James Ballantyne

Tag: mental health

  • The Lie we’re conditioned to believe.

    I will be ok. 

    Thats the lie. Right there. 

    Actually not quite. 

    Because thinking about it, ‘I will be ok’ was always true, as im still here now, and ‘I will be ok’ was what I used to say to myself a lot, when going through the bewilderment of emotional abuse and manipulation in childhood and in a long term marriage. When things got tough, or weird or both, and much was just what I had been used to since birth; ‘I will be ok’ would be what I said to myself. 

    And because im here writing this, I guess that isnt the liee then. That was grit and determination rearing its strengthening head. 

    The lie was this. 

    ‘I will be ok….if’ 

    ‘If’ that tiny little word. 

    ‘If’ could also appear at the end of the phrase

    ‘They might like me .. IF’ 

    or

    ‘They might be proud of me … ‘IF’ 

    or 

    ‘Things might be ok…’if’’

    But lets get back to the first one

    ‘I will be ok….if’ 

    Conditional Okay-ness. 

    Because thats what it is. Ultimately. It’s about having a self belief that is only satisfied when certain conditions happen. Conditional self- worth, self -respect, self-regard. 

    ‘I will be ok….. if im a little bit fitter’ 

    ‘I will be happy … if I write a piece that goes viral’ 

    ‘I will be happy…. on a sunny day’ 

    ‘I will be ok… if ‘they’ treat me ok’ 

    ‘I will be ok….. if _______ happens’ 

    ‘I will be ok… if get to put in my meditation, breathing, bath, journal, cook nice food, give myself some me time, breathe again, watch the roses grow and do yoga..twice… then ill be ok’ 

    ‘I will be ok……if’ 

    Because it’s a lie. 

    In his book ‘Living untethered’ (and also The Untethered Soul) Micheal Singer writes about how much of our lives are spend trying to avoid, navigate, deny or skirt around pain and challenges in our lives, so much that they dominate. So much so that we create a type of living in which the pain, the abuse, the darkness holds us in captive, and so we instead (I instead) would tell myself these little lies, the lies of conditional okayness. 

    Because I wasnt ok, I hoped and tried to will myself to be, but without facing the real pain, the real issues inside. I was temporarily ok….if my football team won, if I managed to get a good grade in an essay, if I could ride my bike…if , if, if, if… 

    I needed something to happen for me to have temporary ok-ness. 

    I needed something to cause me to feel a tiny bit ok. 

    I was requiring something other, to soothe… something inner. 

    I was needing ‘the world’ to fix/solve/soothe what was on the inside… without facing or dealing with the real issue. It was avoidant, I was avoidant, and yet ‘I will be ok..if’ is all around and so it was easy to go along with it… even if I was dying on the inside. 

    Because. If was depending on something to make me feel ok. Then I wasnt ok. 

    I was just in a cycle of it. 

    Being ok, needn’t be conditional. 

    It took me a very long while, at least 5 years of facing the stuff, journaling, listening to my emotions, giving myself time, safety, therapy, using the tools and having better self care routines, that helped me be in a better place. A place where I could trust myself a bit, a place where I was more aware of my sensitive nature, and awareness of the damage that had been done to me. (for more of this read my story here) . Yet, I was still trying to believe that I was ok. Yes I could relax, yes I was safe, but so much deep down, inside I was , and especially when I hit some low points, I would collapse and breakdown, which I did in 2023. 

    I knew I didnt believe in myself because the very thing that I needed, was the thing I criticised. Positive psychology. Thinking positively. Self affirmations.. yuk no no no. I can’t do that…it’s so Ammmerrican. It’s false, it’s ugh, no. 

    But I realised that my inner critic voice was still running the roost. Even with a lot of change. I still had ‘needs’ and ‘needed things’ to be ok. 

    I didn’t believe I was ok, not unconditionally ok. Self belief hung on a fragile string. 

    That little lie ‘ I will be ok…if……I change my job…if I write something…if I …..’ 

    And whilst im at it, ill not dwell on this here, but I might well have been told that ‘God loved me’ – but since that was also the belief of my abusive parent, and also church was a place I needed to belong, to be important, to be busy, to be intelligent, to know (and not feel) – two theology degrees later and a 22 year career working in faith groups in the UK… Unconditional Gods love, was lost in a kernel of conditional institutional performance and responsibility. It wasnt Gods fault. But too much pain and damage surrounded this heart, and so unconditional love or even unconditional ‘ok-ness’ was off the table. 

    So, it was easy to believe the lie. 

    I wasnt ok, and I was stuck in a cycle of believing that I would be one day ok…if…

    What I had to do was face the reality of myself, and my hurts, pains, defence mechanisms, sand strategies…and dig right deep, into the places of self loathing, self mistrust, self destruction… and find myself stronger, more loving, and more compassionate than all of them. 

    To start to rebuild a self that had been broken and tormented since birth. 

    To realise that ‘ I will be ok.. If’ 

    Was actually a lie. 

    Because the truth is something else. 

    The truth is not that I am ok. 

    The truth is that I just am. 

    Regardless of what happens. I still am. 

    Regardless of what I do… I am

    And in me there is love, and joy, and calm, and truth… 

    The funny thing is, in the last year or so I notice myself saying things like ‘I need ______’ or ‘if I buy _______ ill be ok’ – its almost as if its an unusual thing, to notice, to realise and then I check in with myself. 

    I dont need to believe that I am conditionally ok. 

    And neither do you. 

    But it’s a lie we’ve been often told to believe. 

    Because it keeps us trapped.

  • How Journalling has helped me (and why I found it difficult to start)

    How Journalling has helped me (and why I found it difficult to start)

    I had the weird moment a few weeks ago when I was standing in the well known outlet store ‘TK Maxx’ in the stationary and journal section, where I was joined by….another man in the aisle, looking for a new suitable journal. It was a rare experience. I have never encountered another man in the journal section of either TK Maxx, Waterstones or WHSmith. The lesser spotted male journaller.

    In amongst the array of pink, peach, ‘self care for you’ , ‘be your better self’ journals, that were mainly targeting the female journaller, in conversation we realised we were both looking for something very similar. A plain looking, plain inside journal. No ‘Year planner’ no ‘Goal setting’ no ‘write your dreams for 2026’ – just plain, so that we could write, and write without prompting.

    Oh it wasnt allowed to be pink. Sorry. Just plain. A blue, green, black or purple.

    I didnt feel like asking this random stranger male what he journaled, or what he wrote, we just looked for a while trying to find what we were both looking for.

    Given that its incredibly important that we men have healthy avenues to try and describe, write and formulate our thoughts and feelings – that it seems that its a market more targeted to women, is another tiny obstacle men face when beginning the inner journey. (dont mishear, this is not an excuse..just an observation)

    So, I journal. And I realise that over my lifetime I have written down my thoughts in different ways.

    Firstly, given that bedrooms weren’t safe, there was no way I could write about what was going on at home as a child, nor leave it in a place. Some of my girl friends (friends who were girls) wrote diaries, as did the girls in TV shows, but rarely did boys. The times that I did I kept everything factual and boring, like the weather that day, school homework and probably football scores. Thats all that was safe to be left in my childhood bedroom.

    Between then and 5-6 years ago I would write thoughts and ideas down, usually stemming from what I had read in the Bible, talks or conferences, training notes or my academic notes or ideas for essays. Rarely entering the world of my feelings, or heart – just ideas, thoughts, concepts.

    I probably baulked at the idea of doing journaling back 6 years ago. It seems like a ‘girly’ thing to do. But that I know now was my reactions to it, because it wasnt a safe thing to do in the recent or long term past. But now, I had my own flat, my own space, and I was learning to realise that i was safe to write, safe to express myself and safe to put anything I want down on paper and in any shape or form. Even if at times this had to be fought against the inner voices that were inhibiting it at times.

    I would say that I have used writing in four main ways in the last 5 years, the private stuff, not what I write here.

    1. Free writing – This can take the form of wax crayons, colours and plain paper, closing my eyes and just scribbling, and writing anything on the page depending on the feeling that wants to come out, anger, rage, frustration, hurt, pain, and it can be anything, swear words, scrawl – anything at all – sometimes its a fight to come out but I just sit there and let it, however much thought resistance there might be.
    2. Therapy homework and dreams – After one particular time of therapy I was introduced to inner child writing, and so, i have a journal in which i have an ongoing inner dialogue with my ‘self’ or my feelings, my childhood ego state, and listen, love and care for it. I do this one more often when feeling anxious, depressed, or fearful – but also, when calm too, as it’s a good way of assessing my inner feeling temperature. I followed the ‘discovery of your inner child’ book by Lucio Cappacione for a very long while. I needed to do..not just understand.
    3. Dreams. I write them down. So that I notice what my subconscious is having a play around with during my sleep.
    4. Raging words and trying to understand things. One of my journals was about trying to understand things, trying to write out the questions, the reasons, the hurt and pain of what I suffered.
    5. My Affirmation journal. I began this in 2023 (Here is the story), and continued it each day (give or take a few) , in which I write to myself affirmations, no negatives, no questions, just positive affirmations, as if the universe and its angels were looking at me with delight and then telling me, or as if I as a friend to myself was telling me my truth. Who I am. This has been utterly transformative, not using the language of lies and limitations to shape my inner voice or self any more. To re – orientate my inner critic into something small, and let me heart and soul speak into my life.
    6. The blank one. There always a blank journal on the go, for anything else, just to grab it and write something, a sentence, a phrase, a line from a book, a meme. It’s a bit like the journal equivalent of saving screen shots from healing memes on fb, that also include stuff from books too. Sometimes words just find me, and so I let them arrive and put them down, sometimes these become titles for blogs too. Oh and more recently writing poetry has begun from this.

    For most of these I use coloured pens, to express myself inwardly, and also because blue and black are too close to official colours of study or work. My inner life deserves purples, pinks, greens and yellows, and feelings often emerge in colour.

    I have used writing in a number of ways to listen, and speak from my pain and trauma, from my heart and to my wounded parts, and as the process has continued I have developed different strategies as different aspects have required attention.

    I definitely didnt start this process thinking ‘I am going to journal’ though maybe it was likely given my blogging history and love of writing academically, that writing was going to be one way that was going to be a very useful tool for my healing processing and journey. I did find it painful to start, to force myself to write deep things, as I had spent so long writing thoughts and ideas and my inner heart and feelings were so locked, shamed and hidden away. It was always going to take time, and the guidance of psychological professionals to help me unlock and unblock.

    Sometimes it’s a quick grab of the paper and write down something, sometimes I realise that ive been fighting myself for hours and I just needed to sit, and write and listen and respond. It doesn’t matter, it’s just day by day doing the work, rebuilding, noticing, revealing and loving my self through its own expressions.

    This has been, so far my journey of journalling, what about you? Id love to hear in the comments below your hints and tips for journalling and how it has been part of your healing journey through whatever the situation has been for you.

  • Keeping it real, some days are like treacle.

    I had one of ‘those’ kinds of days today. The kind of days I used to have a lot of, and the kind of days I never used to notice.

    Today I had one of those days when I just felt a bit ‘meh’ a bit ‘unsettled’ a bit ‘I had expectations to try and do a bit of writing and creative thinking and it didnt quite happen and so I was a bit frustrated’ days.. and then I got frustrated, because I was frustrated….

    I sometimes call them ‘treacle days’ – just a bit stodgy, for no real reason, when nothing happens, just that there’s an inner fight.

    But I realise, that I dont get them very often. Which is a nice thing to be reminded of..and thats why they’re unusual and help me stay a little in check, a little moment to remember my vulnerable new humanness with all its emotions having space to play.

    But the reason I get them at all, is that I realise that I am in a good place generally, and that not quite every day can feel calm, can feel easy – especially creatively easy, not every day feels like flow. But thats the thing. Its because I now I feel more feelings, that I can sense that there’s something not quite right.

    It may be absolutely nothing in the grand scheme of things, not a big problem, but thats not what my inner critic wants to hear…… and when it starts to latch onto the tiniest of anxieties, or self doubts, or moments…

    The everyday ‘recovery’ from childhood trauma, and the associated behaviours, continues to be a daily, ongoing piece by piece listening, attending and loving these wounded parts, even if they might just be a bit of frustration……unsettled……

    And so, in a way I realise that I am grateful for the treacle days or treacles moments, because its a part of me thats alive, its apart of me thats allowed and safe to be wanting to tell me something, or do something.

    What I used to have was continual un-dealt with bottled up emotions so that every day was painted in survival stony grey. No treacle days as there was no contrast, just stoic grey, avoidance and dissociation and self soothing one day to the next.

    And back today, what I stopped myself from doing, which I have done in the past is attach the frustration with negative self shame talk like this:

    ‘Ive done all this therapy and healing, I shouldn’t feel like this’

    but thats not the reality is it. Most days are good, most days I feel alive, whole and in the main secure.

    But there are treacle days. Even, actually especially in the process of learning to be our loving whole selves….

    And treacle days or hours that require a little attention, a little love, and little bit of gratefulness, for the feelings, and thoughts themselves.

    So , instead of continuing the inner self fight, I moved, I went out, and I took myself off out for a walk instead, breathed windy air and sunshine, watched ospreys land, and watched as the lizards moved around my feet.

  • Breaking the Silence: Men’s Mental Health Matters

    As men, we’ve been conditioned for generations to believe that strength means suppressing our emotions. We’re told that being tough, stoic, and unshakable is the ideal. We’re encouraged to “man up,” to push through pain, to avoid vulnerability, and to believe that needing help is a weakness. This outdated notion is not only damaging to our mental health, but it’s also limiting our potential to live fulfilling, balanced lives.

    The reality is that mental health struggles don’t discriminate based on gender, and emotional pain doesn’t go away by ignoring it. If anything, it grows in silence. More than ever, it’s time for us to dismantle the toxic expectations surrounding masculinity and embrace the truth: it takes courage to heal.

    Here, I aim to create a safe, open space for men to address their mental health, explore their emotional well-being, and heal from the burdens that have been weighing on us for too long. Today, I want to share why this journey is crucial and how embracing healing is not just a form of self-care—it’s an act of strength.

    The Invisible Weight: Why Men Struggle in Silence

    For decades, mental health awareness has been dominated by female voices, and while this is an important conversation, the men’s mental health crisis often gets overlooked. According to a 2019 report from the Mental Health Foundation, men are three times more likely to die by suicide than women, and nearly 75% of suicides are committed by men. These numbers are not just statistics—they’re real lives lost to a silent epidemic.

    Why does this happen? Why are so many men silently suffering, often without reaching out for help?

    The answer lies in the societal pressures and deeply ingrained stereotypes about what it means to be a man. Many men grow up in environments where vulnerability is shamed, where emotional expression is seen as a flaw, and where “being a man” means never showing weakness. As a result, men often bottle up their feelings, ignore their emotional pain, and repress their mental health struggles, leading to a build-up of unresolved issues.

    But this approach doesn’t just lead to tragic outcomes; it also prevents men from achieving true emotional maturity. It stifles personal growth, strains relationships, and isolates men from the support networks they desperately need.

    The First Step: Acknowledging the Need for Healing

    It’s impossible to start a healing journey if we don’t first acknowledge that something needs to change. And for many men, that means recognizing the emotional pain they’ve been carrying and giving themselves permission to feel.

    The healing process begins with self-awareness. Whether it’s experiencing anxiety, depression, trauma, or just a general sense of emotional numbness, the first step is often the hardest—admitting that we are not okay. This can be a daunting experience, especially for those who have been conditioned to believe that “real men” don’t feel or express weakness.

    But the truth is, acknowledging that we need help is one of the most courageous things we can do. It’s a sign of self-respect, a commitment to bettering ourselves, and an act of self-love. It says, “I deserve to be well,” and, “I’m worth the effort it takes to heal.”

    The Power of Vulnerability

    I know that for many men, the word vulnerability carries a lot of weight, often invoking fear or discomfort. We associate vulnerability with being weak or exposed, but in reality, vulnerability is an incredible source of strength.

    Think about it: vulnerability is what allows us to form deep connections with others. It’s what lets us be real and honest, not just with ourselves, but with the people we care about. When we embrace vulnerability, we open ourselves up to healing, growth, and authenticity.

    Opening up about our feelings—whether it’s to a friend, a therapist, or a support group—doesn’t make us weak. In fact, it does the opposite. It takes immense courage to confront and express the emotions that we’ve been taught to hide. Vulnerability fosters trust, self-acceptance, and meaningful relationships. It helps us release the burdens we’ve been carrying in isolation and invites others to do the same.

    Im hoping that by sharing my story, I’ve encouraged men to lean into vulnerability. It’s not about airing our weaknesses—it’s about recognizing our humanity and giving ourselves the space to be imperfect.

    Seeking Help: Therapy, Support Groups, and More

    The road to healing is not one we have to walk alone. In fact, seeking help is a crucial step in the journey. For men, this may mean attending therapy, joining a support group, or talking to trusted friends or family members. The stigma surrounding therapy for men is slowly changing, but it’s still a barrier that many men face. There is a misconception that therapy is only for those who are “broken” or “weak,” but that’s simply not the case.

    Therapy is a tool for growth, not a sign of failure. It’s a space where we can explore our emotions, process past trauma, and develop healthier coping strategies. It’s a place where we can challenge the harmful narratives we’ve been told about masculinity and build a more balanced, authentic version of ourselves.

    Support groups can also be an invaluable resource. Many men feel isolated in their struggles, thinking they’re the only ones going through difficult emotions. But when we connect with others who share similar experiences, we realize we’re not alone. Support groups provide a sense of camaraderie and encouragement, and they help men normalize the conversation around mental health.

    The Benefits of Healing: Personal and Relational Growth

    Healing isn’t just about alleviating pain, often its about facing it—it’s about transforming our lives for the better. When we take care of our mental health, we improve our overall well-being, which has a ripple effect on all areas of our lives.

    1. Emotional Resilience: When we work through our emotional challenges, we build the resilience needed to face future stressors. Rather than feeling overwhelmed or defeated, we become more equipped to handle adversity with confidence and emotional maturity.
    2. Stronger Relationships: Healing allows us to show up more fully in our relationships. We become better partners, fathers, and friends when we prioritize our emotional well-being. By understanding ourselves more deeply, we can communicate better, set boundaries, and foster healthier connections.
    3. Physical Health: Mental and physical health are deeply connected. Chronic stress, depression, and anxiety can manifest in physical symptoms like headaches, digestive issues, and fatigue. When we address our mental health, we’re also improving our physical health, leading to a more vibrant and energetic life.
    4. Purpose and Fulfillment: Healing helps us reconnect with our sense of purpose. It allows us to align our lives with our values and passions, leading to a more fulfilling and meaningful existence. When we take care of our emotional health, we can pursue our goals with clarity and motivation.

    Taking Action: How to Start Your Healing Journey

    If you’re ready to embark on your own journey of healing, know that you don’t have to have all the answers right now. The process can begin with small, intentional steps:

    • Speak to a professional: A therapist can help guide you through your healing journey with personalized support. Look for a therapist who specializes in men’s mental health or general emotional well-being.
    • Open up to someone you trust: Sharing your struggles with a friend or family member can help alleviate the weight of silence. Even if it’s just starting with one conversation, it’s a powerful first step.
    • Join a support group: Finding a group of like-minded men who are on a similar journey can offer camaraderie and solidarity. You don’t have to face your challenges alone. Andy’s Man club is one in the north east.
    • Practice self-care: Healing isn’t just emotional—it’s also physical. Take care of your body by exercising, eating well, and getting enough rest. Self-care routines create a foundation for mental and emotional healing.
    • Educate yourself: Read books, watch documentaries, or listen to podcasts about men’s mental health. The more informed you are, the better equipped you’ll be to navigate your healing journey. I can recommend a lot in the resources section on this blog.

    Final Thoughts: Reclaiming Your Power

    As men, we’ve spent far too long holding onto the lie that emotional pain should be hidden, ignored, or suppressed. But healing is not only possible—it’s essential. By embracing our vulnerability, seeking support, and taking responsibility for our mental health, we can redefine what it means to be a strong, resilient man.

    Healing is an act of power, not weakness. It’s time for us to break the silence, step into our full humanity, and heal—not just for ourselves, but for the generations of men who will come after us. Often its crisis that takes us to this point, or the desperate calls of a loved one to face things, maybe it’s time for you, to lean in to the possibilities beyond and break up the surface cracks and find wholeness underneath, beyond the pain.

    Remember: You are not alone in this journey. You are worthy of healing, and it’s never too late to start.

    Confession. This article is 90% written by GPT, with a few additions. I genuinely wanted to see what it would write if I asked it to write a 1500 word piece on Mental Health and Men. So here it is. Whether it’s from AI or from me, the message is the same though.

    Your Mental health matters men, and you change before you break, or it’s too late. Do it for you, and all you love.

  • Calling from the Blue

    Calling from the Blue

    And then….

    The lights went out

    Darkness filled the air

    Stillness hung like smoke

    No-thing

    Space for fear to come in

    Dread

    Alone-ness

    Oh how those disciples of Jesus, and the women, and others, each of them lost in different ways,

    facing the end, death, and an uncertain life

    Allegiances loosely pledged, dashed, unfulfilled.

    Wondering lost in the next

    That hadn’t started, that wasnt there

    Just lost.

    They probably woke early, even if exhausted,

    To the new darkness approaching.

    They had nothing to wait for, because nothing was expected.

    Grief freezes

    Grief holds

    Grief and Anger mixed together in a soup of despair

    The poignancy of the empty blue sky

    and the shadows of the day before.

    The rush to start the new,

    to move forward

    to get on with life

    to run, avoid, fill up time

    Blue deep sky in the morning.

    Blue hearted

    Death is the great wound in the universe, it is the ultimate vulnerability that overshadows every footstep

    John O Donohue, Divine Beauty

    Yet…. love waits, calling from the blue

    Calling from the tears

    Calling from the unfulfilled dreams

    Calling from the nothingness

    Calling from the truth

    So…

    Take your time

    Its important that you feel

    And feel it deeply

    No rush

    Take your time

    Its important that you feel

    and feel it

    wholly.

    A known path is often full of potholes

    Take your time

    Its important that you feel

    your way

    led on the wings of the angels

    carried at their speed……

    not yours

    not the speed that you were going

    as you rushed to make it happen

    headlong into perfectionist headache

    Running from avoidance in your heart

    No rush

    Take your time

    Life awaits

    and calls you

    in the midst of

    in the midst

    of

    the waiting

    the liminal space

    between

    the death of the old

    the awakening of the new

    Take your time

    No rush

    It’ll be there

    Yet in this moment

    in its ambiguity

    in its uncomfort

    in its wrestle

    is your working

    is where your life tools get chiseled

    Self compassion and care make their deepest clean

    Dreams wrestle with reality

    Frustration becomes a higher calling

    to a place beyond, not yet felt

    not yet in..

    Take your time

    as an act of love

    a gift to yourself

    to embrace this now

    embrace this gift

    let it change you

    make you

    teach you

    No rush

    Take your time

    Life day will happen

    Resurrection day will happen

    In your soul, in your heart

    and

    now

    its just making itself known

    awakening your heart to feel it

    in the midst of this now

    So

    No Rush

    Let Love move in its slow way

    Beyond the blue

    in the blue.

  • Life with c-PTSD

    I did something this week that I’ve never done before. 

    I googled, no, I read the wikipedia article on c-ptsd. 

    Here it is:  c-PTSD

    Because, not for the first time in my last few years, it has been something that my partner at the time identified that I might have, or be in the midst of navigating the symptoms of. 

    Currently this has been because I have had some very close encounters with my abusive childhood in the last month, and needed to ‘re group’ in the way I have needed to – to feel safe, EMDR, journalling, sensing emotions/thoughts and loving them, and myself. 

    I guess I had been reluctant to self identify with ‘having’ c-ptsd before. WHY JAMES? 

    Maybe because i just existed and what I had to deal with was ‘normalised’ .

    Maybe because I had to hide all experiences, and feelings, and knew that was my only choice to stay safe

    Maybe because I didnt feel the need to categorise what I suffer from in such a way…. yet, given that my childhood was about survival, and counting down the days until my 18th Birthday (and leaving home when I was 18 1/2 and never going back) and survival in a marriage of limited emotional health (I’ll be kind) or support, and no supportive parents to go to… trapped, wasnt the word …….. but it was what I was used to. 

    The story of my childhood and surviving it, amid psychopathic parents is here 

    I took on their weight of expectations, shame, guilt, I hid my emotions, self soothed, self harmed in a variety of less seen ways, and then to add this, adapted this into a religious belief that also created self-loathing, shame and high expectations. 

    That was what happened to me….. that I took on as being my fault, and my responsibility to fix. 

    But…. none of these things are in my life right now. 

    Even if they have got a bit close in the last few months, for reasons I cannot go into here. 

    Even with safety, even with the tools, even with the measure of control I have. 

    Doesn’t mean to say it hasn’t affected. Doesn’t mean to say it hasnt required work. 

    Thats the thing….. 

    The Trauma has gone. 

    But it doesn’t quite shift. 

    ‘I feel like I am an escaped prisoner’ 

    William Cartier Bresson 

    And it’s not the ‘wanting to go back’ – it’s that the magnet of its emotional pull fights to go back, fights to cause sinkage, stuckness and have the voices of despair, doubt, pain. Past takes over when present and future had been almost blissfully enjoying themselves for a rarity. 

    I didnt want to say ‘I have c-ptsd’ because well what difference would it make?

    and it would mean causing a fuss or a statement or recognition of this, as a thing. See how thats a symptom in itself. 

    But I do. 

    And the thing is, with what happened to me, and when, it has required a lengthy painful inner ‘journey’ to feel safe within, to feel safe without, to be able to feel emotions, and for my trauma brain to trust, its what Ive been doing and what I continue to do. 

    C-ptsd was my normal – it was a survival strategy. 

    And I lived in day to day trauma for over 40 years. 

    Yet. I wonder. 

    I wonder whether what happened to me, is not just for me any more. 

    What if it was something that might be a superpower to bring light and life to others? Not just a survivors gift….but a statement of what it is to be, to be fully human, and shine light

    What if the very thing that I had to be, to survive, is actually a strength and a superpower? 

    What might my story or my sense of being from the post-traumatic growth I’ve encountered in the last 18 months – from a life of abuse survival – might bring to others? 

    As I shine light on what I did to survive, as I bring light into the wounds, as I notice and love myself to my fullest, i just carry on doing this, and being able to live, grateful, honoured and joyful in the open possibility of a future. 

    I don’t need to label myself. 

    I am not a label or a diagnosis

    I just need to love myself. 

    I am me

    I just keep being in love with me

    one step and day at a time. 

    Mending the love pathways inside, where there was only fracture. 

    Maybe wounds are where the light wrestles its way in. 

    And those wounds keep opening every now and then, to reset and remind me, that I am someone now, I am love now, a trigger as a reminder that I can love myself….and a wounded part of me requires time, care and attention. 

    C-ptsd, might just be

    Compassion

    Powering

    Trauma to

    Step

    Down. 

    Because I am not my trauma. Nor am I my past

    And neither are you. 

  • Growth Conditions (on the inside)

    Growth Conditions (on the inside)

    One of the concepts I really like that I have used in some of my community work practices, is that of ABC, and it’s taken from Deci and Ryan’s stuff on self -determined growth. I first found it in Jocelyn Bryans book ‘Human Being’ :Insights from Psychology on the Christian Faith.

    A link to Deci and Ryans stuff is here. Basically how I have tended to share this has been about how young people, more pertinently, how three key factors are required to enable us to be able to ‘grow’

    They are A – Autonomy – the capacity to make decisions about the things that are important to us

    B- Belonging – it’s all about relationship…. but felt safety, felt sense of ‘home’ , being valued, being seen…

    C – Competence – Having the opportunity to do things, take risks, have positive feedback, ‘go beyond’

    Thats it in brief. So, when I share this stuff i normally do so on the basis of the ‘external’ places where these things happen…. or dont… and so when young people (or anyone) feels that they dont have these things, or maybe only 1 – then its unlikely that they will be able to flourish/grow in balance.

    A place where there is felt safety – but no challenge o autonomy might get boring or belittling…

    A place where there is challenge- but no relationship or autonomy might be task heavy, uncaring and disempowered…

    How might all be present, to the extent that a person requires in in a setting, and then, what’s required in a place like a workplace to keep someone in a role, when these things aren’t there. Higher pay? Better conditions? enforced compliance?

    Not every situation is going have ‘all three’ in balance, and maybe thats an impossibility given our individuality, however, in situations where 1, 2 or 3 of these is seriously lacking… and maybe there’s a thing too that some places offer one of these, because of the damage of somewhere else, and people embody these as much as places create them too.

    Yet, I was pondering all this over the last few weeks, given that I used this ‘model’ in a conference recently.

    And I was wondering, how might this all be applied on the inside.

    What if instead, the ‘place’ of growth wasnt the external place of the school, youth group, workplace etc… what might it be if the place was the ‘community’ on the inside?

    The heart, soul and mind in community – linked with thoughts, memory and experience?

    So often I have realised that what I tried to create for others…..I needed myself….

    On the inside….

    What might felt belonging and safety feel like – inside? – a place on where emotions are free to come out and play…. all of them , a place where inside there is a sense of calm, and not urgency, fear or danger…. a place where the talk inside is caring, soft and loving? A place inside of connection and harmony. The inside can rarely feel safe, more a barren landscape that can be thought of in fear…..

    True belonging……. on the inside…..

    Autonomy – on the inside… the ability to make decisions about thoughts and emotions, distinct from the thoughts and emotions, having a sense of control rather than bewilderment, overwhelm and where there’s is choice. Choice to act in a way that is conscious. Inner choices to make assessments of emotions, and thoughts.

    And what about Competence. Inner competence. To feel internally proud of achieving and making hard changes, in behaviour, whether this is addiction, dependence, whether this about self protection, or whether this is the day by day, step by step of seeing, feeling and becoming more awake. Brave steps to face stuff on the inside and work through them, rising to that challenge, often reluctantly or belligerently. Often starting with the externals, the relationship, then working on the internals, the default protective patterns, that are self prisoning. Competence on the inside as a process of ongoing healing from trauma and growth amidst it…and beyond.

    All of these are required for growth. All of these are required in the process of inner deep healing.

    I was reminded also of these yesterday as I watched Brene Browns TED talk again of 15 or so years ago, and the path of vulnerability.

    Im just pondering really, giving these some thought space… what might be required psychologically on the inside for healthy post traumatic growth?

    Maybe these are markers that inner growth is happening?

    And yes its ‘only a theory’ but just pondering….

  • The Longest Journey to make the Shortest Distance

    Ive been on what I call ‘Project James’ for over 6 years now, and in that time to heal from 40 years of manipulative abuse since childhood, including recovering from unemployment and homelessness.

    Internally, breaking down behind the ‘I’m doing ok’ facade, pretend strength but hollow and hurting inside, that had been my survival strategy since childhood, one that I thought was normal, a lifetime of running, avoiding or soothing, in a variety of destructive ways, oh and hoping that Jesus would deal with it, fix it and that ‘church’ would be my saviour.

    And thats just a summary.

    In summary, then, the last six years has included

    • 4 different bouts of therapy, including trauma therapy
    • Pages of journalling, raging and writing
    • Reading an extensive amount of self help books that encompassed:
      • Undertstanding narcissim, psychopathy and emotionally immature parents
      • Codependency
      • Self Understanding on Enneagram
      • Self compassion
      • Inner child work
      • Trauma – including Edith Eger, Victor Frankl, The Body keeps the score etc… 
      • Spirituality, including Eckhart Tolle, John O Donohue and others. 
      • Personal freedom, such as The four/five agreements, and The Untethered Soul
    • Walking and taking on a number of ‘slow’ hobbies
    • Writing, including my blog here

    It’s been a lot. A lot to try and understand myself, alot to be able to become more and more safe for me on the inside to be able to feel emotions, to be able to regulate and to face the pains and damage from my abusers, and also how I internalised and survived it all, and at the same time, work, earn, live and exist. 

    Yet, when I think about it, it’s been a long journey, to make a small distance considerably more healthy and whole. 

    It has been a long journey, in thinking, feeling and experiencing.

    To build connections where there once was fracture.

    To heal the holes, brokenness and wounded-ness between my head, my heart, and my soul. 

    The distance from I to myself. 

    An extensive work to heal a small amount of space.

    A journey I was putting off taking for far too long

    A journey I invalidated and avoided

    My thoughts that I believed, told me that I was too broken, too beaten, too frightened, to guilty, to shameful, too small, too weak, to make, and the journey

    Too big, too exposing, too tiring, too massive, too encompassing, too hard, too challenging and was also too invalidated by those around me, or my own beliefs 
    ( I needed more of Jesus, and not anything of myself….) 

    And a journey that didnt promise any outcome. 

    Didnt shout its reward. 

    Didnt have a map, or compass

    Or sometimes any directions

    It just needed to start. 

    And it started from being broken, started from the place of nothing.

    ‘For when she had nothing to lose, then she was free’ (Paulo Coelho) 

    It started as I changed, slowly, trusting in a moment of vulnerability, 

    ‘I have no home, will you look after me’ 

    When for so long I couldnt articulate weakness, vulnerability or be anything other than ‘the strong one for others’ … 

    The longest journey of the smallest distance started with being broken. 

    Started as my mind had run out of resources. 

    Coping wasnt living, especially wasnt coping in survival mode. 

    The packaging of life hadn’t fulfilled its ‘James hoped for’ expectations.

    Because the landscape on the inside was a barren mine- filled land of fear, terror, a landscape I was afraid of, that was dominating every action, every moment. 

    What I was afraid of held power over me. 

    I couldnt go there. 

    And yet…. as soon as I started the walk….. the universe provided…. angels in the form of spare bedrooms, kind words, walks, safety… beyond anything… safety. 

    And slowly, slowly I began to tentatively see, feel, walk in the landscape. 

    It was and is the journey of a lifetime, for it has been a journey of life. 

    Maybe the longest journey is the shortest distance, and how this is navigated shapes so much of our lives. 

    There are times of deep searching, deep disconnection, emotions and fear, yet I have been open to the possibility of healing and growth within it all, for nearly all of the time, yes some resistance… but old habits change hard…. 

    It was only the gap of the thoughts, 

    It was only the gap between heart and soul, 

    No distance at all….. 

    Yet an ongoing journey of love, of life and gratitude

    Towards a place beyond.

    Tentatively.

    Where life is and was all along.

  • My Most Toxic Relationship (was the one I was responsible for)

    Over the last 15 months I have been keeping an ‘affirmation’ journal, in which each day, and each day with only 1 day missed in this time I have written positive affirmations to myself, maybe they’re from the universe, from God, from angels, from my heart to myself… it doesn’t matter, they have all been positive.

    I started it after I had this interaction with my therapist back in November 2023……

    I have realised that it is possible to say loving things to myself.

    I have realised that it is possible to believe the same loving words about myself.

    It was as if I was able to tentatively walk on an ‘island’ of self affirmation, of a different inner voice being stronger and more practiced than the other one.

    The one in which I had been swimming in thick treacly water for my life before hand, with an island of serenity being a dream away, beyond anything possible.

    That was its own lie. Beyond wasnt possible.

    And for the months in the last year or so, because I have been able to live in an existence with a positive inner voice, it has made the other one more obvious.

    The water may have been felt, at times, definitely. But swimming in it? not as much.

    Yet my critical mind wanted to cling on for so long.

    It wanted to keep its role.

    It had convinced itself it was the only protector in town.

    It needed to be.

    Because it had been. The inner critic. Had been ruling the roost for 45 years, almost without any challenge at all.

    It may have been exacerbated and created by some of the significant people around me, but when I listen to what it said to me, I realise that the most toxic relationship was with myself.

    The inner voice that I gave too much power to.

    The one that drove a type of perfection, that tore myself in half for every semblance of mistake – self hatred.

    The one which tried to protect me from a kind of vulnerability that would open me up.

    The one that ‘stayed strong’ in the midst

    The one that gave up

    The one that despaired

    The one that thought it was always in trouble

    The one that felt it was always responsible

    The one that felt small and helpless

    The one that was disappointed and cynical

    The one that said I wasnt good enough…or deserve to be loved

    The one that feared, and was scared.

    The one that carried shame – for my own, or others pain.

    The one that self loathed, after comfort eating, and the rest

    The one that fell short, and felt burdened by ‘sin’

    The one that kept trying and failing

    The one that was living for a tomorrow, or trying to soothe when ‘conditionally ok’ – trying to find the ‘next thing’ to make everything feel ok. And not face the actual thing.

    The one that ‘felt’ disappointed if something I tried didnt work, when I say disappointed, I mean rock bottom yukkiness.

    The toxic relationship of that inner voice telling myself all these things, constantly, it barely stopped.

    And what made it wore, that without any alternative, this voice was deemed God in my inner psyche.

    Yeah. That toxic.

    I thought that voice was God. It was God. yuk.

    I look now, and so, when I hit the emotional break downs of 2018, or mid 2023 I wonder, that actually what also need to break, was the toxicity in myself, that had festered, honed and been plaguing me since birth. Because a childhood of survival isnt a childhood of life, love, nurturing or protection. I bricked up for safety.

    And day by day, moment by moment in the last few years, and even more so in the last 14 months, self love has created self- safety to feel emotions and to rest in my own body, and let my mind off the hook.

    It was love after all.

    The tiniest crack of the strength of love, that began my turn to myself.

    And now a day practice, which my heart speaks – rebalances my critical mind’s power.

    Stops me using language and meanings against me, but for me, and unconditionally.

    Lent. A journey into the shadows. A time to heal. A choice, to face it.

    A time to see.

    Time to notice.

    That for me, in a place of deep self love

    I can live knowing I am love, loved and that even those days and times when my mind wants its say, it isnt the only voice in town. It is met with love.

    Healing myself from within, has been excruciating at times. Facing the shadows and not being afraid to ‘go there’, listening to the voice, but not giving it to its lies.

    Love wins, and Love is in you in abundance.

    One tear at a time. One breakdown to break in to the warm on the inside, and let it flow.

    My most toxic relationship, was the one with myself.

    And that was the only one I had the responsibility and power to heal.

  • Hello again Despair; meet love.

    Hello again Despair; meet love.

    Oh Hello

    Not darkness my old friend.

    But Despair.

    I saw you.

    I heard you.

    Sneakily arriving when my guard was down.

    When tiredness and exhaustion had depleted me

    And reminders of trauma hurt like the touching of the electric fence.

    And everything span.

    You found a way in when unexpressed anger over powered

    And I had no defences.

    Thanks. Nice. Am so glad you showed up.

    Thank you for your honestly.

    Giving me the path, showing me how I could soothe myself.

    Convincing voice that I was weak, alone and it wouldn’t matter, that I was small all over again.

    Despair, the friend who’s been close since childhood.

    Since desperate moments in bedrooms.

    When suicide was a conceivable option

    But, it’s been a while since I sensed your voice.

    Until the last few days.

    When reminders came back.

    Big.

    As did the swirl.

    the headache.

    The confusion.

    Trauma tired. Small.

    I heard you trauma despair,

    I heard you.

    But this time, for the first time.

    I heard you in that moment.

    And gave you airtime.

    And told you thank you

    Loved it, for protecting me before.

    For it used to be despair in the cacophony of depression, as if constant down with despair blips.

    But this time. Despair made itself known from a place of general positivity.

    New normal is a loving powerful me.

    And I decided that it needed to be loved.

    And not shamefully hid, but loved in the open.

    Talked to, heard and for despair to realise.

    That it isnt me.

    But it used to lead me, and I didn’t care enough to fight it.

    But this time, despair, I met your pain with love.

    And trauma you didn’t overcome me, not this time.

    I will hold you, and my arms will love you.

    I am bigger than you and love will always melt you away.

    Thank you for your visit despair, it’s time you were released, it’s time to let you pass through me.

    Linger no more.

    Goodbye this time despair, know you’ll be loved next time too. If I see you again.