neurodiversity

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Analysis Paralysis under the duvet

My duvet – the one I was under..

Packing…errands…sorting… exercise… healthy eating choices…

communications… personal development… professional work…

Aarrgghhhh! Back under the duvet…

 

 

 

I began to think, “I can’t stay here all day!”   So I Googled how I felt (as you do)… Came up with this blog by Becky Kane:

The Science of Analysis Paralysis: How Overthinking Kills Your Productivity & What You Can Do About It

https://blog.todoist.com/2015/07/08/analysis-paralysis-and-your-productivity/

A good read,  well placed resarch to back up the article, great visuals, and…

Practical suggestions of how to overcome the problem.  Excellent!

One that really helps me is this tip:

“The next time you catch yourself thinking over a particularly issue again and again, schedule a meeting with a coworker, supervisor, mentor, or friend.”

Sometime if I am on my own, and paralysed by ‘all this to do’ I will write to myself.  Writing to God is even more helpful. Did  you know He likes conversations as well as prayers?  Well, He does.

My husband, Brian, is a master of thinking simply – no he’s not ‘simple’!  He is able to clarify what needs to be done and then does it.  I am the more creative thinker and communicator but can be stymied by overthinking.  If he is around, then I can present my ‘all this to do’ frantic thinking and obtain his simplicity of thought.

Blog writing is good for people like me.  So much going on in my brain how to start an article, that book, that project…  Never get round to it.  But a blog? I can take the Nike approach:  just do it!

Another of Kate’s tips:

Structure your day for the things that matter most.

Hmm… Ah!  Get up and get going!

Just about to get out from under the duvet…

Have a good day everyone!

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Boiling frog syndrome… Yup, I got hot (or why I need to rehab myself).

It is true – it IS a psychological syndrome!  who knew!  I shouldn’t be cynical – I am still a psychologist.

The story of how the poor amphibian was enjoying its tepid bath and stayed so long it didn’t notice the water getting hotter and hotter until it was boiling alive, is also termed a ‘parable’ by Wiki wonderland.   If the frog was thrown into the boiling water it would jump out.

This syndrome or parable came to my mind when I realised that I was having health and well-being issues again.  I didn’t see how bad it had become till I was struggling enough to call a halt and shout help so I could ‘rehab’ my self and my life.

It was just easier for me to just keep going enough to manage the stresses and strains of impending relocation,  possible retirement, spouse’s health issues, adult children needing support, poorly grandchildren.  I had already stepped down from one on one counselling or coaching so at least in that I had identified I wasn’t functioning at the level I had been.

Changing seasons in the UK mean changing the type of clothes you wear. The cottons and linens get put away or kept somewhere on hand in case of a winter sun getaway. Sandals make way for boots and heavy shoes.  It was the fitted winter clothes that were far too tight around the middle that alerted me to exactly how much my girth had increased.

Most of us know these days that a real ‘baddie’ is fat round your middle.  Even when I was thinner I didn’t have much of a waist but when even jeggings get hard work to put on… well….

I know the theory of healthy living.  I watch documentaries, have studied the biological basis of psychology, human physiology.  I have been a returner to a certain weight watching program, counting whatever points they say I should.  The latter has changed over the years as updated research on weight loss suggests different balances for proteins, fats and sugars can assist in losing the pounds.

It is the stress and pressure that sends me into the mindset of ‘survival at all costs mode never mind the flippin’ points and I havent got time to go to the loo let alone exercise’. Just bring on the tea and cake – now!  I need to keep going…

It is generally agreed that some stress is good.  I have known someone get ill from a kind of boredom sickness.  No motivation and not enough to interest them in life.  I know that we get good input from being active and gaining achievements.  I am also aware that that needs to be balanced with feeling connected, being a part of something and giving yourself comfort and care.

This balance is very well described by Paul Gilbert, who wrote The Compassionate Mind and Compassion Focussed Therapy.   Likewise, ‘moderation in all things’ is one of those quotes where “I hear what you are saying” but struggle to implement the concept in my life.

I am just not designed that way.  I have a neurodiverse profile, a quick mind, I see things in insights, am better at leaping forwards towards a perceived outcome than following a process.  I take it up with God on a regular basis: “You made me this way!”   He smiles back and almost winks, “Yes, but I didn’t design the lifestyle you have apparently chosen.”

Did I choose the way I have been living, or, like my poor friend the frog, did I just let it get hotter and hotter till it was scalding me?

In moving house, as well as all my books and papers, I can see that I have brought my “stressed lifestyle” choices with me.

I have more things to sort out post move, but not things or stuff.  Rather, what choices and habits do I keep and what do I dump?  What needs a fresh approach, a change of mindset?

These questions are all part of the ‘rehab’ process… and I need to remember it is a PROCESS.  I cannot leap to the end but will walk the path step by step, seeking to enjoy each one.

Enjoy your path and journey!  See you later …

 

 

 

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“Never mind dear, learn to type.”

first typewriter lookalike

My education had to stop when I was 15 as our single parent and elderly person household was not able to manage without a little more income.

In preparation for NOT going to 6th form at the Ilminster Girls’ Grammar School, I was advised by my head teacher (wonderful but scary woman) to take typing and shorthand lessons and get some sort of qualification suitable for a working class young woman of slender means.

I remember the strain of carting my typewriter – similar to that in the photograph – across Chard, typing for the evening and then carrying it back home.   I did get both 25 and 35 wpm RSA typing certificates.  Shorthand – it didn’t happen. English is a struggle and being dyslexic and dyspraxia means that any symbols do not dig themselves into my memory very well.  It was the same with music theory…

However,  I am very glad indeed that I did get typing lessons as well as exercise for my bicep muscles.  Touch typing is a great skill to have in this computer age.  Upgrading to 60 wpm audio typing also got me a job when I desperately needed to put groceries on the table. That speed wasn’t achieved on an upright typewriter I hasten to add!

Computers have also supported me in my quest in my mid forties to upgrade my education.  Various software programmes have helped me organise myself, remember things and be able to get my thoughts out in some semblance of clarity.  Although being rather unhinged when numbers and arithmetic come into things, I took like a duck to water on the software for analysing social sciences data and I loved the graphics I could produce to visually explain my findings.    Nowadays, I can even speak into the computer and it types up my words (although my lingering Somerset accent with  soft consonants and broad vowels gives it a few puzzles…).  I still prefer to type though – I don’t misunderstand myself.

Out of need, in my late twenties, I learned the therapeutic value of writing out my frazzled emotions and tangled thoughts.  In the last five years or so my fingers and hands have decided to become tiresomely lacking in strength making it difficult for me to keep my hand-written journals. Hyper-mobile joints with lax tendons and ligaments rather than arthritic stiffness is the problem apparently. I have adjusted to writing my journal notes straight onto a keyboard with those touch typing skills coming into their own yet again.

I must admit that am glad that I do not have to haul a huge upright typewriter around with me anymore. It was hard when I was a teenager let alone now I am approaching my mid-sixties! I have a smallish bag with my iPhone, iPad, Bluetooth keyboard, various chargers and wifi equipment.

I remain grateful for the advice given to my 15 year old self, although I don’t think my head teacher expected me to go any farther than the typing pool and certainly not to a doctorate and private psychology practice!

 

 

 

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“OOSOOM” or “ISTMIM”

Yesterday you said tomorrowI was shocked – I really had forgotten all about what my psychiatrist had set me to do! I thought I was doing so well but had moved my focus onto working with my therapist.

Visual processing means that if I don’t see it, it doesn’t exist: Out Of Sight, Out Of Mind.

But equally, if it is IN sight (and there is a great deal in sight as on my admin desk at the current time) then it is ALL in my mind and it is overwhelming.

Feeling that the pile of papers I see is a mountain that cannot be climbed, I shuffle round it’s edges, tidying the mountain a little, but not actually making an attempt at ascending it.

Knowing that I am pretty good at many things can be forgotten when the shock of knowing I have forgotten something important comes flooding over me. Horror paralyses me: I have failed to do something I had agreed to do…

I have long since learned to tell the nasty gremlin voices to shut up. I know I am not a useless worthless person.

I have put something away that needed to be left in sight.

I have left out things that needed to be put out of sight.

ISTMIM: In Sight Too Much In Mind.

Wisdom – which is which?

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Peace Roses, aging and a mind that is like a Zoo

A Peace rose, lavender and thyme in our garden (C) Sharman Jeffries 2013

A Peace rose, lavender and thyme in our garden (C) Sharman Jeffries 2013

Everything in our home says ‘calm, rest here, be at peace’ – it was designed that way as we renovated our old property.  Even the roses in the garden are ‘Peace’ roses and there is a Quiet Room (summerhouse) at the bottom of the garden.

People come here, walk in the door and say “It’s so peaceful here.  Wonderful.”  Guests come to retreat with us and remark of the restfulness of the entire property.

I am so blessed to live here and offer the serenity of our home to others.  Do I feel that way though?

Not always!  It can be busy running a home and family, several businesses and the retreat.   But the busiest place has been in my mind …

I have attention deficit hyperactive asset (according to Dave Gilpin – see his Twitter page and Hope City Church UK) and have some amazing gifts and abilities but these need some good support to keep them positive.

The actress Betty Davis said: “Getting old isn’t for wimps” and how true that is!  I am now able in the UK to get free prescriptions (very useful – read on…) but have to wait another year and a month to be eligible for free bus pass and state pension (ouch – now you know how old I am!).   Things don’t work as well as they used to.  My slightly off beat brain needs a bit of support, my body needs regular exercise and it likes pretty sensible food and levels of alcohol.

Anywhere, where was I?  Oh yes, that happens too… the old cognitive processing systems seem to need a bit of oiling. I have always had ‘dyslexic moments’ where I could tell you the first letter of the word but not recall the word itself until after four or five shots of trying different ones out.  Now that has increased to a word or a name itself.

I don’t think I am at the stage yet portrayed so honestly in the film about literary and philosophy genius Iris Murdoch.  That was quite upsetting to watch yet so beautiful at the same time. I don’t think my loving spouse need worry about having to run down the road after me quite yet!  

However, back to main topic.  A busy mind, neurodiversity for the aged, and revelations…

I am planning to write up some academic papers long outstanding to submit for publication.  Am I up to the job given my present state of mental health?  Here is where the free prescriptions being so helpful comes in…  I take medication to calm my brain down and medication to calm myself down.  I am not however in a state of lethargy or vagueness… I feel more… LIKE ME!

Unlike Kay Redfield Jamison the fine author of a fine book, “Touched By Fire” (her autobiography “An Unquiet Mind” should also be read -or listened to as it comes on audio book also), I do not have to take and balance levels of Lithium for manic depressive illness (also called Bi polar disorder).

Stephen Fry has done excellent programmes on this illness, which he himself has, interviewing celebrities like Robbie Williams and Carrie Fisher (others are listed on Google: Vivien Leigh, Catherine Zeta Jones, Jean Claude van Damme,  Van Gogh to name a few ) .

I am not having the level of struggles of those creative wonderful people. I am hopeful that my support strategies and my medication can offset my busy mind, my post menopausal weird hormones and my tendency to collect gadgets and any form of information and knowledge indiscriminately – and thus I get all my filing systems, book cases, computer filing, email accounts clogged up.

Stephen Fry also collects gadgets … and sports cars apparently… out of my league!

I am very hopeful and quite excited to enter a new phase in my life and would offer you a poem written about my life without my strategies and supports:

My chattering mind.
It does seems to me that strange animals live inside my brain:
Some are woolly, jittery and ‘tiggerish’, others are still and wise.
 
It’s a funny thing to hear them chattering away to me, some contradicting the other.
There are times they all manage to be still when I’m without distraction or urgency
 
But this doesn’t happen often and extremes of noise or quiet may cause some of them to take fright, some become tired and confused, others begin to rant and rave.
 
Those tell me horrid, depressing things about myself that I don’t think are true. But they do make me doubt and I begin wonder if I am as awful as they say.
 
If I could choose, I would have just one animal in my head, perhaps an owl crossed with a worker ant: one useful, helpful creature instead of the cacophony of my zoo.
 
Imagine how wonderful a person I would be if I just had one crossbreed of practical and wise in my conscious mind, and not this contentious menagerie?
 
Ah well, I suppose I should just accept the diversity of my personal zoo and make sure I don’t pay attention to the wrong animal at the wrong time in the wrong situation. 
 
(c) Sharman Jeffries  19.6.02
 
 
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FaceBook facing up to who I am…

When I found out about Nancy Doyle’s company that supports, assesses and coaches people who are neurodiverse (ND) – GeniusWithin Ltd – I have to confess my emotional rollercoaster response took me aback.

I experienced joy, envy,  excitement and self-recrimination and my thoughts went something like this:

“It’s great that someone is promoting the Genius that is within people like me!  I wish I had built up that company, missed the boat now. They could even help me perhaps, that’s great! Why didn’t I build up something like that then, procrastinating again obviously. Need to do better.”

GeniusWithin Ltd’s FaceBook page http://www.facebook.com/GeniusWithinLtd?ref=ts&fref=ts shows a diagram of the positive attributes that may be found in people with a particular neurodiverse profile (from Mary Colley’s DANDA Venn diagram of the ND spectrum of difficulties).

(Thinks: “Why didn’t I think of doing that?” )

Anyone astute enough can see I do a good line in self criticism… even after all these years of personal development,  spiritual mentoring, counselling, supervision and coaching…  Sigh…

The title of a still relevant and useful but now very old book, says it all:  “Excuse me… Your Rejection Is Showing”.  (Noel and Phyl Gibson, 1990. Published by  Freedom In Christ Ministries Trust: Drummoyne, Australia).

I do have an early background of being (or feeling) rejected and/or abandoned.  One feels that after more than 30 years of working on the tendency to protect myself against being rejected again, feeling I don’t make the grade no matter how hard I work blah blah blah… bleat bleat bleat!  (no wonder humans were likened to sheep in the Bible…)

With a red face I recall that during the late 1990’s and early years in the new millenium, I wrote articles for Woman Alive magazine on related subjects: “Price of Perfection”; “Curse of Comparison”; “Do You Walk by Faith – or Limp” and “Mind Body and Spirit” (a few others too).

The one I notice I didn’t get round to finishing and get published had the working title: “Reject.”  The whole subject was linked in my mind to the children’s TV programme of the late 1980’s to mid 1990’s, “The Raggy Dolls”.

See http://http://www.classickidstv.co.uk/wiki/The_Raggy_Dolls

These toys were stamped ‘reject’ and thrown down the reject shute  because of various manufacturing faults. Yet they had really special adventures, were interesting characters despite not been stamped ‘accepted’ and supported one another.

The last chorus of the series’ song goes:

“It’s not much of a life when you’re just a pretty face. Just to be whoever you are is no disgrace. Don’t be scared if you don’t fit in, look who’s in the reject bin. It’s the Raggy Dolls, Raggy Dolls, dolls like you and me”

Perhaps I never finished writing the article not because I procrastinated (although that would be a possibility…) but because I wasn’t ‘brewed’ enough yet, I still struggled to put the “Accepted” label on myself.

GeniusWithin’s diagram of positive attributes for my particular ND profile (ADHD – I, dyspraxia, mild dyslexia and occassional Asperger type characteristics) indicates my attributes as

innovation, rapport, awareness of others, creative abilities, novel thinking, energy and passion, visual thinking, more creative abilities, connecting ideas, at times concentration and fine detail processing.

I posted that list on their comments box and commented excitedly: “I’m like an exotic flower in a bouquet of daisies. ” 

They posted back:

Yesss!!  what a lovely affirmation (Nancy does know me by the way)  ACCEPTED!

So, I make a decision today to accept myself (even if no one else does) and see that just because, like The Raggy Dolls, they didn’t fit someone’s criteria of acceptance,

 I AM ACCEPTABLE TO ME AND THE ONE WHO MADE ME!

 Everyone else: “Get over it!”

ANY OTHER ‘RAGGY DOLLS’ OUT THERE WANT TO JOIN ME?

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perception and bucket lists

Image

This I saw on Facebook.  I like the idea of seeing myself positively don’t you?

“What about realism though?”  you argue.  Well, yes, that would be good, but how many people have an over-inflated view of themselves?  Not that many, I would suggest, as many people I have counselled over the years see themselves as much less than they actually are.

This morning, while putting archive boxes for our business in our already heaving loft, I dropped a lid of a plastic storage box farther back than I could easily reach.  Annoyed because its dusty up there, getting down on my knees I saw a cardboard box and – as I often do – got distracted.  “I wonder what is in there?”

Lifting up the lid I saw several colourful lever arch files and two box files. The lever arch files contained journals written as therapy during my struggle to do my PhD.  The box files contained: YES! my original copies of my poetry (some dating back 25 years or more), articles, short stories and my early attempts at writing down my personal story.

Excited?  Yes very, and intrigued because at Christmas my other half’s brother-in-law (i know, family links are confusing…) gave us his ‘old’ lap top in case any of our adult kids needed one or knew someone who would benefit by having a lap top.  This lap top had an ‘A’ drive – floppy disks.  Bear with me here; the last time I was in the loft, I came across a floopy disk storage box with two disks in it:  my archived poetry, writing, short stories etc.

Put the two finds together and I find my heart leaping with a sense of anticipation and intrigue at coming across the hard copies and the computer files of my non-professional, non-academic work.

Still with me?  One of the tasks given to me the last time I saw my ADHD psychiatrist was to write up a plan to breakdown the first of the academic papers I had outstanding.  Anti-procrastination exercise.  I mentioned that my back log of paper writing had been causing me concern because no matter how I thought I ‘must do this’, I never seemed to get going on it:  other more immediately gratifying tasks or crises got in the way.  I dutifully completed this task – I am paying the guy! – and furthering it to include other papers on my list of things to do at some point (I think it was becoming a ‘bucket list’!), I started to wonder about my creative, literary and therapeutic journal writing…  was I ever going to do that before I swanned off to Heaven?

Two things have miraculously emerged at almost the same time. I reckon this is a ‘sign’.

I have decided to view myself positively like the old girl in the cartoon.  I am more than capable of finishing my academic writing and now and then blogging my poetry, short stories and so on during that time.  I can treat myself with some creative blogging as a carrot to help me drag through some of the dry formal prose needed to get my papers published.

Later on after my list of projects have been done, I can address the issue of publishing more of my writing in a different format… unless Heaven comes first of course?

(C) drsharman.wordpress.com/ 2013

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Serendipity and sensitivity.

I managed to get my contact lens stuffed up into my eyeball last night – uurgh! (end of day tired and rubbed my eyes; I know, but I forgot I was wearing lenses and not my glasses through which I see much better these days of juggling short-sightedness with my aged need for reading glasses) I hoped it would clear this morning but, no, still lodged somewhere.  I worried it had got into my brain or nose because I nearly passed out when getting dressed, felt rather hot and sick and the nose is still running three weeks after i caught my baby grandson’s cold.

A call to several opticians and I got an appointment at Horsham 10.30 am.  Loads of time…  so I got involved in something and then “Its 10 o’clock!” came from Brian’s office.  Oh oh…I had to drive .. quite fast… to get to my appointment on time.  Then I had to wait.  so my blood pressure had gone up for nothing? Well, no. Serendipitously I found a useful article for my daughter whilst waiting:  how to deal with school age tantrums.  What do you do when your six year old is behaving like his two year old sister (she’s watching angelically of course: “me? behave like that?  of course not.”  So, it happens beyond two and before the teenage tantrum stage…  normal.  oh good.  So, my dear, its NOT your parenting or the fact you are a working mother (guilt ridden as they all are in my experience): it happens.

The optician (very kind young lady – nice outfit) successfuly managed to get the wandering lens out with the help of some dye to make it visible and a damp cotton bud.  Phew… The lens out, I wondered why I still felt giddy, hot and rather unwell.  As I was in town, I did a few errands – birthday presents and cards for next set of grandchildren to need remembering, bits and pieces in the chemists which I can’t get in the tiny towns locally…

Ok, still hot, head pounding and giddy.  Chemist.  Pharmacist.  They are good if you get a relatively un-busy one. Great, she was available and smiling:  could she help?  Yes please.  Just how long does a cold and catarrh last? “I think it’s a viral thing. plenty of liquid, rest, paracetamol and wait for it to pass.”  Great.

Son phones, upset because someone ‘had a go at him’.  He assures me he knows he shouldn’t take it so personally.  Dyslexia and dyspraxia make it hard to understand complex matters over the telephone.  ADHD makes it hard not to want a current stressful situation TO BE OVER NOW!  Hard to explain to others who are on the receiving end of your “please explain that again? can you write it down for me? Sorry but can you get back to me?” (twice asked on text and phone). He is going to switch phone off and go home to missus and baby and not think about anything more tonight.

Good idea.  I think I’ll do the same…  Switch brain off…

Yes, I will follow my prescription: bath, paracetemol, rest with a non-study book, listen to some good meditative music, get significant other to do dinner and pour me a glass of chilled white wine.

What do you mean, ‘the pharmacist didn’t mention the last two on that list’?  Well, I’m a doctor and I’ve just prescribed them for myself.