I really want to write something profound this week. I feel a strong blog might reflect the acute awakenings that only a great family holiday in Ibiza can provoke. I don’t like that first sentence, I’ve been back over it so many times, and I can’t get anywhere with it so I’m leaving it to get this darn post up that I’ve been torturing myself with all week, hanging over me on that black cloud to-do list. So, if you don’t like it either, I’m with you – you don’t need to tell me.
We went to Ibiza for ten days – me, my husband, the twins, my stepson and his wife, and a family friend who helped us with the girls. I used to live in Ibiza, spending my early years of sobriety there – something people find hard to believe. It is said that whatever is bubbling under the surface will come out on the island of the pines. I’ve drafted a novel mainly set there, gone very off piste, written some new material that takes it to Cornwall, and ended up back down the south westerly direction towards Es Vedra, right around the corner from where we stayed this time.
Whether the island draws out darkness or not, some downtime and sunshine can really give you time to think – holidays are so worth the money and effort, even though my OCD tells me otherwise. I remember reading the intro or prologue to The Beach, Alex Garland’s debut VERY famous novel that got turned into a film (I’ve tried to find this excerpt but haven’t been able to, only a brilliant intro by John Niven on its 25th anniversary – so you’ll have to take my word for it, or maybe I made it up, but I think makes sense, anyway).
Garland (I think, and sorry Alex if you’re reading this – unlikely but I live in hope) talked about going to his Dad asking him to borrow money to go travelling, his Dad questioning this, and him explaining to his father that it was such a necessary, life changing thing – aside from seeing different cultures, to also take a helicopter view of your life and see the good and bad. Some kind of inventory from afar. I read it before I went travelling in 2001, as I went to see where the film was made in Thailand after that. I must have been about 19 – but even then it resonated with me, stuck with me, affected me emotionally, as does the soundtrack with Leo reciting the film script about finding a beach and having some kind of awakening. It’s clichéd but I do really love it.
A significant number of novels since have affected me in the same vein, which is why I am having a stab at writing my own. More will be revealed about that, save I am procrastinating and talking about other peoples’ work and not my own.
I read Coco Mellors’ first novel Cleopatra and Frankenstein with unabated abandon on Cala Vedella beach during this recent sojourn.
**SPOILER ALERT**
I loved it for many reasons. Firstly, how it documents addiction – pretty much every central character has some kind of addictive process, and I think the author’s argument here is that most people do (her characters say it’s everyone in New York City, but the web is of course wider). Secondly, and what I found the most pertinent, is that the two main characters in the aforementioned title come from families where relationships just weren’t modeled, and this reflects in the dysfunctional and ultimately doomed relationship they have with each other.
**END OF SPOILER**
It got me thinking about my love for literature (again), and how I didn’t want to be a therapist any more, and only a writer. A bit of a strong thing to put on here, given that one of the reasons I write this blog is to market myself as a therapist.
Although I haven’t travelled much since having the twins five years ago, I do know my mind well enough to know that holidays create these Shirley Valentine ‘big think’ moments. I don’t mean running off with someone else, I just mean a total change of… something…. perhaps because the scene had changed, I wanted to change. In my mind, this is a blessing and curse. It’s great to take a step back and look at things, but my addicted, ADHD, OCD mind wants to rapidly and sometimes destructively change something, instead of staying with it.
Thankfully I’ve been walking this path to know my mind will jump around to a hundred things at any given moment. Will I buy, hypothetically speaking said ‘thing’ is another matter (let’s not go there with my penchant for internet shopping, I am talking here about ideas).
OCD recovery is about not buying the ideas. If you do, it will dump you like the wave my husband and daughter got caught in when we visted Cala San Vicente, a beautiful north eastern beach and old haunt of ours for many years, in another life.
The only thing you need to do when you get caught in one of those undertow type waves is to do nothing aside not perform whatever compulsion you do. You’re in a vortex and if you fight it, it’ll be worse. In the OCD anxiety cycle, seeking reassurance, hand washing, counting etc may temporarily alleviate the anxiety, and you may also find that for a time, the OCD goes away. It does however often change themes and come at you from a different angle. Over time, like any illness if left untreated, it gets worse – which is why seeking help through a proper psychiatric assessment where I can recommend someone to you, and then doing ERP therapy with me for around ten sessions can really change your OCD to become manageable and giving you the ability to have a reassurance-seeking free life. Note, I didn’t say that it will give you an anxiety free life as I don’t think that’s possible, but it’ll help you not perform compulsions so that it doesn’t switch around, twist you up and dump you so much on the shoreline. By releasing control and surrendering to the OCD wave, you will, paradoxically, have more control insofar as your anxiety will not rule your life.
With me you’ll learn to ride the wave out, slowly but surely, and forgiving yourself when you seek reassurance or whatever it is that you do. I think it’s probably impossible to live a compulsion free life, but you can reduce these tactics hugely.
Remember, the anxiety does decrease, even though when you’re in that wave, it really does not feel like it.
Jessica Drake - Specialist Online Therapy for OCD & Anxiety (UK) 