Befriending Workshop

I'm a member of a group called Mental Health Links (an inter-denominational group consisting of representatives from the local Christian churches). Links are the steering committee for the Spiritual Journeying group. We were invited to attend a 'Befriending Workshop' in Battersea today, (organised by the Association for Pastoral Care in Mental Health) to talk about the Spiritual Journeying group as a successful befriending model. I was the only Link available and was very happy to put a few words together and go along.

The workshop was due to begin at 10 am with coffee. I hooked up the SatNav and left home around 8 am. There were no holdups and I arrived at 9 am. I'd thought about parking in Battersea park, but happily there was room to park (free) in the street almost outside the venue.

It was a gorgeous morning: blue sky and golden sunshine highlighting the delicate shades of spring green. I went for a walk in the park, marvelling as always at the tranquility and beauty of our parks right in the heart of such a bustling capital city. I noticed what I thought was a group of heron statues and strolled closer, to discover they weren't statues at all! Then I found a bench in the sunshine and sat meditating for a while. It put me in a very mellow mood for the workshop.

All Saints Church doesn't look much like a church from the outside and inside there were some decidely eclectic decor choices - a gothic chandelier dangling low in the open space, quite fitting with the elaborately carved wooden framed settee and matching chair stood to one side of the doorway, yet contrasting with the huge modern art canvases; a large modern glass-fronted display cabinet all along one wall brimful of souvenirs and emblems of other cultures and nationalities, including a set of russian dolls, buddha statuettes, hindu gods - not to mention a copy of the Bhagavad-Gita nestling comfortably beside a Bible. All in all, it made a very powerful statement.

Richard, the facilitator for the day, began by inviting us to break into small groups and come up with definitions for 'friendship' and 'befriending' before we heard about a successful befriending scheme which has been operating in Merton and surrounding areas for over 10 years. Then we heard from the Battersea Befriending Network, and just before lunch it was my turn to speak about Spiritual Journeying group. Afterwards I fielded a few questions.

I was made to feel welcome and comfortable chatting with people over lunch, being invited to submit an article for the APCMH newsletter, and felt very pleased with how the day had gone as I drove home. By now traffic had built up and it took me as long to travel the first couple of miles from Battersea to Chelsea as it did to travel the remaining 30 odd miles home.

Experiment with Light... and salmon fishcakes

Well my lovelies, I'm going away for a residential weekend with the Religious Society of Friends (you probably know them as the Quakers). It's an 'Experiment with Light' weekend, trying to experience the Light as early Friends did, supposedly a very powerful experience. If nothing else, the surroundings are beautiful - it's up in Cumbria.

Yesterday I went to the Spiritual Journeying group. It wasn't my turn to lead, I could sit back and relax - very pleasant. One of my colleagues there commented on how the peace and joy I've found through connecting with the inner light is radiating from me. It's working then! Hopefully I'll have some more to share on the subject upon my return.

Dinner today was also an experiment - home-made salmon, dill and spring onion fish-cakes. I was making it up as I went along and the resulting mixture was perhaps a little sloppy, not lending itself completely to the perfect shaping I was looking for. Surprisingly bland, too - but plenty of tomato ketchup soon improved things on that score. Served with oven-roast sweet pepper and petits pois. I got the idea from an item I saw on a menu yesterday. A friend took me out for a meal at Bluebeckers in Chobham, and from there we drove on to Woking intending to see the film 'Dear John'. Unfortunately it was being screened in the smallest theatre and despite getting there three quarters of an hour early, all seats were sold. That was a big surprise! Normally we go on a Monday night when tickets are only £5 each, despite which the place is often almost empty. I guess Wednesday night attracts the 'Orange Wednesday' bargain-hunters.

Came back home and watched a DVD I'd borrowed from the library: 'A Serious Man'. I really, really, REALLY didn't get it one little bit ... sat through the whole film waiting to understand what the opening scene was all about and how it fitted into the rest ... and couldn't quite believe it when the titles started rolling, leaving me with the sense that the film had been abandoned halfway through. Hmmm... definitely not one of my better choices.

Focusing on the positive

Yesterday's Spiritual Journeying meeting went extremely well, I'm pleased to report. There were 13 attendees and every single one joined in the conversation. It was stimulating and enjoyable (and for me, an answered prayer).

Dinner tonight was also very enjoyable - not to mention colourful and healthy. Salmon cooked in a foil parcel with olive oil, lemon juice, vine-ripened tomatoes and red sweet pepper, served with potatoes and courgettes oven-roasted in olive oil and fresh broccoli. It made up for a wasted afternoon, but I won't go into that. Let's focus on the positive.

Beautiful Sunset

This morning I was getting together the material I need to facilitate tonight's 'Spiritual Journeying' group session on 'Metaphors for Life'. The weather was deceptive, the clear blue sky and sunshine looked lovely through the window from my cosy study. It wasn't until I caught the bus down to my hairdressing appointment I discovered just how cold it was!

I've now taken the first steps towards getting back to work. I've applied for a part-time secretarial job and visited the local Jobcentre.

Meanwhile the diet wandered off track over the weekend but tomorrow is another day - and that glorious red sky holds a lot of promise.

Corduroy Corner

Back in November last year I received an invitation to join a national medical research project. Involving 500,000 people aged 40 – 69 from all around the UK, “UK Biobank” has been set up to support a diverse range of research intended to improve the prevention, diagnosis and treatment of illness, and the promotion of health throughout society.

Taking part involves a single visit of about 90 minutes to the local UK Biobank Assessment Centre where you first of all sit in front of a computer screen and answer some questions on health and lifestyle, then move around the centre from one standard medical test to another – providing blood and urine samples, being weighed and measured and having your relevant medical history taken along with a record of any prescription or over-the-counter drugs you take on a regular basis.

I agreed to join the study and my appointment was on 21st January, in Reading (about 20 miles from the Wingfield Ward). I was given special leave to go (escorted by a friend).

It seems the invitations were sent out by postcode area, and I found myself sat between a small group of people from my neighbourhood, including a lady I knew from when we served together as School Governors back in the mid to late 1980’s. Besides her and myself, there were three men of similar age, height and build, all wearing similar clothes (corduroy trousers, a casual shirt and woollen jumper). She was chatting with a couple of these men and that was how I discovered they all lived within a stone’s throw of me.

(Having noted the corduroy trousers there, I thought no more of it until today’s meeting of the Spirituality Project group, where once again I found myself sat beside another man of that ‘certain age’ where corduroy trousers, a casual shirt and woollen jumper are the fashion choice). I’m starting to seriously consider whether I need to rush out and buy Vic some cords so that he can get in the spirit of the neighbourhood.

Frustration in the morning, delight later

On 16th September I applied for my driving licence to be renewed (a previous application in August was unsuccessful as it was less than three months since the relapse). I phoned the DVLA to enquire into progress today and was advised that as the medical questionnaire sent out to Dr Y_ on the 1st October had not been returned, a further form was sent on 29th October. I penned a letter to Dr Y_ expressing my anger and frustration at the delay and hand-delivered it. Then I bought some Thornton’s ‘Winter Choccies’ for some self-indulgent comfort eating and went to see the film ‘High School Musical 3’. I thought it would be a real ‘feelgood’ movie. Disappointingly it didn’t do a lot for me.

In the evening I attended the Wholeness through Spirituality meeting – this was the third time the group has been held, but the first time I’ve been able to attend as the other meetings clashed with dance classes. Tonight Stuart was facilitating, and the theme was Rain. I was delighted to find somebody I met earlier in the year to whom I’d sent an invitation had come along with her mother.

June Update

As I type this, it is over a month since I last logged a journal entry so without further ado, here are the highlights from the last week in June.
Thursday 26th: Vic departed on his trusty steed (the BMW F650 CS) to meet up with work colleagues for the trek down to Blois in France for a few days. Meanwhile arrangements were in hand for me to have some help with getting my car MoT tested and with the allotment (ripping up the old paths and planting out some seedlings I’ve been bringing on in the potting shed). Then it was dinner, shower and change to go to dance class. A full day, and very satisfying.
Friday 27th: Up early and over the allotment again to finish relaying the new paths, do some weeding and plant out some more seedlings. All looking good! Dinner included the fruits of my labours (sugar snap peas and strawberries for dessert), then on to watch the Chronicles of Narnia film, Prince Caspian. I think the young lady in the box office must have been having a private joke: the tickets gave allocated seat numbers; there weren't many people in the theatre, and almost all of us were sat side by side in one row! It was, shall we say, a cosy arrangement.
Saturday 28th: A friend took me over to pick up the car with it’s new MOT certificate and we gave it a long run down to Dover – couldn’t see France today owing to the heat haze. Walked around Dover castle, had lunch in the Naafi then walked along the seafront – there was a large group of people swimming round the harbour.
Sunday 29th: I went to church in the morning and tried to write down the words members of the congregation were bringing in the Spirit – there were many of them, including a beautiful love song to the Lord. Something in the sermon really caught my attention and set me thinking, seeming (in my mind) to be addressed to me.

Vic returned safely some time after midnight. This may seem unremarkable to the reader. However, my father was one of ten siblings, and his youngest brother (Ian) was killed in a motorcycle accident in France, as was one of his nephews (also named Ian), as was one of my ex-boyfriends (named Nigel). At some point in life my mind had processed the conclusion that motorcycling in France is not a safe activity but obviously I hadn’t wanted to influence Vic’s decision prior to the event by burdening him with my fears, so had kept all this to myself. Now though, the thoughts or feelings I had been suppressing welled up within me, making it difficult to sleep peacefully. In between snatches of sleep, bizarre thoughts troubled me.

Monday 30th
I was due to host a meeting about the proposed Wholeness through Spirituality group, but sensing that I was in the throes of another relapse in mental health, I passed on the work I had done towards creating an agenda and managed to get word out to change the venue and proceed without me. I coped with Monday night Dance class only with a little help from my friend.

Reflecting on a challenging week

Tuesday
It was pouring with rain Tuesday morning, yet even so I enjoyed the walk to a meeting in connection with the ‘Wholeness Through Spirituality’ project. This project is about setting up a support group:

to provide a safe place for people to explore and express aspects of their lives and beliefs which have value and meaning, and which give them some sense of purpose and hope.

Previously I had volunteered to draft 5 session plans, and took along the work I had done in this respect. I’ve been reading a book, ‘Encountering the Sacred in Psychotherapy’ which talks about the use of metaphors in speaking of our lives, and I had taken Metaphors as the overall theme for the 5 sessions, breaking it down into:-

Session 1: ‘Metaphors for life’ (eg. ‘Life is a journey’, ‘life is a learning experience’, ‘life is a battle’, etc)
Session 2: ‘personal metaphors’ (eg. if you consider life is a game of chess, are you a pawn or a grand Master?; do you ‘clam up’? Do you think you’re an egg – cracking up? etc.)
Session 3: ‘metaphors for the world’ (eg. the world’s your oyster)
Session 4: ‘metaphors for God’
Session 5: ‘metaphors for death’.

At the meeting I talked through the detailed plan for Session 1, then invited feedback. In retrospect, it would have been wise to offer the feedback up for general discussion. Instead, I answered each comment myself – which shut down the group process and ultimately undermined the group dynamic. Reflecting back on the meeting later, I realised I’d been quite defensive. One person who has vast experience in devising and presenting courses felt that the icebreaker game was too risky – (I’d assigned 7 minutes to learning names, and with a view to getting people comfortable with hearing their own voice speak out loud in the group plus to familiarise ourselves with each others’ names, I’d decided we would toss a juggling ball to each other, calling out our own name as we tossed the ball initially, then switching after several minutes to calling out the name of the person you toss it to) she felt people might feel unduly anxious about fumbling and dropping the ball. She also felt that the word ‘metaphor’ might put people off, and wanted to substitute the word ‘images’. (When I’d been preparing the session plan and come up with the basic idea, I’d googled ‘Metaphors for life’ and found the following site very helpful in informing the work I was doing:
http://mentalhealth.about.com/cs/selfhelp/a/metaphors.htm)
She had concerns about where the conversations might go. I deflected the things I was hearing by suggesting that they were coming from her fear of not being in control – which I had intended as a helpful reflection! Meanwhile the other group members sat quiet, looking on. The person unofficially chairing the meeting gathered the reins to gently move things on, but the lady who had been challenging the session plan looked at me and asked “Do you mind if we tweak it?” I didn’t answer immediately – surprised to discover I DID mind. Perhaps my answer could have been "'We' don't feel it needs tweaking", said with a smile (yet normally when I put an idea forward, I’m very happy for it to be ‘tweaked’ until everyone is content). I remembered that this lady had wanted to ‘tweak’ the ‘Growing in Awareness and Practice’ training course that had been presented to us by an excellent trainer commissioned by the local Mental Health NHS Trust. I guess it is sometimes hard for us to trust another’s expertise in a field we consider our own. After a brief pause I concluded, “I’ll leave that question asked and unanswered for now”. When I tuned in to my body, I realised my heart-rate had increased slightly from the conflict.

The walk back home did me good – a ‘cooling off’ period and an opportunity for prayer. One of the beauties of prayer is that it allows me to hear what I’m thinking without risking damaging a relationship. As sometimes happens, I was surprised when I opened my mouth and started praying, to hear some of the stuff going on inside that I hadn’t been consciously aware of. For example, I hadn’t realised I had been seeing the project as a way of establishing a place for myself at the centre of something; that I had been looking on it as a way of giving myself significance. I was surprised to recognise I’d felt angry about the ‘Do you mind if we tweak it?’ question – specifically about the pronoun, what my mother would have called ‘the royal we’. I felt it came across as patronising (although knowing it wouldn't have been intended that way). I realised I had been regarding the project as ‘my baby’ from the beginning, and I had wanted to be trusted to run with it. Now I found myself wondering whether to walk away from it altogether. In prayer I surrendered it to God, mentally trying to leave it with Him.

Back home I looked again at the devotional I’d read the evening before, from Power to Soar:

(Hebrews 11:6)
Baffled Deliverer,
Do you want bewilderment bombarding your mind for a lifetime? Then solicit everyone’s opinion – about everything! Teeter on a tightrope for people who couldn’t care less and for those who are impossible to please! When I speak, refuse to respond until 10,000 confirmations arrive, hand-delivered by angels!
Yours with Tender Concern,
Father

Wednesday
I had an appointment for 9.40 am with the Breast Surgeon at the hospital. Fortunately the weather was fine as it takes about 40 minutes to walk there. The waiting room was packed, and appointments were running behind schedule, but I picked up a copy of The People's Friend and was content sitting reading whilst I waited. It was nearly 10.30 when the nurse called me in to see one of the junior doctors. He wasn't altogether sure why I was there. I explained about the second operation having been postponed due to a relapse in my mental health, and that possibly the Surgeon had wanted to check my mental state for himself before scheduling the further surgery. Accordingly he left me sitting alone in the room for a few minutes and went to invite his senior colleague in to see me. I looked around and smiled to myself at the mischief I could get up to in the room, were I that way inclined. When he came back, he started filling in a form, asking for my contact details. I was reciting my mobile phone number when the Consultant breezed in with a cheerful greeting and perched on the windowsill. I interrupted myself to respond, then explained that I was just giving the doctor my phone number. The Consultant raised an eyebrow and looking at his junior with a grin, asked him, "Why? Are you going round for dinner or something?". It only took a few minutes for us to sort out that the operation would be scheduled as soon as possible, and the Consultant left. The doctor finished filling in his forms and answered my questions, then as I was going, I couldn't resist saying with a big grin, "My cooking is ok, by the way". "Sorry?" he asked, with a startled look. I jerked my head in the direction of the Consultant's office and explained, "He was joking with you about coming round for dinner - I was just saying my cooking is ok". He blushed, and I went off chuckling to myself. Later on I was describing the morning to a friend, who commented in surprise, "It sounds like you enjoyed yourself!" and I realised with surprise that yes, I had enjoyed the light-heartedness of the encounters.

In different vein at Cell group Wednesday night, without me having breathed a word to anyone about what had been going on the day before, the concept of surrendering all to God cropped up several times. It seemed to chime with me wondering whether to walk away from the Wholeness through Spirituality project.

Thursday
Thursday was a glorious day where the space and time and peace I had were very much in tune with the ‘A Course in Miracles’ daily exercise:
“Into His Presence would I enter now”, which began with the words
‘This is a day of silence and trust. It is a special time of promise in your calendar of days. It is a time Heaven has set apart to shine upon …’
Sure enough it was a day of glorious weather and the joy bubbled up in my heart. I was on a high all day – until I found myself reeling in shocked surprise when some very angry words were fired at me unexpectedly by one of my closest friends. I felt bewildered at the time, wondering what I’d done wrong, but listened and discovered that there had been an accumulation of small irritations over a long period of time. Tonight as I reflected on what had been said, I realised that my friend had previously defined various boundaries for the relationship that I had not taken seriously but had trespassed over the line with joyful abandon. Whoops! That’ll teach me! The metaphorical rap on the knuckles left me smarting but smarter, hopefully.

Relapse: What went wrong? Retrospectively

Ok, so for nearly a year – certainly since my baptism last November, I have been happily living at home, managing the normal, everyday stuff along with managing the allotment and working with the Mental Health Links. So what was it triggered the relapse?

With Mental Health Links, I've been working on two projects: 1) to get a 'Sunshine & Showers' group launched in Surrey Heath; 2) to find the best way to further the Positive Spirituality in Promoting Mental Health agenda locally. Meanwhile I've been continuing to attend and enjoy Ballroom and Latin-American dance classes on a Monday evening, with my dance partner, Brian, and taking an active part in the life of the Beacon Church – both as a member of a Cell Group and as a member of the wider church. ('Love the Lord your God with all your heart, with all your soul, with all your mind and with all your strength and love your neighbour as you love yourself')

On September 1st, we had a barbecue here. It was a glorious day and seemed successful in every aspect – the people (family, my church friends and Vic's work colleagues) who came all enjoyed themselves (and I was complimented on having a gift for getting the 'right' people together). The food was good, there was plenty of it, the conversation flowed, etc., etc. Although beforehand there was a lot of hard work went into the preparation, on the day it all seemed to come together so easily there was no stress involved. Yet by the end of the day I felt the early warning symptoms of another relapse – a strange sense like a shadow coming over me, or of looking at my immediate family and feeling distanced, like an outsider looking in. Talk to anybody about this? No, like usual I thought if I carried on regardless, I'd get back on track. I THINK that I upped the medication to 100mg leading up to the barbecue, recognising that stress might cause a 'blip'. I'd been taking a low dose (50mg) of Quetiapine up until the 30th August. This much I know because I'd recorded it in a diary. But from Friday 31st August through to September 4th I didn't make a note of dosage. When I met up with the psychiatrist on August 30th for the regular review, I was doing fine. Dr P_ introduced a med. student, Barney, who would be with her for a few weeks. At one point, presumably feeling a need to explain why someone as apparently intelligent, normal and grounded as me was seeing her, she turned to Barney and said, "Trish was very disruptive to her family last year". I said nothing, merely smiling at him in a gentle way, as I thought I detected a trace of embarrassment in his eyes when he met mine. In the normal course of events, 'normal' adults aren't subjected to another adult speaking about them in a demeaning manner. But hey, it was true, after a fashion, so I shrugged inwardly and kept quiet.