This That Distorts Me Has Saved Me

One Emotion

2009-10-01T17:11:00.002+01:00

I've felt empty, yet I have all reason to be feel complete. I am one emotion, in my own bubble drifting around, almost aimlessly – perhaps I'm lost; I'm certainly confused. Everything bounces back off of me, even the good things, the warm fuzzy feeling things become absorbed by the bubble and I carry on drifting...drifting. I find myself switching off, I can tell you're speaking to me but I can't hear what you're saying. I ask you to repeat it, but I'll just sit there staring a you blankly – the bubble muffles and distorts my sound, vision and sense of time. It's a shell, there to protect me, supposedly – but it's doing the complete opposite. It's smothering me. There is nothing worse that feeling out of control of your own body and mind, to the point where I am no longer a person but a big 'fuzz'. I've gone from having tunnel vision to having no vision and no reality, minimal functionality. These eyes aren't mine – I'm just watching what they see somewhere else.

Why has my defence mechanism switched itself on? Why am I malfunctioning?

I feel like I need a big slap in the face to wake me up, but nothing helps. I'll just carry on and hope for the best. One day I'll wake up, but I don't know what it'll take to get my hands on that red pill...

Don't get me wrong I'm not depressed or unhappy, just one 'blank' emotion. I'm a little lost and confused to say the least.

Trials and Tribulations

2009-07-05T17:10:00.007+01:00

So here I am again. Isn't it funny how we're inspired to write when we are feeling down, depressed or confused?

I've had a long break from feeling any anxiety or depression – a good 5 months or so; it's been the greatest time of my life and I'm very thankful for having a rest-bite, enabling me to 'catch up with life'. Over the last two months, life has begun to calm down and a routine of some kind has settled in, and slowly but surely the anxiety has managed to crawl it's way back in. The bastard! I've learnt now that anxiety is something that never goes away, it's a part of us. A section of our brain is programmed a certain way, meaning that if you are the slightest bit out of your comfort zone, it gets activated. If a situation or a way of thinking goes out of control (even the tiniest bit) it switches into overdrive and hey presto you're stuck in the vicious circle of anxiety.

I am once again stuck in the rough seas of anxiety, feeling overwhelmed and scared, splashing and sinking until I can master how to float and eventually swim to safety...

I'm not really sure how it crept back in, something went 'wrong' down the line and kicked it off – I really wish I knew what. It's built up and up and now I'm reaching the point of near explosion. I'm having panic attacks on a daily basis, seeing in tunnel vision and having minimal ability to speak. It doesn't happen often but I'm feeling damn right depressed. I hate saying 'I'm depressed', especially as I know others who are in far worse situations and have more of an excuse to feel that way than I do. Hell, I'm even depressed for those people!

I've just come back from my second holiday this month, it was a short camping holiday with my closest friends, which really helped to take my mind off of things. I'm feeling a little more centred and able to think straight which is just what I needed. This morning I booked myself a docs appointment to see if I can get some help (hopefully in counsellor or psychologist form). I should have done it long ago, but now I'm at my wits end and feel it's all I can do (although, I've only just overcome my fear of the doctors which didn't help before).

September has been my cut off month, I planned at the beginning of this year that I'd do all I can to enjoy life as much as I could whilst I had the chance (and succeeded), and in September things were going to change. Now that time has come, it's going to be an uphill struggle but getting myself a job and place to live (somewhere where I'm not walking on eggshells constantly) will do far less damage anxiety-wise than staying in the situation I'm currently in. Get a job, move somewhere else...sounds simple and easier than it really is.

My Dad's due to be released next month. I find it hard to believe it's been 2 years 6 months already considering the amount that's actually happened in that short space of time. I haven't a clue how I feel about it right now. But whatever happens, I just pray that emotions don't come flooding back and I turn into someone half the size again. I am stronger, older, wiser and more experienced now, I just hope I remember that when the moment comes...

So how I do it? How can I be normal and face day to day tasks without breaking down? How do I work, study and find a place to live without breaking down?

It's all trails and tribulations..."There's no end to the trails and tribulations we all have to face, and the choices we have to make. Making mistakes, taking the wrong path and at times simply dealing with something far from the best way - it's just life, in time we'll come to learn what gets us there and what slows us down"

Cycling Trivialities - Jose Gonzalez

Lyrics

It's Allright For Some

2009-04-30T16:47:00.002+01:00

You'll be pleased to hear (I hope) that I am still alive! Apologies for being absent from the blag and twittersphere - I've been too busy to even get on the computer!

My life has taken many twists and turns; all spiraling in different and positive directions. I am pleased to announce that this has been the best year of my life (so far). For once I'm truly happy, and for the first time ever I feel as if I have a life (sad and soppy I know)! There is nothing better than the feeling of satisfaction and fulfillment! My future is roughly planned out and my present is stable and keeping me busy. My life experience so far has come in handy, I no longer dwell on things and follow the philosophy that everything happens for a reason. Worrying is a waste of time, if I can I'll sort it out to relieve any stress. And, If I begin to feel anxious I face my fears as much as I can - challenging myself every day. The more I face my fears; the more independent and liberated I feel. The little things that would have depressed me before I now brush off like dust.

I've been working here and there, have a nice and familiar place to live and most importantly fantastic, wonderful friends - no longer am I isolated, trapped indoors and lonely. I am free, sociable and independent!

It feels like a rebirth, but hell am I one happy born again!

Why can't I be normal, I don't want to hide.

2009-03-15T22:55:00.001Z

On a bad day...

My smile and laughter is a cloaking device. Beneath is fear and angst. I know you can see it. Naturally I'd run and hide, but my need to be normal is forcing me to be here in front of you. My stomach nots and twists, my breathing immobilized. Analysing every moment as it passes like a picture snapped to film, I hate the photo but can't tear up the image. And so I try to rewind the film, more awkward smiles and laughter appear in an attempt to cover up what only I noticed was there. My conversation ability has run dry and I politely make an excuse to move away. I feel like I've been stabbed in the chest; it's to painful to breath. I smile at you from a distance when you glance my way, thinking “I'm sorry for not talking, I like you, I really do”.

Why can't I be normal, I don't want to hide.

Be Fearless

2009-03-07T18:42:00.000Z

This is how I feel...

http://www.abeautifulrevolution.com/blog/

Progress

2009-03-05T13:05:00.006Z

A week ago I received a letter from my Dad sent by a friend of his who'd just been released (from prison – see previous post if you don’t know why my dad is in prison). I'd been dreading this letter from the day I was told he was planning to write, I thought it'd be a book of apology and controlling advice - surprisingly it was the opposite. It's a good 14 pages of general chit-chat with a measured amount of apology and wishing he could fix everything. He's made some friends and got himself a computing job, also he's become a Listener - another name for Samaritan - he's called up at all hours to listen to inmates and seems to be enjoying it. He has been on a psychological evaluation course (waiting to hear more about that) where he'd learnt a great deal about himself, others and general psychology. Family have said that he's improved quite a bit and from reading his letter it seems so; although, I have heard that he still shows some controlling and obsessive manner but it's dramatically improved.

I'm so glad I'd waited this long to communicate with him, if I'd chosen to this time last year he would have pulled me down beyond drowning point. I'm thankful I made the choice for myself to cut contact completely - one of the wisest decisions I've ever made. Now things are fitting into place, and with his and my understanding of events we can talk without damaging each other. And if anything goes wrong I have the safety net that I am in control over what level of communication I want to maintain. Also now I have confidence to tell him to fck off whenever I need to and can recognise when he is going too far. I'm ready to start writing to him, I just finished my reply yesterday. I'm looking forward to showing him how much of a totally different person I am; I look forward to being unrecognisable in personality and looks - I feel powerful somehow.
So here's the evidence of his progress:

"I know in the past you came to see me as trying to be too controlling, and I can only say that I never intended it to be that way. I only ever felt like I was trying my best to help, but that often it felt like any help was being resisted and turned away, mainly by Mummy, although she never seemed to try very heard herself. Unfortunately, that only made me try even harder, and I can see now (with the clarity of hindsight and the more useful subjects covered in psychology) how that would have come across and felt like, I was trying to be awfully controlling. While the stress I was trying to hide and deal with over those years may have been somewhat a reason, it wasn't and can never be an excuse. I promise that in the future I'll always be on the lookout and really careful to make sure I don't ever start behaving that way again."

He does mention my Mum in a bad way, by not trying hard I think he meant in general with anything. I don't think he really knows what she had been going through since having post natal depression, throughout my bowel problems (which was incredibly hard for everyone to deal with) and until recent events over the last couple of years. She suffered from extreme anxiety and found it hard to do normal parent things, everything was made worse when under extreme pressure which Dad and his family usually caused. This I understand having suffered from anxiety, if I can make my Dad and his family understand me, then hopefully I can get them to understand how everything was for her. As for the stress he was going through in the past was only a recent discovery for me when his sister had explained how much of a hard time he had had, I was shocked and saddened to discover. I intend to learn more about his stresses and struggles over the last 19 years directly from him and hopefully make some sense of his condition (paedophilia, control, and manipulation). My objective is to learn why and how people are who they are, what environments and events cause a person to do things. I started with myself, then briefly my mother, now the big task - my Dad.

The educational adventure continues...

Odd Dreams and Friendship

2009-02-13T20:35:00.000Z

I've been having some very odd and vivid dreams this week. I've recently gone through a period of not remembering my dreams at all, so it's good to have my dream memory back again; though it freaks me out I somewhat enjoy the confusion of trying to recall if an event was real or deampt! My dreams lately have been a series of extreme oddness, and talking to others it seems I am not the only one. I could go into detail about the alignment of the moon and the stars causing it, but I really wont right now!

I was stall holder at a car-boot sale on a rather sweltering summers day. An old friend, E, I'd known throughout school was also there holding a stall with her family who owned a small collectables shop - they'd make business wherever they could. Someone had forced E to buy something from my stall. She hung her head low, refusing to talk or look at me; she was still upset after all this time. As she walked away again I shouted “I'm really sorry! I'll do anything to make it up to you! You were my best friend and I really value your friendship! Please talk to me!” Her family couldn't do anything to make her talk to me after I begged and pleaded with them to do something. Devastated, I left in tears and returned to my car...I woke up crying.
A few years ago E had moved away to Italy for a year or so. We kept in touch until she returned; we'd always meet up whenever we could, she'd always phone or text message me and we'd talk for hours, or she'd talk and I'd listen. I liked it that way, I didn't have to worry about awkward silences. We didn't have anything in common, but it didn't matter, we got on like two peas in pod (do they get on? I don't know).
Whilst she was living in Italy I'd made a new friend, K, who I thought the world of at the time, unlike E we had so much in common, yet our personalities clashed and she was somewhat a sociopath. E had a habit of texting me asking what I was up to which got quite frustrating at times, it seemed she hadn't 'got a life' and wanted to know every detail of mine by the hour. K had at one point replied to one of these messages in an abusive way - saying what I don't remember and don't think I knew she'd done it at the time. I never heard from E again. I'm not sure why I never confronted K with what she'd done, but rather ignorantly it didn't matter that I'd lost E. I spent a few weeks wanting to text or call but my social anxiety wouldn't let me, so sadly I gave in and never did. K and I's friendship didn't last much longer...
From that rather childish situation I've learnt it doesn't matter how much you have in common with someone or how “cool” they can be; it matters who has your back, who generally cares about you; who would bend over backwards for you, completely trust in you and call at 2am to ask for your help. Who would always be laughing and smiling and keep your deepest secrets to themselves... I miss E very much, she was a lovely, and genuine but very emotional person who was actually rather lonely. I'd do anything to go back in time and pay her back for being such a good friend...

Snow Day

2009-02-02T19:08:00.007Z

It's been a while since we English have had snow like this, most of us have been quite thrilled by it. Today, most public transport had been delayed or stopped completely. School's closed and commuters gave up on getting into work. It has been a rare day full of surprises and unscheduled time with family and friends; gathering for snow fights, snow man building and "my snow penis is bigger than yours" competitions. There were indeed some impressive penises erected today...
Who knows what tomorrow brings, they say things are going to get worse? Will the streets still echo with laughter, will the snow still fly? Or will everyone begin to get the snow-blues and start complaining like the Englishman so famously does?...

I love photography and having just bought a new camera this is the perfect time to test it out:

Routine of the Routine-less

2009-01-24T13:03:00.006Z

http://xkcd.com

I've been rather absent from myself lately, which means I've been keeping away from anything that requires much effort or attention. Yes, some may call it lazyness.
I feel lacking lacking in life and direction at the moment; even though I have a very clear bold, red arrow pointing the way. Perhaps I'm put off by the sheer length of it? You've got to start walking to get to your destination, but I feel too tired and weak to even begin crawl...

Meditation would be nice, if only I could find a peaceful place for it. Just as the come walkabout advert for Australia says, "Sometimes we have to get lost to find ourselves". I need to get lost.

Dear Imagination

2009-01-12T18:04:00.000Z

Dear Imagination,

I've noticed that you've become very detached and withdrawn over the last few years. Has there been any trauma perhaps that caused these personality changes? Do you want to talk? Or is it me that has changed and grown distant? I really miss how we spent days on end creating illusions only we could understand. You were my best friend, and now we only talk quarterly if anything... I feel empty without you. I wish I could have been a better companion. I miss you, if you ever feel like popping over, you know where I am. It would be a truly welcome visit.

Love,

Gemma

I hate how the rush of life sucks away our souls and feeds on which we don't value until it's missing...

Another Year - Future Fear

2009-01-02T14:33:00.006Z

Time goes so bloody fast; it seems the older you get the faster it flies, and the shorter life feels. I don't live every day as if it were my last and I don't savour every moment - I switch off/tune out. Most of the time I'm too stuck in the past, analysing it as if I were studying a book for an essay. I'm so busy writing the paper of my life that I often forget to live it sometimes. I especially hate the future, it scares me and depresses me. I try my very best to ignore it. Though, it's now the time more than ever that I need to face my fears and peer squintally-eyed into it. I'm 18 and in the eyes of many I've done nothing for the past year and a bit. I've never had a proper job, quit college last November a few weeks after starting, and left school with just a few GCSEs' C+. I feel like a failure in a way, but the amount I've been through and personally achieved in my time off has been completely life changing. I'm a stronger, wiser and more experienced person.

Last year I "met" myself. I discovered who I really am: what I love, hate, and believe in. In a non-narcissistic way I fell in love with Me - she rocks my world and makes me proud...most of the time. In the past few months I have been counting the positives about myself instead of my negatives as I'm apt to usually do. These months have been my best this year; the most relaxed and happy I've had in such a long time. Having had a few trips and falls here and there, I've managed to pick myself up much quicker than before.

Yet, through all my improvements, there is still one big muddle of things that fails me.
When it comes to going into a place everyday (be it work, college, school or something similar), such a simplicity becomes a massive hurdle. Something so average becomes a huge discomfort. I have a mental block begging me not to go in and I'm not sure why. Why can't I go into work or college? What will happen - what is there to be afraid of? The whole task becomes a tremendous depression and anxiety cycle for an unknown reason. There is some kind of invisible force that stops me from stepping out of my front door, and the times when I do manage to, it catches up with me, blocking me from the entrance of the target building. So I turn back. Running home, crying and frustrated - often making the excuse I'm psychically in pain or unwell. The excuse becomes reality and I embrace the imaginary pain - letting it consume me and revoke my guilt for not turning up. No matter how positively I think about the day ahead, and no matter how mentally prepared I make myself - nothing changes.

I think that the years of bad experience I had at school has etched this "fear" into me, where I perhaps have an underlying issue that causes this "mental block" or disability. I don't know how to fix it - and hell knows I've been looking for a way for years. This is why the future scares me: because I'm scared of failing at my own task; to not ever get further education or work wise. Now my time is running out and I've got to find the way...

I really hope this year will be a better one. Not just for me but for everyone out there. Even though I see it as some kind of fad I felt the need to make some new year resolutions this year:

To do start doing something good with my life; hopefully study and become qualified in counselling, and also begin to write my book.
To get where I aim to be by next year.
To find a social life of my own.
To have a much better year!

For many 2008 was the year to put ourselves first, sometimes selfishly but mostly necessarily. 2009 is the year to focus on others. I feel it's about completing the changes needed to make the dramatic difference in our lives that we were aiming towards. And although we are putting other things first this year we mustn't forget that we're still just as important.

Happy New Year guys! Thanks for making this blog worth it with all the comments and support - thank you!

Comunication Commenced

2008-12-24T13:01:00.009Z

So, I've posted a Christmas card to "him". It's the first time I've spoken to him in way over a year. We'll see what happens next... Ironically his Christmas card was made by the charity "Save The Children", I had a secret giggle to myself.

I'm not much much of a Christmas person, but I wish you all a very merry one!!

I've already received a toothbrush as a present...no idea what the inspiration on that one was - at least it's not second hand! I usually get odd presents from the grandma, although I think this year will be the last Christmas we'll have with her. She has just changed all the locks on the doors. She believes that the burglars that came a few months ago (see Why? post) took her keys and they break in and move things around every time she leaves the house. She's following in the footsteps of her sister Joan; it's a worrying and heartbreaking thing to see, I feel for anyone caring for those with dementia or azheimers.

Anyway, I've just made some chocolate chip and cinnamon cookies, they look a little like squashed aliens but they taste great. It's a quiet xmas eve for us - I can hear Shiv snoring loudly in the other room and I think I'll join him!

XxX

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cinnamon and Chocolate cookies:
130g white sugar
150 plain flour
100g melted butter
100g of chocolate - big chunks (fruit and nuts can of course be used)
1 egg
A teaspoon of ground cinnamon
Mush all together in a bowl and evenly place on greaseproof paper. Cook for about 15 - 20 mins at 180c

Looking for a Home

2008-12-22T15:23:00.000Z

50 year old paedophile looking for home. Needs care and attention. Hates dogs, but good with children.

"Laughter is the best medicine."

The Problem

2008-11-28T17:43:00.001Z

This is something I always find difficult to talk about, I have no problem telling anyone almost anything about my father, myself or my family, but only a handful of people know about my childhood bowel problem. Even though I no longer suffer from it I still find it embarrassing to talk about...

My Mum and I lived with my father until I was 5. The short period of my life is one of my most memorable. I'm not really sure what started my problem off; my parents were good parents - well my father's skills are questionable - but I believe they did their hardest to “toilet-train” me and I was on a good enough diet – although a fussy eater. One of my first memories of my problem is sitting in a hospital waiting-room in copious amounts of pain, incapable to pass anything. Being unable to pee was one of the most painful experiences, although it happened frequently for a number of months. I remember being given anesthetic in the end but I'm not sure what happened.

I must have been frightened of the toilet; I did anything to avoid sitting on it. I could go in my nappy but often the bowel movement was too painful for me to get upstairs in time. I didn't let anyone know this had happened either, I felt I could tell Mum, but Dad would hate dirt and mess so much I was scared he would be furious. One time I remember my nappy chafing so I went to rub my sore not realising I wasn't clean. My Dad found me just as I was doing so and dragged me upstairs, fuming at me. My parents often got frustrated with me as you would expect; my problem reducing them to tears and sometimes drastic measures (mostly Dad); frightening me with stories of what might happen if I didn't go, spanking me (which only happened a few times and not badly, but it's still enough to stick in my memory). Dad got so wound-up one night that he sat me on the toilet, turned out the light and shut the door warning me if I didn't do something he wouldn't let me out. I was sat there for what felt like hours, my legs had gone numb and I was cold. I knew that nothing would happen so I cried and begged Mum to do something but it was out of her control. I got off of the loo and sat next to the door so, when he came in it would look as if I'd escaped. It worked, but he spotted me in the end – leading to more shouting.

I found nursery hard, I couldn't tell the teachers when I needed to go. I'm not sure if they were aware of my problem but I was too shy to say anything; I didn't know these people, I didn't feel able to tell them something so intimate. Often I'd hang on to my urges for so long I'd burst into tears with the pain. Infants' school wasn't much easier; the students and teachers there were fairly racist towards me being one of the few white people among the eastern majority there. I was outcast and being quiet and cautious of my bowel problem just put me out further. I believe this started my social anxiety, although at the time I made all attempts to be social. PE was particularly hard, the fear of soiling myself and smelling made everything that should have been fun into the most unpleasant experiences I could imagine. On top of all this of course was the persistent physical pain.

Regular trips to the medical room stopped me from socialising – always being out of class isolated and singled me out from everyone. I was in too much discomfort to do anything; as the months past and the visits became more regular I was turned away and sent back to class. I hated every second of school, returning home upset and quiet. I wished I could sneak out of my bedroom window to find somewhere nice where others would be more understanding about my trouble. Wearing nappies became a burden, I just wanted to be normal. I left trails of my problem everywhere, constantly looking behind me just in case – it was truly disgusting. I wont go into details. During some playfighting with a friend my trousers came loose and I panicked remembering what I was wearing, but it was too late: she had seen my nappy and I died inside. I was wearing them until I was age 7. After that I wore three layers of knickers and packed them with toilet paper, this took my embarrassment to the extreme - having to be even more cautious.

The visits to the hospital and doctors increased, I went from medication to medication and specialist to specialist. I was given all sorts of laxatives: stool softeners, bulk-producing agents, lubricants and stimulants, suppositories and even diet pills. One of the laxatives worked in particular - Sodium picosulfate. This made me pass a stool no 5 or 6 year old should ever have to, but I felt the happiest and lightest I'd been for the first time years. The effects weren't long term, I had no bowel muscle and soon enough everything returned to “normal”. A lot of time was spent in emergency rooms which never got me anywhere and succeeded in increasing my fear of hospitals. One of the constipation specialists for children recommended the gold star system - you can guess how well that worked. I was having trouble breathing around the age of 8, doctors thought I had asthma and gave me an inhaler. Nothing was done about the constipation for a few years, I kept up the laxatives but nothing had changed.

Primary school was much better, they understood my undiagnosed problem and living with Mum had taken off extra stresses. The school nurses were more understanding although they too became fed up of me visiting every day. When I was 10 the wealth fare officers were called due to my lack of attendance. My difficulty breathing, stomach pains and consistently feeling sick got worse. We pushed the doctors harder to do something, we needed answers and now urgently needed an increase in my school attendance. After many useless visits and check-ups at the hospital I finally got referred to Guy's and St. Thomas's in central London. My new specialist knew exactly what he was doing. An x-ray had shown that the constipation had reached just below my ribs, action urgently needed to be taken. I was sent in for a bowel evacuation (an enema) under anesthetic and stayed in hospital overnight. If it had been much later I would have had slim chances of living.

I felt so very different, I could move and finally breathe! As I had no bowel muscles I still had to take laxatives from time to time so that I could stay un-constipated and give the muscles time to get stronger. Life had totally changed and I was so much happier. I could eat bigger meals and absorb nutrients – before I could only manage to eat rabbit portions, I was an unhealthy pale colour and often ill from any bug that was circulating.

I would say that living with such extreme constipation has left me scared. I hate to think about how it was back then. I've covered most of it up now - buried it deep but I know it's there, it rises to the surface in the form of tears. I feel guilty for putting so much stress and strain on my parents although it could not be helped. The constipation did my insides damage; I still have bowel pains and doctors have said my tilted and twisted uterus is a result of it. When I have any sign of constipation I can go to extreme lengths, often taking a laxative overdose due to the fear of going back to how things were. The eight years of being constipation free have been the best years of my life...

Childhood Constipation Just As Serious As Asthma

2008-11-28T14:11:00.002Z

Childhood Constipation Just As Serious As Asthma

ScienceDaily (Nov. 28, 2008) — According to new research conducted at Nationwide Children's Hospital, the burden of illness in children suffering from constipation, and the costs associated with this condition, are roughly of the same magnitude as those for asthma and attention deficit- hyperactivity disorder (ADHD).

These findings are a result of a study involving gastroenterologists and researchers at Nationwide Children's to estimate the health care utilization and cost for children with constipation in the United States. The study, available online at PubMed.gov, is slated for publication in The Journal of Pediatrics in early 2009.

Using a nationally representative survey, clinicians and researchers analyzed data of children under 18 years of age who were diagnosed with constipation or prescribed a laxative over two-consecutive years (2003 and 2004). Results showed that children with constipation used more health services than children without the condition, amounting to an additional cost of $3.9 billion each year for children with constipation. Despite this amplified cost impact and its prevalence during childhood, constipation has not received the amount of attention in public health campaigns that similarly occurring asthma and ADHD have.

"Despite being considered by many a relatively benign condition, childhood constipation has been shown to be associated with a significantly decreased quality of life," said the study's author, Carlo Di Lorenzo, MD, chief of Gastroenterology, Hepatology and Nutrition at Nationwide Children's and faculty member at The Ohio State University College of Medicine.

"The day-to-day struggle caused by constipation can often be emotionally devastating, and can also have an impact on the overall health and well-being of affected children and their families."

Researchers and clinicians hope that health care utilization and cost estimates revealed in this study can boost awareness of childhood constipation, awareness that could result in earlier treatment.

"In many cases, constipation in children can be prevented or corrected through dietary and behavioral changes," said Hayat Mousa, MD, a pediatric gastroenterologist at Nationwide Children's Hospital and a faculty member at The Ohio State University College of Medicine.

"Parents should talk to their children about their bathroom habits and make sure they are having a bowel movement at least every other day. For mild cases of constipation, prune or apple juice, high-fiber cereal, or over-the-counter softeners or laxatives made for children may help. If the problem persists, parents should seek the advice of a medical professional."

Personal Story

Car and airplane trips, holiday goodies, new toys, and unfamiliar surroundings. The holidays are a crazy time for kids, often causing their bathroom habits to get out of whack. What might sound like a minor inconvenience is actually a common, sometimes serious problem for children, and not just around the holidays. Now a new study finds childhood constipation is costing us all.

Trips to the bathroom are pretty routine for Kevin Wallace, but it wasn't always that way. A small case of constipation turned into a big problem that took money, time and effort to fix.

"It was very traumatic for both of us, because I'm pushing him to do something and he's telling me he's done it and come to find out he was doing the best he could, I just wasn't aware of the symptoms," says Linda Wallace, Kevin's mother.

And the Wallace's aren't alone. One in four children will have constipation at some point, caused by a number of things like, not eating enough fiber or fruits and vegetables, not wanting to use unfamiliar bathrooms and ignoring the urge to go while playing.

"And children have a very concrete way of thinking. If something doesn't feel good, 'I'll never do that again," says Carlo Di Lorenzo, MD at Nationwide Children's Hospital.

In a new study, Doctor Carlo Di Lorenzo and his team at Nationwide Children's Hospital found constipation can lead to serious health issues and skyrocketing costs, to the tune of nearly four billion dollars a year.* That equals the cost of treating childhood asthma or even ADHD. Di Lorenzo, who is also with the Ohio State University, says parents don't realize constipation can be just as serious. It can result in pain, problems at school, and sometimes the need for surgery.

"It's traumatic to them, then they end up with low self esteem as if something is wrong with them and it's really not," says Hayat Mousa, MD at Nationwide Children's Hospital.

The good news is, most of the time, childhood constipation can be treated with simple changes in diet and behavior, and sometimes mild medication. Now that Kevin is back in his routine, his mom checks in with him regularly, to make sure he stays that way.

Here are some tips for parents: Don't be shy, talk with you children about bowel movements just like you discuss any other bodily function. Make sure your child is going at least every other day. If you find out your child hasn't gone for three to four days, try prune or apple juice, high fiber cereal, or even a warm bath. Over the counter softeners or laxatives made for children can also help.

* Health Utilization and Cost Impact of Childhood Constipation in the United States, slated for publication in The Journal of Pediatrics, early 2009.

Anxiety and Paronia

2008-11-12T17:13:00.004Z

Making my journey from "base" to coach station:

Oh great I'm being whistled at by builders. I don't know where I'm going, I hope I can find it. I'm going to be late. I look so stupid with this trolley of a suitcase, pulling it behind me like a dead Labrador on a leash. I look like I slut barely wearing anything, I don't care I'm too hot to put more clothes on. I do care. I hate my clothes, I look like a Chav. Don't worry you've just run out of clean clothes to wear. I do worry Gemma I feel awful. I'm going to have to go through the back streets to avoid more builders. No that's a bad idea - argh someone in front walking too slow, make a decision now. Take the back streets. Oh fuck, so stupid. People swarming, it's going to get worse in a minute. Yep. I feel so stupid. Everyone's looking at me. They're barriers between me and my empty space, they wont let me pass. How incompitant I am with this suitcase, getting it stuck on every corner - bumping it into people and falling off curbs. I'm still not sure where I'm going, I've not been this way before. More people. I feel like I'm being watched on stage. I'm wearing too much make-up, this isn't who I am, I hate myself. I want to give up, I can't stand this, I want to go home. London will be much worse than this. I can't cope. Not today. My top rides up showing flesh. More whilsting and singing "I see you baby, shaking that arse". Fuck off, please. I want to dissapear. Breathe, can't breathe. Now I'm crying, great more embarrasment. Think of something else; be somewhere else. Home - oh god I hate it. Agh what if the dreaded person has been going through my draws, oh no all those condoms. I dont feel right there, I keep doing things wrong. What if the person I'm staying with hates me or dislikes me or things I do. I don't feel welcome anywhere. Now to return embarssed as to why I've returned...

Starling Murmuration

2008-11-04T18:36:00.001Z

Starlings of Brighton,
I'd like to say thank you so much for putting on such a spectacular show this evening. I know to you it was just formation practice, but to me it was a perfect performance and I thoroughly enjoyed it, I never wanted it to end! I hope you do make an appearance again soon and I hope not to miss it!
Many Thanks,
Meryine

The Last Laugh

2008-10-21T22:39:00.003+01:00

Amnesty International's Secret Policemen's Ball – What torture!

I watched this waste of time last Friday. A few of the act's weren't too terrible yet nothing side-splittingly funny nor memorable.

Alan Carr – comic celeb of the year of course performed. I admit that I found him funny when he first started out, but as time has passed his comedy has become mainstream and favored by the majority of the public. Unfortunately this majority of the public are the kind that read the Sun, Nuts and other such toss who most commonly have the intelligence of a pea. Alan did a gag about everyone having a metal illness as a fashion accessory or new trend. “Ya, I have Bi Polar, mm ya” he says putting on a posh accent and replying with, “You haven't got two personalities to split!” Get your facts right please!

The secret policemen's ball will never be anything like it was in its early days. This being an example of just how much our country has changed; the mainstream has shunted our imaginative, cunning, quick and witty comedians off the stage. Comedy is now just as manufactured as everything else; smut, celebs and recent news pretty much sums up its structure. Everything being dumbed down to fit the wider audience...

An interesting link, although from 2006 http://www.admin.ox.ac.uk/po/news/2005-06/jan/25a.shtml

Absentee

2008-10-21T15:52:00.005+01:00

I'm going insane (even more insane) without the net! I barely have anything to do at the moment, the loneliness and boredom is beginning to take its toll. I've realised that Shiv is my main hobby and without him I have nothing to occupy myself with - how sad hehe! My current projects consist of stripping wallpaper, spending money and trying to keep my cool around a certain person. On the upside, my housing benefits have been approved (bleh benefits, I never thought I'd see the day) and also I'll be getting my own internet connection very soon! I have a couple of posts in the midst of creation, I hope to be back very soon with something more interesting!

"kitty says no"

Compulsion

2008-10-12T18:51:00.003+01:00

Washing, rinsing, and more washing...

Every time I touch something a little voice says “dirty”, so I automatically obey and wash my hands. The “sensible” voice (my favourite of all the voices in my head who sees the most sense and gives good advice, not that I always take it) says, “oh please! It's not going to kill you! What about all those years you didn't always wash? Nothing bad ever happened right?” Sometimes I can wriggle out of doing it, when I do manage not to I feel like something is wrong and end up heading toward the tap. Why do I do it? I know my hands aren't actually dirty, and that nothing bad will happen by not cleaning after touching something. I don't obsess about germs – I just have to wash; like I'm held hostage by my mind, forced to do what it commands. I've been tempted to get some Detol gel to carry around when I'm out and about, but as I don't always panic about 'dirt' or germs whilst out I'm going to avoid going that far. Right now I'm just fed up with having wet hands most of the time, I don't like towels – you can guess why!

Meadow

2008-10-10T12:04:00.003+01:00

Apologies again for not being around! There is no proper internet here so I don't get hours to browse over blogs at my leisure :( But on the plus side I'm settling in here a bit more, things are going all right and everything seems much calmer now!

Well this is one way of getting my attention! She also managed to hit the shut down button!

Sad to leave!

2008-09-30T09:32:00.003+01:00

Since I've not really had the time to do much writing (or anything!) lately I thought I'd post something just to let you know I'm still alive - and as something to read if you're board at work ;) hehe

I've been up to stay with me Ma quite a few times now, but this time leaving I feel very sad to go. I've had a wonderful week here, and there really isn't anything much better than being with family and friends. On Sunday Shiv, Mum and I travelled over to Stockport in Manchester to visit a friend, Stockport also being a place where Shiv has lived and worked - it was good to finally visit the place he'd talked about so many times, then we all had a lovely meal at pizza hut hehe! On Mon, Mum had taken the day off work to spend with me, we decided to take the train over to Skipton. Had a brilliant day out there, despite the weather; we walked along the canal and into the woods, around the shops, and took a wonder around the castle too (I loves me castles). Ma said that she rarely gets to go out to have a lesurly explore with anyone other than her husband, so she really enjoyed the time she spent with me and Shiv, which makes me sadder to leave now!

...Now to travel back on the coach via Leeds, hmm it's looking pretty wet out there. Argh and then I've got to travel through London in the rushhour - wish me luck!

September - 1 Year

2008-09-14T09:00:00.001+01:00

I'm not really a fan of September, things change and get hectic in this month.

It's now been one year since Shiv and I got our own flat in Watford. On the 15th 07 we officially moved in, and on the 18th we will move out. On the 19th 07 Mum moved out of our old flat to venture up North and begin her new life...

A lot has happened this year, things have been exciting, scary, liberating, heartbreaking and educational. Right now I feel as if I've turned the page and I'm about to read a new chapter. Where do I see myself a year from here? Apart from avoiding my Dad's out of prison presence, I don't honestly know, I hate the future and absolutely hate thinking about it, so right now I'm just going to live in the present and go wherever my nose takes me (it's a special detachable nose, I often have to keep it on a leash).

I shall be moving into a room at my Dad's sister's house. This is going to be quite a challenge for me as she is somewhat the female version of him (without the paedophilia part - well not that I know of). If she does start to get involved in my life in her controlling, manipulative ways (which is most likely the cause of my Dad pressuring her to do so) I may end up raising my voice and commanding her to piss off, which is unlike me, but I will not be controlled by anyone any more! This Gemma takes no shit! However, after a few weeks or months, if I start to complain about her and my family on here, please, please remind me of that self confident, independent, no shit person I used to be?

I feel as if I'm about to take a dive. I want to do it, adrenalin rushes through me and thoughts of my achievement spur me on, the clear, blue water below is inviting; but up here I know I'm dry and warm, the vertigo makes me dizzy and my legs go limp. I'm not safe, if I make a wrong move I could get injured, the only way to move is to jump forward...

Incapable

2008-09-09T16:37:00.005+01:00

It frustrates me immensely how incapable I am at picking up the phone and dialing friends and strangers; to randomly text or email a friend to say hi, to post a comment on a blog - I'll spend hours re-writing and re-thinking it; and even to do something as simple as dropping on Entrecard, and requesting to advertise - well I've not got there yet!

I feel humiliated when having to explain to people exactly why I can't phone them, text, or email them like a normal person. "Yeah erm, I couldn't call you because, well erm, I just can't press the green button..." The times when I do have the guts to explain my anxiety I pray they be sympathetic and don't think me as some kind of weirdo using it as an excuse for being a crap friend. More often than not I hear the worst possible reply I could, "Ah I think the depression, PTSD and anxiety stuff is a load of bullshit. You'll be fine, just get over it." This kind of response crushes me, no matter how long or how well I've known them I feel like cutting all contact to find someone who does understand me; someone who doesn't make me feel like I'm stupid, inadequate and weird. My family, (the "manipulative, controlling, two faced, self-centered, deluded, elitist, hypocritical, close-minded" Father's side - thanks to Shiv for help with the descriptions) they have a terrible understanding, I'm constantly expected to perform tasks I struggle with, my family somehow forget that I've rarely ever been able make phone calls, speak to people, etc,. Each time I speak to them, something comes up like, "Why can't you just go up to them and ask them? Why don't you go to college and do a full time course? Would you call them, I'm sure they'd be able to help you, do it for me, please?" and every time I'm asked something like this, I have to explain AGAIN why I can't do it, with every explanation, I shrink a little more inside.

When it comes to phoning someone or messaging them (text, email, comment, IM) my anxiety rises so high that I give up with the idea and think of some other excuse not to, often this makes the situation and underlying anxiety worse, so I end up tying myself into a self-loathing cycle where I cut myself off from everybody and everything for a couple of days, abusing myself physically and mentally.

As I've said before, my social anxiety is becoming increasingly better. I can now pick up the phone when it rings, I can speak to people confidently and enthusiastically, keeping conversation flowing (most of the time, but not always with ease), I can go out alone confidently, and in most cases I can text, email, and IM - but only when I have reason to (other than saying hello) and I can call people when I have been asked/expected to, yet I''d always prefer to see them in person, it's so much easier. No matter how many times I've stood up to face my fears, I still find facing and thinking about them as hard as it's ever been.

The big question is why am I anxious, what is the worst that can happen? Everybody else manages fine, why not me? I look at a common situation I find myself in, such as ringing a friend to see how she's doing; here are my common anxieties: 1# What if this is the wrong time to call her? 2# What if I stumble over my words? 3# What if she doesn't want to speak to me, what if she doesn't like me? 4# What if we go quiet on the phone? Here are my counter-acting, resolution thoughts: 1# She would tell me and ring me at a more convenient time. 2# So what, everybody does, make a joke of it. 3# Why? How long have you know her? 4# Say it's been nice talking, we should catch up another time...The list goes on. Sometimes I just go for it, I push myself to dial, text, comment, IM, etc, and then it's all over with, but the times when I don't, I just can't do it, I have a “mental block” – like a wall between me and the communication device or person. When anxious and worked up about communicating, I feel embarrassed and moronic, why should I inflict my worthless, helpless self on anyone? But I don't know why I feel like this when I know the truth, I become utterly incapable. So I'm sorry friends, as you rarely hear from me, I am always here and I do honestly care about you. Maybe one day I really will get over it...

I found this poem yesterday that I had written a few years ago, admittedly it's not a very good one. I had written it about my only school friend. She, as was I going through some rough times, I was doing everything I could to cheer her up and help, yet I couldn't be at school as much as I should have for her. After being there as much as I could out of school, something made her turn against me, spreading rumors and lying endlessly. This destroyed me, being selectively mute she was all I really had (not that I knew anything about selective mutism or social anxiety at the time). I felt like a complete loner again - being totally incapable to make new friends and keep the ones I had. Looking back now reminds me just how much I've changed and how awful it felt to be in the grips of selective mutism.

Loner

Life's hard,
Even harder if you don’t feel loved.
Especially by those you’ve given so much of it too.
To give but to not receive,
Is the most painful thing indeed.
You lose your purpose,
Your will
Your life.

In a corner I sit and stare,
But really I'm wishing someone would talk to me.
I’m scared of being alone,
Without a friend by my side,
Someone to take my hand through,
The good,
The bad,
The wild.

I know I’m a terrible friend,
It’s a place I lack experience.
Always afraid to speak unless spoken to,
Wanting to run and hide.
Friends come along, get bored and move on.
For I’ve been hurt so many times,
Again I’m used.
Again I’m empty
Again I’m alone

I’m sorry I couldn’t always be there,
For many reasons you know,
But the thought never crossed your mind,
To be a friend and comfort me at that time.
Our conversations are always short now,
I may as well be invisible,
It’s lost,
It’s gone,
It’s dead.

Somersault - Zero 7

2008-09-05T13:00:00.001+01:00

I love this song, recently it's been going over in my head. Such lovely lyrics, I thought I should share them...

You're the prince to my ballerina
You feed other people's parking meters
You encourage the eating of ice cream
You would somersault in sand with me

You talk to loners, you ask how's your week
You give love to all and give love to me
You're obsessed with hiding the sticks and stones
When I fear the unknown
You feel like home, you feel like home

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet, and you were sound
You saved me

You're the warmth in my summer breeze
You're the ivory to my ebony keys
You would share your last jelly bean
You would somersault in sand with me

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
You saved me

You put my feet back on the ground
Did you know you brought me around
You were sweet and you were sound
See I had shrunk yet still you wore me around
And 'round and 'round