Tuesday 21 December 2010

Dyslexia and alphabet blindness..my struggle and secret

It has only been through the process of my bdd cbt that I found out that I had been suffering a form of dyslexia all my life. One of the key factors of bdd therapy is to find out what it is in your childhood that triggered it off. When I was 7 I was put in a special class because I was unable to join my writing up and I still can not do it today. I was also teased for writing my letters the wrong way..for example my S starts at the bottom. Later, when I was about 12, I was stuck in a special class for my Maths.

Reading has never been a big issue but that is because I pushed myself to read; it was decided, early on in my life, that I was not worthy of reading certain books, and even now I fear certain novels. When I do pick them up and read them I wonder what all the fuss was about. I will still come across words I do not understand but now I can look them up on line...I may not be able to pronounce them. My spelling has always been awful. Thank the humanist spirit for spell check! Grammar goes over my head...I still do not get it and gave up trying to ages ago. Tell me what a verb is 100 times and I will forget in a minute.

When I attempt my prose and poetry it is messed up by this........... dot dot dot...that will be because I do not understand where a coma should go...or a ; or a full stop.

I am lucky in that my CBT therapist was, in his past life, an educational psychologist. He stumbled on my problem by accident; after all I was there for chronic depression and bdd. He told me, about two months after meeting me that I was a very angry person....he asked me what made me angry so I gave my alphabet blindness example. I told him that if there is a certain CD or Film that I want to buy in HMV and it begins with say 'R', I will become very frustrated. I can count in, like A, B, C, D etc but once I get lost I start steaming off. I can say my alphabet, A to Z, but I can not form it in the middle...not even after E.

I was in Waterstones just yesterday; I was looking for 3 authors and it took me 35mins. I could feel myself getting frustrated and all the letters started to skew. The problem is if you go up and ask, 'where will I find Philip K Dick' you will get back...under D!..derrr..

He said to me that if I had sat in front of him, in his past role, he would diagnose me with dyslexia. I also told him about my ability to use my left hand to do things I should not be able to....play pool is one.

The refreshing thing for me is that he himself suffers exactly as I do...he is this quite brilliant Psychologist but has alphabet blindness and the other problems that I have. I am still worried about things...like application forms etc. Huge books put fear in me but I just read 700 pages in one week so I can do it. There were moments where I was frustrated but I got over them. So my bdd may have been born from this torment I received at School....teachers knew nothing of dyslexia in the 1970's. So the humiliation eat away at me.

I am as well read as anyone I know now....but it took me until the age of 45 to find out that block I had in my head.....and it makes me more proud that I picked up books, when young, and read them. Education in a class room is not what we all need....in some cases it can ruin your life and cost you so much. I kind of know that.

T Roberts London Dec 2010

Sunday 21 November 2010

Christmas is coming...close the world out..

I spent the last 5 Christmas's on my own, and considering my birthday falls the day before, on Christmas Eve, this will be 5 birthdays alone. I find this time of year difficult, like lots if people do, maybe doubly so because I get a year older....the images of Christmas are quite hard to cope with at times because it is not something I know...being around family and friends. Even when was working I tended to avoid all the pre Christmas stuff like Parties because of my bdd and my fear of being around people.

My therapy is at a crucial stage now...we are starting to really dig in the dirt of my childhood and teen years...I admit that I find the going very tough...we do imaging work so it can be very distressing.

I am trying very hard to get a job right now but no one will give me a chance...as soon as they know I have this appointment weekly the door is shut on me....that is part of life and having a mental health problem though; if someone accepted me as I was I am quite sure I would pass out there and then. The vast majority of people in any walk of life that you meet treat you very differently once they find out your history...and I do mean the vast majority of people.

I have banged on about it so many times in the past but it is perfectly acceptable in the UK to have a drug habit or a drink habit...that is part of society now and is accepted and quite cool...quite trendy...mention anything depression based and you are a fucking fruit cake. So to this end I do not mind living in my isolated bubble because I do not have to explain myself to anyone....

I have been hanging around twitter for a while now and the realisation that it is actually quite shit is starting to hit home...I have taken to reading again...I will go through phases where I read a book per week and then nothing for months....currently I am reading 1984...what a book!!!..I am nearly 46 and have never opened it before....this is a 'thought crime'!!...my reading has helped calm my mind, for sure, so I shall try and keep it up.

I need all my coping strategy in the next 6 weeks or so to survive this time of the year....I kind of lock myself in 3 or 4 days before Christmas and don't go out at all....it all becomes a bit too much. If I stick by my rules and routine I will be fine...

T A Roberts London Nov 2010.

Thursday 11 November 2010

In my own world


This will read odd to the outside world but my deep depression and social isolation made me invent a world inside my head...and within that world is a kind female who understands me and accepts me despite my affliction.

It is not a fantasy world, as such, but more a comfort; everyone will fantasize but this is stronger. I know it is born from my longing to be accepted or liked, loved etc. 

Social isolation is abnormal and so is not having any connection with any other people; I feel a pang of envy anytime I do see people together in groups....to have that security, from friendship, must be a nice feeling....to see couples doubles the pang.

My biggest fear, normally brought on during the depths of a bad depressive episode, is that I will die in my flat and no one will know or find out....I will be consumed by flies; this feeling keeps me alive when at my worst. The need to be ‘known’ or missed is an odd one but we all live to feel that.

My cut off from ‘people’ and relationships has been such a long one that I am rather numb to effects; sex was years ago, a memory I can recall now and then. I think there is a truth though when people say that sex is more important when you are not getting it.

I have missed out on many things because of this illness....it has cost me more than I could ever add up; It has cost me seeing places and doing so many things.

So the down side to my invented company is that she is not real...she is very kind, too kind in fact, and no not in any sexual way....she is kind as a person and kind to me and this is not a feeling I have ever known. Each time I think of her the desolate reality kicks in that she doesn’t exist and that I am here alone...talking to walls, which I have done for about 8 years. 

Depression is a monster....I can accept BDD, but depression is a beast. It has been with me for so long that I doubt it will ever go fully....I just hope I have not missed too much.

TR Nov/2010

Saturday 25 September 2010

So what's BDD then?..

If, and it is very rare, I admit to my BDD face to face, the first question I get asked is, 'what's that then?'

After a brief explanation, the  person who asked will say something like, 'Oh everyone worries about their appearance, I do everyday'. Which then means one goes on the defensive, and has to go off 'into one', trying to validate it. Which is why I tend not to ever mention it.

The easiest way to explain BDD is to say it runs your life for you; it pretty much makes every decision for you during your every waking hour. Where you go, how long you go for, if you go at all....this will be preceded by 100s of times checking mirrors; and then when you do get out, one simple reflection of yourself that does not look quite right can send you into panic overdrive, and back home you will go.

My Psychologist thinks it is very similar to OCD, because the OCD is in mirror checking, but that it is more deep seated than a habit  you need to kick. The belief is that some sort of trauma set this off way back in your childhood. I can remember as far back as 9 or 10, being afraid of my naked self. When I got to 15 this became a terror.

Look, with or without BDD, I am not a pretty boy...that I can live with..I am 5ft 8 and very slim. Now at 46, my GP will say, wow, you are in good shape; my weight is fine, at the moment, and as a GP he will compare me to other 46 year olds...most who meet me think I am 38 tops, so it is not all bad. But that is all the simplistic stuff....the odd thing is I have not had a problem being bald, or a slaphead as I like to say. When it started to go I shaved it all off....nothing worse then a man who clings on. Its like a needy lover!!!

So you have to get past the obvious; not being a pretty boy etc, because the roots to BDD are way deeper than all that; the defect is imaginary but I believe in it more then I have ever believed in anything. So the CBT takes time to work. I am setting myself tasks and trying my best to see them through. I am trying to do stuff that I like to do...self compassion is an essential part of recovering from a mental illness; it is a weird concept, doing stuff for me, being nice to me, that I was recently taught in group therapy....its all a slow up hill road but I am doing my best and getting on with it...

London September 2010

Wednesday 22 September 2010

Mental Health Discrimination

The DWP really do believe that an employer will give you a chance if you admit to having a mental health difficulty; what deluded planet do they live on? When you consider that society itself, everyday people, give you a very wide birth, why do the government think that someone will employ you?

Me, I am a multi skilled handyman...I was sacked recently and this is directly linked to my mental health problems. I do not fit in the box that the government want me to...I have worked all through my problems but not one of my employers has given me the chance to go and seek treatment; and what is my treatment? It is one session of CBT per week, which last one hour!! so I am hardly asking for much.

I have spoken to my mental health professionals recently and all agree that this country gives you no sympathy as soon as you come out of the mental health closet. Celebrities going to rehab are cool though!

I can not sue over my sacking, because I do not have the money to do so, and it is not something you can do on legal aid. I am not someone who is going to be a risk to anyone...I have body dysmorphia and depression, so the most radical thing I will ever do is take a nap and hide!!!!!

There is a really good example of double standards going on in the media at the moment; Ricky Hatton gets caught taking cocaine...checks into a rehab unit and is being treated for depression. Well if we all could afford the treatment in The Priory we would all go...if I go into a rehab unit I will be in a space with crack heads and people who wish to do you harm...I know, I have been there.

There is no point in my getting angry with the employers when 99.9% of people who know you have a problem will give you a very wide birth...this is is why, in my life, I have been left to fend for myself. I have no moral support at all...and when I say none, I mean none. As I stated before, it is even harder being a man in this situation..women tend to judge you even quicker. In fact the thing that shocks me most is the attitude of women when they find out you have an 'issue'.

There is little point in being bitter about it but it really does make me smile when you hear the 'wolly' brigade saying that there is a way back into work....I am lucky, in that I have only just lost my job, but it is about the 4th one I have lost due to the same problem. Those who have been out for years and years stand little or no chance at all.

For years and years I have had to hide and lie about my disorder; I lie about the marks on my arms...what kind of world makes me do that?..a world of people who judge and discriminate. And when I sit in a group of like minds, the stark reality is that I am not alone....this country gave up the ability to care years ago. I suppose this is why I do a blog...I am not going to fucking hide anymore or lie about what it is that has blighted me since I was 15....well that is 30 years and there is a story to tell there somewhere.

September 2010

Monday 20 September 2010

Pictures (poem)

Asking and waiting; difficult questions and skewed mirrors             
presented images of me that were never quite right; always fragile, always close to shattering.

      
Marks on arms forever there and pictures of you forever             
imprinted on a mind so close to insanity but closer to utopia; same thing when you think about it.          
          
Beautiful stars show me from what we are made and I am        
in a poetic slum where words are stolen and shit smells of flowers.          
             
Glazed eyes reflect suburban sunsets and beautiful stories yet to be told;        
      
Butterfly kisses and wet underwear confirmation; playground bully and bedroom princess; salvage what you can and wake upon brilliant days and try again; strive to be the worst because there is soul in failure.   

          
Urinate in a font and shed tears for hair you will never stroke; see her neck and cry a bucket load...             
             
You are a hidden gem amongst the multitude of afflicted ordinary;       
crunch on a tasteless salad because the Government told you too   
and if your shit comes out green then blame it on the boogie.       
       
Kitchen sinks were never designed for doing the dishes; what a ridiculous notion; they act as a metaphor for dissatisfied couples;  

   
Fairy Liquid sex and occasional spilt wine; letters never sent to friends who lay dormant.       
       
English rose has been replaced by the she man.          
             
I have never been a pretty boy but my path has been more exciting than the blessed.     
 

My fucks achieved with hard work and musing; a well earned cum load feels better than the instant gratification of a Friday night take away.
 
Button pushing is my speciality; I know the route to all that is wrong but oh so right.
 
Class war in the bedroom never dragged me down but her knickers are up and
down like the dow jones. Instability is my kind of economy.           
             
Asking and waiting; difficult questions and skewed mirrors  
presented images of me that were never quite right, always fragile  
always close to shattering.


Marks on arms  forever there and pictures of you forever imprinted on  
a mind so close to insanity but closer to utopia..
 
..same thing when you think about it.             
             
 Danski (c) 2010       (Danski is the pen name of Tim Roberts)  

BDD and a new road I walked down

I found a BDD support group via Rethink, the mental health charity, which takes place at The Priory every month. I received an email, inviting me to attend, if I wanted, on Friday. I did not have time to think about it so I went on Sunday.

I will never discuss what other people said, or name them; this is the trust you enter into; but I will say that it was one of the most rewarding things I have done. Yes we all need CBT, or pills, and need the help of professionals, but when you meet a group of people who all come out with stuff you can relate to, its really quite liberating.

So many of the things that were said had me thinking, 'yes I have felt that', and it gives a validation to the condition, that this is not some passing fad.

We still have a media who mock mental health, yet we live in a country that is quite ill. Most people you meet will tell you to pull yourself together, and that is only if you get to the point of sharing your problem, which I would guess 99% of us don't. Apart from really close family I have lived my issues out on my own. Like Shirley Valentine, I talk to walls about my problems. With that in mind, it was refreshing to sit in a room with like minds; I was going to say nice, but there is nothing nice about this.

This has dictated how I have lived my entire adult life; I am angry that my diagnosis came so late but relieved that it now all makes sense. The depression side of it still hits home from time to time, but I do hope that self harm will be a thing of the past, forever! I never want to be an in patient ever again.

I am 7 months in to my CBT, which is hard core, and very difficult, so this group will be a valuable edition. I may always be BDD, but I need, and want, the tools to be able to cope with it. I will never get my years back, but I may be able to live the rest of them ok(ish). Yes I would like to go back and enjoy being a teen and not have this monster eating my head, but that is not going to happen. Finding a support group is the best thing that has happened for a while, so I am thankful to it and it will do for now.

London September 2010

Sunday 19 September 2010

Body Dysmorphic Disorder...The Impossible List

I have this list that my psychologist made me do; it is a 1 to 15 of the things I find hardest to do, as someone who suffers with Body Dysmorphic Disorder. I did not have to think about the list and it took me seconds to compile.

When I look at it, it tells me why I am so fucking isolated; One of them is meeting new people and one of them is meeting up with people I know etc. The idea of going into a group of people is really tough, so the things I have done with the 'protest the pope' group were a major challenge. I am happy I went though with it and it helps me grow more confident.

I have been invited into a group at The Priory; a few people get together for a couple of hours every 3rd Sunday of each month to discuss how BDD affects their lives. I am a bit anti group, in that sense, because of the stigma attached to it, but I will give it a go.

I do wish that I could reach out more, and be more confident, but the fear is so great; it has nothing to do with rejection, everyone will have to suffer rejection at some point. It is a fear far, far greater. I am going to try and do away with at least two of the mirrors I have in my flat...again if you say to someone that you have a 'thing' for mirrors, they will say you are vain....really this is so ridiculous. A world without mirrors would be a fabulous place.

One day I will, I hope, be able to go about my world and not have to worry about things so much. The CBT I am doing is interesting; it studies schema's; emotions that were wedged into you as a young child. I faced awful bullying at school. I suffer with dyslexia, which was not picked up on in a 70's state school. No I was just placed in what they all called the stupid class. The teachers were nothing short of thugs. That is the issue; when you mention bullying you imagine a group of boys pointing at you and calling you names....yes this did happen but the teachers were no better.

Like I said, it is very difficult being a man and talking about these things; because I have been single and sexless for so many years I used to worry that this will turn any woman against me; the fact that I admit my problem and write about it. Maybe I am right but this is me and let's face it, if you are going to accept me, and if I am going to accept me, I have to confront it. And it is part of me so if someone will not give me a chance in this world, they will not be worth knowing anyway. Under all this, I am a rather fabulous person; its just getting to that point that takes some digging.

London September 2010

Saturday 18 September 2010

Body Dysmorphic Disorder..a short diary

I am 45, male, and have lived with body issues all my adult life, and most of my childhood as well.

Many years ago, well 12 to be exact, the mental health system did not know what to do with me, so it threw me in an acute ward and gave me 12 ect(electric shock) treatments. It took until a year ago for someone to diagnose me correctly, and now I am starting to live!

I have managed my life around this condition; I have not shirked work but it has cost me most of what other people take for granted; Love, friends, a social life and much much more.

If you tell anyone what your problem is they will either run or tell you to pull yourself together ,after all, I am a man!! Like that has got anything to do with it!!!! But being a man does make the judges judge more.

A woman will say, but hey, you don't look so bad...I swear, this is a regular.

If I go out, I have to plan in advance and make lots of adjustments. Mirrors and reflections are all over the place, so it is hard to escape. If I stand in a packed Tube train, as far as I am concerned I look nothing like anyone else in that space. I don't mean in terms of shape, colour, age etc; I mean I feel like there is no one else on this planet who has my shape, my faults, my look.

I have had to manage self harm most of my adult life; burning my arms and od's; though this is well under control now and years since I did anything bad. There was one occasion when I did try to end the pain, 12 years ago. I could not live with  the feelings anymore.

Now I try to manage it best I can; I write my rather ugly poetry; I do very extreme CBT therapy, weekly. It is a struggle but I do it all alone. It is quite tough never to have anyone to talk to; when I say no one, I mean no one. I live in isolation as far as friends are concerned. It is a bit late, when 45, to go back and make long lasting mates who you can lean on.

I love cinema, so I go and to the theatre; I can handle this kind of thing but in small doses. I have missed out on what life has to offer but I have seen things from a different angle as well. Most simple things, that people do, go shopping etc, is a major trauma for me, when at my worst; walking over a crowded room..hell!

I want to write about this condition because it is not understood; My depression is much much better now and I no longer take any pills. Most think that BDD  is vanity....well its the other end of the scale. I will write more when I have some more thoughts about it..Tim

London September 2010