So I begin a thread..
a path I tentatively tread..
A little dread of what is to come.
But I should have no fear.
As those that are close to me are near.
Must work my stress and be ME…
Welcome to my CBT.
So here we go. What is CBT? Cognitive Behaviour Therapy. Please see other pages on this site for a clear description. I shall assume that if you’re reading this then you know the principles of this process.
Why am I trying it? Because it has been recommended as an appropriate therapy given my circumstances at this time and I trust the people who made the recommendation.
What are my circumstances? I guess it would be best to spend a little time outlining my condition and current state of mind so that others who can relate to my particular difficulties can follow the process with a greater empathy. Those who carry different burdens will hopefully draw experience from the process of CBT I hope to write about with clarity and accuracy as it affects me and my condition.
I have spent my entire adult working life in the entertainment industry. I am self- employed. These days I have ten staff whom work with me in production and we make documentary programmes on special interest topics. These are broadcasted on television or/and distributed on DVD.
I have always lived beyond my means, taken on too much work, lived a life of self created stress and deadlines and have probably thrived on the adrenalin and pressure produced. I have been “used to it”. I have my methods of coping.
But in reality I have always had a switch off by artificial means and from age 16 to circa 45 I smoked cannabis every evening. During those three decades I probably drank no more that 100 litres of alcohol in total. But I became aware through my partner that my nature was changing as I began to smoke earlier in the days and was spaggy if I couldn’t get to a joint. I’d also start to get too concerned if supply was getting low. I was always unable to have it around and NOT smoke.
So I quit. It took two years. Then though I did begin to drink more. Good wines and ports slowly but surely led onto Vodka and Tango. The effects of which we all know.
My nature is addictive. Work, adrenalin, drugs, alcohol, sex. Striving for “perfection” in art. My private life is complicated. And I have many responsibilities.
All was going pretty good really until along came a nasty recession and then cashflow hell hit. And suddenly all that I had built for all those that depended on me was greatly threatened. All because I’d over committed my finances both business and personal and not enough pound coins were coming in to cover the number required going out.
I am not alone with this situation. But it started to affect my sleep. And I found myself conking out early through too much alcohol and then waking all the time, sitting up and looking at the clock wondering if it was time to go to work and try to deal with the problems. At 1am this is not a good idea. Nor is at 1.47am. Or 2.20am or 3.15am etc.
Anxiety increased as I fought my fires. And got more and more stressed as now I had not only responsibility to my family but also to ten employees who depended on me for THEIR livelihoods and income.
In January I also developed a terrible dose of internal piles. And one of them coagulated. A vein blocked, went hard and sat there on my nervous system. And do what I could, they wouldn’t stop hurting and they wouldn’t go away.
More stress, more anxiety at a time when I felt I needed to be even more effective than normal. So I went to the doctor and asked for some sleeping tablets. Despite a life of cannabis etc I’ve never been keen on pills. Zolpidem was prescribed and I was warned that although they would help me get to sleep, the problems that were causing the stressful sleep patterns would NOT go away.
As the piles failed to improve so I got more anxious and took the tablets nightly until after six weeks they were most definitely having a negative effect. I began to shut myself away in my offices, my pile cushion and I. A lifetime of being gregarious and loud; fading fast into isolation and anxiety.
Then my soul mate and partner told me this was just not right.. and that I must get to the doctors again and start to deal with a worsening condition. So typically I just stopped the Zolpidem at a weekend when I was alone and the physiological reaction was really “unpleasant” as a massive band of tension and tightness wrapped itself round my entire chest and abdomen. The 3 nights of Friday to Sunday were appalling but I decided I had to go cold turkey. Despite advice that this was not a wise process.
On the Saturday night though I ironed for 4-5 hours.. everything I could find as I thought at least standing I could ease the piles ironically.
And suddenly while ironing after six weeks of pain and pressure they started to feel better. I wondered if my mental state was expressing itself through my butt frankly. Was this another symptom of the stress?
A week ago Monday 23rd I went to see the butt specialist. He marched up me with a camera where no film crew would be bold enough to venture, confirmed that my piles were most definitely going, asked me why I was bouncing all around his office in such a state and suggested I consider CBT. My partner immediately agreed. She has wisdom that I do not.
2 hours later we went to the GP. Told him I’d cold turkey’d the Zolpidem and could I try something to calm me down a bit while we dealt with more of the fires that were causing me problems and explored the availability of CBT. He prescribed Diazepam 2mg.. 3 times a day if required.
I took one and within ten minutes the band went from my chest and abdomen. No drowsy stuff, no nothing. Just some respite. A good start. But a lesson had been learnt about pills and me.
Took another at bedtime. And had a better night. Only woke twice. Struggled to get back to sleep but not too bad.
However I also booked a session of CBT with a “proper clinic” and qualified staff at a town 15 miles away for the Wednesday 25th.. Cost £46.
On the Tuesday 24th I had a call from my GP advising he’d found a CBT therapist located just 1 mile from my home. I rang her and made an immediate appointment for that day. Cost £35.
I went. Partner came with me. Very nice lady. Aromatherapy candles were burning. Magazines on a table. Comfy (ish) chairs. Cold room she was trying to heat with portable gas fires. Badly printed literature that was hardly readable. She listened, I listened. She got my Christian name wrong 3 times before I decided to correct her. When I referred to going from cannabis to hooch she asked me how many alcopops I drank per evening! This was not to be the therapist for me.
The next day I took a Diazepam and I went to the clinic with my partner. It was brightly lit. Not a candle in sight. “Hello Liam” greeted me as I walked in and a lady with bright direct and caring eyes offered her hand, shook mine and directed me to a comfy safe room, full of books, coffee table, box of tissues and plastic cup of cold water.
I sat. We sat and she asked a few questions and wanted to know why I had come and what I was looking for.
I spilt the beans and read out the statement I’d written for myself two hours earlier. “I am no longer able to cope with the stress and over burdened life I’ve created for myself”. And I cried.
We talked. I listened; she listened. Her face worked for me. So did her voice and the words she spoke. She outlined the process of CBT and what we would hope to achieve. And we made an appointment to meet again this week and diary dated the next four weeks.
She gave me legible literature, shook my hand and sent me on my way.
I have found someone I can trust and have faith in her experience and work. I believe that she cares about her patients with patience and that I will be able to change the way I cope and find new strategies whilst at the time working the issues, problems and hurdles that are still in the way, need to be faced and overcome.
Today I had the second session. But writing the above is enough for now and there is the need to tell the tale of the last week BEFORE my second session and the true recognition that I am not well and there is no quick fix.
But the lesson of the week for me when considering CBT was that it is important to find the right therapist for the job and your nature. Not the nearest or cheapest although that would have been very handy, convenient and cost saving. Seeing two helped me assess not only their approaches but the reality of their qualifications and real experience. And MY nature needed to find those answers for me to risk the trust and respect necessary to open up as best I can.. and search for new ways to be me.
“I am now learning new ways to cope with the stress and over burdened life I’ve created for myself”.
Back again tomorrow to carry on this thread with the week of revelation and the second session. Thanks to those who have read. I hope it will have some value to those considering and waiting for CBT. In the meantime may I wish all those who find sanctuary and comfort here at NMP a very good night.
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