My view is a sideways segment of the field that my home overlooks. I lay on my side upon my bed. The thick duvet padding a luxury bonus to the memory foam mattress that knows exactly the position I favour. I am only one metre from the window and the view always mesmerizes me. I never truly appreciated the variety of shades of green that exist. I don’t think I could even give them all a name. Green was just green, maybe there was light and dark? Teal has always been a favourite colour of mine and Lime green, Lime is a fluorescent vision in my mind. But these greens aren’t in the field I look upon, although every other green imaginable must be there. It is calming. I find the simplistic pleasure of seeing the setting sunlight cast its glow over the field takes me away from my anxiety for a moment. For a moment I know I am a small piece of this world and need not worry as I do, it is bliss.

I am safe in this spot, laying here calmly, very much like my cat. She has her safe places where she relaxes and sleeps. This is mine. I only want to see the greens and the sunlight and blues in the sky. I focus on them I look for the patterns and shades and watch the wind gently bustle at the trees and shrubs.

I let my mind wonder, I let my eyes wonder, back to that spot. I see the red blood and I remember this beautiful, safe calming view has changed for me. I fight with my brain to bring back the tranquillity and forget everything red and only see the green. This is the only safe place I have ever known. I simply do not know how to cope with the change in my relationship with it. The anxiety stirs, the memories are calling me. Did I really do that? Did I really face so much and survive?

‘Jess’

‘Jess, Dinners ready’

“Ok, coming”

I managed two minutes of peace and calm today. I should be recognising this as an achievement.

I shouldn’t be using should, should or should’ve….               

Hunger and a feeling of obligation to eat the delicious fresh cooked dinner my husband has made stir me to move from my side and gradually lift my head and stand by my bed. I face the window once more and glance. The enormity of the past few months still dawning upon me. The red blood stained grass still a vivid image.

The delicious fresh cooked dinner nourishes me and lifts my soul. The conversation and company bring me out of my reverie temporarily.

TV on the sofa afterwards allows my mind to wonder back though. I always remember the phrase ‘the mind jumps like a monkey’ how true it is. A happy exhilarating moment can be followed by an intrusive painful thought. But that means it can work the other way around to. The painful thoughts can disappear, float away and new one’s float in. I often try to picture this in my mind. I imagine clouds floating in the sky and gliding gently around in the breeze, while I lay on the cool crisp grass gazing up. I equate this to thoughts coming and going and the separateness of the clouds and my body a metaphor for my body and my mind. They aren’t really part of me they just float in and then float out. I don’t have to latch on to them unless I choose to.  

I have a long way to go towards mastering this theory and being able to practise it well. One thing I know certainly has changed over the last few months, is my faith in myself. I know for certain I can make changes and I can handle far more than I believed I could. That sentence was so simple to write and writing doesn’t do it justice because it is such a BIG step forward on my climb of that ladder. the one your therapist will say you can only take one step at a time on. I was going backwards from the ground down. Now I’m a few rungs up. The view ahead is better already and there is a level of belief when before there were none.