Allison Howard – Walking heart

If you are familiar with my writing, I am guessing you are wondering if I have ever sought help or spoken to anyone of knowledge about my mental health and wellness. Well the short answer to this is, yes. However, it was, quite a lengthy and bumpy road, but when the help finally came it was in the most unsuspecting manner.

Let me explain, first I need to take you all the way back to 1996, to the first time I remember my mind was not quite right. I was at work, it was late, and I was locking up the dental surgery I assisted at. You see over the past couple of weeks I had noticed a cloud of grey tiredness had looped around my mind lassoing my heart and stomach together, squashing my head into my shoulders, I didn’t like this, feeling and I found that I couldn’t shake it. 

Previously when I felt like this, it was only momentary and I could push it away with food, or some other distraction. But for some reason this fog was like walking through a cloud of heavy duty Velcro, every-time I moved it would stick back firmer than it had been before, and I was starting to get worried that it was never going to go away. 

So, as I walked through the building shutting off the lights, all the rooms suddenly became quiet, and as I stood there in the darkness, I realised I was the only person in the building. Thats’ when I thought to myself, Im going to do it, Im going to try and talk to someone. So in the yellow half light of the front reception desk, I picked up the phone and dialled the number to someone I thought might help.

Phone – “Hello, Lifeline is this an emergency?” 

Me – “Oh what? No… Ummm… not an emergency really”

Phone – “How can I help you tonight?” 

Me – “Oh Um I think…. I mean…. Umm maybe I need some help?”

Phone – “Oh. You think there is something wrong with you do you?”

Now, I am not sure how the person on the other end of the line felt that question was delivered, or maybe she herself was having a bad day, I will never know, but the passive aggressive tone that crawled out of the receiver on my end and slapped me in the face, calling me pathetic, scared me. I sharply inhaled and instantly hung up, grabbed my bag, and ran out the door so embarrassed with myself that that evening I headed straight to the pub and proceed to drink this cloud away. Later that night, I fell happily into bed with a belly full of beer and dim sims, my ears ringing from the pub band speakers, and my mind happy in the thought that the grey cloud had completely evaporated. 

This was my first attempt at counselling, not a great start, but after this initial embarrassment I shook off the notion that something was not right with me, I mean how stupid, I was completely fine, nothing was wrong with me, and for several weeks after that call, I quietly thanked God no one had heard or witness what had transpired, and then moved happily further down the chaotic path I had just stepped on.

However, unfortunately the cloud had not evaporated, I had just found a wonderful tool to mask it. I did such a fantastic job at hiding how I really felt that I bet even now, people who know me reading this will be shocked, perhaps not even believe it. But yes, as awkward as it makes me feel to admit the above is true. Now continuing on my therapy journey, I really didn’t seek any further help for many years as alcohol, food, travelling and generally keeping busy seemed to be working just fine, right up until COVID hit and the world stopped. 

With isolation laws in place, and the lack of activities, distraction and movement, everything came crashing down on me like a large bag of bricks. The pressure of homeschooling, working at a hospital with COVID wards, the stress of managing the house and trying to make everything seem “normal” and “fun”, let’s not even mention the mountain of unfolded washing that had been piling up. All this came crashing on top of me one sunny Thursday afternoon. I remember it vividly and will never forget the moment when I realised something was horribly wrong. 

I was out in the back yard with my beautiful daughter watching her run and jump through an obstacle course she created, the sun was out with a Autumn golden glow flowing through the air. And as I stood there watching her laughing and skipping, I became puzzled as to why I was not joining in the fun. I couldn’t move, I was frozen to the spot, in fact couldn’t feel anything, no joy, no laughter, no anger, no panic nothing. You see, the grey cloud that used to follow me around had found its way inside my body, and I have no words for how much that frightened me. So, I did the first thing I knew to keep me safe, I ran to the fridge and took a beer, announcing “Remote learning is off for the day.” My daughter was over the moon with joy, and halfway through my second beer I started to feel better. But unlike my young 20 year old self, I knew this wasn’t right, and I realised this path I was facing was wrong. 

Not long after that event, I took the opportunity to speak to a counsellor at work. You see, I am lucky where I work, every staff member, if they choose has been allotted a X-amount of hours to “Chat about anything” that is on our minds. So I booked in and started talking, it was actually great, this person didn’t know me at all, so I opened up about everything. I told her about the cloud that keeps following me, and that I was starting to feel numb and not quite in my own head. It was great, I had several sessions with this person and towards the end of the time, she most helpfully suggested that I should find someone to help me with how I was feeling. 

I said  “Yes of course I was hoping I could keep talking with you.”

Counsellor – “Oh No, not me.”

Me – “Why not?”

C – “That’s not my job”

Me – “What do you mean? What is your job?”

C – “To listen to people and give advice.”

Me – “Great, that’s what I need.”

C – “No. You need to see a Doctor.”

Me – “Oh OK can you recommend anyone I can see?” 

C – “No. Thats not my job, you need a referral.”

Me – “Oh. OK then.”

So that was the end of that. I walked out of the room and never saw that person again, not even in the cafeteria. How every odd, but don’t worry it gets worse. After I left the councillor I decided she was right and I made an appointment at my GP, I was sure this was going to get me somewhere. So I walked into the doctors rooms and waited the standard 40 mins over my sheduald appointment time, hustled into the clinic room and sat down in the squeaky fake leather chair. 

“So Allison how can I help you today?” my GP asked me as she swivelled her chair to face the computer screen. She hadn’t really looked at me yet, but that didn’t matter, I just started talking. I got the standard nod and appropriate “Hmmmmmm’s” when required. When I stopped talking she swivelled her chair around to finally look at me. 

Dr – “Well you need to see someone about this.”

Me – “Well, yes, I am seeing you.”

Dr – “No you need to see a therapist about how you are feeling”

Me – “Oh OK, can you recommend someone?” 

Dr – “Oh no, I don’t do that, just google “therapist” and something will come up.”

With that she stood up from her swivel chair, indicating that our time was over, and handed me a piece of paper labeled “mental health plan” and ushered me out of the door. So there I was at home with the interesting job of finding a councillor that would help me; and by the way everyone was speaking this should be easy right? No.

Taking my Doctors advice, I asked the internet and various Face Book pages for the “Best therapist near me”. I found a couple of names that might be able to help, and I started to ring around. Do you think anyone was taking on new clients? Every single person I tried to make an appointment with was either booked out for a year or not taking on any new patients, all accept one, which I promptly made a time with, and waited for the appointment. 

I saw this person face to face only once, and in hind sight I should have turned around as soon as I walked in the front door. This person greeted me, wearing a face shield, an N95 mask and protective glasses, which hadn’t been fitted properly, so all her protective gear was either fogging up or kept falling off her face and sliding down her forehead at awkward angles, thus making her constantly touch her unsterilised hands all over her head. At the time I do remember thinking what she was wearing was slightly over kill, but this performance appealed to my strange sense of humour, also it was COVID and people where scared, so I let it go. What really made me think she might not be the best fit for me was her long toenails, that were french polished and had started to curl over and down her open toe shoes. It was the strangest thing I had ever seen. But she sounded nice, and was the only person avalible, so I thought I’d give her the benefit of the doubt. 

Now, after this first meeting every other session would be conducted over the phone which was fine, and for the first 2 sessions everything went reasonably well. However I believe the next red flag I got, was her saying to me, after hearing some of my bullying experiences during my school years.  “Wow you should really get that sorted out before your child gets to high school.” At the time I agreed with her, but later thought to myself, “Hang on, wasn’t that what I was doing?” 

An other red flag was, during one of our sessions, as I was talking about some work place politics I was facing, she actually went through a fast food drive through, ordered her lunch and paid for it the whole time I was speaking, which was slightly off putting but I guess you have to eat and I was thankful she didn’t chew down the phone at me, which was nice of her.

The final red flag was, right after speaking to her about some friendship issues I was having, her direct question/statement was “What is wrong with you? Don’t you know there are people out there who have it really bad, who have been raped.” She actually said that. I was stunned and immediately hung up, what a completely horrible person. I am not entirely sure what she was trying to achieve in spouting out this statement but I will never forget her shaming me and my “meagre troubles”. After several attempts by her to call me back, I did confront her about what she said and proceeded to lecture her about how valid my feelings are, and yes, I was aware that people have harder experiences than me, but my feelings are just as important as the next persons, and as I finished my lecture, she had the audacity to desperately and randomly repeat, “I am so proud of you.” This was so strange, I could not have laughed loud enough, and as I punched the hang up icon on my phone; all I could think of was what a waste of time and money, what a complete batshit crazy lady. So that was the end of that, and I swore I would never use therapy EVER AGAIN.

You see, looking at all these past attempts at mental wellness failures. I think I was trying to find an answer to a question I did not have and these people I had spoken with over the years didn’t have it either. You see, I think I wanted someone to tell me I was OK, but in actual fact I already was I just needed to be shown how to be it. And this happened about 2 years ago, in a noisey airport coffee lounge in tropical North Queensland. 

Lock down was over, and I had been having a short break, visiting old friends, and unfortunately for this one particular friend she was stuck in the same hotel room as me, and had to listen to all my tummy troubles throughout the night and witness the whirlpool of emotion I was drowning in at the time. At the end of the weekend as we sat and waited for our seperate planes to board. Smiling calmly and with out a word my friend pushed a book across the table, and tapped the cover. With this small gesture the question I had been seeking revealed itself and eventually, I found the elusive answer. 

The book cover was red and in bold white type the title displayed said “How to do the work”  

It was the simplest thing anyone could have done but this book changed my life completely. Written by a Dr Nicole Le Pera, a holistic psychologist in the US and one of the creators of the Self healers Circle. Her words opened my eyes to how life can and should be, and has shown me the way to a calmer more peaceful self; and even though from time to time that grey feeling comes floating back, with what I have read, listened and learnt, I now know where this feeling comes from and that by recognising and managing this, I can be happy even on those over cast cloudy days, it is just up to me to practice and believe it. 

These thoughts have inspired my latest illustration, titled “Digging for Pippies” water colour and felt pen on paper. 

This will be the first of a series called Chasing Pippies and springs directly from my writing which I posted exactly 12 months ago titled “Pippies in a Pot”. I want to explore the notion of “Developed Trauma” (Yes I have made this phrase up). Unlike PTSD where a individual faces acute or constant abuse or violence. Developed trauma occurs throughout a persons life slowly like a collection of pebbles building up until gravity takes over and the tower falls. Just like life experiences and dealing with multiple events that cause grief or distress there will be a tipping point in an individuals life where this stress, if not handled correctly, can no longer be ignored. The choice here is how do we handle this collected grief? Do we choose avoidance and distraction or do we look at each cause directly? 

This is what I have been doing through my writing and drawing, I guess what I want to do is dig up each pippie of grief that I have collected over the years, and share it here with my art thoughts and feelings about these events. You see I want to look at each pippie, acknowledge its pain and beauty, then place it back into this big ocean we call life; and with each discarded pippie my true self will be released. 

Until next time, my wonderful friends. I hope everyone is having a great start to February and keeping safe and well.