I don't care like I used to

As I've been blogging a bit more recently, I have found myself wincing as I see the title and description on my page.  When I started this blog a few years ago I was full of fire.  I wrote of my travels and opinions, shared the punchlines of my talks and sermons and spouted forth my idealistic belief that the world would change and I could be part of it.  I've never wanted to be a famous activist or thought for a second it was down to me.  I simply saw the world and its inequality and had to say something.  Not acting wasn't a choice.  And trying to share the possibilities of transformation was the easiest thing I could do (most of the time).  I was one of life's driven people.

I started working in development early and the feedback I received inevitably included reflections on my passion.  There were the more mature folk who wished they were young again, as though it was inevitable that the dynamism fades with age.  I was encouraged not to lose it.  And I honestly thought I never would.

There are two streams of thought mooching about my mind.

First off, the clouds' most cruel trick is to rain so hard on the flames of 'caring about stuff'.  Forget inspiration and excitement, now it's difficult to dredge up the energy to be bothered about the most basic things.  It's heartbreaking. To have no motivation is bad enough, but to value yourself so little you don't seem worth looking after and lose the part of you that made you who you were is ... devastating.

I can log that under illness and deal with it as it comes.  In your face clouds.

However, it seems that growing older does mean you face a crossroads in caring.  As life and responsibility change priorities shift, that's inevitable.  I think you also face a choice though - 'that's the way the world is, get on with it and make the most of it' or 'the world can change but it's really complicated and unpopular to keep going on about it so I need to be sensible and relevant.'

I hope I can keep choosing the second option.  That said I am wondering whether the nature of being driven is something that changes anyway.  It's not like I don't care, I do.  The nature of my response is what has shifted.  From impulsive emotional charge and urgent ranting at the state of the world, in my lucid healthy seasons I'm experiencing passion in a new way.  Fortunately I don't feel like I have to work all hours of the day to be worthy, or to make sure I don't feel guilty for standing by while others suffer.  Thank you age for that one.

Instead of my heart impulsively shouting, it's like my soul is aching and my caring has crept into my deeper experiences.  And that means that I feel a lot of despair that the statistics aren't changing and the world simply isn't listening to the cries of so many.

It means I see the faces of those I've met in Africa in the faces of those struggling on my own doorstep.  It means I am so so angry at establishments who focus so much on surviving they forget their responsibility.  It means I have to choose regularly to be one of the unpopular folk who won't let go of the idea that life can be better for the majority.  I'm no longer driven by something that has conveniently given me my purpose.  I'm driven by the knowledge that I've seen too much to let go of hope.

My passion is coloured with feeling so useless sometimes and so it becomes stubborn determination.  My passion is angry a lot more than it used to be, it unashamedly begs and it lacks gloss.

I still got complimented on my passion this weekend.

Phew.

Faking it

I'm a big advocate for honesty, of course I am.   However, I wonder if there are times to hold back and occasions that necessitate a front of sorts. Don't get me wrong, having a mask that was used too often was part of my emotional downfall, I'm not advocating lying to the world about who you actually are.  But there are times when certain parts of your personality should be pushed to the front and others given a rest.

A few months ago my Lovely Friend and I booked a few days away in Dublin.  In the weeks leading up to the trip we wondered whether my clouds would get in the way, or if I'd even make it at all.  That said, I was assured that I would be taken Dublin by any means necessary.

I have some awesome friends, most of whom are extroverts.  My Lovely Friend is the kind of extrovert that wakes up talking, and once told me that she would be totally happy if she was around people from the very beginning to the very end of the day.  We are really rather different... However she is also one of the kindest, wisest and patient people I know and not only has she seen all of my moods but she's never made me feel bad about them.

So as I drove to meet my Lovely Friend my mind was occupied; not with whether I needed to hide or whether we'd fall out if I wanted to stay in bed all day.

So many people have worked around me and tried to understand how I function.  With support I've been doing so much better these past couple of weeks and am feeling stronger and more in control.  So on the journey I decided that I would do all I can to be the friend that my Lovely Friend deserved, even if it meant pretending a little bit.

I decided I would be chatty, even if I preferred silence.  I decided I would be excited and cheerful, even when my heart went into neutral mode.  I decided I would make decisions and wouldn't be paranoid that I was getting it all wrong and that my Lovely Friend actually hated and resented me and would be having a lot more fun with anyone else...  I decided to pretend I couldn't see the clouds and that I couldn't hear the negative thoughts.

And you know what, after a surprisingly short while and a few over compensations, a nap and some silence here and there to recharge... I wasn't faking it.  Pretending to be cheery soon became having a genuinely great time.  Saying things for the sake of it soon became natural chat (it turns out I do like to point at things and read signs out loud).  And making sure it wasn't all about me meant I felt like a better person and a much better friend.  At last.

I am so SO lucky to have a Lovely Friend who I knew I couldn't fail with whatever happened, and was marvellous at making sure I looked after myself and got my introvert time too.  Not being in it alone is so much part of winning the battle.  It meant that my decision to push cheery self to the front was not borne out of pressure or fear and I'm sure that's part of why it turned so quickly into my natural state.

It was a holiday, and it was a break from the clouds and the struggle.  Just as you can't stay on holiday forever, you have to come back and face yourself mask-less before long too.  But a bit of faking it proved to me that I am still in here somewhere.  That I have enough strength these days to push my head above the clouds and get some sunshine.  That has given me hope that life can once again be enjoyed, even if I have to fake it at first.

I feel useless

I received a lovely message from someone this week which used the phrase 'I feel useless' no less than 7 times.  Having read my blog, she wanted to write in empathy and support saying that in the midst of her clouds she knows she is unable to help others as she knows she should, and this feeds the feeling of worthlessness.

It got me thinking.  As much as I may want to embrace the dark times instead of writing them off, denying their existence in my history, the truth is that a lot of the time it's hard enough to look after myself let alone reach out to others.  It's a frustrating reality that depression makes you inward looking, peeking out into the world only to find things to wallop you over the head with.

It's not only those who are low that find it hard to be useful in our world.  Strong introverts, those with energy and pain fueled illnesses, agoraphobics and people who are just darned shy struggle to find their place in a loud, brash 'look at me volunteering and climbing a mountain for charity and organising a community event' world.

So I wrote a list.  I love a list. Because whatever the world or your mind or your circumstance is telling you, you are not useless.  You can offer so much, even seemingly simple things can make a world of difference - trust me, I'm a charity worker.

1.       Give to a food bank

They are all over the place, and all you need to do is look in your kitchen or buy a few extras (non perishable and in date goods) then drop them off.  You're meeting a very urgent need.  If you're feeling up to it you could even volunteer to help pack the boxes? 

2.       Smile at shop assistants

Not as easy as it sounds when you're itching to get out of there, exhausted simply by being in a shop.  But it is a really straightforward free way to spread a little cheer.  The more you smile, the more others will smile, and then you'll smile genuinely and something warm and fuzzy will enter your brain for a while (that's some science right there for you)

3.       Pay for a stranger’s coffee or road toll

It's a classic random act of kindness and totally overwhelmingly brilliant when you're on the receiving end.  If you're going for the drink option but you're feeling shy how about giving the cashier the price of a coffee and telling them to use for whoever orders one next.  Then you can run away feeling lovely.

4.       Write a thank you letter

Or facebook message, whatever medium you fancy.  But letters are totally retro cool and everyone enjoys post.  It doesn't matter what kind of thing you're grateful for or how much you say.  People don't say thank you enough.

5.       Compliment a stranger

On a few occasions someone has stopped me in the street or made a comment when coming out of a public bathroom about how much they love my shoes or dress.  Once someone came over to tell me I had excellent shoulders.  Without fail I have smiled and my mood has been lifted.  And I am quite pleased with my shoulders.

6.       Pick up someone else’s rubbish

Simple and sacrificial.  I had a long think about whether this should include other people's dog's poop.  It doesn't.  It shouldn't.

7.       Deliver a meal to someone who might appreciate it

Do you know someone who's just had a baby or an operation (or both)?  Or who's had a rough or busy time (or both)?  Whip up something or buy a bag of shopping and take it round.  If you're shaky you can leave it on the doorstep with a note.  Maybe ring the doorbell and jump behind a car and watch...?  Maybe not.

David Tenant on JustGiving

8.       Donate to a stranger’s Just Giving page

I've badgered my contacts many a time for sponsorship and believe me, even a pound is encouraging.  And the anonymous donations are special for some reason.

9.       Send an anonymous card of encouragement

Make or buy a card and put a simple quote or your own words telling someone they are doing ok.  Regardless of our situation, I think most of us need to hear it.

10.   Leave chocolates on someone’s doorstep

Oh I do love anonymous kindness and there is no way you won't make someone's day.  (Out of the sun, people, out of the sun.)

11.   Read the news

Sounds like a tangent but looking outwards, engaging in things which have no direct link to you, and caring about people you've never met, makes you a better person.  

12.   Offer to take a friend’s cardboard to the tip

Here at least, cardboard doesn't get collected and the recycling centre is a little drive away.  Saving someone that job is a such a help, and cuts down car journeys too.

13.   Take someone in public service a drink or snack

I think many of us can remember a time when we feel unappreciated... how about taking a box of chocolates to the council offices, offering the parking enforcement officer a coffee or sending the fire brigade a thank you card?

14.   Make a mixed tape for someone

A project is a most useful thing for starters.  But spending time thinking about what someone else would like is a great antidote to feeling sorry for yourself.  You can theme it: 'songs to drive to' or 'songs to let off steam after a long day at work'.  

15.   Buy a Big Issue

Self explanatory I should hope.

16.   Clean out your wardrobe and donate to a charity shop

Several birds with one stone.  Don't live with clutter, have a refresh and do a good deed.  And no birds will actually be harmed so a winner all round.  

17.   Become an organ donor

If you haven't already, please think about it (and you can do it without talking to anyone here).  Same with giving blood, you could save a life no less.  How are them 'I'm useless' voices doing now ay!?

18.   Leave some nice thoughts in public places and library books

If you're feeling crafty, or can write or use a printer... you could leave lovely messages or quotes for the general public to absorb and be encouraged by. (Keep it legal, natch). I love some positive inspiration when I'm in a public loo. 

19.   Do a bit of sofa campaigning

Avaaz

Be part of something bigger than yourself whenever you can and do your bit.  Lots of charities have petitions and actions to take, you can also start here: http://www.avaaz.org/en/  and https://www.change.org/en-GB

20.    I couldn't think of a 20th one but couldn't bring myself to stop at 19.  Too untidy.

So that's my list.  Easy to write, easier to read, potentially tricky to take on.  Whatever we each struggle with I know for a fact we can reach beyond our own situations.  And don't do yourself down when your friend is raising thousands for a marathon (they're downright mad for starters) while you put your name on a petition from your bed.  

Stop competing with everyone else.

Let's get on with doing what can, there is no such thing as a 'little' act of kindness.  You are not only useful, you are important and powerful, honestly.  Yes, YOU.

And if anyone thinks of a number 20 let me know.

Gethsemane

As I've been planning for Easter activities in town with the churches I've pondered long and hard about all this suffering stuff.  It seems to me that our culture massively celebrates 'strength' in terms of holding it together, not letting things get to you, being a positive person... I guess that means that weakness is falling apart, feeling deeply and sensitively and allowing negativity to have a voice.  However, I have a theory;

It is not despair that makes us weak.  It is denial.

I find Jesus to be a pretty good example (maybe not fashion wise) of how our true humanity can be realised and without wishing to boast, it would appear he backs me up on this.

It was recorded that the night he was arrested, Jesus took his friends to a garden and popped off by himself to have a good rant at God. He was honest and upset, he was scared and he prayed hard for things to be different.

Interestingly Jesus then went back to his pals, and presumably for someone to have written it down Jesus must have told them what he was feeling.

It's sensible to know when and where to let it all out - screaming your heart out in public isn't always a great idea.  Neither is making everything about you and your problems - far from it.  But letting people close to you know where you're at can only be a good thing.  It's vulnerable, and its real.  It gives others a chance to hold you and you some perspective.  Here healing is found.

For me this idea that strength is putting on a good front is nonsense, and it tells people like me that we're weak losers.  We. Are. Not.  It is courageous to let the right people in.  It takes immense bravery to be proactive in overcoming the clouds.  It takes all the strength in the world to nurture hope.

I'm not writing this and patting myself on the back.  But I am going to stop telling myself I'm rubbish when I break down, when I fall apart.  It's in my human nature to be that way.  I'm strong enough to admit it.

SHOES

Now to something more important.  Here are some of my shoes.  Just some.

Well...

I've been overwhelmed by the response to my last post.  Thank you.  It's interesting to me how many people wish they understood more how depression feels.  I am all too aware that it is those who are trying to support people who are low that suffer greatly too.  Everyone ends up feeling helpless.

I'm not an expert, not by a long way.  And I'm not in any way trying to be a spokesperson for the many people struggling along the cloudy spectrum.

I'm not going to start dishing out advice, and I'm certainly not going to start over-sharing my journey on the internet!

If I blog it will be in the spirit of openness and in the hope that my words can reach out to any one else who might need to feel less alone.  Maybe a couple of people might find some understanding or encouragement.

I have wanted to try and get through my low times and erase them from my history.  They are not the seasons I want to remember when I am old and I don't want them to be part of my identity.

However, the more accept that these clouds have taken up a lot of my time and will continue to be part of my landscape I can no longer deny that they are shaping me and are a legitimate chapter in my book.

So I'm going to claim this sad season and make it an opportunity; this is going to be the time when I am humbled, when I learn compassion and how to ask for help.  I will do my best to use this rough time to sand off my edges and fingers crossed I'll look back on it all with something like pride?

Let's see.

p.s. for anyone wanting some tips for supporting someone this is a good summary