If it is not broken

[Spideysenses]

I never had a "strong support network." Everyone around me rubbed salt into my wounds instead. Not that I needed help. Support is different. Support is: I am here for you. To listen. To encourage. To be a shoulder. I am on your side.
I did not need help. But when there is more riding against you, and there is not a supportive person backing you to rebalance the scales then the scales are going to tip to the against side. Crushed. I was crushed. I had done all I could with what I had at the time and it was not enough.

When I moved in with odd he did the same, rubbing salt, adding insult to injury, and turning from possessive to outright abusive and threatening. Reminding me of my failures. Reminding me of being in the hospital for a month. Wanting to be in control at all costs. Greed. My family. Odd. All for one. Every man for himself. The people in my life. Without support, a person is more prone to burnout. But no one person is ever born to have a breakdown. No one should resign themselves to feeling that way. I was working on overturning the inevitability. Having a breakdown is not wound into a person's genetic makeup. I had to believe that the pieces would fall into place when I found them, kept a hold of them and hoped I'd get the support I sought.

[Nanuq]

Originally Posted by Mr. Nobody

I'm not sure whether I'm a toenail nibbler, a Tory enabler, a toy embalmer, or a troy enactor.

It's such a conundrum, and has me perplexed,

I wonder if television is killing me,
Death by dots,
It's a strange death,..
You still appear to be alive,
You go to work, drive a car, eat food,
But,.. you are just a hollow husk inside

The gaudy colours and movement draw your attention,
But, at the same time, you are disconnected from life.

'death by dots'

Love the stuff you write

[Spideysenses]

An MP on the cost of living crisis: with the right cooking skills a nutritious meal for a family can be made costing thirty pence a day. So what will they eat? Potato and carrot soup with a slice of bread every night? Are they allowed margarine on the bread? Maybe throw some rice in the soup. Buy a chicken every fortnight? What about the energy for the cooker? A healthy diet is a varied diet. A person can't live off of a handful of staples. A child needs a range of vitamins and minerals to grow healthy and strong and escape poverty. This statement is condemning people to a life of poverty. This is impossible to ignore. Don't ignore political famine.

[Spideysenses]

I'd have had no rest. No chance to recover. I'd have been doomed. And my family couldn't care less back then. The grand kiddies have softened them up. But back then the loft was just belly ache. And if I stayed with them they would have expected me to do their housework AND my ailing gran's house and errands. Again. No rest. Not one minute rest. From frying pan to fire to frying pan and back to the fire.
He just wanted normal.
Saying that was as good as saying he wanted unbroken. I am neurotypical and dress "normally." Feminine.
Look I know my parents were (still were back then) p##sheads. But they paid my monthly fees for the gym. I paid when I was old enough. With my parents and grandparents, I got by. It was not a rose garden but I got by. I found outlets. I wasn't the one thrown out of karate. People tell me I am too nice. He didn't know what Ps and Qs were.
I chose to write. But I worked full time plus. I worked full-time while studying and writing. I didn't choose to be a victim. To be referred to VSS ( Victim Support Scotland). Healing and moving on went hand in hand with reporting the abuse. One counted on the other. If I didn't break down the elephant, it was going to kill me one way or another.

[Spideysenses]

Any ordinary person would not be blamed for having been mad when their grandparents passed away and everybody aside from them was left with assets or money. When their Grandfather gave to every charity under the sun. I wasn't mad that my spoilt cousins who barely knew they were living, one never phoned or rarely visited and swept like vultures to raid the flat when they'd already had a slice of the pie. I was the only one who would have been able to make a difference in their life...punished till the end ...

But my Grandfather did not need much convincing from my mum to give me the cold shoulder when I decided that higher education wasn't for me and I would never be a soldier if it was my last chance on earth. There'd be no photo of me on the mantlepiece with a green beret or a graduation mortarboard cap and gown. Family. History repeating. The rich need servants. Messed-up families need a scapegoat. How can it be less obvious? Let's aim for the dead certainty to go on to university and be a high flyer.

One month in hospital. Eighteen years old. Draconian conspiracy theories say destiny was to become a wreck. A ruin. A burden. A waste. Give to charity while I am expected to do everything alone. This was my punishment from my family. Who is in charge? Sometimes I swear I found something on the other side to help me when I had a breakdown. Why was I able to carry on with a renewed sense of calm and purpose? Something told me, that I had to bite my tongue until it bled and just swallow.

No sports career anymore. Up the spout. Back to the classroom filled me with dread and anger. All the people who had made me feel like I was not as smart as I was made out to be. Like I wasn't worth backing because I was poor or the way I looked. There was only ever one path out of hell for me. What was one more trial? After "thone place" the fear of gossip is not top of the list of worries. I didn't hurt anyone else. There was no law preventing me from working and gaining the career I should have been embarking on. I'd cross bridges when they arose. It was write or nothing.
When I crashed, I was numb and it was not always bad. A little moment of peace was heaven. But it was temporary. I couldn't change others' opinions then and I had a mountain to climb.

I didn't decide to be a writer because of a meltdown. I'd always been a writer in the making. I was convinced that it was better happening when it did than when I was established in a career. But if my life wasn't as repressed and tough as it was, I'd never have spun off so drastically. But when I looked at everything and everyone around me who'd treated me so disdainfully, it would have been a miracle if I hadn't needed to speak to someone at some point. It was better in rehab. Away from the people who made my life a misery.
The main doctor I had told my parents that I was someone they genuinely knew they could help (i.e. not "one of them"). They did say I was a genuine, person in need of help they could give. They knew I had reasons related to my life and they did try and get to the bottom of it. They found out that I was an athlete, a promising intelligent student and was working hard before the meltdown. So stress was the main contributor. I told them my parents were liars and were never there for me. I was believed. So when odd would threaten me, I knew he was clutching at straws. He did not like it when I gave him home truths. It was tiring. It was look up to the sky saying someone or something give me strength. I was swapping books and cutting out clothes and make-up for myself, saying to others that I had just moved house with odd. But it was all in an effort to try and save money and pay for as much as physically possible at the time to prevent him from losing his temper and turning more violent than he already was. It was my normal. Living on tenterhooks. And he did get worse.

[Mr. Nobody]

Originally Posted by Nanuq

Love the stuff you write

so, you'll be buying my new book then?

[Mr. Nobody]

He parked the van at the usual spot
and headed off for one last time down to the river,
It had been a long drive
and he was glad to be able to move about and take in the surrounding mountain views, the fields, the greenery,
just walking was a marvel, after sitting so long, tensed by the driving

and it was always very quiet on that little path beside the river,
despite this being such a popular place to stop off in the highlands,
the walk we always took was rarely used, apparently.
most people were too busy heading over to the large shops
making use of the free facilities usually,
but, I had my very own outdoor facilities,
the only onlookers being a few robust but disinterested looking sheep,
busy eating grass, only glancing his way for a moment,
The many aged trees lining the steep gorge seemed very varied,
you enjoyed taking in every gnarled branch and twisted trunk,
Your eyes delighted to be free of the glare of tarmac and traffic

The river never stopped flowing,
it welcomed you back, with it's shimmering stones of fools gold,
with it's dipper birds hopping from stone to stone,
the forever cheerful burbling of the water felt reassuring,
It was always here, forever moving, a reassuring constant,

You made your way carefully over to that large flat rock,
out from the bank's edge a little, but that made the air fresher,

Sitting there, the destination, the work,.... was miles away,
The busy road didn't detract from the serenity of the place,
this would always be here, whenever you wanted to come,

The distant fields were illuminated by a sharp ray of sunlight,
and beyond them the soaring heights of those mountains stood serene,
Those majestic, improbable mountains just stood there, immobile,
and you too, we're immobile, on that rock,
You shut your eyes and relaxed, tired from the drive,
but still alert, just soaking up the soft feel of heat from that shard of sun,
It was a welcome feel of nature, the sun soothing your shoulders,

It was pleasant being off the clock, away from the idea of work,

He opened his eyes again, now smiling gently,
he took in every rock, the water's edge, the jumbled rocks,
their mossy, lichen-patterned surfaces,
looking almost like works of art, ...the detail, the colour,
that faultless, interesting, easy pattern where the lichen had made its natural mark and rendered it forever interesting.

This was a fools paradise though,..he had work to do.

But there were still several hours of driving left, before you reached that sea view from the high hill,
we still had lots of wonderful, enchanting scenery to pass,
and the van had been working well, just eating up the miles.

with a withering sigh, he moved slowly off that rock and moved carefully back over that jumble of rocks and onto the grassy bank of the river,
some delicate flower was looking up at you,
alone amidst the grass and sand, an improbable but welcome blast of colour,
he wondered if this flower was rare, endangered even,..
it seemed quite a surprise to see it there, seemingly alone,
a singular shout of colour and delicacy, but thriving nontheless.

There was always something special here to take your interest,

He wandered slowly back up the lane towards that familiar view,
once again drinking in the views of that tree line,
unwilling to leave without taking in as much of the surroundings as he could.

Climbing that high stile, the inevitable end of the break, the farewell to his favourite resting spot around here,

Nature had revived him, and he was on his way, once again.

[Nanuq]

Originally Posted by Mr. Nobody

so, you'll be buying my new book then?

Of Course

[Nanuq]

I wrote a poem Mr Nobody, it's only little but I like it.

At the beginning
When you crawl through the eddies
and water pulls under your feet
and waves, made giant by lack of living,
blindside and choke

Who wouldn't want to be through
to the deep and calm
where the weight of life lived, under
holds you enough
to turn your face to the sun?

[Spideysenses]

.... than unfulfilled potential. No memoirist has ever been successfully sued. Take heed. Save face.
There is a gulf of knowledge. The doctors I saw were encouraging. However, family friend, had no right to label me and say that "everyone ...." It was not true. Many do not get their lives back. There are drug users who do not want to kick their lifestyle and habits. There are sorry souls there. But of all people, a health professional should have known that people from all walks of life need treatment. What about a mum with postpartum? That is not drugs. A trauma/abuse victim? A soldier with PTSD? A person bereaved who tried to take their life? A bullied or harassed person who takes an overdose?
It is not a drug rehabilitation centre. And we all know that drug addiction is often due to poverty and depression and not an inherent flaw or sickness. Addiction can become a debilitating sickness. But what drives a person to it, is often life-related. I have never taken drugs. I avoided the wrong crowds all my life so why would I fall into it? Why did these people with respectable jobs and positions who should have known better, want me to fail so badly? Not just fail, but suffer. Turn my own family against me even more. Tell an old flame to leave me. Do victims never recover?
I have a feeling that this family friend had an acid tongue and was trying to cause harm. They were the first to plant the seed in my impressionable parents. They moved.
The doctors know when they have a genuine victim. The ones I had did. I do realise that I may not have landed on my feet once and then twice at overdose. I have been believed all along. Now I had to believe in my cause.

[Spideysenses]

Childhood Friends. Collecting stories. I had a friend who said I didn't know how to whisper. Not true. Seeing two people with their heads together whispering about you while looking at you, I couldn't make someone else feel what that felt like. It was so childish to look at me when they were speaking about a client. I still needed my car if I were to go back to the other company.

[Spideysenses]

I don't owe anyone. I do feel lucky to live where I do. I am thankful to people who listened and believed me. I knew there alway's were people who believed me and in me. And I know that I let people down when I was young. I was young. I didn't have people to guide me in the right direction so I made many mistakes. I was not going to blame others for the rest of my life. But I didn't think that one month would remain a black cloud above me. That no matter what I did, how hard I worked, there'd be no change. No blue sky and sunlight. One month.

[Spideysenses]

Ward number thirteen. Let's forget how life-changing it is. I didn't think that someone would ask me if I was feeling OK ever again. From eighteen to twenty-four, I don't think there was someone who genuinely asked me if I was feeling OK. If I was upset about something. It is dehumanising. I am not including talking to a doctor. Then someone asked me on the phone and I didn't know what to say as I could not pinpoint the last time someone seemed to care about me and how I was doing. Really doing.
I don't blame anyone for not wanting to talk about mental health and the nitty gritty in case they trigger bad memories. I would have been glad just to have someone who knew I was under the weather. Sure at work or out and about visiting or so on in your free time, someone might just notice you are grumpy or not in the best of moods.
I just wanted someone in my personal life to care about me. I didn't need extra attention. I had no one who was emotionally available to me. No one had my best interests at heart. Before and after. When you don't get the effort back that you are pouring in, it is draining. I was not trying to make myself unwell. I was depleted from trying to survive day to day and gain answers.

We lie to protect people we care about in tough times. Odd and my parents were only interested in protecting themselves.
There are more people than we know who take time off for mental health, burnout and exhaustion. They lie as to why they are off sick or leaving. Because of the stigma. I couldn't hide my stay. I felt like I should have been given more privacy than I was granted in my home town. Or the chance to let sleeping dogs lie. I was being forced to leave. It felt inevitable. Leaving felt inevitable. One way or another it felt like everyone wanted me to leave. In a body bag if need be. I was not welcome. Go back to where you came from. Aye just go. Git. On ye go. Nae awa yet why nae?

[Spideysenses]

-If you can't afford to buy new gym shoes from me try looking in the discount in town

Odd: should have shut the corrupt b@$###d up by sayin yur dad was disabled, applyin for a blue card and not working anymore. That wid ov, taken the wind right oot of his sail

I would never do that. It wasn't about money. I was quitting anyway and easily could have bought slippers. He waited until there were well-off parents collecting their kids to humiliate me.

Odd: We ah (the troupe the posse) noticed that he picked on you. Picking on a quine. Pathetic. Scumbag.

He picked on a loon before he started on me. I got the privilege of being his next target victim. I know about his rep. His girlfriend was younger than me when they were first an item. High School age. He has a bad name higher up too, not just locally. He had a petition for chess, that everyone signed and then he harangued the top brass to get the job for himself. I know he has no scruples.

Odd: Speaks volumes about the c###. He slept with Spongeblobs ex-girlfriend and said he didna

When they were together?

Odd: Nut. But he's a connivin' sleekit c### . Widna trust im wi ma dog

Who drinks coca-cola in nightclubs and pubs and speaks to teenage women at his age?

[Spideysenses]

I always found creative outlets. How you deal with pain and anger matters. I didn't bottle up emotions and take the force out on someone else like Odd. Everyone needs support. I spoke to breathing space. Cried. Went for a jog when I could muster the energy. It was hard being so depleted that I could not enjoy what was around me. The beaches, the country roads, the mountains and hills to climb. I was caught up in trying to find a way out, a way to get away. To start afresh and have a chance. To heal. To live my life.

[Spideysenses]

Go ahead and dae creative writing and whatever the f### or make an art folder...someone like you will niver be anythin noo... you'll niver be a writer....whit makes you so special...hmm... dae it ....dae it... go ahead and dae it...it is a waste oh time....jist dae dae it...en quit bumping yurr gums...dae it...

Portfolio. So this is your reverse psychology again. You need to tell me what "someone like me" means to you. What you mean by it. Not what someone else has said or gossiped about. What do you specifically mean by it?

Specifically? Big words for a woo-man like you (he laughs)

This is going nowhere . It is the same broken record. You do realise that I could have taken all of the sciences at GCSE and A-levels - Chemistry, Biology and Physics? That I [chose art and writing and] had to work to pay for my sport? And why on earth do you say woo space and then -man? I am sick of it. I would say either call me by name or don't talk to me but it is already easier getting blood from a stone. We are never going to last at this rate.

He snorts. Blanks and ignores me

[Seagull]

Originally Posted by Spideysenses

This is going nowhere . It is the same broken record.

Spidey!!!!!!!!!

[Spideysenses]

Some people prefer to stay blissfully ignorant. I realise that knowing the reasons is different from not agreeing with the reasons or taking a stand against the reasons that are ...

[Spideysenses]

End of my wallowing.
Let's continue with the cost of living crisis.

"If people are struggling they should take on more hours or move to a better-paid job."

I can hear thousands of people screaming: it's not that easy! Could they be any more condescending if they tried?
I have taken on a second job in the past and I was taxed to the hilt on my second job. The tax on a second job is astronomical. It wasn't worth it. When I left school I had to apply to one company over and over again, just to get an interview and still, my contract was only part-time. Luckily being one of the largest outlets in the country there was oodles of overtime and holiday cover so I always worked full time every week. One of the largest companies in the country and only the managers and night shift staff have full-time contracts.
I did well in exams and spent my nights helping out at a gym every night and I still couldn't get my foot in the door anywhere. I'd spent my life trying hard so I could make a life for myself and it felt beyond futile. It is who you know and not what you know or how hard you can work.

Take on more hours say the MP. For a woman who often works in care or retail, it is difficult enough to get over thirty hours every single week. The tax on a second job is there to deter people from being greedy. It ends up penalising hard-working people. Two part-time jobs won't equal a full-time position take home pay after tax. Plain as day.

[Spideysenses]

Originally Posted by Seagull

Spidey!!!!!!!!!

Point taken.
From here on in it is the current cost of living crisis.

[Spideysenses]

It wasn't me who ruined the wedding footage. I was a four or five-year-old child. Alki auld biddy grannee told me the whole story. My long-estranged father ruined his nephew's big day by upsetting me and winding me up. Who else would it have been? OK so not ruined but he spoiled it from going smoothly. That car didn't run smoothly. I tried to warn my parents, that it was only fit to be scrap metal and not to give it to anyone. Do you think they listened? Or are you laughing? Some people will do anything for a quick buck. I had to quit my job because of it. Odd wanted that to happen. Crystal.
I had nowhere safe to go back to. The only way was forward. It was the only escape for me. If I was not a writer. But I am. A mile in my shoes. My life. The people who had failed me. I was made to feel like the failure. No, I had been failed by others.

[Mr. Nobody]

Mike Myer pee'd in the fire,
the fire was too hot, so he pee'd in the pot,
the pot was too wee, so pee'd in the sea,
the sea was too wide, so pee'd in the clyde,
....and all the fish went up his back-side.

[ Scottish: Anon. circa 1879 ]

[Spideysenses]

*Not my post or poem above lol. I would never leave anyone without a pot to..

[Spideysenses]

I'm not being dramatic when I say that for my entire life, I've barely gone a day without thinking: I am not good enough and never will be. As a youth, I was very intelligent and a little shy. I was forever fed messages that unless I learned how to not be shy then... then? So at fifteen when the bipolar reared its ugly head, I found that I was no longer shy. But being a teenager is hard. And body image is hard for most young women. I didn't escape unscathed but I found my way around it by concentrating on the positives. I didn't ignore it completely. I was comfortable enough in my own skin to work through the knocks. But I could only take so much.
My home life was not great. Not at all for me. Finding a creative outlet was essential. It was about survival. My mind needed it as a coping tool then.
At eighteen my stepdad was a coward reacting the way he did. My parents were trying to protect their own skins at all costs and as well as signed my death certificate. Me talking was what they were trying to avoid. They would have told everyone that I was the liar. So I couldn't talk if I wanted to. Gangster granny and gangster grandad. Between them and unscrupulous along with old teachers and the sway towards conspiracy theories and the draconian stigma, and friends who were too young to worry and had their own baggage, I didn't have many places to turn. So luckily at eighteen and overdosing, I had sympathetic help at the crisis point. If not, I don't know If I'd have been able to carry on. Give up or write.

[Spideysenses]

Yet I stayed. Here. Hoping to break the elephant down. Knowing that running wasn't the answer. Knowing.
One day I would look back and the meltdown would be nothing but a tiny speck on the horizon. In my hometown, that seemed like naive hope. Reminders. Reminders. Ghosts. The dragon in the room. A month in the hospital did not need to happen. The stigma and my life were the reasons. Bad luck with my career options. What is done is done? Big enough and ugly enough to look after oneself. Out of sight, out of mind.

I should have left the first time he said: "I've been thinking." Dramatic pause. "You need help." I did not feel like I had the choice to leave, after. After one month. Resent. You need help. You'll never. At least you can say you were good at something at one point in your life. Your pathetic excuse for a job. You need help. It's you. No hoper. Unfixable. It stung the minute he said it because he really had been preparing to say something that would strike where it hurt. That is what he spent his time thinking about. How to get above and control others. Trying to use me as target practice with his taunts, threats of physical violence, manipulation, cruel derision and belittling emotional attacks. Psychological mind games are violent and abusive. Never clever or unconsciously accidental. It was intentional.
He chose to use violence to get what he wanted. Should I take solace in the knowledge that the games damage the perpetrator as well as their target? All my suggestions were thrown back in my face. Stop trying to cower away in fear.
What I needed was what he or my family were never willing or able to give. Time and space to get back to the old me. To get my life back. To realise that I was worthy of respect and more.
The elephant had to be dealt with. So why did he feed it? That was beyond cruel. It was sadistic. The elephant would remain as long as I remained with a person hellbent on knocking me down and keeping me down. Everything was tied to the elephant and it would pull me to the depths if I didn't act and I have never wanted to die. The elephant or me. And not everyone thought it was possible to tear down a malevolent wilder beast. I will not ever wake up sleeping dogs. Cyberspace will swallow my life story like a black hole. For that I am glad.

[Seagull]

The End

[Seagull]

End

[Nanuq]

That must have taken ages to write out?
Do you not have netflix or something to pass the time if you feel bored?

[Nanuq]

I see you deleted the last post, spideysenses.
Are you ok?
If you are struggling there's people to reach out to here and to connect with and who have also been through trauma.
Most people here have had terrible times too.
Trying to do everything alone to prove yourself to the world is a trauma response.
People heal better when they start to trust that not everyone is as bad as the people they already had the misfortune to be around.

[Nanuq]

Good you know that there's help available when you feel ready for it