This might turn into a rambly incoherent sweaty toothed mad man blog this evening. Around twice every year, I have an absolutely marvellous visit from the insomnia fairy. I just can't sleep and it's not even because the clowns will eat me if I do! This normally culminates in a couple of days where I get no sleep whatsoever. I find that it's the only way that I can turn my body clock around.
It's just that this period normally ends up with me at my most creative. This time has been different however. I haven't been able to motivate myself to do anything much. I've procrastinated and I've gazed at my navel and not got anything done. I missed my last therapist appointment today by the way. I completely forgot about it, I tried ringing the surgery to apologise, but the therapist had already left for the day. I really hate letting people down and even though it was in my diary on my phone, I missed it due to being engrossed in marking. Not sure how I feel about it to be honest. Even though I've been doing OK recently, I still don't feel that great in myself. I am constantly paranoid and in-secure. It may be because I am a youngest child. Maybe not. On occasion, it feels as though I am being a whiny arsehole. I don't mean to sound like that, I really don't. Although the support that I receive as a result of the ostensibly whiny posts does give me the warm fuzzies. I would like to share with you an instance of truly wonderful people at this point. This relates directly to me for a change. Yeah, Like this blog isn't just about me anyway??! One of my favourite quotes from the Hitchhikers guide to the galaxy is a line from Zaphod Beeblebrox "If there's anything around here that's more important than me, I want it caught and shot!"
Stop digressing You wanker!
Sorry...
Anyway, I have been commissioned to make some pouches for a magic colleague. Never met the man, but we share a common ground in our mutual love of feats of legerdemain. So we get to talking and it turns out that he reads the blog too. No names. Etc. he tells me that he has a new CD coming out and he would like me to have a copy to see if it helps with the stress. Gratis. For no other reason that he saw another human in distress and wanted to help. I know a lot of my friends do similar just by being there, but this chap is someone that I don't know, he didn't have to, he wanted to. I was genuinely touched by this offer of a helping hand.
I decided at that point that I was going to pay that act of selflessness forward. I will be doing a number of stalls this year and I will decide on the time and place, but there will be at least 5 acts of random kindness perpetrated on the general public
This is my promise here and now to you. Paying it forward, (not only was it an awfully mawkish and sentimental movie) it heals the soul. It makes you feel good and the recipient feel good too and slowly that good feeling spreads. Like a field of mushrooms (seriously? A field of mushrooms? Where the hell did that analogy come from? Oh yeah, right, 3am babbling, gotcha.)
I hope that they will go forward and pay their random acts of kindness forward too. I would like to think that it might make a difference, that it might even spread the warm fuzzies a little. If everyone does perform 5 entirely random acts of kindness with no ulterior motive, it should come back around fairly quickly.
After all, we're all only 6 degrees removed from Kevin Bacon. Why should he get all the love?
Since being diagnosed with depression. I have had such an outpouring of support from people that I hadn't expected.
I've been inundated with well wishes, but there are a few select people that genuinely seem to be consistent in their concern. People who have been through the same thing and are happy to talk about it. face to face or electronically.
As you may know, I refused the pills in favour of the talking option. One of my main reasons for starting the blog in the first place. So it still surprises me when I get people sometimes out of the blue asking me how I'm doing. I shouldn't be surprised I suppose, but I still am. I know they are friends that are looking out for me, but it still gives me a frisson of paranoia when people do (perhaps I should have mentioned before that a couple of the symptoms of my depression manifest as anxiety and paranoia). I can't help wondering why they are asking. I'm trying to learn a method for accepting the questions at face value. Sometimes "How are you doing?" just means "How are you doing?" and not "I am wanting to delve into your very soul to drag you kicking and screaming into sharp relief for all to point and laugh at!"
A while ago, I would have said "fine thanks, how's you?" No matter what the real answer was. Now, I actually take the time to think about it and come up with a considered answer based on how I am actually feeling. I still may say Fine thanks, and mean it, but also the paranoia may take hold for a nerve strangling moment and I say "fine thanks" when I actually mean "GET ME THE HELL OUTTA HERE!!! A-WOOGA A-WOOGA!!! DIVE DIVE DIVE!!!" There is sometimes a very fine line between the two, but the support network is usually very good at spotting when I am not fine. It might be something in my eyes, the set of my jaw or the way that I part my hair (That last bit I made up. It's been a long time since I've been able to find any hair to part). I may however stare wistfully into the distance reminiscent of the Iconic James Dean poster (Well I'd like to think so. In reality, I probably just look myopic) and answer with a few sentences on how my life has been for the past few weeks/months (dependant on when the last time we spoke was). The asker might not want to hear about my ups and downs, but on the other hand, they may be able to help. The support network can only grow. I'd like to think that I am doing my bit in a small way by posting my blog so that others may see what I'm going through and identify with it and maybe get help as a result. I don't want to come over all Mother Theresa (extra points if you know where that quote is from), but if I can be a part of the support network for other people, then I can sleep a little better.
But anyway... That aside, I was having an extra long think in the smallest room on the chair where all people are equal this morning. I have an informal support network that has sprung up around me. People are looking out for my well being. And it occurred to me that we, in general, just don't take enough time to listen, I am guilty of it myself (I'm sorry wife, but I don't always have my entire attention focused on you when you are telling me about your day. I will try harder in future). How many people are slipping through the cracks?
I saw this popping up in my facebook feed yesterday and it starkly highlighted to me how when people do stop and listen it can make a bloody big difference!
When was the last time that you asked someone how they were doing and actually took the time to listen to the response?
Did the "Fine thanks, How's you?" appear genuine?
Was there a doubt in your mind as to if they really were fine?
Did you follow it up or were you thinking of the next thing to say in the conversation? I have to admit that I am getting better at spotting when people are not feeling great (I'm still not brilliant at it but in my defense, I am a bloke after all and people still need to beat emotions into me with a sledge hammer sometimes) and I have started gently challenging them on it. It might occasionally appear pushy (as when others have asked me in the past and not relented), but it might save a life.
Sorry this blog isn't about boobies or film references today, but I went a bit serious after seeing that yesterday.
In addition, if you can help this chap (I do have friends that are London based) there is a hashtag to help him out: were you anywhere near the bridge in question on that date? #findmike
So, I had a doctor's appointment today. That's the third one so far. As it stands, I do feel better about myself and the depression has been diminishing little by little as we go along. Saying that, the anxiety issues have been growing (which came to a head on New Year's Day) to the point that I feel that I've made a step back on that one because I don't want to do things as it might happen again. That was something I really wasn't expecting. In other news, my regular insomnia is back again and I feel exhausted as a result almost constantly. I'm not overly concerned about this however as it's pretty much a regular thing that I've been suffering from twice yearly for almost the past ten years. I won't bore you with the why's and the wherefore's, but it's to do with work and added stress.
I thought I wouldn't be able to handle it this time with everything else that is going on in my life, but I've taken it in my stride which can only be a good thing right? One of the weird things is that when I am experiencing the insomnia, I find that I am at my most functional. It's one of the reasons I started this blog in the first place. I tried a couple of other things like taking a picture a day of stuff that makes me smile or whatever. That kind of fell by the wayside as I don't have a creative spark in that way. I do take decent photos, but the muse has to be there. With the blog, I can pull emotions out of myself and nail them to a screen no matter how positive or negative that I feel.
So... the reasoning behind the title of today's blog...
Hands up who remembers the Muppet Show? This was the voice over to the opening of veterinarian's hospital with Rowlf playing the eponymous vet. Nowadays, Rowlf is pretty much a forgotten character. He's not Kermit, Fozzy or Gonzo or one of the other first stringers he doesn't get many lines (if any in the modern movies), but he was a big part of the ensemble players back in the day. He was the piano player in the house band of Dr Teeth and the Electric Mayhem, he had a starring role in Veterinarian's hospital. He was even in one of my favourite skits with the bust of Beethoven admonishing him not to hum along with the piece he was playing. He was one of the original Muppet creations, he was right there at the beginning with Kermit and Jim Henson in Sam and Friends. That's where I pretty much see myself at the moment. I'm in the background, getting on with things. I don't have (or truth be told want) a speaking role. I am happy to make up numbers. Rowlf was always the stoic with words of wisdom. I think that may be one of the reasons that he was never as popular as the others. I'd like to think that he was a part of Jim's serious side. The one that really wanted to teach kids and let them appreciate culture. I can be a little serious, but that doesn't mean that I can't let my hair down and play some rock and funk with the rest of the band.
I think what I am getting at is that While this is the normal state of affairs at the moment, please don't think that this is the norm. This is the transitional phase. I may be running around like a loon with my wide eyes and my mouth open, I may be playing Beethoven's "Pathetique" pt 2 and humming along to myself alone. It's still me though.
While trying to find the above video clip, I came across a video that I had been looking for for many years. It's not the whole thing, but it actually says a lot. I defy you not to have grit in your eye after watching it. It made me bawl when I saw it originally. the man had that much of a profound effect on my life. He taught me stuff with sesame street, he made me laugh with The Muppet Show he provided me with my life long love of puppetry in all of it's forms (apart from the "of the penis" variety). If just one person believes in you hard enough and strong enough believes in you...
Sorry, this blog started out talking about one thing and became about something else... But on the other hand, not to be mawkish or anything, "Take what you've got and fly with it" is actually pretty much the point of what, in my cack handed way, I've been trying to say.
Thanks Jim trust you and your friends to distill it down to a soundbite that a ten year old can understand.
Well, not so much a magician, more of a mentalist, which is shorthand for 'I am rubbish at card tricks and sleight of hand!' There are also other connotations to that term which would also apply to me. Perhaps more on that in a bit.
I've always been fascinated with the greats. The Houdini's, the Maskelyne's and yes, even the Daniels'. Say what you like about Wiggy, he has had a fabulous career. I identify most with Derren Brown though. He makes no bones about the time he put into learning his trade and his approach to magic. He does not apologise for his performances the way that some magicians are wont to do and will always put little nods to his method into his scripts for those that want to learn.
It's interesting that I thought about that... Apologising for a performance. I have found that I have a tendency to do that when on-stage myself. I still lack the confidence to perform. It may hearken back to the previous blog and my somewhat overwhelming confidence issues. I do have a stage persona, he is attempting to be the confident one, but still tends to be an apologist.
The best performance I felt I ever gave was before Christmas at a charity evening. Where I was pretty much trying out a whole new set. One of the effects was a mind reading bit and that was the first time that I felt that I had a little spark inside me. Looking into the eyes of the volunteer as I delivered the denouement was worth more to me than any payment, than any applause, than anything. I had entertained. There were people that thought that it may have gone on a little too long, but in that moment, I felt as though I was shoulder to shoulder with some of the good 'uns. It's rare and it's ephemeral, but it's so bloody worth it.
One of the reasons that I started performing was to have an acceptable mask to fall back upon if the situation called for it. I could be 'that' guy who never went anywhere without a pack of cards and who could entertain for a couple of minutes. The Yorick who "could set the table on a roar". Not sure how far down that particular road I have travelled though.
I started out my previous blog by saying that I felt 6" tall oft-times, I don't mind telling you, that was one occasion that I felt at least 2 foot 6 and for the rest of the evening (I went on to do some blackjack dealing at the charity casino) I was flying. It may have been the persona taking over, it may have been the way that the effect worked, but secretly, I'd like to think that it was the twinkle of a good trick well done in the eye of a lady whom I held the hand of whilst reading her mind.
It's rare that I have a story that makes me feel good these days. Mostly it's about my life turning to crap and being used as my own cautionary tale. But I do have to remind myself of the glimmer of when something goes right. This was one of those times.
That's how The Empire Strikes Back, one of my all time favourite movies begins. I'd never really actually thought about it before. The rebel alliance scores a major PR victory with the destruction of the Death Star (TM) in A new Hope, but they have realised that the Empire isn't just one giant space station. It's a whole load of small wheels that go together. It's a vast organisation that is pretty much insurmountable and it won't grind to a halt by bunging a couple of torpedoes down an exhaust shaft!
Again, a quick side note... You will find as this blog progresses that I use a lot of movie references. I spent a lot of my formative years either in the warm cocoon of a slightly musty cinema or in my own bedroom watching films over and over to the point that I can quote with the correct nuance and inflection the majority of a number of films. At the time, I felt that this was an awesome skill to have rather than actually going out and talking to people and interacting on a social level, but I have always been an introvert and that process that started over a quarter of a century ago may have had repercussions to the person that I am today... But anyway, I am digressing a little too much, on with the story
That's pretty much how I felt today.
Not just about the crap with the Royal mail demanding that I produce receipts for constituent elements of a piece of leatherwork that was lost in the post so that they can graciously refund me the cost of the materials only rather than compensating the asking price for the piece in question (don't even get me started on that one). It's not even the bank that have been dragging their heels for the past 6 months only to now offer me a slap in the face as a settlement to the PPI that I was most definitely mis-sold in a number of ways!
It's more to do with the way that I view my life at the moment. I feel around 6 inches tall sometimes despite being pretty much able to fill doorways. looking up at situations that I feel that I can't influence and just being swept along with the flow. I have always been one of this life's "Keep calm and soldier on", "don't whinge" and "don't make waves". In the past, people have taken advantage of my good nature and I have found it difficult to raise my voice in dissent. I have left it to the rabble rousers and as a consequence I have become smaller and smaller. I am ill equipped to fit into the space that I fill. And now I am at the point where I am having to look up at everything like it is the north face of the Eiger.
Is there a point to this? If there is, it's showing me that I am back at the first step on the ladder, I've come flying down the snake but perhaps most importantly, I am still on the game board and I am now ready to throw a six and ascend. I realise that the ladder may be a short one and there may be more snakes in my future, but small steps and small realisations like this by (if I may extend the game metaphor to breaking point here...) finding the corner of the jigsaw and metaphorically working down the sides means that I may be able to start re-building myself from the ground up. I doubt that I will ever stand as tall as Chewie, but taller than an Ewok would be a good start.
Ok, so I've decided to blog about my own version of the Black dog that is called Depression. If you don't know what I am talking about, Winston Churchill suffered from very dark depressive moods and he called these moods his black dog. There is a very good video on YouTube that answers a lot of questions regarding the concept of depression.
So, a bit of background first and foremost. I was first diagnosed with depression earlier in 2013 whereupon the doctor prescribed me pills to balance me out. I gratefully accepted said script and went and did what I normally do in this situation (particularly when being prescribed a new treatment) and that was to research first hand reports of this treatment. Some said that they had a positive experience, but the overwhelming majority of reports were that the pills (while balancing you out) take you down before going back up. I wasn't prepared to accept this as a valid treatment as one of the more common side effects of the drug was that it made the majority lethargic and they complained of a numbness to situations. For those of you that know me, you will know that I am a high functioning individual. I don't do the sitting in a dressing gown thing. I like to be doing things and creating things. If the drugs were going to dampen my creative spark, I didn't want anything to do with them. I went back to the doctor and asked to be placed on the waiting list for a therapist appointment.
In the mean time, I took up new hobbies like magic which is always something that I have been fascinated with to try and bring myself out of the funk that I had been dwelling in for a while. Sometimes it works, sometimes it just makes me more frustrated. Again, it may be the character thing that allows me to cope with others in unfamiliar surroundings.
I have come to understand that my condition isn't just depression related, there is a crippling paranoia that comes with it as an added bonus. I see friends as conniving and manipulative (even when I know they are trying to help) my wife has taken to talking to me about anything that she sends on her phone or via facebook that relates to me as a way of alleviating any suspicions that I may have. I know that this is all irrational, I know that I will look back on this blog and probably laugh at the amount that I was paranoid, but in my mind at least, at this moment in time, it is a very real thing.
Fast forward to the festive period...
It isn't the twinkly sugar coated thing that I remember nostalgically. This Christmas in particular, I was feeling a bit like George Bailey before Clarence turned up (That's a reference to It's a Wonderful Life if you were interested. If you haven't seen it, it's worth a viewing.) In my world this Christmas,things were not jolly. To the point where I almost called off going around a friends house on Xmas day due to my wife being at work for the day (She works in an A&E department, so will typically either work Christmas or New Year) because I didn't want to have to face people. Fortunately, I didn't cancel and had a good day where I almost forgot about how wretched I felt.
Fast forward again to New year...
Myself and my wife were invited to a friend's place for a new year's eve party. Again I was on the verge of cancelling as I didn't feel up to it, but felt obligated to go as we were also taking another couple. I was apprehensive about the amount of people that were going to be there but as it turned out, I had nothing to worry about.
Let me take a very brief detour to explain a little about my upbringing etc. I come from an emotionally distant, very small family. I am the youngest of three brothers who had 5 years between each sibling. When I was 16, the middle brother (Peter) was diagnosed with testicular cancer and underwent surgery to have it removed. Unfortunately, it spread to his abdomen and he died in a considerable amount of pain two weeks after my 16th and 2 weeks before his 21st birthday. This has had a pretty profound effect on my life although I won't be going into the how's and the why's of this. As a result of my upbringing, I get anxious in large gatherings, possibly one of the reasons I started with re-enactment and LRPing was to try and alleviate this anxiety issue with the insertion of a character where I wouldn't have to deal with it, it would be the character that deals with it.
So, on with New year...
The new year's eve celebrations were great as it turned out with fewer than 10 people in attendance in an environment that, while not completely familiar, was re-assuring and comforting in equal measure. New year's day was a little more fraught however. We all were due to go to another friend's house after lunch. As it turned out, this was the antihesis of the previous evening. There were over 30 people in the house over a number of rooms; the kitchen was a whirl of activity and as soon as I arrived I was subjected to a certain amount of ribbing for the actions of Xmas day where I had done something unexpectedly nice for my wife on picking her up from work. Even though this was intended as good natured ribbing, I felt very singled out as a result. This ate away at any confidence that I had mustered on the drive over to the house and as a result I was feeling very anxious to the point that I didn't even want to remove my coat as that felt like an armour around me that was familiar and comforting in a hostile (as far as I viewed it) environment. I was very uncomfortable in an unknown environment with a large amount of people (who are friends, but the effect was overwhelming).
the major problem is now that I feel really bad about the unintended alienation of my friends that occurred as a result of that experience. I feel really crappy about lying to my friends to say that I was fighting a cold and had to leave when in fact I was freaking out at the amount of people and the unfamiliar surroundings.
So, fast forward to now and my reasoning behind starting this blog.
I want to apologise to my friends that see this. If you were at New year and felt sleighted, please don't be. This was my problem. I have an issue with large groups when there is no character to fall back on. Going onwards, I will alienate people. I don't intend to, this will just be something that I do. Again, it's not your fault, it's my problem. Please don't take it personally.
I also started this blog to be able to look back on my condition and see how I am progressing and getting better. I will post anything and everything in here. It's not meant to be warts and all, but I am under no illusions that this is what it will turn out to be. It may appear to be me just having a moan and a rant sometimes. It will chart my progress though and maybe, I will be able to look back on this blog and smile at how I was at this point in my life.
