Don't get a dog on a whim. Trust me.

Big fan of the West Wing.

You know when you accidentally come home with a puppy one day and a really hard year later discover its dad wasn't its dad and thus you are landed with a different breed altogether?
(half mini poodle?  Nope.  Terrier.  Shucks.)

And also the puppy has abnormally high levels of cortisol, the stress hormone which means he lives on the edge of his nerves, at stress point all the time.

And also he has a doggy form of autism, where he cannot read or often use normal dog body language.  This means all other canines are utterly terrifying which has developed into aggressive behaviours borne out of fear.  He growls and barks to make the scary stuff go away and distract from the fact that he's tiny.

No?  Just me?

Yeah.

Finding out from a very helpful and qualified animal behaviourist that Druna being a handful was not of my making, nor is it him being of horrible character, has been a massive relief.  That said there is a whole world of work to do to make life happier for me and the dogs.  But knowing he's scared, he's not in control and those times when he is a poppet are his true character rather than an anomaly... well my patience and compassion is returning.

Now here is an incredibly important statement to put this whole post in context, take heed:  I am not at any point suggesting that having dogs is the same as having children. Nor that having a dog with behavioural issues is the same as having a child with issues.  When I say that I have a new found empathy for parents with children with additional needs, I'm not saying that I know how they feel, or am in the same boat or that my situation compares at all with the burdens and hard work those parents, and any parents carry.  But I have a new found respect and empathy and that can only be a good thing!

I walked with Druna straining at the lead last week and two people sarcastically commented how 'well trained that dog is'.  Had there been a third person they would have got the sharp end of my tongue and a tirade that went something like:  "You have no idea what this situation is, that he's hyper sensitive to stimulation and we're working really hard to make him feel safe and learn appropriate responses to stress and fear.  You have no idea that I'm often embarrassed about his behaviour, that I feel guilty when he barks insanely at every dog he hears or sees, or if people approach him too quickly. I feel like a failure that I didn't catch his issues sooner and that he's spent a lot of his life confused, frustrated and scared.  So piss off with your judgement and discouragement.  Or I'll set my dog on you."

I can only imagine how parents feel when they have a child causing a fuss or drawing attention to them.  To be tutted at, given advice or frowned at when you're doing your best, or just surviving the moment... how demoralising.

A few days a go a young mum was struggling to calm her toddler in a public place.  As I looked up I saw an elderly couple frown loudly in her direction, and a grandmother with her sleeping grandchild move away, not without rolling her eyes at the elderly couple.  Finally a middle aged woman tried to be helpful and distract the 'disruptive' child, mentioning confidently to his mother that children just need to know what behaviour is acceptable.  This wound the toddler up even more.

I was concerned that anything I did might be misconstrued as patronising or worse; I would be wary or defensive if were her.  But I smiled at this young boy as suddenly he made himself laugh loudly and with abandon.  His mother caught my eye and I can only  hope she saw that I was on her side.  I was leaving so I called over as a I passed saying 'he's gorgeous, and clearly very loved'. I felt stupid the moment it came out of my mouth but she smiled at me, probably grateful it wasn't another criticism.

Back to my dog.  The behaviourist said that his issues weren't for for beginners, and he would likely have ended up in a rescue home had he been brought home with someone with less time and other humans to care for.  He's as cute as he is a nuisance, lucky for him, and despite the way I have to make massive adjustments for him I find I love him dearly.  The thought that he might have otherwise ended up in a cage where his issues would have been reinforced, making rehoming extremely unlikely, sends a pang through my heart.  I accidentally saved him from that and he looks to me to protect and love him.  He's teaching me that I'm capable of loving even when it's really awkward and embarrassing, tiring and frustrating.

And most of all, he's teaching me to smile at anyone who looks like they're struggling.  To not judge or criticise, to assume each person has their own journey and burdens and that I have no idea what just happened or what anyone else is facing.

If in doubt, I will encourage.  If not in doubt, I will encourage.  I will try to stand up for people just doing their best.  And when I see someone adding to the burden, I'll set my dog on them.*


*for the record, Druna has a vicious bark but if really threatened he would run screaming. But let's keep that between us.  He thinks he's scary.

Moving on.

I'm a sucker for markers and I'm feeling profound on this, the last day of my twenties. Not in the slightest bit concerned about age, but with a chapter closed and new one to be marked.  I'm trying to avoid holding myself to a set of expectations, to what security and achievements I might have hoped to be celebrating today.  

I'm desperately holding to the idea that being unsettled is a gift, that growing in my honest brokenness is to be embraced and that life is found in the falling and failing as much as in the surges of success.

Don't get me wrong, I could make a list of things I'm really proud I've done, moments I treasure and experiences I feel incredibly fortunate to have behind me.  But I guess I find it difficult at this unsure point in time to not wish I had a little more to take with me as the page turns.

Anyway, a year ago I made a list of things to do before I turned 30.  Some people don't need or like these kinds of things but it has encouraged me to steer around some of the 'I meant to do that', 'I would have like to do that', 'I wish I had done that' excuses that I want so deeply to avoid.  

On one hand I take massive risks, can be impulsive and make things happen.  On the other, I find it too easy to back away from the uncomfortable, procrastinate and am cautious about taking and making opportunities.  Sometimes I need one half of me to hold the other in check.

I'm glad I did the list, and I will miss it.  I hope I can keep the spirit of ticking things off in my mind, that I can be deliberate about living.


30 Things To Do Before I'm 30

1. Bodyboard:  Done.  And surfing (nearly)

Look, I made bread.

2.  Make real pasta:  Done, but fairly inedible.  Turns out I enjoy making bread though, so that's one carb I may conquer.

3.  Try sushi:  Done, not too fussed about it.

4.  Wax legs:  One of those things that really is as painful the first time as you expect.  Tick.

5. Cycle to Exeter:  And some...

6.  Pay for a strangers' coffee:  This made me more anxious than it probably should have done, I was worried about someone turning me down or catching me at the door to call me a weirdo as I tried to leave with some subtlety.  In the end I gave a cafe £5 and asked them to take it off the bill of the next person who paid for something.  It felt nice but certainly more uncomfortable than it should have done...

7.  Read five novels: done

8.  Go to the dentist:  Now see, I have a bit of a phobia and I have put this off hugely (for about 8 years).  I got a registration form twice and genuinely lost it... but finally have an initial appointment next week.  I am 87% sure I'll get there.

These two 'helped' with the list...

9.  Sail independently:  Unfortunately I didn't even get on the water this year.  This is the kind of thing that strongly depends on other people and the ducks didn't align...  This summer, for sure.

10.  Sew a cushion cover and 11.  Sew a bag:  I did attempt this a couple of times over the year but my sewing machine needs a more experienced eye to make it behave properly.  However this week my mum and I sat down and cut out the bag, and tomorrow I'm taking my machine for her to fix and a bag and cover we shall make.  I don't really have the patience for fiddly things and struggle with precision on anything other than a computer...  but I'd love to be a confident sewer.  This is a good step.

12.  Blow up a balloon without crying:  Shut up.

300 miles DONE

13.  Clear out DVDs and misc nonsense:  Done.  

14:  Have a dinner party:  Some friends old and new came together and put up with my weird concoctions.  At a point I was feeling quite reclusive I was glad this was on my list to encourage me to reach out.  And no one got ill.

15.  Make a cake: Beetroot and Chocolate.  Boom.

16. Do a cycle challenge:  Have I not mentioned this recently?

17.  Watch all of West Wing:  I got into Netflix and watched a fair amount of other top notch drama.

18.  Paint a picture:  Done, and no I'm not showing you.

19.  Buy some jeans that fit:  Complicated one; thanks to the cycling my body shape changed a lot so I have had jeans that have both fitted and not throughout the year.  Exciting stuff.

20.  Climb Snowdon:  Left it too late and decided it was unwise in Jan or Feb.  Another one for this summer though.

21.  Send an anonymous gift: Done.

Rugger with Pa 

22.  Create the book of my life so far:  This was to encourage me to scan in all our family albums, which I have done.  Good thing I had the deadline as it pushed me to keep going, our photos are very precious and I shall be making lots of photobox gifts for a long time to come as well as my own 30 Years Smilebox.

23.  See Arsenal play:  Not on my salary.  But watched a game on TV.

24:  See Exeter Chiefs play:  Done, against London Irish (who lost) with my dad.  Good times.

Upcycletastic

25.  Go to a music concert: I did, with my brother.  Baka Beyond, world music.  Cultured.

26.  See a comedian live: Several, in Dublin with my bestie.

27.  Upcycle a piece of furniture:  Loved this one, if I had space I'd have upcycled my hear out all year.

Buried treasure

28: Swim in the sea:  Done, in the South China Sea.

29.  Bury some treasure:  Done, no I'm not telling where.

30.  Watch the top ten movies ever:  There are a few that I should have seen and clearly it's objective so having consulted 'the internet' I have now seen: Breakfast at Tiffany's, Pulp Fiction, The English Patient, Reservoir Dogs, Schindler's List, Rain Man, Annie Hall, The Dark Knight, Talented Mr Ripley, Erin Brockovich.   


So that's it - 21 Ticked off and 5 pending/gave myself a half point.

Now, what to do with the next 30 years...?

Simile though your heart is breaking

'But what does it feel like?'

Sometimes this is asked because all the poetry of clouds and darkness doesn't make sense, and sometimes as a way of trying to understand how 'feeling sad' can knock someone's life off balance in such practical and real ways.

For my own sake I've tried many ways to articulate what it is I feel, although it can be hard to get past describing the effects rather than the experience.  I thought I might share my humble attempt;

So in the style of Alanis Morissette here's the list.  But it's not about irony (not that her song is either really...), it's about depression.

Imagine taking the feeling associated with each bullet point and putting it in a bottle.  On some days you just drink one of the bottles, on others you might have them all in your system.  (In case anyone is alarmed by the list, I haven't experienced all these actual things - I'm just using my imagination to conjure up a reaction that can be likened to some of the experience of depression.)


It's like...

• Being on a non-stop train to the airport and quickly realising you've not got your passport.  But you have to sit on the train and wait to arrive knowing you're going to miss your flight.
• Standing within a crowd of strangers who are whispering about you and giving you suspicious looks.
• The feeling the day after everyone you love found out you'd been lying to them.
• An indefinite, restless wait for a call to tell you bad news
• Standing in an ice rink in bare feet whilst cocky children whizz around you.
• It's just arriving to a party you'd been looking forward to, to find everyone leaving and you missed it.
• Knowing that everyone you know has been given a £5000 gift for being wonderful, and you weren't eligible
• Listening to the person you secretly love tell you about their new relationship.
• Being the only one at work that knows you're all going to lose your jobs at any moment.
• Finding out your group of best friends went on holiday without you.
• Trying on all of your clothes and none of them fitting, and you have no money to replace them.
• Showing a painting you've worked tirelessly to finish to your loved ones for them to be underwhelmed.
• Tidying up after a party you threw, that only you came to
• Knowing you'll be stuck in a rut doing the same mundane routine for the rest of your life
• Waking up on the day you have to go to a funeral or event or work that you've been dreading
• Doing a massive supermarket shop and realising you haven't got your wallet at the checkout
• Getting to your wedding day and finding you're not enjoying it
• Going on a once in a lifetime trip and being ill in bed for all of it
• Feeling the loss of someone so deeply even though the world has moved on
• Everyone telling you that you 'should be better by now' and questioning you as to why you aren't coping

Two of my most effective antidotes

Well, that's quite a larder of bottled up feelings. I appreciate that it might only make sense to people with my kind of imagination and emotional sensitivities,  But one of the defining features of depression is that so often the feelings are there without the logical trigger.  'I just feel low' is possibly more frustrating when it has no 'because'.

I guess that the challenge is to find some antidotes and soothing balms among it all.

And yes, I've now got Ironic in my head too.  It's like raaaayyeeeaaain...

Twice as much

We're back to the day to day.  No mad trips to plan or challenges to feel guilty about not training for or bags to pack.

I find the hum drum of the ordinary to be the most threatening rhythm in which to function.  Give me pressure and distraction and variety anytime - I may have my ups and downs but I prefer the multicolour to the uniform beige.

And this fear of being dragged into the fog is possibly what led me to accidentally get another puppy...

Druna was too irresistible.  I went to a meeting, I came back with a Springerdoradoodle (Springer/Labrador x Mini Poodle).  Mabel is warming to the idea of being a big sister now she's over the shock.

Clearly I'm both turning into a crazy dog lady and consciously letting myself in for a few months of more poop, training and twice as much canine loopiness.  So why?

I find it easier to look after myself if there's something I need to look after myself for.  Owning dogs obviously is a selfish act; they are to enhance my own lifestyle and make me healthier.  I need them as much as they need me, and that is a very positive thing at the moment.

When the hum drum of the daily grind gets to me I have two creatures at different parts of their discovery and dependence to remind me of the joys to be found each day.  I have the innocent vulnerability of a snoring 9 week old to show me that beauty can be found in weakness.  My prancing 2 year old puppy demonstrates the simplicity of loyalty and gratefulness.

The rhythm of the ordinary can be joined by phrases of everyday adventure and notes of humble happiness.

And of course my dogs are pretty cute.

I'm jealous of my dog. Seriously.

Does anyone else look at their dog and wish with all their heart they could swap places?  Really, not flippantly, but with utter envy and wholehearted regret that it cannot be.  If only I believed that somehow I could be reincarnated I truly think that I would put my energies into positioning my soul into the right place for a puppy rebirth.

Ok, this has got a bit weird.  And I wish I could say I was overstating the truth but the fact is, I often look at Mabel and know I would give an awful lot to have such a joyful life.  Yes it's shorter than the average (Western) human's but it's lived with such gusto.  I wouldn't mind running into a few glass doors and accidentally drinking the odd spilled pool of vinegar (she is a bit of a twit) if it meant I could find utter fulfillment in a tummy tickle or a moving ball.  And gosh, how she loves people.  Unconditionally, without limit, judgement or memory.

Clearly, to live like this requires you to be dimmer than a darkened room in a long lost cave... but as Mabel demonstrates; ignorance is sometimes bliss.

So here I am again, resigned to my dismal fate of not being a dog.  I have a brain that over-thinks and is often a bit wonky (medical term there).  I feel burdened, restless and reluctant most of my waking hours.  And as for people... well most seem ok I guess.  But I'm not gonna lick their faces.

For me it is not second nature, or first for that matter, to enjoy things or throw caution to the wind.  Unlike Mabel, I more than look where I am going and wonder if I have the energy to chase anything at all.  I am preoccupied by purpose, possessed by the search for meaning and anxious to not fall off anything - metaphorically or literally.

Mabel's had her fair share of accidents, cuts and bruises.  And does it slow her down?  If only... And yes, she doesn't have to pay bills, concern herself with climate change or worry about her health.  But I've said it before and I declare it again; I want to be More Mabel.

I went surfing for the first time this weekend and got a glimpse of what Mabelness might feel like.  I took on those waves, determined to get through them to reach a decent depth to catch a wave.  However many times they pushed me backwards and slapped me about I kept pushing through them.  I lollopped onto the board on my stomach regardless of how clumsy I felt, I attempted to stand up even though I knew I'd probably fall straight off.  I risked being chucked off more than I risked missing a good wave.  I kept going.  Because it was really fun.

I don't do many things in life just for the sake of it, I'm a bit too thinky perhaps.  I do things because they need to be done and even the things I want to do are probably because I've put them on a list as part of a strategy to be a more fulfilled, interesting person.  But I don't chase balls for absolutely no reason other that because I like it (definitely metaphorical).

Every time I envy Mabel sleeping contentedly without a care in the world or running like a loon up and down the stairs just cos she likes it, I'm going to do something that doesn't matter.  Might be go for a pointless walk.  Or put on a nice outfit for no reason.  It might be to bake a cake for no one or write someone a card just because.  It might be to join Mabel on the floor and see if I can work out what is so fascinating about licking the rug (it probably won't include that one actually).  Who knows.  It doesn't matter.  Not everything has to.

Poorly Paw

I came back from Colombia determined to put my childish ways to rest and alter some of my less helpful thinking once and for all.

In some respects I have succeeded; I have worn my high heels and smart dresses despite the weather or occasion.  And it has felt great.

I have spring cleaned my belongings and got round to some things I'd been procrastinating over.

I have refused to get stressed over work or anything beyond my control.

I have booked holidays and invested in friends.

Feeling sorry for herself.

Then Mabel got hurt, and so did I.  She cut her foot flinging herself after a ball on the estuary.  I got cut up by my blasted clouds again.  She was back on her feet after three weeks.  I wasn't.

It came from no where really - and that's what is so frustrating.  However instead of dissecting the cause I have chosen to be far more honest about how I struggle.  Because one in four people do too at some point and the only way to start to cope is by not being ashamed of it.

It's hard not to be angry that every time I feel like I'm getting to a happy place the wind is taken from my sails.  It's hard not to feel guilty at how I let others down and am not great to be around.  It's hard not to be self pitying and give air to the lies the clouds surround me with.

I'm having to learn that despite all the promises I make to myself, the resolutions I make public, the lists I write... for me clouds will come and interrupt.  But sod them, I will still promise, resolve and list.

One way I've found to channel my struggle and dis-empower the voice that tells me I'm useless is to write.  I'm not a poet and I'm lacking in a fair wodge of education... but it's wonderful therapy.  It's all written with the intention that it stays between God and me, but I wonder if this little musing might be helpful to all those who don't know what depression feels like but would like to understand.

Like I said, hardly poetry.  But sod you clouds.  I am not ashamed.

As the light dims doubt starts to fill the air

All that was clear and simple now seems blurred

The dark begins its invasion, stealing sight

Clarity drains from view and calm threatens to fade

The darkness now crawling through the cracks

Increases its assault on my senses, numbing and dull

Now grabbing at shapes, the certainty of form so distant

I fear I’ll be enveloped never to be in sharp definition again

Now in the black shadows my soul is in hiding

Scared of both being forgotten and being noticed

I was sure I knew where everything was placed

But now the alarm of reaching out overwhelms me

After a while my eyes acclimatise and seeing is a fantasy

It’s safe here protected in the incomplete scenery

Please close all the curtains, let me slow to the pace of grey

I think I might find contentment here in the quiet

Here no one puts forward their shrill demands

The dark shields me from the empty, filling the nothing

Its power slows the rhythm of pressure and dims the burden

I can lay it all down here, lay me down to rest