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The two main hazards of psychoanalysis: that it might fail, and that if it succeeds, you'll never be able to forgive yourself for all those wasted years.
Mignon McLaughlin

This afternoon I cry, I just can't help it. I am sitting in our yard trying to enjoy the last remnants of summer - if enjoy is a word I can really use with any real meaning. I should perhaps say I am trying to enjoy or at least appear to be enjoying the last of summer. I cry that I am aging; that my life has passed me by; I cry that I am so ill that I cannot enjoy what remains of my life because of my OCD and all the other illnesses; I cry for I fear the misery which will inevitably be part of my future and I cry for the loss of my life and my inability now to do anything about it. I cry for the seemingly hopeless situation of my son. I know I should not cry as such will bring back a headache or another migraine. Mostly I struggle to resist the urge to cry but today I cannot.

I am now ashamed to admit to my crying and all my complaining here. The recent suffering of thousands in New Orleans and the tragedy in Iraq when a thousand pilgrims died and the continuing suffering of millions starving in Africa makes me so ashamed to be so into my own pain. The misery of suffering in the world compared to mine is overwhelming and I should get some perspective but no the suffering of others compounds my own and I feel so guilty. Yet in addition to my own misery I feel so overwhelmed with the suffering of the world and as I write now I have to fight off more tears yet again as I cannot easily dismiss the awareness I have concerning the suffering of all beings. Life is so full of suffering and I wonder how on earth anyone one copes with such unimaginable circumstances that occur on a daily basis. My heart goes out to all creatures who suffer. My own suffering seems great, yet in comparison to the suffering that fills the world right now it is nothing. I am greatly affected by universal suffering and it is one of the reasons that I am chronically depressed. How can I not be depressed, how can one be happy really and truly happy when others suffer?

September 5th

Another migraine greets me in this morning as soon as I woke - well no actually that is not quite correct. I had it in my dream, in my dream I had a severe headache and like reality I was attempting to ascertain if it was a migraine. The context and the images of my dreams have faded except for the knowledge that I had a severe headache and yes in my dream the pain was real just like migraine in waking life. I do not know if this happens to other people I imagine that it must do. It is sickeningly depressing to face this again the next day but after yesterday’s crying episode I am not at all surprised as often a headache or migraine will follow the next day. So crying is one of so many things in my life that I cannot do without suffering dreadful consequences.

I go downstairs to fill the kettle for a hot water bottle. Yes I will wake my husband I know it seems selfish but it is not easy to face so much alone. A note on the worktop left by my son tells me there is a slug in the washing up bowl. It has gone now but where has it been? It is bad enough that it has been in my washing up bowl but it could have been anywhere: on the worktop, the draining board, in the sink on the crockery in fact anywhere! My heart sinks as soon for as my headaches has been alleviated I will find myself in the throes of an OCD panic. I cannot trust either my husband or son to clean the bowl, the crockery that was in it and on the draining board, the work surfaces or sink adequately so I have to do it and right after a migraine. I really am becoming increasing more depressed by my situation.

After the headache had subsided, it was most probably a migraine but the tension headache which accompanied it of course still remains, I have to face the task at hand. I scrub the bowel with scouring cream, scold it with boiling water, wipe it with alcohol (I can’t use disinfectant as I think it might be poisonous and also a hazard to the environment) than I just let the tap run into the bowl so that it overflows with cold water for ten twenty minutes or more. This doesn’t relieve the anxiety much at all and I wipe it out again and scold it again and run the water some more. As always I feel guilty about running so much water despite the copious amounts of rain we have here although not the amounts we once had. I now had to scrub and scold the draining board and sink and all the crockery and cutlery that was drying on the draining rack and crockery which was unwashed. The slug must have found its way into the bowl from somewhere but not knowing the route of the slug I have to wash the entire worktop, scold and wipe down with more alcohol, the kitchen smelled like brewery. I did it in a state of relative calm, perhaps I am resigned to this way of life but feeling sad that just lately I am finding myself regretting more and more the waste of my life as I become more depressed that nothing really is going to change for me now at my age. There seems little left for me to try and it is one thing after another just lately and I do not know what I can do to stem the tide of my OCD. So many obsessions are now so obscure and are complex and difficult for me to explain to you or to anyone else, and without being able to do this I doubt I will ever be free or even relieved of some of the more inhibiting obsessions and compulsions.

Today I have to go out, It could have been an enjoyable trip, the weather again was warm , perhaps rather too warm but nonetheless the kind of weather that should make you appreciate your life but no not when you have OCD.

I know it should have been enjoyable if I was not haunted by the fear of death all the time. Yes maybe I have not made that clear on some occasions here although in my memoir I
have - at least I hope so. My OCD is driven and given great momentum for the most part by my fear of death; the fear of it occurring to not only myself but to others, but not only people I love and care about but also strangers and also animals. For instance I worry about germs and have to decontaminate should I inadvertently pass on contagion to someone else, most of my religious scrupulosity concerns superstitious anxieties that doing the wrong thing will cause harm in some way or another to others, even bringing about the death of another. All but a very few of my obsessions and compulsions are carried out because of my fears of causing harm to either a person or an animal. As I have mentioned before my anxieties about throwing away certain items in the bin such as empty bottle of cleaning materials or hair colour is due to concern that animals foraging about in the garbage tip will be harmed by such toxic substances.

Moreover morbid thoughts haunt me. My life reminds me of that awful feeling you can get on Sunday when you do not enjoy this day because the thought of having to return to school or work or some other unpleasant but duty bound obligation preoccupies your thoughts and detracts from your enjoyment. For me this is how my life feels as rather like Sunday I cannot enjoy my life because I know that I am going to die. These thoughts haunt me and not just now and again either as such thoughts haunt everyone. No these thoughts have been there throughout my life over and over again and again throughout the day. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times each hour, each minute that such thoughts return, I have never counted them but I can safely say the fearful thought of death is in one way or another always in the background following on the wake of another thought whilst giving rise to yet another thought. Most actions I undertake are driven by my fears and are the result of such morbid thoughts and ruminations , it is now so common place that I cannot image what my life would be like for without this dreadful companionship of morbid misery. So basically I cannot enjoy my life because of my fear of death. Morbid I know but these thoughts are OCD thoughts, they are unwanted and intrusive and they have took away my life and now as I grow older they are of course becoming more dominant. Today the sun shines but I cannot shake off my fears, or stop worrying about my son, or stop compiling with all my obsessions and compulsions, no not once not ever and not just because the day is warm or its a holiday or its Christmas or because its inconvenient for someone else or whatever. You would be surprised to realise how often people expect you to set aside your problems on certain days, under certain inconvenient circumstances but no sadly this is not the case. No matter what they never leave me alone.

Today my life is just awful and somehow the sunny warm weather accentuates this fact, the fact that I am not like others and I will never will be and I try go about my life as though I am to the best of my ability but inside I enjoy so little. I know I could, I can feel it inside as though deep down underneath all the OCD and all the other misery there is the potential to be happy or least satisfied for some of the time as of course no one’s life is full of happiness. Most people suffer in some way or another even if it is not the twenty four seven torment of OCD.
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Today to add to the mix, if not suffering from a migraine and the remains of a tension headache where not enough, my IBS is just awful, this necessitates frequent use of the toilet a real performance of covering the seat with tissue, using tissue to lock the door, to flush the toilet, to open the door. The use of tissue prevents my hand from coming into contact with areas of the toilet cubicle, such as the lock, that I would feel where contaminated, as these areas will have been touched by previous users who will have of course not washed their hands. Furthermore I have some really crazy obsessions and compulsions here of which you might be surprised if you are looking at OCD in a stereotypical fashion. Now when I make “paper nests” (a term I found on a blog made my someone complaining of people with OCD leaving “paper nests” on the toilet seat and not removing them) on the seat to avoid becoming contaminated occasionally a piece of paper falls to the floor. I now panic that I have contaminated the floor with the toilet seat which has been next to the paper. Here is a good example of an OCD chain reaction. The paper contaminated by the seat falls to the floor, the floor is now contaminated even though I pick up the paper and lush it away; another person enters the toilet, walks on this exact spot where the paper fell, the contamination is now on her shoes thereafter everywhere this person walks the contamination is spread. A big and fearful responsibility and I feel I will be punished in some way by something awful happening to some one I care about and furthermore I also worry that the contamination will be
spread .... well practically anywhere and everywhere! This fear is so strong and sometimes a scenario of disaster will present in my mind with a particular person, on particular day, time, circumstance and so on. Sometimes I try to cancel it out by swearing the type of oaths mentioned in my memoir and My story but usually the first fear is worse and is not migrated or cancelled out. What do I do? I lurk about waiting until no one else is in the toilet than using tissue I wash the place were the tissue has fallen the best that I can with a tissue soaked in water. I cannot use soap as you might think as this presents another harmful consequence arsing. I fear, as bizarre as this seems writing it here, that the soap will interact with whatever the cleaner uses to clean the floor, a chemical reaction of some kind with toxic fumes and than someone will be harmed. Crazy? Yes I know it is and when I sit here now writing when I am not affected by it and not in the throes of this particular OCD misery I gain a more rational perspective. Yes it is indeed harmful to mix certain cleaning materials but in the minute amounts here…….. Just writing that here causes some serious doubts and now once again as I do in such situations the fear comes to me that even mixing in such minute amounts could cause harm even though one of the components is simple liquid soap. I am tempted not to include this idiotic behaviour here for anyone and everyone to read. It's embarrassing !!!!!!!! Yet when I am there and in the grip of such OCD thoughts it all seems too real and I cannot ignore these bizarre thoughts that ignite the compulsions that take away my life and make it a living hell.

I have awful IBS to day and this means I am in and out of the toilet and this silly ritual occurs upon several occasions despite the extreme care that I take not to allow paper to fall on the floor. A similar ritual occurs if I have the notion that I have accidentally contaminated the seat because the paper has slipped off onto the floor or into the toilet. This one is worse I guess as I have to wash the seat in a similar manner as I did the flour and for similar reasons and that of course presents other contamination anxieties. It is bad enough wouldn’t you think to have these contamination fears and having by necessity to need to use public toilets without all these strange compulsions adding their perverse momentum. The more usual contamination concerns are of course present when using a public toilet, the familiar ones such as getting out without touching the main door as I know a lot of people do not bother to wash their hands. And than there is the contaminated tap washing session, which I have mentioned in a previous entry I am sure, where I wash my hands than rinse the tap and wash my hands again; the logic behind that I hope is obvious as this is getting a rather lengthy entry and I do not want to bore you with every infinite detail, particularly when I have already done so.

Today was quite pleasant day notwithstanding the misery of numerous trips to the toilet and the stressful rituals that this entails and other anxieties far too many to mention and now such a part of my life that I could not begin to recall them all if I tried,. We visited Belsay Hall, Castle and Gardens in Northumberland a property belonging to English heritage. This magnificent manor house albeit empty was fascinating to walk round. In some ways it was more interesting to see such a house as this completely empty as it gave you an idea just how huge these places are. I could not help thinking how wonderful to have all that space to put our clutter, silly I know but if you think about it my hoarding and cluttering OCD would not be such a problem with such a huge amount of space – not the answer I know and of course not a possibility either.

The property also consisted of a ruined castle and magnificent and unusual gardens with exotic and rare plants from all over the world. The garden has been planted in an abandoned quarry from which stone had been taken to build the castle. Here are some photos which will give you an idea how pleasant this garden is. It is a real treat to be somewhere where all you can here are the songs of birds and the rustle of the wind.

Click on thumb nail to view larger picture

Belsey Gardens	Belsey Gardens

Belsay Gardens	Belsay Pond

Belsay Castle	Belsay Hall

September 7th

I am so tired today and so angry rather like the character in the film Crash who is angry all the time from the moment she wakes until she goes to bed. Today however my anger is most certainly justified: I have had the total of only two hours of sleep. The factory in our village is now working twenty-four hours each day and even on Sunday morning. Now do not be mistaken, this is not a country village in the idyllic sense of the word with quiet country lanes, thatched cottages, with birds singing along with other peaceful and natural sounds of the country and little traffic that my be conjured up in the mind, particularly by people from elsewhere in the world. No it most certainly is far from idyllic or peaceful. A main A road cuts right thought the village but more importantly there is this factory, it is not a small local business by any means it employs two hundred plus people and it is now making a noise all day, there is no respite and the noise last night was shocking, loud thumping and than the constant dome - well more a whining noise - of machinery throughout the entire night. At night they appear to make more noise than during the day! I can’t say I notice it much in the daytime except if I open a window. I know I am very highly sensitive to noise, both low and high frequency but more particularly low frequency which I can neither get used to nor block out as is the case with high frequency noise in some circumstances such as noise at the cinema or similar - I can go to the cinema on most occasions although recently this has not been easy as either they are turning up the volume or my sensitivity is becoming more acute.

 Moreover concerning the factory I have no recourse to action whatsoever other than complain to the manager, a very pleasant man who has made some considerable effort to stop the low frequency hum emanating from a machine that is operating twenty four seven. Nonetheless he will or can do nothing about the noise which carries on all night. The local authority responsible for environmental noise pollution will do nothing, the sound is apparently within the criteria set by the world health organisation WHO and is considered not to be a health hazard. This rather depends on your perspective, it is most certainly psychologically damaging and it has done much to aid my deterioration since we moved here. I wonder if whoever sets these rules would like to sleep in my bedroom at night. The WHO Criteria concerning noise nuisance is in any case measured in decibels and you cannot measure low frequency noise in decibels. Volume has nothing to do with the torture inflicted by low frequency noise, noise that is emanated as a monotonous sound like one continuous note of music. However at the time of writing the low frequency noise seems to not the problem if once was, if I dare to tempt fate by saying this. In any case it would be drowned out by the noise of night time machinery. Last night I had to sleep on the settee downstairs where the sound is less loud. I am really at my wits end. I lay there tormented by awful OCD intrusive thoughts and such thoughts add their momentum to my inability to sleep.

The only course of action open to me is moving. The thought of moving is unsettling neither I, my son or husband are really up to the enormous task of moving house, a costly and traumatic business where few have any sense of honesty or decency and the law is on the side once again of those who exploit others. Here in the UK you can be right at the point of signing the contract and be gazumped and left paying the legal fees for the legal work completed and thereafter forced to start all over.

I do feel so trapped now by my circumstances and rather wished that we had remained in our old home in the south east. It seems as though since moving nothing has gone right and I sometimes feel as though it never will. It was a thoroughly bad idea and one that was undertaken in a kind of delusional state I can’t really think of a better word to describe it. None of us are really up to such a huge transition as changes in routine, even tiny changes really distress and confuse all of us. Life here is difficult and I still feel so alien and out of place as though this is not my home nor ever will be.

September 8th

Again to day I am so angry, what is the matter with society right now, it is as though there is no understanding for the situation of others. No empathy. This morning we arrive at our local supermarket, which has been undergoing some radical refurbishment or rather more an entire reconstruction to the extent of adding a second story. The merchandise has been moved from one place to another without any warning or indication as to where you might find what you are looking for after it has been moved. No you’re left to wander about aimlessly becoming more and more frustrated. There are few people to ask, it is a huge store and if you go to the wrong place it can take a considerable time to get to the other end of the store. Okay perhaps if you are able bodied it is no big deal but if you are not or you just want to get your shopping over with  as quickly as possible because you are anxious well........This of course happens from time to time even when the shop is not undergoing such drastic changes. For me and many others who find if difficult to cope with shopping for various reasons, such as panic disorder, agoraphobia and for me the inability to cope with things not being the way I expect them, any change in routine it is annoying and stressful and adds to the OCD type problems which present when I am shopping.

I appear so angry nowadays, most times I do my best to subdue it, suppressing it quite well upon most occasions but today my anger wells up inside. It appears to me that no one has any consideration or common sense any more and furthermore I do trust anyone to make sure that the food I buy is fit to eat. Frozen food is a particular area of anxiety. This is more so when I know that it has been moved from one freezer to another or if a freezer has broken down as was the case some weeks ago. I still cannot buy the frozen food from this shop that was moved from a fridge that was broken down and neither am I happy to buy the frozen food today which has been moved to a different location in the store and has been put into a different freezer. I really do not trust the staff not to allow the food to thaw while they wander off somewhere with the typical laid-back attitude which seems to me noticeable of late. Or perhaps it just seems that way to me with my exaggerated OCD perception. I have a dreadful anxiety born of OCD intrusive thinking that food has been refrozen and as a result is potentially fatally hazardous. I do of course recognise that my idea of refrozen is not the same as most others peoples’ ; I get anxious after about ten minutes if I cannot get my food straight into the freezer after removing it from the freezer in the shop so if there are any delays getting it home I dump it too fearful of the possible consequences to use it. I am now at the stage when I would really not use frozen food at all.

A further irritation today to adds to my mounting anxieties and regrettably my anger: The toilets are no longer available downstairs., “New toilets may be accessed upstairs but only by using the lift” the sales assistant tells me as if it is not a problem. “I cannot use the lift and I need to go to the toilet, the whole situation is disgusting and inconsiderate” I reply with obvious anger and walk off vowing never to return to this store. It is of course quite understandable that the fear of people with OCD is generally not widely known, except perhaps for contamination obsessions and compulsion, as the symptoms of OCD are diverse and vary from person to person. It would be unreasonable for me to expect this assistant and whoever is responsible for this unsatisfactory situation to understand that I do not like to use lifts as I fear that I will become trapped, the lift might crash to the ground or it might get stuck and if I get a headaches or migraine I won’t cope . Yes these are among the fears that prevent me from using the lift and in general I would not expect people to really understand such anxieties. However, claustrophobia a fear of confined spaces is a common
phobia, a phobia of which most people would be aware - well you would think so wouldn't you. So even if they did not understand or were aware of OCD they should at least be aware of claustrophobia. You would think that most people had some inking, some vague idea that there will be certain customers who will not be able to use the lift and will therefore not be able to access the toilet. Yet this seems not to have occurred to anyone! Amazing! Most people live within there own cocoon of existence seeming totally unaware of the potential difficulties of others. Moreover surely the fact that the only exit from the upper story is by lift is a health and safety violation. Should there be a fire and the location of stairs is unavailable....... well the out come is unthinkable. There was of course obviously a
stair case – at least I hope so but I did not see one anywhere - but not apparently for use by the general public at least not at this time. Yes the situation may only be temporary - least I hope so, if it is not I will not shop there. I can’t , it’s as simple as that! But even if it is only temporary it is not only inconvenient but could be a major problem for some people and made me quite ill due to my medical problems. I was halfway through my shopping and had to carry on. I did feel rather guilty about losing my temper as it was not the staff member’s fault and perhaps if I had not lost my cool I may have been allowed too use the
stairs , but hey I am only human and do so get fed up with the lack of awareness for the situation that I and so many others are in. The lack of public awareness concerning mental health problems and the impact such has upon the lives of these who suffer from them infuriates me. However perhaps something good might come from my outburst and it will make them think that access by lift only is less than ideal, but sadly somehow I doubt it as there is so much apathy nowadays. I know that we OCD sufferers have this over responsibility thing but it appears to me that most people have gone completely in the other direction thinking that nothing is their responsibility.

September 9th

It is preoccupation with possessions, more than anything else,
that prevents us from living freely and nobly.
Bertrand Russell

My old office chair sits out in the passage on the landing right outside my bedroom. I cannot use it, the seat slopes to the back and it makes my back ache. Some months ago we bought a new one, the one I am sitting in right now to replace it, yet the old chair is still here. It is of no use whatsoever and was in my bedroom for want of a better place to put it but it takes up space and I want to throw it out, but no it has sat there now for two days just getting in the way. My husband fiddled about with it yesterday trying to fix it. He knows he cannot but he tried anyway reluctant to take it down the dump. He questions why it has been thrown out onto the landing even though he knows of course that we bought another one to replace it way back in June!. Hoarding and cluttering the general all round inability to throw much of anything away except food and packaging and other paper waste such as junk mail and so on is becoming a major problem. It is not only me with my OCD who is finding this an increasing predicament but neither my son nor my husband can throw anything away with any ease. My son seems not to want to throw away empty toiletry containers or toiletries he does not use. His room is really cluttered with all sorts of stuff, books, videos, CDs, ornaments, plants, his artwork and just stuff, stuff and more stuff not easy to define and the living space is becoming gradually reduced. He complains of not having room to do his artwork but cannot get rid of his clutter. The same goes for my husband and I.

What is the concern here about disposing of useless items that causes this
problem ;what is the thinking behind the fear and the anxiety along with that sick empty feeling one gets at the mere thought of disposing of ones stuff? For me personally it is not easy to define in the same way as it is to tell you why I feel the compulsion to wash my hands after touching for instance a door handle. I can tell you that I wash my hands because I fear contamination by germs and if I do not wash my hands I become anxious fearing that I will spread this contamination to others and cause them harm. No it is not easy to tell you why I have this anxiety about throwing things away, things that are of no use, take up space, have no sentimental value and are inhibiting my life more and more. All I can tell you is that it makes me anxious. Yet unlike the above compulsive washing example I could not tell you in so many words the nature of this anxiety. The nearest I can come to define this feeling is to describe it as rather like a feeling of loss, a heaviness of heart, a sinking feeling the kind you get when you have lost something of great value but tinged with an anxiety difficult to clearly define. Yes, a feeling of loss most certainly plays a significant part here and even just the thought of throwing away certain items brings about such feelings.

Giving things names, such as my computers, makes these feelings worse. Since becoming interested in computers, or as my son says since becoming addicted to computers, I have had three, they all have names. The first one nearly nine years old is not really functioning at all now - well the computer itself still works but the monitor is broken but there it sits still on it’s desk in our bedroom taking up space along with its printer which without the computer is also useless as it is incompatible with the newer computers. My second computer has never really functioned that well but it is only three years old and does work with most of the current software and is compatible with most up-to-date peripherals and broad band and so on and most normal people would have sold it to help pay for the new one but no I can’t part with any one of them.

On the top of the landing sits a chest of drawers, it takes up space and makes the place feel cluttered and cramped, which of course it is. Our home is small, three adults live in it, adults who need space because of their hobbies, space that is becoming less available due to all our clutter, This chest of draws is a real pain in....... well you know where. Yet I can’t get rid of it, I am simply too anxious merely to dump it. It is mind you a good piece of furniture despite the fact that it came flat packed and this of course makes it even more difficult to throw away. But it is more than that, even though I don’t like it and regret buying it I cannot dispose of it . It is like throwing part of me away, or even a part of someone else. You know writing all this here makes me actually realise it feels as though I would be causing harm as though to a living being. Crazy or what! I am really not sure I should actually leave that last sentence in as I will worry that people will think I am crazy. A chest of drawers, bizarre! More understandable with the computers or with your car, Cars often become items of great affection which many people personify and which they feel sadness when the time arrives to part with it.

I can’t have the chest of drawers in our bedroom, there is simply no room for it due to all the clutter of our collections. Books, soft toys, mostly sheep, plants crystals, and other ornamental nick knacks along with art materials and my artwork. None of my artwork is thrown away, not even the failures or the quick sketches which some times are barely a scribble. No even the ones that have gone damp or discoloured, all are stuffed under the bed. There are four shelves on the wall and a bookcase full of soft toys, books are shoved in the wardrobe so I do not have room for a lot of cloths. There are ten huge sheep and various other critters on the bed and several gremlins from the days when I was obsessed with the film of that name. In fact I have never thrown a stuffed toy away. There are dozens of them in the attic and in cupboards some belonging to my son when he was child. I have the first soft toy we bought him when he was a baby. There are still more stuffed sheep in the sitting room lined along the back of the settee, on chairs, the floor , everywhere.

We all seem to collect things and have phases of different types of collections. This may be the result of what I believe to be our autistic traits. I have said before my son has Asperger syndrome. I believe I may have this also co morbid with my OCD and I also believe my husband to be somewhere on the autistic spectrum. I mentioned this before in some detail and will write about it at length soon. There are those who believe there is a relationship between OCD and autism and I believe that as a sufferer of OCD you can either have traits of autism or have it co morbid with your OCD as you can anything else. Anyway I digress. Back to my hoarding and cluttering. The sitting room is crammed with more books and evidence of the various collections we have been preoccupied with over the years including enough crystals to start our own geology museum :-) just kidding - well I think so. There are also plants and a general clutter of useless dust collecting ornaments that serve no aesthetic purpose and kind of resemble a bric-a-brac shop. There is nothing of any real monetary value just clutter borne of a compulsion to collect useless items a typical syndrome of OCD hoarding and cluttering. Yesterday we were tempted to buy a ceramic bowel. We do not need it was just pretty it would however not be appreciated lost as it where in a sea of clutter. There are dozens of CDs hardly ever used since my sensitively to noise has become increasingly worse and the constant exposure to music wherever we go nowadays has put me off playing my own music. There are piles of paper in cupboards, receipts, pamphlets, letters and such like. They are never looked at, never needed, still they remain pushed into the cupboards. Even in the vestibule there are all kinds of clutter we seem unable to part with although we no longer use or need it.

There is of course no squalor or dirt and decaying food as you may have seen in recent TV programmes concerning severe case of OCD hoarding and cluttering, because of my contamination OCD all food is removed and my house is OCD clean, it is just cluttered.

September 12th

People are not disturbed by things, but by the view they take of them. 
Epictetus


Usually I refrain, sometimes with considerably difficulty, to make personal comments about world situations, politics and the like or upon matters which may give offence or cause contention. However to day I will break this rule and have a real good moan about taxation here in the UK. I cannot imagine there will be anyone out there who will feel offended or upset by my complaining about the grossly unfair and over-the-top tax system, especially when it comes to patrol and particularly with regard to the present situation concerning a shortage of patrol due to the problems in the USA with hurricane Katrina. Patrol here has just risen to £1 per gallon, it has risen by 20 percent in a short space of time and patrol stations here where quick to reflect this rise almost immediately as if capitalising upon this dreadful tragedy. However such a raise in price would not be quite so marked if it were not for the fact that patrol here in the UK is hugely expensive anyway far far more so than elsewhere and in particular in the USA where compared to the UK patrol is cheap. Here in the UK there is I believe an 80% tax on petrol - correct me by all means if I wrong. Whatever the exact figure, the taxation here is enormous on petrol.

Taxation of course is necessary, a country cannot function without it, although what our country spends it on of course is quite another matter and one that I will not discuss here as such is too controversial. Nonetheless the extremes to which taxation has taken since I first paid tax when I began to work back in the sixties is truly overwhelming and causes hardship and is grossly unfair. In those days I was taxed from my wages, and that was it and so it was for most people except the very wealthy. Furthermore it was a relatively small amount, at least in comparison to that of today and I did not complain although most of my colleagues did. Now we are taxed (value added tax VAT, 17.5 %) on everything that we purchase from stores (except food), mail order, even medical supplies unless you’re disabled. Also included is work undertaken, such as building work, plumbing and the like, solicitors, surveyors, you name it anything where money changes hands you have to pay VAT and more shocking here in the UK you pay VAT for a funeral ! There is also a capital gains tax, not that this effects me, nonetheless without going into very boring detail this tax can be rather over the top. A neighbour some years ago sold a house which she had inherited, as this was her second house she had to pay capital gains tax, an enormous amount of between 20 and 40%. and this was on top of death duties. And if that was not enough there is a road tax, you pay a set amount annually per vehicle according to it's type and of course there is the council tax that each householder pays according to the value of his or her property and I am sure there are many other hidden taxes; it is my understanding that the UK is the most taxed nation in the world.

Any way what as all this got to do with OCD. Well it would be easier to ask, what has any issue in life not got to do with OCD? Virtually nothing in my life. Things such as this effect OCDers as much as it do anyone else in fact more so perhaps. Besides I just needed to complain as do we all do from time to time. Concerning the patrol tax in connection with the current situation, this has quite a profound effect on me not simply due to a very limited income but to the possibility of patrol shortages and being stranded in a rather remote
village - at least remote if you cannot travel by public transport because of health issues. Yes there is a main road running right through the village but not much use to you if have no patrol and cannot use the bus! There are no shops except the news agents who sells only the very basics. My GP, dentist, and optician are all at least three miles away. So yes I am stressed, without patrol my life will be drastically changed for the worse. Here in the UK right now there is a possible threat to petrol supplies as the result of demonstrations at oil refineries in an attempt to persuade the government to offset the price increase by reducing the tax on petrol, a futile endeavour I know but something needs to be done and I agree with the protest. However the result of this protest is the fear that there will be a blockade and therefore petrol shortages. There is no blockade planned, just protests, but seemingly people panic rather like those of us with an anxiety disorders and overreact and panic buy petrol and consequently there is a shortage.

But hey am I panicking too soon? Yes of course and today I feel less stressed than yesterday as a more rational perspective takes over or is it that for now the threat has receded after our spate of panic buying and we have a tank of patrol. Not helpful I know but like everyone else I am not keen on being without petrol in an emergency particularly as I am unable to use public transport. Yes I may be taking it all out of proportion and the situation is only temporary but it does give me an idea what my life would be like if there were severe shortages of petrol and yes it has made me feel more insecure. Also sometimes I feel now that there are just so many things that set me off into a state of panicked anxiety, it is getting more and more difficult to find any moment of peace at any time to any where.

Again I feel very ashamed complaining of such an insignificant problem when there are so many much far serious problems which effect the world and the effects of this disaster concerning the rise in price of petrol are of course inconsequential compared to the suffering that has occurred to the people of New Orleans and which occurs on a daily basis all over the world. Here in the UK we can depend on many things and often take them for granted such as  medicine, electricity, and clean water - there will be a water supply of fresh clean water whenever I turn on the tap, I will not have to walk miles each day and carry home water barely fit to drink as is the case in many African countries.

To get perspective concerning petrol and owning a car here in the west, consider that in china only 1 person in 75,000 owns a car. Nonetheless such realisations do little to mitigate such anxieties although it helps to gain some perspective from time to time.

September 14th.

Have nothing in your houses that you do not know to be useful or believe to be beautiful. 
William Morris

People become attached to their burdens sometimes more than the burdens are attached to them. 
George Bernard Shaw


Over the last two or three days we have been decorating the sitting room, an enormous task for me with my OCD for a number of reasons, such as contamination fears concerning paint which of course is a toxic substance. However anxieties over paint are not as severe as they once were although if paint gets on my hands I still have to get as much off as I can, resorting to scrubbing with a Brillo pad! No I can’t use turpentine as that is toxic and the smell on your hands is difficult to get rid off and this of course means that particles of the substance remain. Once you know that smells are caused by particles of the substance in the air your whole attitude to smells of course changes as you feel more exposed to contamination. Nonetheless notwithstanding these problems handling paint is not quite the trauma it once was. But decorating continues to be an endurance test for me with my OCD. The accumulation of clutter which of course all needs moving adds stress and makes the whole endeavour far more exhausting than it would otherwise be and rather spoils the after effect of a newly decorated room, for as soon as the clutter is returned to its place it seems as though nothing much has changed and you hardy notice the new colour paint or the rearranged furniture.

If you recall from a previous entry my husband, son and I all have quite significant difficulty disposing of our possessions and cling to things that are no linger used or really wanted for any reason. Moreover we seem to collect all manner of things to extreme levels seeming not knowing when it is appropriate to stop despite the fact that our living space is drastically reduced and our ability to get on with our lives becomes thwarted overwhelmed as we are with the things we buy, collect and the things we never throw away, which is virtually nothing except waste food and such paper items as junk mail. And sadly we even hang on to paper waste of no particular use for some considerable time, if not indefinitely, such as old letters, receipts and yes I suppose some junk mail in certain instances and other bits of paper such as scribbled reminders and so on . I have a letter from Sussex council it is over five years old now and is of no relevance at all, the issue having been resolved and in any case we now live three hundred miles away! I noticed this letter the other day, although it is of no use it somehow got brought here when we moved along with all our other clutter. Even moving house did not compel us to part with our stuff, it was all simply packed into crates with no sorting whatsoever . We planned to sort out our things when we arrived but this never happened, things just got shoved into cupboards, stacked on shelves, under the bed and so on. Has this letter been thrown away? I have no idea, I do not recall doing so. Silly I know but as I have said before, although sometimes the reason for hanging on to our stuff is obscure even to myself it is nonetheless no easy matter to ignore.

You know I really wish people would stop inundating you with unsolicited advertising, sometime you have no idea what is relevant, what you have requested and what has been forced on you. Sometime it is this anxiety that makes me hang on to even junk mail from time to time even though I know on a more rational level that I have not requested it and it is of no use. Perhaps it is the fear of making a mistake and throwing away some papers that I might need or have requested, such as communications from our bank which in fact did happen on one occasion.

Concerning the petrol anxiety, well nothing much of any thing came of it, the protest was not well supported and there was no disruption to the supply and all that panic - no not just mine but from the public in general - was all for nothing. Odd how at the time your imagination runs riot with a variety of disastrous scenarios that really scare you and which seem all to real posing a threat to your well being.  And than in retrospect when the situation has resolved and the delusional or exaggerated thinking has been bought into a more logical rational perspective you wonder why you allowed yourself to be influenced yet again by the irrational torment of OCD. I guess that is the nature of the beast, the tormenting OCD monster only too ready to exploit any situation no matter how insignificant or how illogical in order to drive you crazy and fill you with anxiety.  It is interesting to note that this anxiety was one that was shared by many. Yes maybe for altogether different reasons and most of these reasons would not have the neurotic component as mine perhaps, but nonetheless the anxiety and behaviour of the public who queued for ages in long queues and even argued with one another just goes to show you how irrational and insecure everyone is at times.

September 15th.

True friendship comes when silence between two people is comfortable. 
Dave Tyson Gentry

I feel rather more hopeful today concerning my son who has somehow despite his social integration difficulties at least managed to go along to a meeting of fellow sufferers of Aspergers syndrome and high functioning autism for a social evening. Yes seems rather incongruous doesn't it, but like all of us who are different from the normal, although I much prefer the term neurotypicals NTs as normal people are referred in autistic circles, such difficulties are less apparent when one is with people who suffer in similar ways and where one may feel more comfortable with ones differences. The meeting arranged by the autistic society was convened in order to discuss possible monthly get-to-gethers of high functioning autists and Aspergers sufferers in which they can go out and about to pubs, the cinema and so on. I hope my son and indeed the others who came that evening will all gain from this endeavour and the loneliness of social isolation will be relieved. You know that even if you do not have the ability to converse with others for whatever reason it does not mean that you wish to be alone. Such conditions as autism, Aspergers syndrome, social phobia, avoidant personality disorder or whatever the reasons for your social awkwardness does not mean that you wish to be by yourself all the time. Sometimes just being in the presence of others as long as they understand the problems and everyone feels comfortable is often enough to relieve such feelings of loneliness even if no one speaks one word. Often I get the feeling that a lot of people talk simply for the sake of it, because it is expected and there are feelings of awkwardness between people if there is not a constant barrage of conversation.
 

September 16th

Frugality is one of the most beautiful and joyful words in the English language, and yet one that we are culturally cut off from understanding and enjoying.  The consumption society has made us feel that happiness lies in having things, and has failed to teach us the happiness of not having things. 
Elise Boulding

I like to walk about among the beautiful things that adorn the world; but private wealth I should decline, or any sort of personal possessions, because they would take away my liberty. 
George Santayana,

Well the decorating is almost finished and the confusion contained. It has been exhausting not to mention stressful and not just the actual process of painting the walls, woodwork and so and all the contamination anxieties that this involves. No the chaos of our clutter added greatly to this irksome task and the good natured bickering - at least I hope so - as to who should take this opportunity to dispose of some of his or her clutter added rather to the confusion and caused some delay. Now the thing is that in my experience living with two other hoarders and clutters, who do not necessarily have OCD although my son most certainly has a mild form, is that each one of us sees the others clutter as well........ clutter, rubbish, useless, and a source of chaos and confusion inhibiting normal functions and generally overwhelming while his or own personal clutter is simply a collection, is aesthetic and essential and for whatever reasons he or she needs to keep it. So here we have the situation where we are each trying to persuade the other to declutter or to at least put something away and not have everything out so the house looks like a flee market or a bric-a-brac store or even a charity shop!

After decorating I simply could not stand the thought of putting all our clutter back where it was before as the new decor would barely be noticed and quite frankly the feeling of space, all that space was lovely and something rarely experienced in our house. It has to be said, although I can’t part with my stuff for reasons already mentioned in early entries, it is very depressing and confining, rather like ones cluttered mind it adds to the feelings of anxiety and frustration that we are all experiencing each for his or her own reasons. And besides it seemed a good opportunity to try and get some order from the chaos even if we actually throw very little away and at least have the sitting room look like a more normal sitting room. Sometimes if you have a problem with hoarding and cluttering it can help to move things around and try to confine them to restricted areas in some semblance of order. This works if your hoarding has not reached such severe levels that you have no space at all, your stairs are not crammed with stuff, every room and cupboard even your bath and so on is not jammed packed and all you have are paths leading round the house as was the case with a couple of people I have known. If this is not the case than you can feel much relief by moving things around and finding places to cram them and try to have at least one room clutter free or relatively clutter free.

Of course ones man’s clutter and rubbish is another man’s or woman's personal and precious collection. So some understanding and tolerance is required. The idea was, at least concerning the abundant collection of ornaments, (crystals, plants. soft toys, mostly sheep, books and various curiosities including bits of old abbeys and other ruins, rocks collected from the beach and other unusual items which to many would seems odd to say the least), is to try to have only a few things out at one time and than rotate them every few months or so.

My husband really has trouble with this and you can feel the tension and anxiety of which he appears to have little insight into, reasoning with him does little to help as indeed is the case for myself when my son tries to get me to dump my nine years old computer which I cannot use because the monitor has broken. “It’s a machine he says“ trying to conceal his amusement, “it’s not sentient. But as I have I explained before the feelings I get if I try to throw away such an item are as though it is a living being. Crazy! Yes deep down I know this yet there is this conflict, myself, my psyche is divided and in my heart I cannot see it this way and such items will probably never be thrown away while I am still alive. It would be so librating to get rid of some of my things but there is this block, this ache in my heart and I just can‘t despite the fact that sometimes all our clutter drives me round the bend - well further round the bend :-) . So naturally I understand both my son and husband and it is with some unease that we all make this attempt and as I have said before nothing really gets thrown away. And as long as it does not leave the house I am okay albeit with some ill ease as I attempt to store things away. We have tried this strategy before and it has been okay for a time although we never ever get it quite right and there remains far more clutter than would be the case in most homes. My husband’s difficulty coping with this soon comes to the fore and it is not long until he is surreptitiously sneaking things back when he thinks no one will notice. Moreover it is getting more difficult to find places to store our stuff, the attic is quite full of things I cannot even recall and there is not a lot of space up there anyway because of the design and low roof. All our cupboards are crammed and the vestibule is full. It looks just awful from the road as you can see all the clutter through the window, I am surprised that one has complained as people tend to do.

When we first moved in we had a neighbour who was a serious hoarder and clutterer, she would not allow anyone into the house to do repairs, her house had been flooded for some reason or another, and she could not get it fixed and dare not use her electricity. She could not open the back door and had to take her rubbish, which I image was food only as nothing much of anything else was thrown away, right along the street past the entire block of terraced houses to access her yard and her dust bin. Her home seethed with a profusion of clutter, newspapers and personal papers, letters, receipts and so on piled high dating back decades. I felt sorry for this lady I could imagine her pain, she lived alone and often when sufferers of hoarding and cluttering OCD live alone this problem becomes very severe indeed. Although we are no where near this severely affected our clutter does make life difficult and furthermore, do we stop adding to it? No way. My son groaned on Tuesday night when I returned home with yet another plant, I simply could not resist. Yes I know it will add to our problems, I recalled having agreed amongst each other to buy no more plants, I know I will be upset if it dies and as it grows bigger I know that of course it will take up more space and add to the overcrowding. Why I bought it I don’t really know and again it is so difficult to explain my reasoning as such seems obscure even to myself. Perhaps it’s that constant drive to be free of depression, to give myself a treat, a kind of quick fix an attempt perhaps to improve my environment in the hopes that I will be more contented, less stressed, less unhappy. It was cheap, just a couple of pounds, no big deal so against my better judgment I bought it.

It is as if you just cannot help doing something even though you know that in the end it will be to your detriment; you know that buying something you like will not make you any happier and you are mostly doing so to try and make yourself feel better even though you know from past experienced that it never does. And in the end no matter what you do however significant, or in this case seemingly insignificant, you seem never to lift that awful nagging depression and are instead making your situation worse.

For now the sitting room is clearer and with some manipulation we managed to put away some of our clutter. I did make some real progress sorting my cloths and separating cloths I have not worn for years and never will wear again having put on far too much weight. It was no easy matter mind you. Although the issue with such items as clothing is not the same as with the computer or stuffed toys and so on there is still this sense of loss and of making a mistake and various "what if "reasons why I should hang on to them ranging from the sublime to the ridiculous. The most ridiculous concerning the possibility of some disaster or another occurring and the need for warm clothing and none being available. Silly I know and this consideration is mild but there nonetheless.

So even parting with cloths is no easy matter. In order to do so I persuaded the clinging part of my psyche that these cloths will help the local charity shop to raise money, such reasoning off sets my anxiety rather but will of course cause intensify my contamination rituals: although the cloths are clean I will need to wash them carefully and it will be very difficult for me to convince myself that they are clean enough to give to others . It will not be easy to persuade  myself that by giving these cloths way I am not contaminating anyone despite washing them cloths meticulously. So now there they are all in black sacks waiting to be washed, so at this juncture I cannot as yet pat myself on the back and say that I have disposed of these unwanted cloths. We did mange to throw away some empty boxes and paper bags and other bits of paper clutter, and some really tatty curtains. Nearly a sack full so it’s some progress and allowed us some place to store things and made feel less overwhelmed in the sitting room.

I do not know how others with this problem feel but if you can give your stuff away to friends, family, neighbours and anyone you know it is less of a problem and you feel less guilty - yes guilt is another emotion which plays a part here. It is indeed difficult to throw away something as you feel extravagant and wasteful but yet again there are yet other reasons and motivations at work here and which are not easy to define in such an obvious way. We have a gothic style mirror which we know the daughter of a friend of ours will just love and although it will be difficult to part with it, it will not be as bad knowing that it will be appreciated and just knowing who has it also seems to mitigate these anxieties. I know this all seems so superficial and considering the philosophical, deep and meaningful preoccupations that often absorb my thinking and occupy my reading this all seems so incongruous but again it is another case of the divided self, a phenomenon of most mental illness and OCD is no exception,  at least to some extent.

September 19th

There are very few monsters who warrant the fear we have of them. 
Andre Gide

Fear makes the wolf bigger than he is. 
German Proverb

Well I really must publish the above entries I have not done so since September 9th although as usual I have made entries in my journal. If I do not publish these entries they will seem rather out of date but I guess that is not that important and as this is the only way I can keep this blog going than it is better than nothing. But there is always something every time I want to publish my entries, something which worries me something not quite right and the more I read over them the more faults and consequence anxieties arise. There are anxieties of which I am simply just too afraid to tell of right now which often cause some considerable delay. This is how OCD ruins your life no matter what you try to do it tries to gain a foothold and gnaw away at whatever it is you attempt eroding your capacity to accomplish anything if you allow it. And of course this is not just here with my blog or my website but in every facet of my life. Sometimes it is difficult for me to explain to you what it is like, that ever present anxiety over one thing or another along with feelings of fear. It is difficult to find the right words to explain quite how it feels. Yes as I type this right now I am afraid assailed with doubts and often such fears return with more intensity when I write as I relate my experiences both past and present and try to tell you what my life is like and how I feel.

Everyone, in fact every sentient creature experiences fear . There maybe many people who rarely have this experience. There may even be the rarity of a person who never has ever experienced fear although I am not aware of such a person or if it is indeed possible not to feel this emotion, which in normal circumstances protects us from danger in appropriate situations. But I am sure I can safely say that most of us at one time or another have experienced the emotion of fear and therefore you have some idea what it feels like. You will of course know only too well what fear is like if you suffer from OCD or other anxiety disorder or any other mental health problem such as schizophrenia and similar conditions where terrifying hallucinations bring about profound fear. There was no doubt in my mind that the girl on the ward when I was in hospital back in the early eighties was very familiar with this emotion, she was clearly terrified each morning as she saw beetles crawling up the wall of her room. This hallucination occurred every single day. Her hysterical screaming pierced the quiet of each and every morning, before the sun had risen she began screaming and screaming. Fear and anxiety are part and parcel of all mental illness but these feelings are difficult to describe except by reference to your own experience; I can never clearly tell you what it feels like to have some degree of anxiety every day and to be overwhelmed by crushing and incapacitating fear for all manner of every day occurrences distorted by dreadful imaginings. But if you have felt fear than you will have some idea what if feels like.

What is the difference between fear and anxiety? Quite honesty in my experience very little and during extreme attacks of anxiety the feelings are more or less the same and I often use fear and anxiety synonymously in certain situations.

Webster's Dictionary gives the follow definitions.

Anxiety: Pain or uneasiness of mind respecting some event ;future or uncertain; concern; solicitude; care; disquietude.

Fear: A painful emotion caused by an expectation of evil or of impending danger; anxiety; solicitude; dread


As I have already said I tend to think that these emotions are more or less similar in certain circumstances. Fear being perhaps the more severe, disabling and acute emotion which can occur without warning and my be fleeting and gone as soon as the danger passes or the perceived danger has passed and the brain has had time to determine the situation. For instance a car backfires, you jump with a start, your heart pounds, you have that adrenalin rush, your heart jumps into your month and your stomach constricts but at soon as you know the source of you fear and if it is not a threat you may begin to settle down. But fear can keep on going, the mind adding momentum sustaining it by dreadful imaginings. Such as in the above example you could easily image that it was gun fire, particularly if you suffer from post traumatic stress disorder , your mind adds momentum and as a result increases the duration of the fearful feeling. Fear should in normal circumstances subside once the danger has passed.

There is not a lot of difference between fear and anxiety and anxiety can precipitate fear and vice versa as in the above example. However anxiety as felt by sufferers of the disorders on this website mostly concerns anticipation of something that is not occurring right now, it mostly concerns worries of future events or the perceived negative outcomes of past events. As I have already said anxiety involves fearful imaginings such as the continuous worrying of a person with hypochondria who has the idea that he or she has some life threatening disease; he or she will feel that gnawing persistent anxiety without abatement varying in degrees which may reach overwhelming levels in much the same way that it does to everyone during those acute moments of fear mentioned earlier. From my own experience I can tell you it is no exaggeration. Prior to my full blow OCD I was tormented for months with hypochondria and today I have this in varying degrees. I recall that I had the oddest notion that I had hardening of the arteries at only twenty two years of age. I had overheard a depressing conversation at work where it was mentioned that a friend of one of my colleagues was dying of hardening of the arties. From that time on I was sick with dread, appalling unremitting dread. I had had similar attacks of such imaginings: I had worried about leukaemia, lung cancer and other terminal illnesses. After the doctor had assured me that I did not sufferer from any of these illnesses my mind, quite against my volition of course, automatically found another illness to worry about. I recall that during this time of great anxiety concerning the possibility that I had hardening of the arties, which of course on a rational level I knew was a malady of old age, I looked at my wrist and imagined that my veins had disappeared. What this quite had to do with hardening of the arteries I had no idea I did not even know what the symptoms were but I really thought that my arteries had disappeared. I really feel silly telling you this now and it was only my imagination of course but at the time it was so real and the fear that overwhelmed me I will never forget, although of course the exact feelings cannot be remembered. Nonetheless now as I type just recalling the fear I went through at that time I feel that anxious feeling rise to my throat.

So please make no mistake, anxiety is no mild emotion, in its extreme it feels like fear, it leads to fear and it is fear and the fears borne of anxious imaginings such as that experienced by anxiety sufferers may be just as real and may feel just as terrifying in certain extreme situations as fear experienced during a real threat. Any one suffering from panic disorder will tell you how terrifying it feels when in the throes of this very severe type of anxiety; a full blown anxiety attack is felt as excruciatingly overwhelming and incapacitating as fear felt in the more normal circumstances of a real threat.

It is now 11.55. I am really now so fed up with checking all the above entries and will publish. I get so tired of how all this eats away at my life taking away my precious time, time that could be spent on other things, writing other things that I hope will be of benefit to others. I am having big trouble with my old computer and need to give it some attention and I have some artwork to do and various other projects for this website and that of my son's although he is gradually taking over this task. I resent how this manifestation of OCD is inhibiting this endeavour and am tried of going over and over these entries. There will invariably be mistakes there always are, I have problems concerning attention deficient that effects the accuracy of everything I write and whatever I write will never ever be perfect in that respect and somehow I have to accept this. And concerning the other fears about causing harm by what I have written or not written..... well I don't know how to overcome them but even if I only concentrate on trying to ignore the aspect of my anxiety concerning grammatical and other similar errors it would be something and would help cut down the amount of checking involved in that regard. So I am not re reading for the umpteenth time and will click publish mistakes and all. Ummm right now I am worrying about the second from last sentence and other sentences which I think are convoluted and complicated. I can obsess and re read until my brain is so exhausted and than I feel so frustrated and irritable as I am feeling right now.  What do a few mistakes matter I am not professional writer. Silly I know but they do matter, I wish it were otherwise. 

September 20th

We have two ears and one mouth so that we can listen twice as much as we speak. 
Epictetus

Most conversations are simply monologues delivered in the presence of a witness. 
Margaret Millar

Last night I watched the film Intimate Strangers confidences trop intimes a French film by Patrice Leconte Starring Sandrine Bonnaire and Fabrice Luchini. The film is about a women with marital problems who when consulting a psychiatrist walks into the wrong office and instead finds herself discussing the intimate details of her marriage with a tax consultant who rather taken unawares does not tell this women that he is not a psychiatrist. After a couple of consultations the tax advisor still has not the courage to own up to his real identity . The point of my mentioning this is that there was an interesting conversation between the legitimate psychiatrist and the tax adviser concerning this women during which the psychiatrist said how people with her kind of problem were nowadays unable to find anyone to listen to them, and instead they had to engage the professional services of psychiatrists whose expertise they really do not need simply because no one knows how to listen anymore.

I could not have agreed more. In recent years I have noticed that no one wants to listen anymore and I do not just not mean that no one wants to listen to another's problems, no, no one wants to listen to anything any more, most people seem so consumed by self interest. It appears to me that no one has any interest in any one else, either pain or joy no one is interested in the experiences of others - at least not in the lives of people that they know, real people with whom they associate on a daily basis. Yet a significant number of people are addicted to soap operas following closely and becoming involved in the lives of the characters yet they have no interest or concern for the lives of real people. Moreover followers of soaps often momentarily lose touch with the reality of the situation inasmuch that it is not real. We all do this if we admit it , we get so involved with the scenarios of such programs on TV. We occupy our thoughts with the lives of these characters, we feel sadness when they are sad, along with the protagonists we experience anger and sorrow and we look forward to the next instalment. We may even feel disappointed if we miss an episode and ask some else what happened. We even discuss the problems of the characters but we seem not to care about or take interest in the lives of real people. Why is this? The lives of real people are more important and are certainly more interesting. After all these soap operas do not really show the reality of life, particularly the lives of those who suffer from mental health issues. Take Home and Away as an example, an Australian soap, I enjoy it, I have watched it for years, it is a distraction but it has little baring on the reality of life. One of the characters is supposed to have OCD, well you would never know it. I missed the part where it became apparent that she had OCD it was only later on during a another scenario that the fact came up that she was supposed to be a suffer of OCD otherwise I would never have noticed. She exhibits no OCD symptoms whatever, no one gets this well now do they? Wow if treatment in Australia is that good well...... I am out on the next plane, flying phobia notwithstanding! Admittedly I did not see the episodes which portrayed this character's OCD in the first instance but most certainly in the episodes since there have been no indication whatsoever that she has OCD.

Most soaps cannot even portray normal conversations with any reality except during angry scenes and even than they lack the spontaneity, the turbulence and incoherence of most heated exchanges . Have you noticed in soaps that for the most part conversations are arranged in a logical manner one person speaks, the other listens without interruption until the first has finished speaking and than he or she speaks while the other than listens. How many conversations have you had recently when that happens? I can think of very few. How often can you finish a sentence before someone interrupts you? No not even conversations with mental health professions are conducted in this manner, the days of laying on the couch while the psychiatrist or other therapist listens are long gone, you re lucky if you re able to complete a sentence without interruption. I am not saying that this happens all the time, in fact in relatively recently a mental health professional did in fact listen quite intently, but most certainly through out all the years of my experience with psychiatrists and other mental health professionals it has upon far too may occasions. Once I saw a CPN  a few years ago for several months and not once did I get to talk about my OCD in any real way. I recall being interrupted the first time I mentioned it before completing a sentence and after continued interruption I gave up. I have great difficulty expressing myself finding the right words and so it was hopeless for me. I had told this Person nothing whatsoever. I was told that a report was written up each time I  received a visit I often wondered what was written in that report.

Most certainly conversations with friends, colleagues or family are not what they once were. No one ever asks concerning your interests, no one really asks how you are accept in accordance with polite conversation, have you noticed the look of surprise on another ‘s face if you answer “How are you?” with a truthful response instead of the usual “Fine thank you how are you?” If you answer truthfully you will be met with some astonishment in most instances. We have lived here in the north east now three years during that time no one has asked us anything about our lives in the south east or why we came here. No one has  asked what my husband or son did for a living or what we think of our new lives here, nothing!. And most certainly no one wants much to do with you if you are ill other than the occasional morbid curiosity and nosiness. No one wants to listen or take interest . Yet if they can they will inundate you with all their problems, interests and ideas while barely listening to yours. This often happens become of my difficulties to having conversations with others and to share both my interests and my problems and it is for these reasons that I am probably at a worse disadvantage than perhaps are the more socially able . As a consequence I get labelled a good listener because I simply cannot think of anything to say fast enough before being interrupted so people will talk on and on.

I was told that I am a good listener way back in the sixties and many many times since. I rang a former neighbour the other day, it was a case of necessity , I have not spoken to this person for nearly two years. We had lived closed to each other and had known each other for over twenty years yet she did not even ask after my son or asked much of anything personal at all. In fact she made the most lame excuse possible to hang up : I will have to go there is someone at the door. It is so sad and many people feel so alone as they have lost the art of listening and of caring, they listen to no one and no one listens to them. We are all so preoccupied in our own lives and have neither the time nor the inclination to take interest in others. Sometimes there is just no one to talk with. At least with the internet you can talk to others and have your say uninterrupted as communication by writing means they have to listen...... or do they?  I guess most people will read what you have written in an e-mail or instant message but of course this does not mean that they have to respond. Now suddenly writing this here I can tell you that in some extreme cases people with whom you may correspond still do not have to take an interest or comment. I used to exchange email with an e-mail pal who never responded unless it was something that interested her or was about herself. She ignored blatantly any other comment or inquiry. Yes it is indeed a very lonely world and we are all to some extent isolating ourselves because of our lack of interest in others.

September 21st

For man, autumn is a time of harvest, of gathering together.  For nature, it is a time of sowing, of scattering abroad. 
Edwin Way Teale

Today is the autumn equinox, it is the beginning of Autumn here in the northern hemisphere, today night and day are of equal length in both hemispheres. It is traditionally a time for gathering in the harvest and for gardeners it is a time for pruning and cutting back and preparing the garden for the winter months.  It is a time of change not only in nature but within ourselves also for we are of course despite our sophisticated trappings a part of nature.  It is a time when we have the opportunity to learn new things. Here in the UK it is the beginning of the school year, it is an opportunity for everyone to learn something different, for adults also it's a good time to learn new skills or simply to enrol in an  adult education course to broaden your mind. And for people with problems such as those included on this website it is a good time to participate in such distractions afforded by the many learning opportunities available. I understand for some of us, and right now that includes myself, it may not be possible to be involved in such an activity for a number of reasons but  if you can it will help you get through these gloomy days when we begin to feel rather weary and despondent. I am of course as always speaking from my own perspective perhaps you will see things differently and see autumn in a more positive light. There are of course some positives as you tend to wind down and becomes less active and perhaps you can enjoy the comforts of your own home and the company of your family during this time of year. 

It is however most certainly not my favourite time of the year and even during times of my life when my condition has been less severe I have always felt increasingly anxious around this time. There is something about the onset of autumn that makes me uneasy, whether this is due simply to the onset of colder weather ,shorter and gloomier days or perhaps even reminders of past events, whatever it is I do not like this time of year. I have had some sorrow during the months of autumn but than I have also at other times during the summer months in fact more so. But whatever the reason for my unease there is nothing I can do about the the coming of autumn and will somehow have to get through it. At my age one should not wish one’s life away by counting the months to the return of spring and instead try to make the best of the situation.

I try to make my home as bright and as pleasant as possible, not often easy as during the autumn we have problems with damp and such can make one feel depressed. At the moment I am painting pictures of flowers on box canvas to hang in the kitchen and have painted our stools similarly. It is amazing how this creates a more cheerful and bright look to the kitchen even ours which is rather old and run down. Even if you don't fancy yourself as a painter it is of course possible to buy quite cheaply bright and cheerful prints.  Also plenty of plants enhance your environment at a time of year when greenery is in short supply - well it is here in the northeast. There are fewer trees than there are in Sussex and I notice this particularly at this time of the year when trees begin to lose their leaves.  Now as an OCDer with a tendency to compulsive hoarding and cluttering I can over do it rather and I need to be mindful of this particularly concerning plants. My son groans when yet another plants is added to what he calls the jungle. I try my best to mitigate the negative feeling I have concerning this time of year as much as is possible and I think that making ones personal environment as pleasant as is possible in whatever circumstances you are in helps to some extent to improve ones mood.

The following are photos of my paintings and stools to match, you would be amazed of the difference these make. People nowadays seem to go for the minimalist look in sitting rooms kitchens and bathrooms which I find bleak and cold making you feel as though your are in an office or a laboratory. Yes over the top clutter is for my family and I a big problem and one that is growing however bare empty homes are another extreme and a bit of cosy clutter does much to make one feel more comfortable during these colder gloomier months.

Click on thumb nail for larger image.

I am of course not alone with such apprehension or increases in feelings of depression concerning the approach of autumn and winter time. If you suffer from seasonal affective disorder SAD you will be feeling much the same as I and maybe even worse. In fact anyone who sufferers from depression will not welcome the onset of autumn. There is definitely a difference in the amount of light even on a sunny day and for those of us who are sensitive to such things it is indeed noticeable.

Today is most certainly not a good start at all, I have been awake since 2.30 there has been a loud and very intrusive thumping noise from the factory in our village which has been working at night for over four weeks. Sometimes the noise is so loud I simply cannot sleep or I am woken as I was today and cannot return to sleep. Ever since moving here this factory has been a real thorn in my side and I have tried everything to get the problem resolved but it would seem that I have no rights and they can work 24/7 and make a good deal of noise which is audible even to the deaf. Yes even a lady of ninety could hear it and she was very hard of hearing. Well I will not go into details as it would be tedious and does nothing really for me or anyone else. In the UK the government is very into human rights issues and quite rightly so too. However only in certain areas, and this is not one of them. The problem is it would seem: I don’t have any rights! I don’t have the right to peace and quiet at night. Yes a main road passes right through our village and in all fairness I can’t do much about that. But the traffic does subside at night and is barely noticeable with only the very occasional passing vehicle, so at night the traffic is not a problem. But there is something that can be done about this factory, there could at least be some restriction on working during what was once referred to as unsociable hours. Not much to ask, we live in a residential area but in a strange mix of agriculture and industry, it is not quite the idyll one would imagine despite the pleasant view from the side and back windows overlooking fields and hills in the distance.

No it is no idyll of peaceful tranquilly, it is hell for me. I feel as though I am living in some hell realm where I am tortured by noise every single day, it has made my health worse due to three years of sleep deprivation. I find it difficult to complain I do not wish to deprive anyone of a living but I have to sleep, and besides I simply cannot get any help with this problem as seemingly I have no recourse in law unless I can afford a solicitor and engage in an expensive court case and even it I could the law simply does not support my position at all, in other words I have no rights. In the twenty first century the misery of noise from this factory which occurs in my village is an anachronism of a by gone age but like so many anachronisms that where seemingly things of the past it is here today and will remain here today if nothing is done about it. Wouldn’t you think that in this day and age a factory employing 200 people would not be allowed to work in a residential area at night unless it was entirely soundproofed? If anyone reading this has any knowledge concerning my position in law regarding this situation I would appreciate your advice.

Yes I was very naive indeed to have bought a house here and there is not a day that passes that I do not regret this. Yes I saw the factory when we made an offer to buy our house, it is in plain view. Initially I thought it was a warehouse but even if I had not it simply would never have occurred to me that they would be allowed to work throughout the night. I really regret buying this house now and feel the mistake of moving here for this and other reasons will be something that will haunt me now for the rest of my life. There is no going back for many reasons and somehow I have to either do something to stop this noise which seems increasingly unlikely or move elsewhere and this is something none of us feel able to cope with right now as the stress and anxiety of such a course of action is just too overwhelming .


September 23rd.

Well I lamented the passing of summer in late August far too soon it would seem, two days after the autumn equinox it is still so warm, at least for the time of year. I sit here now really quite warm, hot in fact.. Although it is pleasant to feel such mild temperatures at this time of year it is indeed unusual and brings to the fore the reality of global warming. It is so warm in fact that it would be lovely to be able to open the windows, it is 5am and there is little traffic on the road and I might just get to here the birds sing - well I would if it were not for the continued noise of the factory.

I rang the department of the environment yesterday as I was really at my wits end with the noise feeling so ill after having hardly any sleep. As you know telephoning for me is becoming an increasingly difficult task due to my problems with social anxiety but I was so angry. Anyone else notice how anger can give you that extra bit of momentum to take action that would otherwise not be taken in normal circumstances? To my amazement they have received other complaints. Knowing that I am not alone in this helps considerably. Because I have OCD and have this sensitivity to noise which may or may not be due to aspergers syndrome or simply due to high levels of stress (I still of yet do not know the reason for such sensitivity as no diagnosis is available) but whatever I am often regarded by my family as overreacting to noise and even at times imagining it all. My son who has a diagnosis of Aspergers syndrome seems only to be disturbed by certain noises, noises which affect him and which are different from the noises which affect me and besides he sleeps at the back of the house where the noise does not penetrate. My husband well....... He is one of those people who sleeps like a log, a bomb could go off and he would carry on sleeping. So neither are really affected although both can hear it in the front side of the house but because they’re the least effected they seem to take it in their stride, at least they do not appear to react. Maybe they’re more laid back but maybe they are depressed, tried and simply worm out by the increasing difficulties and frustrations of life. Yes so am I but depression like all thi