I came across Substack a few months ago and have been writing there. I’m still not sure which platform I prefer. Maybe I’ll use both. For now, if you want to know what I’ve been up to, come on over and have a look. You do need to register, but they have a free version.
A.L.A.S
The other day, I caught up with a friend who has been going through a rough patch. He told me he’s been using an AI app as a therapist. I was a little alarmed, but mostly curious. I know how hard it is to get in to see a decent counsellor, so I was interested in hearing why he had chosen this path.
He talked me through the way he interacts with the AI. It has a name, he talks to it like it is a real person, and over the past few months has developed a ‘relationship’ with this entity. Now, just to clarify, this person is highly intelligent and knows that AI isn’t a reliable therapist. He knows not to share personal or sensitive information. He also knows how to research and has medical training. But what AI is giving him is an anonymous space to voice his concerns and get some feedback from an enormous world of information, collated into an easy conversation. It’s a conversation where he can say whatever he wants without fear of hurting someone’s feelings, and he can ask, ‘Am I the one in the wrong?’ In the process, he gets validation of his worth, but he also has asked for feedback on things he needs to work on. Over a few months, the AI has developed ‘insights’ into his personality and, when asked, was able to offer suggestions that he said he knew were correct. The things that AI suggested he needed to work on were the issues he knew he had, but had been ignoring or struggling to address. It even picked up a couple of things he hadn’t thought of, but on reflection, he could see how they might apply. He can explore so many ways to handle a situation right from his own home, for free, whenever he wants. I will add that the AI was also very insistent that it was not a therapist and that these were just suggestions. That if the person was experiencing any distress etc, to reach out to professional support. So, at least on that front, they are covering their behinds.
I was stunned. Terrified. Hopeful, and to be honest, a little excited.
I’ve used AI for a few different projects, but it had never occurred to me to ask it for feedback on personal issues. At an average of $160 a visit, therapy is often out of reach for people, and if you’re like me and have a trauma background, you don’t want to be wasting professional support on trying to work out why you keep crying over spilled milk. You want to use those sessions for the hardcore work. But every day we are faced with so many little stressors, and if you don’t have someone to talk to, they can build up. Even when we do have someone to talk to, there’s always the risk that they are the current issue, and you might not be ready to go there.
I decided to give it a go on a topic that I’ve already resolved and see what it comes up with. I’ve struggled on and off with an addictive personality my whole life. I started smoking when I was 14. In 2023, at the age of 55 I finally quit. I did have some help from quit smoking medications, but it took me nearly six months due to the habit being embedded in every aspect of my waking life. The straw that finally allowed me to break through the resistance and make the change was the loss of my sight due to uncontrolled diabetes. I’m very relieved to say that both my diabetes and my sight are back within normal ranges, and I am still not a smoker. It took a variety of tools and changes to get me through the withdrawals and to retrain my brain. I took up crocheting and knitting full-time, I made a playlist of songs I love to sing for when I’m driving, I immersed myself in crafts and volunteering and stayed super busy. I surrounded myself with people who don’t smoke, and eventually, I stopped thinking about it. The question I asked is this…
I have been smoking 40 cigarettes a day for forty years. The only time I don’t smoke is when I am asleep or in the shower. I wake up several times a night to have a cigarette. I am on varenicline, and it is helping, but I need to find ways to replace the cigarettes in my daily life. I don’t want to exchange cigarettes for food. I have limited mobility, so the only exercise I do is gentle walking or swimming. I need activities or new habits that will keep my hands and mind busy. HELP!
I’ll finish up my post first, as the AI response is quite extensive. But if you choose to read through it, you’ll find that it’s comprehensive and spot on. It mirrors about 80% of the techniques I used to quit smoking and retrain my brain. I do realise that drawing on the web for information is not always a reliable resource, but we do it already, don’t we? Having AI condense more information than we could ever hope to find may actually provide people with pathways that were previously unavailable.
Obviously, there’s always a dark side to this, and it honestly frightens me to think of how AI could be utilised, but in this case, I think I have found an unexpected tool that might save me some sleepless nights. I’ve since found out that AI is being trialled in therapy situations, and the results are promising. I suspect this might be very different to using Chatgpt, but who knows? It’s an interesting avenue to explore, and maybe it will fill a need at the lower end of therapy support needs.
I’d love to hear your thoughts on this.
Chat GPT app
I have been smoking 40 cigarettes a day for forty years. The only time I don’t smoke is when I am asleep or in the shower. I wake up several times a night to have a cigarette. I am on varenicline, and it is helping, but I need to find ways to replace the cigarettes in my daily life. I don’t want to exchange cigarettes for food. I have limited mobility, so the only exercise I do is gentle walking or swimming. I need activities or new habits that will keep my hands and mind busy. HELP!
You’re doing something very powerful by asking for help — and it sounds like you’re already on the right track with varenicline and a strong desire to change without replacing cigarettes with food. Let’s work through this carefully. First, given your situation (limited mobility, frequent smoking for decades, and need to keep hands and mind busy without adding food), the key goals are: • Occupy your hands (since smoking is a hand-mouth habit) • Engage your mind (reduce craving time) • Fit activities around your mobility needs (seated, gentle movement-friendly) ⸻ Here are some practical replacements you might try:
Things like: • Worry stones • Smooth beads on a bracelet you can rotate • Stress balls • Fidget spinners (not just for kids!) They keep your hands moving without needing a cigarette.
Keep a big cup or bottle with a straw nearby. Constant slow sipping mimics the hand-to-mouth action without food or calories.
These crafts are perfect because they: • Involve hand use • Are highly absorbing • Can be done seated (Even simple knitting like scarves could be good.)
You can sit at a table or in a chair and use coloured pencils or pens. Colouring is surprisingly soothing and occupies both hands and mind.
While listening to: • Audiobooks • Podcasts • Guided meditations you can: • String beads • Do light model-building (think snap-together kits) • Fold origami
Writing by hand engages the same fingers used in smoking. Journaling about your progress can also reinforce the positive changes you are making.
Stretching your fingers, squeezing therapy putty, or rolling a tennis ball under your palm on a table helps occupy your hands and improve circulation.
If you have a phone or tablet, light games like Sudoku, crosswords, Wordle, or simple strategy games can replace “bored hands” time without causing stress. ⸻ For your waking up in the night smoking: This is one of the hardest parts, because it’s almost automatic. Ideas for nighttime help: • Keep the water or tea bottle by your bed. • Have a fidget item (like a smooth stone) ready to grab. • Try very short breathing exercises (just 3 deep breaths in bed) instead of immediately reaching for a cigarette. • Consider replacing the action with a mini-ritual — e.g., sit up, stretch your arms overhead, sip water, deep breathe, settle back. Even if you delay smoking at night by 5 minutes at first, that’s a success you can build on. Bonus Tip: Set Up a “No-Smoke Zone” in your home • Make a cozy corner with your new fidget tools, a blanket, some crafts, and soothing music. • Go there instead of your “usual” smoking spot. • Changing your environment helps break automatic habits. ⸻ Very Realistic Expectation: You don’t have to be perfect — if you replace just one cigarette a day with another activity, that is major progress. Over time, those small changes add up to a real shift. ⸻ Would you like me to suggest a sample daily plan for how you could fit some of these activities in your day (especially around the times you usually smoke)? It might make things feel even more manageable.
Yes please
Fantastic — let’s make a realistic, gentle daily plan that fits your life, based on what you’ve shared. I’ll assume you wake up, have periods of activity, rest times, and nighttime wake-ups. ⸻ Sample Daily Plan to Replace Cigarettes Gradually Morning (First Waking Hours – Critical Time) Current Habit: Light cigarette immediately New Routine: • Keep a glass of water or herbal tea by your bed — sip first. • Stretch arms gently while seated. • Pick up a fidget tool (worry stone or stress ball) before leaving bed. • Delay first cigarette by 5–10 minutes at first. • Light activity: Listen to a short podcast or calming music while holding a fidget. Mid-Morning Current Habit: Regular smoking New Routine: • Set a timer for 45–60 minutes between smokes (extend slowly over time). • Do a short coloring session (5–10 minutes) or a puzzle on your phone. • Gentle walk inside your home or outside for 5 minutes if possible. • Drink water or herbal tea regularly to keep hands/mouth busy. Before Lunch Current Habit: Probably a smoke before or after eating New Routine: • While food is heating or after eating, instead of smoking, do: • 2 minutes of deep breathing • Doodle in a notebook (even just squiggles!) Afternoon Current Habit: More smoking (often boredom-driven) New Routine: • Plan a “craft break” — like stringing a bracelet, knitting, or simple origami. • If you have access, swimming (even gentle floating) is great because you can’t smoke in the pool! • Listen to an audiobook while doing hand-stretch exercises with a ball. Early Evening Current Habit: Wind-down smoking New Routine: • Set up your “no-smoke cozy zone” (chair, crafts, blanket, music). • Have a structured task: color for 10 minutes, journal, or sort beads/buttons. Nighttime (Before Bed) Current Habit: Smoking before sleep New Routine: • Make a new “sleep ritual”: • Warm tea • Slow breathing for 2 minutes • Rub a fidget stone or squish a stress ball • Read or listen to a very boring audiobook to encourage sleepiness. • Try to delay smoking if you wake up — even by 5 minutes. ⸻ Tiny Goals to Celebrate • Each time you delay smoking, count it — “Today I delayed 3 smokes!” • Each non-cigarette activity you do instead — color, sip tea, journal — is a win. ⸻ Weekly Focus (Example) • Week 1: Focus on delaying morning cigarette by 10–15 minutes. • Week 2: Add a coloring session mid-morning. • Week 3: Add a short journal entry after dinner. • Week 4: Reduce 1 cigarette during nighttime wake-ups. Small steps are exactly the right way for long-term change. Would you also like me to suggest some easy fidget tools or crafts you can order online (cheap ones) if you don’t already have any? (They can really help make this plan easier to stick with.)
Yes
Awesome — having an “emergency plan” is like having a fire extinguisher for cravings. It doesn’t have to be fancy — it just needs to be fast, easy, and automatic when the urge hits hard. ⸻ Your 5-Minute Craving Emergency Plan Step 1: Recognize • Say silently or aloud: “This is a craving. It will pass.” (Just naming it actually weakens it a little.) Step 2: Change Location • Stand up or shift your body position immediately (even if just sitting up straighter). • Walk to another room if you can. (Moving physically helps break the mental loop.) Step 3: Distract for 2–5 Minutes Choose ONE quick action: • Sip water slowly through a straw • Squeeze your stress ball 10 times each hand • Doodle something silly (like a stick figure or spiral) • Rub your fidget stone • Do 10 gentle arm stretches Pro tip: Set a timer for just 2 minutes — that way you commit to just a short distraction, not an overwhelming task. Step 4: Deep Breathing (Optional but Powerful) • Breathe in slowly through your nose for a count of 4 • Hold your breath for 4 • Exhale slowly for 6 (Repeat 2–3 times.) Step 5: Reward Yourself • Tell yourself: “I beat that craving. I’m stronger than I feel.” • Give yourself a fist bump, mentally or literally! ⸻ Summary Version (even faster!) • Notice: “Craving — it will pass.” • Move: Change position or room. • Distract: Water, fidget, stretch, doodle. • Breathe: (Optional) • Reward: Acknowledge the win. ⸻ Important: A craving usually peaks within 3–5 minutes and then fades — if you can outlast just the peak, you win. Every time you beat or delay a craving — even by 5 minutes — you’re re-wiring your brain to need cigarettes less. ⸻ Would you also like a little printable “cheat sheet” version of this you could keep by your chair or bedside? (I could make a small, easy-to-read version for you if you want.)
Yes
Great! Here’s a simple, printable Craving Emergency Cheat Sheet for you: ⸻ Craving Emergency Cheat Sheet When a craving hits: ⸻
“This is just a craving. It will pass.” ⸻
• Stand up • Shift position • Walk to another room (if possible) ⸻
Choose ONE: • Sip water through a straw • Squeeze stress ball 10x each hand • Rub a worry stone • Doodle something silly • Stretch arms overhead 10x (Set a timer if needed — just 2 minutes!) ⸻
• Inhale slowly for 4 counts • Hold for 4 counts • Exhale slowly for 6 counts (Repeat 2–3 times) ⸻
“I beat this craving. I’m stronger than my urge.” High five yourself mentally! ⸻ TIP: A craving lasts 3–5 minutes — you can outlast it! Would you like me to also make a PDF version you can download and print easily? (Just say yes and I’ll prepare it right now for you.)
Yes
Here’s your Wallet-Size Craving Emergency Card PDF, ready to download: Download Craving Emergency Wallet Card You can print it, trim it down, and even laminate it if you like — perfect for keeping in your pocket, bag, or next to your chair! Would you also like me to suggest a simple way to create a few backups (so you can have one in each room)?
Faded sketches zigzag and weave about my heart.
Shapes shifting. No end. No beginning.
A continuous flow of thought and meaning
Woven throughout my life.
I look for you in the spaces between
And fall into the depths of my own
Darkest places.
The shadows shift.
Smoke, and ash within a twilight chill so deep,
I cower, and cling to the tangled lines you drew around me.
My fingers claw your rough, darkened, edges,
While razored lines,
And slippery curves,
Upend me in a kaleidoscope of colour.
A hallowed voice urges,
‘Let go’.
And in time, I do.
I float.
Outside the frame I see these crimson veins
splattered against the surface,
while punctures of wine and pale, pink insipid smears,
bleed over the edges.
I step back. A little further
And I see you dancing a chiaroscuro around my world.
You are woven into my heart,
Etched into my soul.
This imprint erupted into life.
This shattered masterpiece.
© Annie Christie-Whitehead 2023
I’m back again. We just had our first Type-in for 2025, and it feels good to be back in the writing space. One of my biggest challenges has been making the time to write. I don’t prioritise it over other things that need my attention. I want to prioritise my writing, I just don’t know what to drop to allow that. But I suspect that social media might be a good place to start looking for those blocks of time. The latest BS over F#$^&*ook has given me another reason to seriously consider dropping out of the social media space, or to at least look at what other options I have. It’s hard. All my friends and family use this platform and for many of them, it’s the only way we connect. A big part of me really wants to fight back and say, ‘No! I will not be bullied out of my social space. I am disabled, LGBTIQA+, and neuro diverse and I have as much right to be here as anyone else. So, for now, I think I’ll black out for a week to support the message that it’s not ok to treat people this way, but I won’t be silenced indefinitely.
Anyhoo…. On to the matter of writing. I have struggled to make myself put pen to paper over the last year, but I’m determined to break through that drought. Our esteemed leader offered me a couple of writing prompts this morning and this is the one I ran with. It’s a first draft and I may or may not tidy it up. But it doesn’t really matter at this point. I’m writing and that was the whole purpose of the exercise.
Chat soon,
A.L.A.S
Writing Prompt
‘Hey Jo, have you still got it?’
‘Ssh! Yes, come inside.’
I slip in quickly and she closes the door behind me, glancing up the street to make sure I haven’t been followed. I can hear her kids upstairs and turn to look as one of them appears at the top of the stairwell.
‘Who is it, mum?’
‘No one, go back to your room and play. I’ll be up in a minute.’
We both watch until he leaves. She cringes when something crashes, and a fight breaks out.
Sighing, she turns to me and asks, ‘Did you bring the coupons?’
‘Yeah, I managed to get 300. I know it’s not what we agreed on but honestly, it’s a shit show out there. No one is giving up anything anymore.’
‘Fuck! I told you I needed 400 to pay for Emma’s hospital bills! I can’t give it up for less, it’s the only thing of value I have left. I’m sorry Sam, but we had a deal.’
I turn away so she doesn’t see the rage on my face. I knew before I got here that I had little chance of getting it, but the lure was too strong. I’ve been searching for weeks for these stupid things. Begging favours, prostituting myself for one measly coupon, stealing when I could, I even knocked over an old guy one day who was on his way into the market. Managed to get 10 coupons out of that job. This craziness was turning me into a monster. I slump against the wall and start to cry.
Jo slips an arm around my shoulder and holds me close.
‘I know it’s hard Sam, but honestly, it does get easier. I barely even think of it anymore.’
‘This whole thing is just BS. You know the arseholes only made it illegal so they can keep it all for themselves? Trying to make people believe that it’s shortening our lifespans and giving us cancer. What a crock! Aaargh! I haven’t had any for 3 months! If I was going to get over it, surely it would have happened by now? Can I just, I don’t know, smell it?’
Jo laughs. ‘Sure, give me a minute.’
I pace the hallway while she is gone. I can hear the kid’s asking questions, and her deflections, promises to go to the park later, no you can’t have an ice-cream. I stop in front of a mirror, shocked when I see myself. When did that happen? My hair looks like it hasn’t been brushed in weeks and when was the last time I shaved? Dark circles under my eyes attest to the countless nights I’ve lain awake dreaming of what I can’t have. This new law is going to kill me if I don’t get a grip on myself soon.
Jo appears at my side. I hadn’t even heard her coming down the stairs. She holds a small tin in her hands. One of those old metal ones they used to have back in the last century, before all the wars. It looks like something you might cook a date loaf in. The writing is barely legible, something about the Ministry of Food, National Dried Milk? A bit hard to tell. She pries the lid off and holds it up. Oh my god! The smell is so overpowering! I breathe it in so hard that my sinuses start burning. My mouth waters and I start to laugh and cry at the same time. I want this so badly. I stand there with my hands on the tin, breathing in the aroma so deeply that I begin to feel like I’m meditating. Everything else disappears and for the first time in weeks, I feel my body starting to unwind.
I glance up to see Jo watching me, concern written on her face.
‘You really miss this, don’t you?’
I don’t know what to say. She’s right of course. But I know if I say yes, she might just give it to me, bills be dammed. Instead, I laugh.
‘Yeah, a little bit, but I’ll manage. I’ll keep looking for more coupons, see how I go hey? Can you give me another week?’
She agrees and I turn to leave, but as I reach for the door, a thought crosses my mind.
‘Could I just have one?’
She shakes her head and laughs but grabs one out of the tin and gives it to me.
‘Make it last.’ She laughs.
‘I will, I promise.’
As I sit by the river, sucking on this one tiny coffee bean, I finally accept that I have sold my soul. I’ll never get over this. I will die every day doing whatever it takes to get one more hit. A log drifts by my feet, and I watch the currents swirl. I slip off my shoes and lower myself into the river. It won’t take long. The tides are changing, and a storm is brewing.
The writing prompt was ‘Coffee is Illegal‘
© 21st January 2025 Annie Christie-Whitehead.
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.” Ambrose Redmoon
How many times can you sit down to write something and quit before you start?
Apparently, that number is infinite.
Many years ago I came across a YouTube video about a man called Paul Smith. Paul was born with Cerebral Palsy and his parents were told he would never have much of a life. His movements are greatly impeded by the condition and it would be easy to feel pity for him. But Paul discovered what he could do.
This interview with Paul really changed my perspective. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svzPm8lT36o
I’ve been plagued with conditions over the years that have impacted my ability to do what I love, and I’ve often struggled to keep going in the face of pain, frustration and limited mobility. But watching Paul’s video interview and hearing him speak about his views on life spoke to the depths of my soul. When people say to Paul, ‘I couldn’t do that!’ he always replies, ‘Well, what can you do?’
It made me think about all the things I can do, and while I might have some limitations around how long I can do it, there are many things I can do. I realised that I would often use my limitations as an excuse to not try. If I don’t try I can’t fail, right? It’s an old cop-out and one I’ve been aware of for decades, and sometimes it’s hard to not feel ashamed. But I know why I do it and I’m working through those things, so I try to be gentle on myself while still pushing forward and through the fear.
Writing has always been my first love, my greatest passion, and my deepest fear. It exposes me in ways that terrify me, and it opens me up to being vulnerable and hurt. For as long as I can remember I have committed my hopes and dreams, my fears, anger, hate, and everything I want and need to say to the page in some vague attempt to purge myself of who knows what. Rarely do I ever share those thoughts with others. But I don’t write to just clear my head. Journalling, or morning pages, or whatever you want to call the practice is a wonderful process and I highly recommend it for everyone, but it’s not the sort of writing I need. Once I have offloaded all the extraneous thoughts and processed the anxieties, the deadlines, the frustrations and to-do lists, then I start to write. Or not, as has been the case of late.
The closer I get to discovering what I really want to write about, the harder it becomes to actually write. The closer I get to discovering what I really want to write, the more I realise how vulnerable, real, and honest I need to be to write it.
It’s not that I plan to tell my life story in any great detail, but I am highly aware of how much of my history comes out when I write, fiction or not. Writing stories exposes us in so many ways and I have spent my whole life running, burying, closing in, withdrawing and trying desperately to remain hidden from those who would harm me. But I’ve also spent a lifetime running to, opening up, embracing, and reaching out in an attempt to understand, heal, and move forward. I have lived with the dual knowledge that I am worthy and worthless, capable and incompetent, powerful and fragile, and so many other opposites that it really amazes me some days that I’ve managed to keep going. I gave a talk once that was titled, ‘My Life is an Oxymoron’, and it still makes me smile to remember it. Despite all the hard, there has been so much joy and every day I discover something new. Sometimes what I discover is more of the hard, sometimes it is more of the joy, and sometimes it’s hard to tell what it is as the lines can blur.
Today, I discovered that I’m tired, and I’m a little unsure about whether I can push myself to keep writing. I’ve been away from the computer for the past 94 days. I quit smoking back in November and discovered that smoking and writing were intrinsically linked and for a time, I needed to stop writing to deal with that. I’ve gradually come back to doing morning pages and that has been a much-needed process, but today is the first time I’ve turned on the computer and tried to write.
I find writing these types of posts relatively easy. I can be a little vulnerable, a little exposed, and while I might occasionally touch on topics that are a little raw, for the most part, I never go near the hard stuff.
Yay! It’s been less than a year since my last blog post.
And I just realised after writing this post that the reason there hasn’t been anything since last August, is that I didn’t publish my last blog.
So, this is the blog that should have been published earlier this year…
February 13, 2024
“Courage is not the absence of fear, but rather the judgement that something else is more important than fear.” Ambrose Redmoon
How many times can you sit down to write something and quit before you start?
Apparently, that number is infinite.
Many years ago I came across a YouTube video about a man called Paul Smith. Paul was born with Cerebral Palsy and his parents were told he would never have much of a life. His movements are greatly impeded by the condition and it would be easy to feel pity for him. But Paul discovered what he could do.
This interview with Paul really changed my perspective. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=svzPm8lT36o
I’ve been plagued with conditions over the years that have impacted my ability to do what I love, and I’ve often struggled to keep going in the face of pain, frustration and limited mobility. But watching Paul’s video interview and hearing him speak about his views on life spoke to the depths of my soul. When people say to Paul, ‘I couldn’t do that!’ he always replies, ‘Well, what can you do?’
It made me think about all the things I can do, and while I might have some limitations around how long I can do it, there are many things I can do. I realised that I would often use my limitations as an excuse to not try. If I don’t try I can’t fail, right? It’s an old cop-out and one I’ve been aware of for decades, and sometimes it’s hard to not feel ashamed. But I know why I do it and I’m working through those things, so I try to be gentle on myself while still pushing forward and through the fear.
Writing has always been my first love, my greatest passion, and my deepest fear. It exposes me in ways that terrify me, and it opens me up to being vulnerable and hurt. For as long as I can remember I have committed my hopes and dreams, my fears, anger, hate, and everything I want and need to say to the page in some vague attempt to purge myself of who knows what. Rarely do I ever share those thoughts with others. But I don’t write to just clear my head. Journalling, or morning pages, or whatever you want to call the practice is a wonderful process and I highly recommend it for everyone, but it’s not the sort of writing I need. Once I have offloaded all the extraneous thoughts and processed the anxieties, the deadlines, the frustrations and to-do lists, then I start to write. Or not, as has been the case of late.
The closer I get to discovering what I really want to write about, the harder it becomes to actually write. The closer I get to discovering what I really want to write, the more I realise how vulnerable, real, and honest I need to be to write it.
It’s not that I plan to tell my life story in any great detail, but I am highly aware of how much of my history comes out when I write, fiction or not. Writing stories exposes us in so many ways and I have spent my whole life running, burying, closing in, withdrawing and trying desperately to remain hidden from those who would harm me. But I’ve also spent a lifetime running to, opening up, embracing, and reaching out in an attempt to understand, heal, and move forward. I have lived with the dual knowledge that I am worthy and worthless, capable and incompetent, powerful and fragile, and so many other opposites that it really amazes me some days that I’ve managed to keep going. I gave a talk once that was titled, ‘My Life is an Oxymoron’, and it still makes me smile to remember it. Despite all the hard, there has been so much joy and every day I discover something new. Sometimes what I discover is more of the hard, sometimes it is more of the joy, and sometimes it’s hard to tell what it is as the lines can blur.
Today, I discovered that I’m tired, and I’m a little unsure about whether I can push myself to keep writing. I’ve been away from the computer for the past 94 days. I quit smoking back in November and discovered that smoking and writing were intrinsically linked and for a time, I needed to stop writing to deal with that. I’ve gradually come back to doing morning pages and that has been a much-needed process, but today is the first time I’ve turned on the computer and tried to write.
This is where the post finished. It was really hard dealing with the way smoking had become so intrinsically linked to my writing. For a time, I started to wonder if I’d ever write again. But here I am…
And this brings us to the current post where I started to expand on why I thought I’d been away for just under a year.
I should be grateful, and for the most part I am. The things that keep me away from blogging are usually wonderful.
My wife and I live on ten acres of beautiful bushland and pasture that takes a lot of work to care for, but it’s so worth it.
With five adult children, and five grandchildren spread across the country, I spend a lot of time visiting them and trying to be a great Nannie. I love them all so much and time flies by so quickly that I really want to make the most of the time we have.
I have a great casual job, that is super flexible and allows me to do what I love best, collecting stories at a grassroots level to inform funding and programs that are actually needed.
I volunteer weekly at a few different craft groups which allows me to give back while indulging my own creativity, and occasionally I get together with an awesome tribe of like-minded friends for dinner and various celebrations.
But there’s a dark side to my absence too. I’ve lived with the impacts of trauma my whole life, and while I’ve done a lot of work to heal, it has been a time-consuming process. Sometimes the things we don’t deal with catch up with us.
In my late 20’s, my health started to deteriorate rapidly. Now, 35 years later, I’ve finally been diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis. It sucks, big time. But I’m trying hard to see the diagnosis for the blessing it can be. At least we can start treating it properly and it has really pushed me to make some big decisions about how I choose to live my life. I’m terrified I’ll lose my vision completely, the fatigue is awful and has recently gotten worse, and my system is shutting down and not working properly. Everything is just too bloody hard! But I also know I’m really slack at doing good self-care, I put everyone else’s needs first, and I avoid dealing with my emotions as much as possible. It’s just a pity that it takes a big kick up the bum before we make the changes we should have made much earlier.
But I didn’t come here to moan about my poor health. I come here because, for some bizarre reason, my brain thinks that writing on this blog helps keep me accountable to myself. It’s hilarious really because I know very few people read this, and I’ve reached an age where I don’t really mind, which is obvious from how often I blog. Yet every now and then, someone drops in and leaves a comment that lets me know they’re here, and maybe one day I’ll write something that touches somebody else’s heart, and that is important to me.
So, I keep writing…
Not as often as I would like, but enough to keep me engaged. I’ve been working on the storyline and song lyrics for a musical, and filling in gaps in my autobiography (only intended for myself and the kids). I’ve been playing with writing prompts and pushing myself out of my comfort zone. I’ve also been trying to expand my reading material to include genres that I don’t usually explore.
A friend recently invited me to be a Beta reader for her latest novel and I gladly accepted. OMG! I had no idea how much work goes into this! In the end, I ran out of time and energy and I think I handed her a pretty poor assessment. Pays to do your research before taking on a new job. My saving grace was picking up a couple of errors, but I’m sure someone else would have noticed them. One thing it did teach me was there’s a big difference between reading a book for pleasure and reading it to answer questions and make assessments on the book and its contents. The other thing it reminded me of is that I’m far better at proofreading than I am at being a beta reader. We live and learn.
The musical came out of the blue. I participated in NANOWRIMO again in November last year. I started off with no idea what I was going to write and by the end of the month, I’d written the outline for a play about intergenerational trauma, a play that I quickly realised wanted to be a musical. Song lyrics started to flow, character development flourished, settings fell into place and everything was coming together well. I took a break over the Christmas period and when I came back to it in February I was completely demoralised. It was so morbid and depressing! But I haven’t given up. What I realised was that the parts that flowed easily were the parts that I really needed to write. The hurt and angst that flows through the script is integral, but it took time and distance to see that there is also joy in the story; it’s just a little harder to find. My challenge now is to go back and look at the story through different lenses.
One of the ways I’ve been doing this has been to talk to older family members, cousins mostly. I’ve been hearing stories that have shifted the way I view events and people and given me alternative lenses to try on. It’s been an experience that I am very grateful for and has almost convinced me to consider talking to one of the key players. But I’m not quite there yet.
I’m acutely aware that in its current state, this is my story, and it’s deeply personal. Whether it will ever evolve into a universal story that works for the stage is beyond me to answer right now. Maybe it will only ever be the story I need to write for myself and if that is the case, that’s wonderful. The main thing is that I am writing and every day I wake up wanting to write more. My heart is full, I’m doing what I love, and slowly the shattered pieces are finding their place.
People used to approach Paul Smith and his art and say things like, ‘That is amazing. I could never do that.’ Paul would always reply with, ‘What can you do?’
This! This is what I can do.
In my last post, I mentioned that I’ve been wondering how I want to use this blog and played with the idea of tracking my artistic journey. I’m going to run with that as it’s the primary focus in my life right now.
Over the last few years, I’ve tried to incorporate art into my life as much as possible. It hasn’t been easy. Juggling the constraints of adult life, self-care, work, and family is something I’ve found to be incredibly challenging. In the past ten years, I’ve been diagnosed with Autism, ADHD, and Executive Function Disorder, and while that explains a lot, it doesn’t tell me how to stay focused, plan and organise my time, regulate my emotions, or deal with impulsivity to name a few.
A common scenario is this. I started my second year of uni on a high. My bullet journal was up to date, I’d read all the novels and readings over the summer, I spent time sorting out my timeline for assignments and tutorial tasks and every day I checked in to make sure I was on track. What I forgot to do was allow time for life. As the weeks progressed and outside commitments came up, I found I was getting further behind. My stress levels rose, things got forgotten, essays got pushed back and avoidance started to kick in. By the end of the semester, I was so stressed and so far behind that I had no capacity to deal with a crisis, failure was inevitable. I know that sometimes shit happens, but this shit is a recurring theme for me.
Or I decide to implement a new health regime like meditation. For the first week, I diligently make time to meditate, and I love it. Then somewhere in the second or third week, I ‘forget’ that I’m creating new neural pathways and before I know it, three months have passed and I find myself saying, ‘Oh, that’s right, I decided to meditate each day. Wonder what happened?’ It’s frustrating and demoralising.
I’m still learning to work with a brain that seems determined to sabotage my every attempt to move forward. For those of you who haven’t come across this voice yet, and I doubt there will be many, my companion appears in the form of a well-meaning parent who is scared to let go in case I get hurt. This parent has very firm ideas about what is the right path for me.
‘You’ll never make money as an artist, why don’t you become a secretary?’
‘This is going to hurt, you know you can deal with it later, don’t you?’
‘Are you sure you want to wear that?’
‘Yes, I know you’ve made progress and have achieved so much, but…’
You get the idea; negative self-talk has been a topic of discussion for decades. Thankfully, I’m screwed up enough to need therapy, so I get the benefit of regular opportunities to learn new life skills. One of those skills has been learning to put myself out there and teach my brain it is safe and worthwhile to trust both myself and other people. This is scary! For anyone who has experienced trauma or rejection, trusting feels like the stupidest thing you could do. Opening myself up for that pain feels like self-sabotage, but I’ve come to realise that withdrawing from humanity means missing out on love as well.
About ten years ago I read an article by Mark Manson, he asked, “What pain do you want in your life? What are you willing to struggle for?” https://markmanson.net/question
His article resonated with me on a lot of levels, and I began to question the goals I was reaching for. At the time, I was studying science at university and as much as I loved it, I found myself becoming increasingly depressed. Why was I doing this? Will I use it for anything? Who am I doing this for? I was also avoiding doing the one thing I’ve always loved, creative writing. Mark’s article forced me to evaluate how much struggle I was willing to have in my life to achieve my goals. I looked at all the things that were hard about the science pathway and asked myself whether I was willing to work that hard to become a scientist. On nearly every answer, I said no. It was depressing as I was already at the end of my second year and because I realised I was trying to prove something to someone else. This wasn’t my pathway.
After a while, I decided to ask myself the same questions about being a writer. Keeping in mind that at this point, my writing consisted of morning pages and a lot of crappy poetry sprinkled with a few gems and some half-hearted attempts at drawing. I jumped online and researched the challenges of being a writer and formulated them into questions. Every single question got a big fat yes! For this, I will struggle, I will burn, I will break. For this I am willing to face rejection, to lose sleep, to keep trying repeatedly.
Because writing means everything to me.
I can’t imagine a life where I don’t write. I’ve been dreaming about this for as long as I can remember, but fear of failure kept my dreams small, and fear of rejection kept me from sharing what I write. Well, I’ve been rejected multiple times and I’ve survived every one of them. I’m learning to see them as lessons rather than failures, and I’m finally listening to the voice that knows this is my path.
Considering this knowledge, I joined a couple of writing groups; one local and one online, both very different. The local group is heavy on sharing and critiquing, while the online one focuses on dedicated writing time. I also had a few semesters at uni where we had to critique the writings of other students. I’ve slowly learned that putting my writing up for critique is doable; sometimes scary, but often very rewarding. I’ve also found that sometimes the critique you get is biased and knowing how to take what is useful on board and let the rest slip away, is helpful on so many levels. Allowing my work to be critiqued is making me a better writer and teaching me different ways of viewing my writing and the world around me. It also showed up all the cliches in my writing.
Last year I participated in National Novel Writing Month NANOWRIMO https://nanowrimo.org/ for the first time. The goal is to try and write a 50,000-word novel in the month of November. I went into it with the idea of ‘Let’s see what I can do.’ I didn’t write a novel, but I did reach my word count. What I came out with was ideas, scenes, and characters for a trilogy. It was bloody hard work and I take my hat off to anyone who manages to write an actual novel in this time. It would have been so easy to give up. My wife and I contracted covid in October, and by November I’d developed pneumonia, followed by gastroenteritis and conjunctivitis. My body was falling apart, but my head and heart were determined. The funny thing is that being sick gave me cause to slow everything else down. No one wanted me around while I was sick, so I was able to dedicate my time to writing, and I did it in a way that allowed me to rest whenever I needed it, and work when I could.
What I also gained from this process was the realisation that if I dedicate myself to something that appears unreachable, I can get so much closer to it than I ever dreamed was possible. I’ve come to appreciate that I don’t know what I can do because I haven’t done it yet, and that’s fine. What I can do is show up and give it a go. Moving forward, I know one of my biggest challenges will be learning how to find the balance between my dreams of writing and art, and my commitments to work, self-care, and the people I love.
This week I submitted a short piece for the Tasmanian NANO Spring zine which will be distributed at The Small Press Zine Fair next month https://www.facebook.com/events/583435487325065
This is way outside my comfort zone, and I was nervous about having a go, particularly as the theme of Spring wasn’t resonating with me. I spent a few hours dot-pointing ideas, eventually deciding that I don’t like spring; so, I wrote about that. I considered using a pseudonym, but in the end, I just went for it. I’m glad I did because the few people who’ve already read it, liked it.
Over the last week I have found myself exploring the zine world again, I had no idea it was still so popular. A friend and I had a go at making zines many years ago and I still have them. I pulled them out to have a read and discovered two very interesting things. Firstly, they weren’t very good, were full of advertising, and had very little creative content. Secondly, I was so proud of my small contributions and I remembered how much fun we had making them. I didn’t give it much more thought, but every night since I have found myself waking up through the night with ideas for zines. Maybe I’ll explore this one a bit further and see where it goes. The idea of doing something that allows me to combine my love of writing with my art is very tempting.
For now, keep reading, keep writing, and keep creating.
Keep doing whatever makes your heart soar.
Namaste
Annie
A.L.A.S
Images © Annie Christie-Whitehead
From L to R: Creative journalling page, Ulverzine 2008, heterometrus sp., shading practice from Visual Arts course in 2021, painting: random ideas of a moonscape, “Together” My first attempt at painting submitted to the Minds Do Matter art exhibition in 2010 – winner of the People’s Choice award.
I’m starting to think that blogging isn’t my cup of tea.
Recently, I entered a short piece in a local zine. In the entry details, they suggested adding links to your site/s. Sure, why not? Well, maybe the fact that my last post was 4 years ago might be a good reason to not promote myself too widely.
Anyway, I’m back, again. No promises this time. I’m a lazy blogger, but only because I’m busy with so many other things. When I finally worked out how to get back into this site, I found an unpublished post from 2020. It’s published now. Better late than never.
So much has happened since my last post from 2020. My health is better than it was, but I’m now dealing with emphysema because guess what? I didn’t quit smoking. Self-inflicted so I’m not going to complain.
I ended up pulling out of the Visual Arts course because they couldn’t convert it to a sustainable online environment, and by the time we were allowed back into the classroom, everyone’s tempers were so frayed I just lost interest. But it was fun, and I learned a lot, the most important thing being that I need creativity in my daily life.
The following year I enrolled in university to do a Dip Art – English major because why not? It was offered to me for free because I have been a part of a Dementia Research study for the past five years. They’re trying to determine if keeping our brains active reduces the risk of dementia. The first two years were great, even though I did fail one unit and had to apply for remission because my health packed it in mid-semester. I also discovered I have ADHD on top of autism, so that explains A LOT! This should have been the beginning of my third year (part-time, so two more years to go), but I pulled out last month. Sometimes, what we want, and what we can do, don’t always agree. There’s been a lot of family stuff going on, a new job, and combined with health issues, my stress levels were getting way too high. So, I had to reassess my priorities, and unfortunately, uni was the only thing I was willing to let go of. I’ll go back one day, maybe, if it’s what I really want, but for now I’m okay with my decision.
You would think that giving up uni would mean I’d suddenly have a lot of free time. You would be wrong lol. I’ve been busier than ever and what I have realised, is that I was constantly putting important things on the to-do list because of uni deadlines. Now that is no longer the case, I’m finally getting those things done.
One of those things is trying to decide why I started this blog and what I want to say if anything. Honestly, I’m not all that interested in writing about all my crappy life experiences, nor do I think it would be of benefit to anyone. I’m a little tired of the mental health recovery journey. Being a lived experience speaker for a few years put that one to bed for me and while it was empowering and useful and definitely a space that needs to keep being talked about, I don’t have the energy for it right now.
One idea I have played with is whether to document my journey as a blocked/emerging artist. I know that when I first admitted to myself how much I need creativity in my life, I felt a huge wave of grief for all the lost years, and I honestly wondered if it was too late to start.
I’ll think about that one and get back to you. Hopefully before 2027 😀
Namaste
Raven
A.L.A.S
Oops! Just found this in my drafts. Should have been posted in 2020 🙂
What a year!
I just logged on and realised I haven’t posted since December last year, oops. It’s been a crazy, scary, enlightening year so far and I thought I’d share some reflections on what I’ve discovered since Covid invaded our lives.
As much as I enjoy the company of friends and family, I have always needed to hermit regularly to cope with the influx of energy from being in other people’s space. This year, I have been forced home for nearly five months and I discovered how easy it is to become VERY comfortable with the hermit lifestyle. So comfortable in fact that I found myself experiencing anxiety every time I had to go out. I have just recently returned to face-to-face classes at my art school and meetings with my community group and it is proving to be very challenging.
Unlike a lot of people I know, I haven’t been alone over this period. My wife and son live with me, so I have had people to talk to. I know this makes for a very different experience compared to those who have been living alone and my heart goes out to everyone in this situation. Then there’s the people who have been forced home into unsafe living environments and I can’t even imagine what they are going through.
So, I have struggled with an ethical dilemma during this period. Part of me has desperately needed to cocoon myself from the fear and stress that covid has wrought on the world, and part of me, the part that loves and lives for community engagement, has wanted to do all I can to support the communities I work with. At what point do we step back and say, “I can’t do this anymore?” I am crying as I write this because I love working with and for my community and I want to keep doing this. But, my health has been compromised over the years from working too hard, exposing myself to vicarious trauma, and struggling to maintain personal boundaries and self-care. I took nearly 18 months off from all work and only returned, in a limited capacity, towards the end of last year. In a lot of ways, I feel that Covid has set me back nearly two years.
I’m frustrated with my body and its inability to function well, and how long it is taking to recover. I am being sensible and trying to limit how much I take on, but even the little I am doing is too much some days. When your body, mind, and soul experience a total collapse, there is no rhyme or reason, no ETA on how long it will take to recover.
It doesn’t help that I have had to let go of coordinating a major yearly event either. This event was my baby, started seven years ago, and I am very proud of what we have achieved. At the moment, handing it over to someone else to co-ordinate, feels like I have lost something important. I know I haven’t lost it. I know that even though the event was my brainchild and for the most part, I have been responsible for the bulk of the planning, it was never MY event. It has always been and always will be a group event. What I am struggling with is that I have had to hand over the organising because I CAN’T manage the workload, not because I don’t want to do it. I feel like I am handing over my child. Silly maybe? But the grief is real. I know I can and will continue to be a part of the event planning and running, I just have to learn to adjust to the changes.
Namaste
Raven
A.L.A.S
Ten years has passed so quickly. A friend posted on Facebook yesterday about her highs and lows for the last ten years and I thought, “What a lovely idea”.
Karen and I started talking about ours and the list was huge. So many changes, I hardly know where to begin, but here goes…
2010 saw me heading off to TAFE to do a Cert III in Community Services. It was during the introductory session, that I decided on a whim, to come out. Little did I know how much impact this statement would have on my life. I came out first as a lesbian, then years later, acknowledged I was bisexual. More time passed and I discovered that my gender identity is fluid and eventually, I decided to drop all the labels. I am a soul having a human experience that is broad as well as deep. I love. I love deeply and I don’t care what’s between your legs, only what is in your heart.
I found love, lost love and found it again. I have held my loved ones as they weep and I have grieved for those who left this life too soon. I have welcomed new life in ways unexpected but amazing and so beautiful.
I have broken, repaired and broken again and each time I put myself back together, I find that the new me is not scarred and ugly but a better, stronger version of me. I have walked down paths I never thought I’d see, learnt lessons I never thought I’d need to learn and I’ve learnt, as Mark Manson so eloquently puts it, to prioritise the fucks I give. I have learnt that my emotions are guide posts that inform me about the things that matter most to me, but they are not directives, I get to choose what I do with the information my emotions give me.
Somewhere in the last ten years, I decided to live. I have let go of my ‘dead man’s goals’, the ones that told me I needed to erase all my problems to be happy. I learnt that problems are inevitable, they are the price of existence. But I also learnt that I have control over these problems, that I can choose what and how I deal with them. I have learnt that happiness comes from solving problems and creating new ones that are values aligned.
Take today for example.
I have been a smoker for 35 years, excluding the four years where I binged on food instead. I have let addiction rule my life for way too long. I know it’s a coping mechanism, but I also know that there are better ways for me to deal with my trauma, anxiety and depression. This has been a problem and it’s a problem I no longer wish to give any energy to anymore.
So I decided to quit. I promised myself that today would be my last day as a smoker, my last day of letting that particular problem control my life. So now I have a new set of problems. Learning how to deal with my stress in healthier ways. Learning how to say no to that voice in my head. Creating more space for self-care to support my well-being. But these are problems I want in my life. These are better problems than the ones I get as a smoker.
This year I created another new problem. I enrolled in a Visual Arts course at TAFE. The irony is not lost on me that the beginning of this decade and the beginning of the next one, both start with education. Now, instead of wandering through my days trying to find things to do to alleviate my boredom, I have to plan my week again. I’ll have early starts, homework and exams to deal with. Money will need to be found to pay for materials and time will need to be managed so I can still fulfill my other responsibilities. And fear will need to be worked through. Allowing my creativity to bloom is going to be challenging on many levels. But these are problems that excite me. These are problems I’m looking forward to solving. These are problems that are values aligned and give meaning to my life.
I could fill a book with all the changes that have occurred in the last ten years and one day you’ll get to read that, but for now, I’m happy to say I’m grateful. I am not who I was ten years ago and I’m grateful for that. I am older, a little bit wiser and a lot more content with my lot. I’m looking forward to the next decade with anticipation and excitement; whatever happens, life is worth living.
Namaste
Raven
A.L.A.S
lifetimes of gratitude 