The Grass Beneath Me.......
Oh hello,
You've joined me again. Thank you so much for taking your time to be here and reading this. It means a lot!
Psst... I have to share this with you...
I’m sitting here on lush green grass, with my notebook open on my lap.
I close my eyes for a moment and breathe it all in. The air’s warm, and there’s that faint earthy scent that only seems to come when the sun’s been shining for a while.
It’s so quiet here and I can hear the nearby stream trickling, just soft and steady.
And at this moment everything feels still, peaceful, calm... serene.
The sound of birds in the trees catches my attention. The birdsong, vocalisation, or bird calls - whatever it is; the different pitches, the shifts in tone. What they’re saying? Are they happy? Calling a mate? Checking on their young? Maybe warning each other?
So many different sounds and somehow, they all seem to know what they mean. Each of the sounds pull me further and further into their world.
Quietly and gently, my mind turns to a thought........
Before everything became so fast and busy, this was just how life was. The outdoors, so quiet, all connected to the natural world. And this is where we come from, us humans. We were once so very much part of this world. And we forget that we are still very much part of it now. However, we get so caught up in this new world that we forget that we can give ourselves moments to enjoy this beauty, to reconnect with the old ways of being. It's still here and it is free!
The cogs in my head keep turning and I find myself thinking about the birds again.
They seem to know just what they’re here to do. No questioning, no second guessing they just get on with it. Their whole existence is about staying safe, finding food, looking after their young, building nests - surviving. Their life seems so straight forward and looks so simple from the outside. No distraction, they are just doing what they’re meant to do.
My thoughts develop into a comparison of the two worlds. Today's world feels so much more complicated; people carrying different values, judging and comparing each other, always wanting more things. In a way, we’re all still just trying to survive, just like the birds. But surviving today is so different.. We’re not only keeping ourselves alive; we’re also navigating a maze of expectations, choices, pressures, in a place that never quite rests. It’s all survival, but with a thousand extra layers to think about.
I can’t help but wonder what it would feel like to live as a bird. Without having to constantly manage my thoughts. Just being.
The thought starts to develop further, thinking about my busy brain, one that never switches off, shaped by years of scanning, managing, coping and I wonder if the difference between the two worlds is what causes my brain to be like this. Trying to survive in the world today, when all I want is peace and to quietly get on. It's almost like a clash of the two worlds- new and old. Where we are and where we come from.
My thought is stopped short, as it is interrupted by a soft rustle from the trees.
I glance up. It’s a deer and just behind her, her young one, half-hidden in the shadows at the edge of the woodland. The mother spots me first and freezes. And in a split second , the young one does the exact same. I know that the fawn didn’t freeze because it knew to be scared. It froze because its mother did.
That’s how their world works, no words, just instinct. This is how they learn not through stories, but through action.
I know I’m not a threat, I’m just sitting here with my notebook, not even moving. But they don’t know that. How could they?
The mother can’t turn to its young and say,
“Your Uncle Henry got too close to a human once and didn’t make it, but your cousin had a really good relationship with one so decide for yourself." Their brains are different, I dare say they make sounds to communicate but do not have the ability to communicate as we humans have today.
This gets me thinking about how our brains have evolved as humans:
The old brain, at the back is still with us ( believe me it really is) keeping us safe with instinct and fight-or-flight (as the deer) But now we also have the new brain, one that can make decisions, problem-solve, and think strategically. Gives us the ability to effectively communicate, and understand (if we want to of course!).
But it's when those two parts of the brain do not work in unison. They somehow go against each other. Both working very hard at what they do and doing it very well but just constantly battling which creates a very very noisy head and the anxiety builds.
I believe that there is a filter between them, regulating messages from back to front.But when those messages come at such speed and force, the filter doesn’t stand a chance.
And this is what I understand happens with OCD.
The back brain, the alarm system messages DANGER!
The message heads to the filter. Normally, the filter checks things over, decides if it’s worth worrying about, and either passes it to the front brain or sends it back with a quiet “all good.”
When there’s real danger, the front brain kicks in problem-solving, acting, reducing the risk and does what it has to do, then sends the message back: It’s safe now.
But with OCD, the alarm’s faulty. It’s constantly and I mean constantly going off.
It bypasses the filter completely, rushing straight to the front brain. The front brain, thinking it’s a real emergency, starts scanning for danger that isn’t actually there. It finds nothing, sends the message back: No danger.
The back brain disagrees: Yes there is!
Message shoots forward again. The front brain scans, still has no idea what it’s looking for, but keeps going until it finds something that might be it. Signals to act on it- the compulsion and for a moment… relief.
Then the alarm’s back. Louder.
Maybe it’s the same “danger” again. Or a new one. Another thought. Another “what if.” Another trigger.
Back and forth it goes, danger, scan, danger, scan until all the signals are so mixed up, it’s impossible to keep track. Harmless problems feel terrifying. Fight-or-flight mode is stuck on. Adrenaline’s pumping constantly.
And I’m sure you can imagine how exhausting that is for a minute or two.
But imagine it’s 24/7 with the only way to block it out is sleep but then imagine if it all starts creeping into your dreams too!
I am aware I have digressed slightly, as my brain does! I have worked very hard over the years on identifying and managing the OCD. But even with a bit more control, something doesn’t feel quite right. I still struggle, there's still so much fear inside, pain, upset and rawness, which OCD used to help me distract from.
I look up to the woodlands and the deer have both disappeared but their scared frozen faces are still very my mind. And something about that picture hits differently. Do I resonate with that fear? Is that the type of fear that sits in my adult body most of the time? Does this assist in the reason for the sadness that hangs around? That constant pull to please, to be wanted, to be loved. Is it all driven by fear by the need to just feel safe?
I know over the years I have developed some very unhealthy coping mechanisms including OCD, all of which result in causing me more hurt, pain, the feeling of not deserving, because oddly these are what I have come to know as safety. But they are not safe but they are so familiar and doesn't safety come with familiarity
And this is what I now need to conquer. I need to know what real safety feels like. To live my life without constant fear and this is what I have been doing during my quiet period. Understanding why I feel like this and how I can become my true self. However this is no easy fix. And I know this because the grass I am sitting on is somewhere along a path on the next part of my journey already having travelled the first part.
I’ve no idea how long the path is or how long it’ll take to get to the end. Is there an end or is this a continuous journey? I know I’ll take a few wrong turns. Some things will take longer than I want them to. I’ll need rest. I’ll need to pause and I have learned that is okay.
They say time’s a healer and it is but there is a lot of work in order to heal correctly. And I am working on this, not always gracefully, but I am bit by bit.
But this is going to take time. 40 years of finding ways to cope, ways that helped me survive but didn’t really let me live. And now I’m trying to undo that. Relearn what it feels like to like myself ( really trying to say love- but still sits a bit awkwardly at times), to feel that I deserve to be here, that I am worthy of love and happiness. And most of all what it feels like to feel safe
This took time to understand, years and years and hours and hours of therapy. So many moments I have given whole heartedly to something or someone. So easily trusting, hoping it might bring what I needed, only to feel that quiet ache of hurt & pain when it didn’t. I can think of lots of recent examples where I have still gone into situations so eager and ready to please, those old habits, feelings, emotions so overwhelming. Only to have it thrown back in my face and so many times I have sat in front of my therapist feeling so stupid with my hands over my face, peeping through my fingers saying "I've done it again why? Why did I do that?" And she just nods and gently reminds me this is progress. Because now I can see it. She doesn’t have to point it out, I noticed. It may have been after the event but I noticed. And the next step will be noticing it before I do it. Slowing down, catching it, and maybe choosing a different way.
The only way I am going to get to grips with this is through self love but to love myself I must start to reconnect with myself and to reconnect with myself I must be able to understand myself and get to know where all these unhealthy coping strategies sit within me and this is the story I have to tell.
The soft trickle of the stream nearby pulls me back to the stillness. But here’s the thing, the peace I’m feeling at this moment is not just about the birdsong and breeze and the beauty of nature. It’s something else. It's about the progress I have made along this path.
I’m not sitting here on my own....
Curled up next to me, shaded by the tree, hand just resting on my leg barely there, but enough to know that I am here, is the little girl. And not far from us, stretched out in the sun, is an older version of her. An adolescent, bare foot, tapping along to her music, mouthing the lyrics, eyes closed, soaking up the sun . I’ve told her to watch the sun, but she rolls her eyes, she always knows best!
his is the moment I have been working towards. As I sit thinking about what I have learned from my journey, I realise we’re all calm. The little girl isn’t sleeping to block the world out; she's just resting, as any small child does. The adolescent is starting to see she’s not fully responsible for saving that little girl from the scary thoughts. She’s just a girl too, still figuring things out.
As an adult, I’ve learned that if I really listen to both girls, if I hold space for them, acknowledge their feelings, and give them the care they need, I can start to see and feel things through adult eyes. It’s not always easy, but it makes the noise quieter and the fear less overwhelming.
And right now, sitting here with them, there’s a quiet hope stirring; a sign that things are beginning to shift.
I smile, take a deep breath and enjoy that moment of peace within. I pick up my pen, ready to introduce you to the two girls and share the story of how the path began.
*****
I do hope you have enjoyed reading. Part 3 will be out soon but for now I will leave you with a snippet of what's to come. Click the button below for the preview of 'Three Voices One Heart'
That Girl With OCD xx
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