By Stephie, on Friday 20th May, 2011 at 11:04 am
Colour. I needed some. Pains in my calves forced a ‘no running’ policy for a few days, so I decided the scritch of the hoe at the allotment could also take a break at the weekend in favour of making something. I’ve been suppressing the urge to make something for weeks. Or to finish something. Anything. But I had to focus on the planting or I’d have no food to harvest later in the year. And what’s an allotment without the anticipation of a bumper harvest full of goodly things? So come Saturday I was in a good mood and looking forward to a bit of stitching. I settled on making something simple and brightly coloured, a belated gift for my young niece. Everything’s been belated round here lately: birthdays been and gone; official forms to complete still buried in stacks, not to mention the housework. I decided to ignore all that and indulge myself instead. I dug out brightly coloured fabrics and began to play. I planned a small pyjama case, something that would look like a little cushion on her bed.
 Sleep Tight I started with a small embroidered patch, 3/4 an hour of backstitching to get me in the groove. But when I started on the sewing machine the groove and good mood all but blew away in an instant. Sewing the pieces together was straightforward enough, but as soon as I wanted to do some free embroidery, Mrs Jones decided not to play ball. For some reason I still can’t fathom, the damn machine refuses to pick up the lower thread. The expletives burst forth from my mouth as easily as the frustration had risen through my body. There is no logic to the machine’s refusal to do this when it does everything else I want it to. I changed the needle, I rethreaded the machine umpteen times, I re-spun the bobbin, I de-fuzzed the feed-dogs, even though they didn’t need doing. I played with the top tension, I played with the lower tension, I even got out the instruction book despite the fact that the machine is 25 years old and I know it from back to front. Okay, I told myself, trying to calm down, a creative person would come up with another solution: in the ditch quilting and zig-zag applique. Have you tried zig-zagging round a shape smaller than a penny piece? It doesn’t work, meh. Dissatisfied I put the unfinished work on the corner of the kitchen surface. It’s where I keep a lot of sewing things. I have too much kitchen surface and not enough storage space. Finish it tomorrow I thought. Sunday morning. I wander in to the kitchen. As you do. I put the kettle on. As you do. I look down and see this. Sorry if you’re squeemish…
 Not nice  I guess most people would squeal, pick it up, chuck it out and put it out of their minds. Forever. But seeing this on Sunday morning did something completely unexpected: it put me in a very low mood. (Thanks cat.) As I stared, glazed, at the carnage, I experienced a physical feeling of something sliding down through my body, like lava. Seeing this triggered off all sorts of thoughts: feelings of being dessicated like one of the birds I have stashed away; remembering why I was so fascinated with lifeless vessels in the first place. But they weren’t clear thoughts and I could feel myself disassociating. It’s hard to describe this to someone that hasn’t experienced it, but it’s like watching the last glow of an incandescent bulb as it disappears to nothing and becomes cold. It’s an altered state of consciousness where you feel outside of your own body and that everything is slowed right down. You’re no longer participating in what’s going on around you, thoughts are difficult to pin down, sounds are merged and it feels like there’s a major delay between what your eye can see and the message it sends to the brain. It’s a familiar place. Psychologists tell me it’s a defence mechanism against trauma, a safe place to go. (Why didn’t they like me going there then?!!) I was in this state for most of the day. I went through the motions of washing the patchwork, trying to remember how to be mindful and be in the ‘present moment’, using the physical rubbing as a way to ‘bring myself back’. Did it work? I don’t think so. With my hands in the water rubbing the embroidered patch the irony of seeing the words ‘sleep tight’ alongside half a dead rabbit wasn’t lost on me. I’m sure I would have laughed if I wasn’t in this state, but it just reminded me of my artworks and I shut down another notch.
I don’t remember most of the rest of the day, but I think I spent it sat on the sofa under a half finished quilt. I remember being cold. When I finally, slowly seemed to come round I did a actually manage to finish the project. And was very happy with the results! It’s bright, cheerful and fun, but I’m not going to publish the pictures in this post, I don’t want THE photo above to sully them, so I’ll put them up separately later on! Thankfully Sunday seemed to be the only day for disassociation and on Monday I was back to being cheerful and positive again. I worry though, I don’t want to take these ‘happy’ feelings for granted, Sunday just went to prove how quickly they can dissolve – like the flick of a switch!
By Stephie, on Friday 25th February, 2011 at 15:00 pm
Heart pounding. The effort in my arms screaming to stop, my legs driving round the track as hard as they could, my head telling me that it’s not hard enough, that I’m so far behind everyone else I must be totally crap. Who do you think you are taking up this sport at 46 years old and wanting to be any good, wanting to keep up with others 20 years your junior. You’re so rubbish you can’t even beat 70 year olds in a 10k race. The tears in my eyes were nothing to do with having reached my lactate threshold. “Talk yourself into it, not out of it”, a coach said to me. At that point I could have sobbed my heart out: I realised that once again my shitty inner voice was out to destroy any minuscule self-confidence or positive thoughts I might have risked allowing myself. And it had taken someone else’s throwaway comment for me to see it. After years of therapy I still didn’t see it. I felt like I’d just run into an 8′ high brick wall, been stopped in my tracks and winded. It was a rough session, hideous. 7 x 800m flat out. But I learnt a valuable lesson: achieving anything really is a state of mind. You do have to talk yourself into it, not out of it. That was Tuesday.
Wednesday was club night. I went with a different attitude. I was cautious. That voice creeps in so easily, without me even noticing it’s there. I feel like I have to be vigilant, constantly alert to it and the damage it does. Don’t underestimate how tiring this is. The voice is relentless, pervasive and has been there throughout my life. It’s no easy task to turn it off. I could have taken an easier session at the club on Wednesday night, gone for a steady 5 mile run. But I decided to do the coached session, a gruelling slog 4 times up and down a very long, steep hill. I wanted to prove to myself that after ‘falling off the horse’ on Tuesday night I could get straight back on on Wednesday. And yes I was at the back, but I was running at my lactate threshold again and that really is the best anyone can do. Doing any more than that is detrimental. I have a heart rate monitor so I can prove to myself that I was working at 85% of my maximum heart rate. And by doing this I will get stronger and I will get faster, that’s the only possible outcome. I was on a high on Wednesday evening. What a difference a day makes. And a good self-talking to.
By Stephie, on Tuesday 1st February, 2011 at 12:05 pm
I met someone yesterday for the first time in a year. That evening I felt flat and empty. I still do. I don’t know whether the two are connected but I’m trying not to analyse it. What’s the difference between analysing something and reflecting on it anyway? I analyse things too much, so I’m told, need to have answers when there aren’t any or they don’t help you move on. That was something else I was brought up on today “moving on means leaving things behind, moving forward means taking it with you”. Semantics, I thought. I mean, can you ever really leave anything behind, doesn’t every experience go with you? I am the sum of my experiences after all. It’s my experiences that cause me to behave in a certain way, whether I choose to be aware of how those experiences affect me and then act differently or not. Without those experiences I wouldn’t have had that choice.
So what is the difference between reflection and analysis? I’m buggered if I know. On reflection I’d say the ‘meeting’ was positive, so maybe it’s the next bit that’s the analysis then: “If it was positive, why do I feel so crap?”. I wonder if it’s this part that I’m meant to let go of, just accept that that’s the way I feel. I do have a mood disorder after all, it is possible that the two aren’t connected.
Am I giving you a headache? I won’t invite you into my head then, it’s worse in here I can tell you! This is why I have to make things, do things – it’s my way of turning it off.
I’m off to do some drawing. And some cleaning. And start a new website for my running club. And go running. That’s the day sorted, so what can I distract myself with this evening?!
Catch you later, love Stephie x
By Stephie, on Friday 19th November, 2010 at 12:43 pm
 A stunning walk through the woods at Trelissick Autumn colour has been spectacular this year, the whole landscape seems to be glowing. Burnt reds and oranges, bright yellows and vivid greens have been tickling my creative drive recently, filling me with ideas for potential projects.
Quite frankly I need it. I’ve needed something to take my mind off the trials and tribulations of what feels like endless repairs to this Macbook and the ensuing down time. I’ve followed Apple’s recommendation too and have bitten the £120 bullet, splashing out on the latest Mac box set, which includes Snow Leopard and new versions of iLife and iWork. So far, so good and I’m really enjoying being here again. I can’t fault the service I’ve received under the Apple care plan and the guys at my local Stormfront store have been great. They even know me by name now. Which isn’t such a good thing, apparently!
I’ve been experiencing a different sort of ‘down-time’ too. The mood sort. The general trend of my moods has been slowly dropping for months now and lately I’m finding it increasingly difficult to hide. I sit here alone with tears rolling down my face for reasons I don’t really understand, and often for no reason at all. I become my harshest critic, causing even more damage, but feeling that that’s all I deserve, all I’m worth. But I keep on running and I keep on making things (often throwing them away or destroying them afterwards). I feel like I’m constantly drowning, but just manage to keep my head bobbing above the water by grasping at any flotsam on the surface. Then I let go as soon as I realise it’s not going to keep me afloat and I grasp helplessly around for something else. So I do too much and feel like I’ve accomplished nothing. Vicious circles. Cycles I recognise, but have no idea how to get out of.
Then one day this week an email from Big Think dropped into my inbox and I came across this article. I listened to it with interest, but thinking it would be simplistic and not apply to me because I’m way beyond being unhappy! Even so, there was one point that I felt I could try and reflect on more positively…
5 Steps for Being Happier Today
No 1. Accept painful emotions? Ahem, I have so many of them I’m not sure I have a choice!
No 2. Texting whilst with your friends? I don’t do that, ‘cos when I’m with my friends I’ve got no-one to text anyway!
No 3. With the amount of exercise I do AND the amount of “powerful psychiatric drugs” I take, how come I’m not ecstatically happy all the time 
No 5. GUILTY. I think this is so true, but I’ve developed a way of coping with (avoiding) my depression by doing as much as I can so that I don’t have time to think. It’s not a good tactic and it really doesn’t work! (For one thing, you feel bad for having so many unfinished things on the go!)
No 4. I like this idea. I think I could do worse than to reflect on some of these, so to get started here are 5 things I’m grateful for (I love the fact that it’s “grateful for” and not ‘happy about’ or ‘made you smile today’):
 1. The most beautiful woodland walk in the company of a very special friend  2. The clear blue skies this autumn  3. Still being able to find something beautiful, even when it rains  4. Having the time to look around me  5. Still finding inspiration to make things, even when I feel least like doing it. I hope you’re having a good week and that the sun is shining and the leaves are gold for you too. I have some things to show you that I’ve made over the last couple of weeks (yep, there are some things I haven’t destroyed. Yet!), so pop by soon, it would be lovely to see you again.
love Stephie x
By Stephie, on Monday 1st November, 2010 at 02:32 am
 Towards Falmouth - and the clouds drift by... Oh me oh my. It’s been almost three weeks. Three very long weeks without a computer. I felt like I’d lost my right arm…
I don’t know where to begin today, except to say hello and that I’ve missed you all very much. My beloved Macbook had a funny turn and needed a new hard-drive. The third one in its relatively short life. Unusual for a Mac, but despite the traumas I still wouldn’t go back to a PC. No, instead I’m going to spend what for me is a small fortune on an upgrade to the latest OS, iWork and iLife, and at a later date another gig of RAM. I just hope this new hard-drive can keep it together until then…
I wonder what you’ve been up to over the last few weeks? I can barely remember what I’ve been doing, though I recollect a lot of ruminating and soul searching. And depression. Depression that isn’t Mac related I have to point out. It’s the other sort that’s been dragging me down. Again. Walking in treacle they say. More like drowning in it if you ask me. I’ve been trying to do things, keep moving, keep getting out of bed, but I look back and I can’t see anything that I’ve actually done, achieved, completed. The house is a tip, the garden is overgrown, the allotment is undug, onions not planted, gloves knitted and unknitted, a quilt unfinished, ignoring the pain in my knees and ankles just to keep running, keep going, keep alive. Look for the beauty I tell myself, stay in the moment. But moments pass, fleeting and misty. But I still look. Hoping.
I think I’ll try and get back into the blogging groove by showing you some of the things I’ve looked at over the last couple of weeks. They’re significant to me, but generally it’s not the looking that’s kept me going, it’s the people; the close and supportive friends, the ones that give you a hug for no reason, other than they seem to know you need one, and the new friends from afar that you feel you know already 
 Out for a run. Looking at the textures.  And contrasts.  Remembering the sheep in the snow.
 Grateful for the escape. And knowing they're loved.  A lot.  Seeing the change.  Watching the squirrels.  Thinking of blood.  And veins.  Hoping for inspiration
 And colour through the grey.
Continue reading Looking. And missing.
By Stephie, on Thursday 9th September, 2010 at 13:53 pm
a right pain in the knee (Or a pain in the right knee to be precise.) Until now my training for the Eden half marathon has been going reasonably well. But there has to be a spanner in the works somewhere along the way and I guess it might as well happen now, whilst there’s still time to recover. I’m not a happy bunny though; I can’t really afford to lose any training days. But I’m trying to be good and rest it, so for a few days I’ve been gnashing my teeth desperate to get out on some trails and have some tortuous fun. The more I do it, the more I like this running lark and the more I run off road, the more and more I like it! I think I’ve found my running niche. It makes sense really. I’ve always loved hiking long distances in beautiful and sometimes daunting and challenging surroundings, so I guess I was going to like running in those surroundings too.
 First aid kit What’s brought on this annoying injury though, I hear you ask. Well, I don’t put it down to overuse, unlike my last pair of running shoes, which got a whole lot more overuse than they deserved. They were so comfortable I didn’t want to give them up. But, seriously, needs must, as you can see.
 As tired as my legs! Enter the new, sleek trail running shoes, a very generous and much appreciated birthday present. They have a Goretex lining and keep my feet oh so dry; they have gel in the soles, so I feel like I’m running on air; they fit the narrow width of my foot perfectly; and, well, they look quite pretty too. When I put them on in the shop they felt like they’d been made especially for me. And for the first few short runs you couldn’t have convinced me otherwise. But after an 8 mile run in Norfolk I began to feel the pain. The right side of the right shoe, under the ankle, seemed to be pressing hard on a tendon. I rested it and it was ok, until I did my next long run of 10 miles last Sunday. I’d loosened the laces around the ankle but was aware that the shoe was still pressing against it as I ran. When I finished I couldn’t touch my ankle for the pain and I noticed that my knee was hurting too. I suspect now that the knee pain is because I was compensating for the pain in my ankle by running at a silly angle or something, you know what I mean I’m sure!
 Only a few miles on these ones So, what to do? Well, rest up for a few days with the sweetcorn obviously, but what to do about the shoes? I was itching to go out for a run and I decided that two whole days sat on my backside was more than I could bare and just a short 15 minute or so run on soft ground wouldn’t hurt. Then I got to thinking that if I could somehow raise my ankle in the shoe perhaps the ankle pressure would go away. So I bought some of these heel pads. I won’t claim a miracle cure, because I did go for an albeit very short run when my knee and ankle were still hurting (though not as much), but it does seem to have made a significant difference. My heel is definitely higher in the shoe and that combined with very much looser lacing around the right ankle was much more comfortable. Maybe now I should rest it completely so that I can test it properly, but I’m not sure I can sit still for too long! Still, a short WALK in the shoes shouldn’t be off the agenda, should it?
In my ‘no more running for you mate’ mode a couple of interesting things have happened. I’ve entered another half marathon – next weekend, eek, in my home town of Truro. I was persuaded it would be a good warm up for the real thing, the Eden half marathon on the 10th of October. Erm, well maybe, we shall see. (You can still sponsor me to do it you know, just click on the red button thingy at the top of the page!) But, how could I resist, I mean it’s running on a lot of the routes I’ve been doing on my training runs – surely you don’t get that sort of opportunity very often? In for a penny, in for a pound and all that… And the other thing? Ah, well sat here on my bum I came across a wonderful blog Dirty Running, it’s really inspiring and funny and a great way to keep myself motivated whilst I’m sat here ‘recovering’. I URGE you to check it out. Yes, it’s that good
Now then, where did I put those running shoes?
Catch you later!
Stephie x
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I'm running a 28 mile marathon in memory of Josie this February. Come and find out why.
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