Work in progress

A work in progress:

If you haven't caught it before, I am a work in progress. This blog is called MuSings of a wounded spirit that is now healing, because I am just that... A wounded spirit that is healing. As a counsellor it was hard for me to accept that I was suffering greatly from depression. I had known for years that I suffered from agoraphobia and was actively participating in modifying my behaviour with different cognitive-behavioural techniques. My faulty thinking caused the abnormal behaviour that my body was reacting to. Panic attacks have got to be one of the worst feelings, but also I suffered from a mild form of Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. I disliked not being in control of my environment therefore in order to overcome my the panic attacks caused by stress I would obsess over tiny things like is the damn door locked. Yup I pulled it exactly 3 times..... then I had to walk back and pull it 3 more to double check. I was pretty quiet with my routine. No one knew. Eventually I could get away with endless mental checklists in my brain. There was a routine in everything I did. It still comes out in my daily behaviour like listening for the click of my daughters seat belt before I drive away..... and then asking her just before we leave the parking lot if she is buckled up. I figure it is okay to obsess about things like that. I still pull my house door knob 5 times to double check if it's really locked. As for other places. I make sure that someone else locks it so I don't have to check. It's these little tricks that make me able to function in society. It took me for ever to learn how to drive a car because the world is so big and I am so small. My nav system became my friend and allowed me the freedom to travel to places I would have never dreamed of going. Sometimes I feel as if I am a sheep herder when I am in an unfamiliar place. I must maintain a line of site with my loved ones, just in case one of them may wonder off. I also went to these distant places knowing that this is what normal people do. My girlfriend at the time laughed because I was white knuckled driving all the way. She didn't understand it was not the traffic that I was worried about, but the road that I had never travelled with all it's new bumps and ridges and what if the tire blew I didn't know where all the safe spots were.

You might think this a strange way to live, but to me it is normal. I obsess over things and fear plays a dark role in my life. But, with all the quirks and darkness comes passion. I can't understand why people are so dispassionate in life. I love to watch people in their element, where they shine and become beautiful. I see beauty in odd things and wonder why other people can't see them too. I often wonder what robs them of this passion and why they feel they must rob others of passion. I don't fit in with normal society. I may say something or do something and people may take it the wrong way, but the truth of the matter is....I would rather wound myself than intentionally hurt another living being. And then I think... Sure I have to check the door multiple times, I've never been able to finish a meal at a restaurant with out feeling like I have to run outside for air because I'm trapped and the thought of driving in new area's scares the hell outta me, but I'd rather live with those quirks than be of the mindset that it's okay to hurt people.

May favourite spoken word poem so far here.

I don't see much wrong in his thinking.