronger and aware of how important it is to look after my mental health just as much as I look after my physical health.

I truly believe that to experience life’s true highs sometimes you need to experience it’s lows. And to really get the learnings and build resilience from such experiences you need to own them and get used to being vulnerable – it’s tough but it can be done!

The afterword

Writing and reflecting on my experience of depression briefly makes it seem a hell of a lot calmer than the turbulent time I went through. For me a combination of medical and therapeutic support has worked. Everyone is different and experiences are personal. The commonality in finding a path out is human connection – everything starts by talking and being vulnerable….

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The Ups and Downs of Therapy; a client’s story

The thing I liked about my therapist when we first met was that she seemed different from me – the last thing I wanted was to talk to someone similar. The relationship would be different from anything I had experienced: it was the first time I had discussed my life intimately with another person.

 

The idea of ‘difference’ became the key to approaching therapy. Sessions were an opportunity to experiment with different ways of thinking, without relying on reason or analysis. Instead, I would talk about whatever popped into my head at the time – no matter how irrelevant it seemed – and see where it led.

 

My first fear was that I would sabotage therapy, probably by convincing myself that it had been going on too long. To counter this, rule number one was that there would be no time-limit: if it took years, it took years and I wouldn’t leave until it felt good to do so.

 

The second fear was that I would develop an attachment to my therapist that would become painful, so the boundaries of the relationship were very important. I determined not to cross these boundaries under any circumstances: no contact between sessions, no trying to discover personal information. The therapy room would become a bubble, although, as I later discovered, there was a downside to this.

 

As therapy progressed, the word ‘instinct’ kept cropping up, and I began to realise how powerful the unconscious mind is, and that it is often right. Understanding my past behaviour in this context – that a lot of it was actually self-preservation – was a huge relief. I began to trust my instinct more as a guide through the process.

 

Self-expression was surprisingly hard. I found the spoken word incredibly limiting and the habit of editing myself as I went along didn’t help. A lot of the time it felt as if I was talking around a feeling, but couldn’t be completely accurate – I just didn’t have the language. Images were very helpful in this respect. If I couldn’t describe a feeling I would imagine it as a scene or a story and describe that instead. In fact, the further away we got from the literal, and the closer we got to symbols, stories and art, the more satisfying and truthful the conversations felt.

 

Going to therapy for a long period, it was inevitable that some subjects would be discussed many times. This wasn’t a problem, but I was aware that each time we repeated a subject, I would describe a set of feelings that were different to what I had said before. Thankfully my therapist didn’t point this out, although I have no doubt that she noticed the contradiction. The question is, why did this happen when I was trying to be honest? The best answer I can come up with is that I was just saying what needed to be said on that particular day. This pattern of repetition/contradiction did lead to some answers that you could call ‘truth’,  but the answers seemed less important than the process of finding them.

 

One of the more unnerving sensations was the feeling that life was on hold. In the midst of the therapy bubble, most of my time was spent looking forward to the next session or thinking about the previous one. The outside world felt less important. If it had ended at this point I suspect it would have been pretty devastating and knowing that I was dependent made me nervous. It was a leap of faith to trust that one day I would feel differently. Until then, the frequency of the sessions gave me enough security to keep going.

 

But the relationship between therapy and my life in the outside world was something I struggled with. Whenever we discussed making a change, I had all the reasons not to do it. This inability to connect therapy and life felt frustrating at the time. Looking back, I probably didn’t realise how much was shifting around in my unconscious. Every so often change would rise to the surface and I would suddenly decide to do something completely out of character. Eventually I learnt that I didn’t have to force the change to happen, I just had to be open to it.

 

I think one of the great misconceptions about therapy is that it’s all about the moment of catharsis. That the right question will lead to a huge outpouring of emotion and then everything will be better. I never had that experience – therapy was more complicated and difficult than that, but also more rewarding. I certainly don’t think of it as getting things out of my system: I have more in my system now than when I started.

 

The decision to stop was surprisingly easy. It just felt right. Life wasn’t perfect but I had the strength to deal with it. As the end approached I knew how important it was to end well, to walk out the door without regret.

 

People who know me well say the change has been enormous. They are probably right, but it’s a difficult thing to see objectively. Superficially, life hasn’t changed that much, but there has been a fundamental shift in how I react to things. My stress and anxiety levels are certainly much lower, I’ve become more open to taking risks, and more patient with other people.

 

My life now is messier, dirtier, happier, angrier, faster, less predictable and more confusing than it has ever been. For the first time it feels like there aren’t enough hours in the day for everything I want to do. But I do what I can and don’t worry about the rest. So far that seems to be working.

 

Written anonymously by a client in 2015

The Psychology of Violent Extremism

Since the last newsletter where violent extremism was discussed, there have been a number of further acts of violence within the UK.  Thinking about what drives people to engage in such behaviour has become more pertinent.  Dr Hannah FarrAlongside this it also feels important that we think about how we talk to our young people about these acts, especially after the suicide bomber at the Ariana Grande concert, where many young people were involved.  At the end of this piece I will provide details outlining where to find information on trauma, how to support people who have been through a traumatic experience and how to talk to young people about what has been happening in their world.  However, I want to start by presenting some of the psychological research which has tried to develop a profile of someone who becomes involved in extremism.

Psychological research into those who carry out acts of violent extremism has been somewhat minimal to date.  However, there are some characteristics which have been identified and provide us with some insight into what drives a person to join these groups.  It is suggested that those young men (I will focus on men here as they are the majority in these groups) who feel marginalised and unrepresented in places of authority e.g. the government, and who perceive an injustice are more likely to join an extremist group.  They appear to be searching for a sense of belonging, connectedness and affiliation (Silke, 2008), which they don’t feel they get elsewhere in society or their community.  It is suggested that they feel uncertain about themselves and their world (Bonim, 2014) and seek danger and excitement as a way of giving their life meaning.  They feel they are unable to make changes in any other way than through extreme and unconventional means (Saucier et al., 2009).  They believe they represent a broader victimised group who need someone to stand up for them (Horgan, 2017).  Motivation, ideology and social process all come together to play a role in the radicalisation of men who join extremist groups.  Understanding this interplay is the first step towards developing policies to intervene (Kruglanski et al., 2014), it may also be important for society to understand and play a role in expressing concerns about possible extremism in their communities.

How communities can play a role in expressing concerns about suspicious behaviour has also been an ongoing discussion especially after an attack.  Dando (2017) stated that when it comes to ‘pointing the finger at a neighbour or friend’ when they are suspicious of their values/beliefs/behaviour the impact may be too great.  She considers the impact of a reduction in community police officers, as it may be that a rapport between communities and police could encourage people to have more of the difficult conversations.  ‘When people feel socially and economically excluded, and when groups feel marginalised they tend to look inwards rather than outwards’.

Violent extremism effects us all, either directly as a victim or family/friend member of a victim; even as a family member/friend of the perpetrator; as an observer and member of a community or as a parent (carer) trying to explain to a child what is happening in their world, whilst trying to make sense of it yourself.  These experiences are traumatic and leave us with questions and difficult emotions, so I have attached some links to websites which may help to provide some support.

By: Dr Hannah Farr, Clinical Psychologist
July 2017

Dr Hannah Farr works at Wendy Bramham Therapy on Thursday mornings in Marlborough.

Links

http://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/2016/03/23/how-to-talk-to-children-about-terrorism_n_8580612.html

  • Helping children understand their responses to difficult news stories

http://www.bbc.co.uk/newsround/13865002