Monday, December 24, 2012
Sunday, November 18, 2012
A confession
You've probably been wondering where I was. In fact for much of this year I've been wondering where I am too. I've been lost.
It has been a difficult year. On the positive side, Son 1 did exceptionally well at college and is now at his first choice university. On the negative side Son 2 regressed into increasingly difficult behaviour. His anxiety increased and his mood darkened. We still don't know whether home or school was the cause, but I suspect both. Without wanting to go into too much detail, I became a victim of abuse.
I was lucky that Son 2 currently has an excellent social worker who responded very quickly, but he and I were badly let down by another professional who was supposed to be helping with his behaviour. The crisis escalated to the point where we had no choice but to let social services accomodate him in order to safeguard me, as a physically vulnerable adult myself.
The wonderful social worker swung into action again and just a couple of weeks later Son 2 was able to move from respite care into a specialist residential placement which will hopefully be his long term home. It means that he has left school a year earlier than planned, but he can get consistent care and regular psychology input at the home as well as learning life skills and trying new activities. It is a lovely, newly renovated building and he was the second resident into this brand new service. He seems very happy and settled there and it is very much what we'd have been wanting for him next year anyway.
Of course you don't stop being a carer just because someone no longer lives under the same roof. Son 2 now lives 50 miles away from us but we visit when we can and I am in regular contact with his carers by phone. I organise his finances, liaise with his social worker and attend meetings about his placement. He is still very much part of our family, even though, like his brother, he has reached the age to leave home.
The events of this year have left me shaken and for a while I understood exactly how women who victims of any sort of abuse feel. My health is currently suffering and I have not been able to write creatively since the start of the year. I'd had lots of plans for the next year, to bring me to the place I wanted to be when both boys had left home. The timetable has been thrown into disarray, but I shall still go ahead.
But that brings me to the future of this blog. It's been a record of my sons and my writing. The boys are now both independent adults and it is no longer appropriate to write much about them. The creative writing has temporarily stalled. This is the 700th post on this blog but it could be one of the last.
I'm planning a new writing and creativity related blog to accompany what I hope will be my future life path. I'll be sure to let you know when that is up and running and I hope you'll follow me there. In the meantime thanks for reading about my journey so far and bear with me while I reinvent myself.
It has been a difficult year. On the positive side, Son 1 did exceptionally well at college and is now at his first choice university. On the negative side Son 2 regressed into increasingly difficult behaviour. His anxiety increased and his mood darkened. We still don't know whether home or school was the cause, but I suspect both. Without wanting to go into too much detail, I became a victim of abuse.
I was lucky that Son 2 currently has an excellent social worker who responded very quickly, but he and I were badly let down by another professional who was supposed to be helping with his behaviour. The crisis escalated to the point where we had no choice but to let social services accomodate him in order to safeguard me, as a physically vulnerable adult myself.
The wonderful social worker swung into action again and just a couple of weeks later Son 2 was able to move from respite care into a specialist residential placement which will hopefully be his long term home. It means that he has left school a year earlier than planned, but he can get consistent care and regular psychology input at the home as well as learning life skills and trying new activities. It is a lovely, newly renovated building and he was the second resident into this brand new service. He seems very happy and settled there and it is very much what we'd have been wanting for him next year anyway.
Of course you don't stop being a carer just because someone no longer lives under the same roof. Son 2 now lives 50 miles away from us but we visit when we can and I am in regular contact with his carers by phone. I organise his finances, liaise with his social worker and attend meetings about his placement. He is still very much part of our family, even though, like his brother, he has reached the age to leave home.
The events of this year have left me shaken and for a while I understood exactly how women who victims of any sort of abuse feel. My health is currently suffering and I have not been able to write creatively since the start of the year. I'd had lots of plans for the next year, to bring me to the place I wanted to be when both boys had left home. The timetable has been thrown into disarray, but I shall still go ahead.
But that brings me to the future of this blog. It's been a record of my sons and my writing. The boys are now both independent adults and it is no longer appropriate to write much about them. The creative writing has temporarily stalled. This is the 700th post on this blog but it could be one of the last.
I'm planning a new writing and creativity related blog to accompany what I hope will be my future life path. I'll be sure to let you know when that is up and running and I hope you'll follow me there. In the meantime thanks for reading about my journey so far and bear with me while I reinvent myself.
Saturday, July 28, 2012
London 2012
On 6th July 2005 I attended a yoga class and then did my weekly food shop as usual. After loading the car I turned the ignition key and the radio came on, just as the announcement was being made about the location of the 2012 Olympics. I held my breath and stayed listening in the car park until it was announced that London, my adopted home town, had won.
Fast forward 24 hours and the city was reeling from the aftermath of the 7/7 bombings. The gloss had been taken off the previous day's announcement and from then on in the Olympics has seemed low key and, in the current financial climate, an expense and inconvenience Londoners could do without. There no longer seemed to be any excitement and we didn't even bother to apply for any tickets. It was only last week that I realised exactly how close the Olympic Park is to where we bought our first home 25 years ago.
But over the last weeks, with the torch procession, everything seems to have slowly changed. Son 1 saw the torch in Maidenhead a couple of weeks ago, as he knows one of the torch bearers there. Three days ago it passed just a mile from our house and he saw it again. I would have loved to observe this once in a lifetime event but am not strong enough to stand for ages, especially in the recent heat.
Yesterday the building excitement culminated in a magnificent opening ceremony. It was quirky and very British, packed full of so many historical and cultural references that I think it would take many reruns on iPlayer to pick them all up. It portrayed Great Britain in all its tolerant, multicultural glory, even including a tasteful tribute to the dead. And who could fail to love the parachuting Queen and Mr Bean in Chariots of Fire? Or the unique cauldron?
I wonder what the rest of the world made of Danny Boyle's spectacular love letter to his country. I hope they liked it as much as we did.
Fast forward 24 hours and the city was reeling from the aftermath of the 7/7 bombings. The gloss had been taken off the previous day's announcement and from then on in the Olympics has seemed low key and, in the current financial climate, an expense and inconvenience Londoners could do without. There no longer seemed to be any excitement and we didn't even bother to apply for any tickets. It was only last week that I realised exactly how close the Olympic Park is to where we bought our first home 25 years ago.
But over the last weeks, with the torch procession, everything seems to have slowly changed. Son 1 saw the torch in Maidenhead a couple of weeks ago, as he knows one of the torch bearers there. Three days ago it passed just a mile from our house and he saw it again. I would have loved to observe this once in a lifetime event but am not strong enough to stand for ages, especially in the recent heat.
Yesterday the building excitement culminated in a magnificent opening ceremony. It was quirky and very British, packed full of so many historical and cultural references that I think it would take many reruns on iPlayer to pick them all up. It portrayed Great Britain in all its tolerant, multicultural glory, even including a tasteful tribute to the dead. And who could fail to love the parachuting Queen and Mr Bean in Chariots of Fire? Or the unique cauldron?
I wonder what the rest of the world made of Danny Boyle's spectacular love letter to his country. I hope they liked it as much as we did.
Thursday, May 31, 2012
100 RPM
I have a tiny flash fiction in this book, published today. 100 RPM is a collection of stories inspired by music found on YouTube, each story being 100 words or less.
The anthology, to benefit the charity One in Four, was edited by Caroline Smailes, who explains here how she went about publishing it as a Kindle ebook. I'm proud to be included with so many brilliant writers and look forward to discovering the work of those I don't yet know.
My own story, number 48, is called Barricades. It might not surprise you to learn that it was inspired by a famous Spandau Ballet song.
100 RPM is currently very cheap on Amazon and all profits will go to help survivors of sexual abuse. What's not to like?
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
Another legend gone
The last few months have been full of nostalgia.
There have been numerous television programmes about the 1970's, the decade in which I was a teenager. I'm currently watching 56 Up, the latest instalment of a series which which has followed a group of people from the age of seven. Although the participants are a few years older than me, the film clips are so very familiar, making me wonder if I ever looked and sounded like that too. The answer is, I think, yes. I can't help comparing how different we were back in the 70s to teens of today.
Then there has been the demise this year of three mighty pop legends of the 70s and early 80s, which has led me to rediscover their music on YouTube.
RIP Robin Gibb.
There have been numerous television programmes about the 1970's, the decade in which I was a teenager. I'm currently watching 56 Up, the latest instalment of a series which which has followed a group of people from the age of seven. Although the participants are a few years older than me, the film clips are so very familiar, making me wonder if I ever looked and sounded like that too. The answer is, I think, yes. I can't help comparing how different we were back in the 70s to teens of today.
Then there has been the demise this year of three mighty pop legends of the 70s and early 80s, which has led me to rediscover their music on YouTube.
RIP Robin Gibb.
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Death of a disco queen
It's always sad when you hear of the passing of a music legend, whose songs formed part of the soundtrack of your life as you were growing up. Today is no exception, with the news that Donna Summer has died of cancer. Perhaps her most famous song was Love To Love You Baby, but I've always loved this Jimmy Webb classic, so what better way to remember Donna?
Friday, April 13, 2012
Two little letters
What do the letters MS mean to you?
Microsoft? I think we will all recognise that one.
Manuscript? Many of my writer friends will relate to this.
Or multiple sclerosis? How many people really know what this means, I wonder. That question hit home the other day, when I had to explain my hidden disability.
Right from the beginning I've not been shy about my diagnosis. After all, I did announce it online and I've subsequently written an article about it. This approach would not be right for all, especially people whose employment might be put in jeopardy, but I'd rather that people knew that the underlying reason for wobbliness or occasional slurred speech is illness or MS fatigue, rather than assume I'd had a surplus of alcohol.
On Monday I took the bus into town to shop. I had a number of errands to run and was tired even before I started out. Waiting at the bus stop a lady smiled at me, but we didn't engage in conversation. Later that afternoon, when I was too exhausted to walk any further and the rain had started, I headed for home. On my bus I found the same lady, who pointed at the disabled seat next to her.
"I saw you in Marks & Spencer," she said. "You looked as if you were in pain."
I explained to her that I have multiple sclerosis, that walking is very tiring and can be painful due to stiffness and spasms, which aren't always well-controlled by my medication. I joked that on that afternoon I'd staggered from one bench to another and she said she'd often seen me out and about locally, walking at my very slow pace.
It was a bit of a conversation killer, to be honest. Most people don't have much idea what MS is like, especially in the earlier stages. The fact that each person with MS is affected in different ways doesn't help either. Before I was diagnosed I had imagined that the majority of people with MS were in wheelchairs, but that is definitely not the case.
We both got off at the same stop. My lovely fellow traveller, who looked considerably older than me, shot off at high speed, while I made my way slowly and painfully home to crash out on the sofa.
Microsoft? I think we will all recognise that one.
Manuscript? Many of my writer friends will relate to this.
Or multiple sclerosis? How many people really know what this means, I wonder. That question hit home the other day, when I had to explain my hidden disability.
Right from the beginning I've not been shy about my diagnosis. After all, I did announce it online and I've subsequently written an article about it. This approach would not be right for all, especially people whose employment might be put in jeopardy, but I'd rather that people knew that the underlying reason for wobbliness or occasional slurred speech is illness or MS fatigue, rather than assume I'd had a surplus of alcohol.
On Monday I took the bus into town to shop. I had a number of errands to run and was tired even before I started out. Waiting at the bus stop a lady smiled at me, but we didn't engage in conversation. Later that afternoon, when I was too exhausted to walk any further and the rain had started, I headed for home. On my bus I found the same lady, who pointed at the disabled seat next to her.
"I saw you in Marks & Spencer," she said. "You looked as if you were in pain."
I explained to her that I have multiple sclerosis, that walking is very tiring and can be painful due to stiffness and spasms, which aren't always well-controlled by my medication. I joked that on that afternoon I'd staggered from one bench to another and she said she'd often seen me out and about locally, walking at my very slow pace.
It was a bit of a conversation killer, to be honest. Most people don't have much idea what MS is like, especially in the earlier stages. The fact that each person with MS is affected in different ways doesn't help either. Before I was diagnosed I had imagined that the majority of people with MS were in wheelchairs, but that is definitely not the case.
We both got off at the same stop. My lovely fellow traveller, who looked considerably older than me, shot off at high speed, while I made my way slowly and painfully home to crash out on the sofa.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
End of an era
I often get to the end of a month and take stock of what has happened and what I have achieved. This month was no exception and the achievement was a significant one.
Earlier this month Son 2 turned eighteen, which means that we have safely raised both our children to adulthood. Now that might not seem like anything special, but anyone who knows our family history will realise that even from the very first days of parenthood it might not have been the case and there have been other scares along the way.
Our next task as parents is to prepare them both to fly the nest over the coming eighteen months, if all goes to plan. I can no longer tick a box which says I have a child here, we now only have adult children living with us, which is legally something completely different. After more than twenty years, it's the end of an era.
Earlier this month Son 2 turned eighteen, which means that we have safely raised both our children to adulthood. Now that might not seem like anything special, but anyone who knows our family history will realise that even from the very first days of parenthood it might not have been the case and there have been other scares along the way.
Our next task as parents is to prepare them both to fly the nest over the coming eighteen months, if all goes to plan. I can no longer tick a box which says I have a child here, we now only have adult children living with us, which is legally something completely different. After more than twenty years, it's the end of an era.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Dear Mr Cowell
Never judge a book by its cover. You really haven't learned that yet, have you? (For those who didn't see the programme, his pre-audition comment on this clip, which can't be embedded, will show what I mean.)
Jonathan is undoubtedly a very talented young man but he is also clearly very vulnerable. Britain's Got Talent will hopefully make him, but it could equally break him. For now, at least, he needs Charlotte with him on the journey and she needs to be given the opportunity to shine too. Please don't mess with their heads, there's far too much at stake.
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Checking in
I'm still here.
I haven't posted for almost a month. There is no excuse, except that I have been insanely busy and my creative juices seem to have dried up. My caring responsibilities have increased over the last few weeks, with a knock-on effect in the form of physical and mental fatigue. I'm sure I'll get used to it in time, but for now there don't seem to be enough hours in the day to fit in everything I want and need to do, whilst still trying to comply with doctor's orders.
I'll be back just as soon as I have something more interesting to say.
I haven't posted for almost a month. There is no excuse, except that I have been insanely busy and my creative juices seem to have dried up. My caring responsibilities have increased over the last few weeks, with a knock-on effect in the form of physical and mental fatigue. I'm sure I'll get used to it in time, but for now there don't seem to be enough hours in the day to fit in everything I want and need to do, whilst still trying to comply with doctor's orders.
I'll be back just as soon as I have something more interesting to say.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Monday, February 06, 2012
Borgen
We don't have much time to watch television nowadays, so when my husband suggested that we spent our Saturday evenings watching a subtitled Danish series about politics, I have to admit I was less than impressed. Even the fact that it was from the producers of The Killing, to which we came very late, didn't convince me.
But I couldn't have been more wrong. Borgen, about a newly elected female Prime Minister trying to hold together a fragile coalition government as well as family life, quickly became must-see viewing. It focused on the worlds of both politicians and journalists, linked by the Prime Minister's spin doctor. There were strong and believable female roles on both sides of the fence but for me Sidse Babett Knudsen, who played Birgitte Nyborg, the Prime Minister, stood out. An actress who can portray so much through just subtle facial expressions, she managed to balance the strengths and vulnerability of her character to great effect.
Borgen has been perhaps a surprise hit, but all ten episodes are currently still available on BBC iPlayer, at least until Saturday. Along with Sherlock, it has provided some quality viewing at the start of the year, so I was pleased to find out that a second series has just been bought by the BBC and a third is being filmed.
But I couldn't have been more wrong. Borgen, about a newly elected female Prime Minister trying to hold together a fragile coalition government as well as family life, quickly became must-see viewing. It focused on the worlds of both politicians and journalists, linked by the Prime Minister's spin doctor. There were strong and believable female roles on both sides of the fence but for me Sidse Babett Knudsen, who played Birgitte Nyborg, the Prime Minister, stood out. An actress who can portray so much through just subtle facial expressions, she managed to balance the strengths and vulnerability of her character to great effect.
Borgen has been perhaps a surprise hit, but all ten episodes are currently still available on BBC iPlayer, at least until Saturday. Along with Sherlock, it has provided some quality viewing at the start of the year, so I was pleased to find out that a second series has just been bought by the BBC and a third is being filmed.
Wednesday, February 01, 2012
January
So January slipped away before I knew it.
What have I been doing? Well, I had a birthday. I've been organising, but not going on, two uni applicant days for Son 1. I've been downloading lots of cheap and free books to my Kindle. I've been trying to deal with Son 2's increasing behavioural issues.
And I've been writing.
I completed the 31 days of the River of Stones project. To be fair I did on a few occasions forget to post the stone which was germinating in my mind, but I always caught up the next day and I ended the month with 31 stones written.
I've also started doing Helen M Hunt's Hop On, Hop Off short story course and I'm enjoying it very much. As some of you may know, womag story writing is an area in which I've had no success so far and I'm a great admirer of Helen's stories for that market, so I'm hoping some of her skill will rub off on me. Woman's Weekly has always been the weekly magazine which I feel suits my writing style best and Helen has had significant success in that very competitive market. Although womag stories require the same writing skills as other genres there are definite restrictions on content and I'm trying hard to rein in my darker side!
Helen also runs face to face workshops but if you are looking for something very flexible the Hop On, Hop Off course might just fit the bill.
What have I been doing? Well, I had a birthday. I've been organising, but not going on, two uni applicant days for Son 1. I've been downloading lots of cheap and free books to my Kindle. I've been trying to deal with Son 2's increasing behavioural issues.
And I've been writing.
I completed the 31 days of the River of Stones project. To be fair I did on a few occasions forget to post the stone which was germinating in my mind, but I always caught up the next day and I ended the month with 31 stones written.
I've also started doing Helen M Hunt's Hop On, Hop Off short story course and I'm enjoying it very much. As some of you may know, womag story writing is an area in which I've had no success so far and I'm a great admirer of Helen's stories for that market, so I'm hoping some of her skill will rub off on me. Woman's Weekly has always been the weekly magazine which I feel suits my writing style best and Helen has had significant success in that very competitive market. Although womag stories require the same writing skills as other genres there are definite restrictions on content and I'm trying hard to rein in my darker side!
Helen also runs face to face workshops but if you are looking for something very flexible the Hop On, Hop Off course might just fit the bill.
Monday, January 16, 2012
Success
I told you about Caroline Smailes' flash fiction writing challenge here. Well it was a huge success. Over 350 stories were submitted of which 100 were chosen for the anthology and I'm delighted to tell you that my story Barricades was one of them.
I'll give you the details of the Kindle book as soon as it is released, but don't forget you won't have to own a Kindle to read it.
I'll give you the details of the Kindle book as soon as it is released, but don't forget you won't have to own a Kindle to read it.
Friday, January 06, 2012
A new writing challenge
There are writing challenges out there at almost any time: NaNoWriMo and Sally Quilford's 100,000 words in 100 days being two recent and current ones. But I'm not a fast writer and have to fit my writing in between so many other commitments that I've never dared tackle a big challenge like that.
I do, however, enjoy the challenge of writing short snippets such as small stones and like to use my writing to support worthy charities. In fact my first publication came in a charity fundraiser as a result of a 300 word blog challenge, Your Messages.
So I was delighted to read that Caroline Smailes has set up a new challenge for 100 word flash pieces to be included in a Kindle book to raise funds for One in Four. The catch is that each piece must be based on, inspired by or linked to a song on YouTube and the closing date is next Wednesday,11th January.
I'll leave Caroline to explain all the rules and the story behind why she has again chosen to support that charity here.
I've already entered, please join me.
I do, however, enjoy the challenge of writing short snippets such as small stones and like to use my writing to support worthy charities. In fact my first publication came in a charity fundraiser as a result of a 300 word blog challenge, Your Messages.
So I was delighted to read that Caroline Smailes has set up a new challenge for 100 word flash pieces to be included in a Kindle book to raise funds for One in Four. The catch is that each piece must be based on, inspired by or linked to a song on YouTube and the closing date is next Wednesday,11th January.
I'll leave Caroline to explain all the rules and the story behind why she has again chosen to support that charity here.
I've already entered, please join me.
Sunday, January 01, 2012
Another river of stones
I forgot to mention that I am once again taking part in the River of
Stones writing project this January and you can find all my recent small stones on a separate blog, small stones in a river.
I've already shown myself to be rubbish at remembering to update the blog regularly between projects. But even just writing small stones daily for two months a year, and knowing others are doing the same, has proven to be very satisfying.
For more information on the River of Stones project, and how you can join us, visit Fiona and Kaspa here at Writing Our Way Home
Friday, December 30, 2011
Tiptoeing into 2012
I'm not keen on New Year resolutions. You know, the sort where you pledge to give up something or lose a ridiculous amount of weight in next to no time. They are the sort which you break almost immediately and then cause you guilt.
But I have been taking a look at my life and how I can better prioritise in 2012. The last few months of 2011 have been a rollercoaster, from a desperate low to a fantastic high and back to low again. It's not been easy and some things had to give, mostly my creative writing, which made me sad.
In terms of writing, my currently small scale commercial work has to take first place, as it reliably pays. I then intend to concentrate on short stories for a few months, whilst I further flesh out my plot for novel two. Having already made one false start on novel two, I've had to go back to the drawing board, and will eventually start to write again in a different genre, with a different main character and more plot points on the scaffold. But I'll get there, I really will.
I also need to start sending Walking on Tiptoe out again. It is currently out with a few agents but I suspect that the silence from two of those can by now be construed as a no. I think that this will be the year when I start sending it out to indie publishers, whilst also looking into electronic possibilities. I'd love to see it on the Kindle one day, but if I go down that route I'd probably need help with the cover and formatting, which is fairly complex, and I don't have the funds to invest right now.
2012 promises to be an interesting year for the boys. If all goes to plan we will be waving Son 1 off to his first choice university in the autumn, whilst concurrently making plans for Son 2's future. This is likely to be less straightforward.
I have a secret project, which I hope to start working on quietly in the background during the year, building perhaps towards something for the future, when the nest is finally empty.
Last, but definitely not least, December has shown me that I need to take even more care to preserve my health. I'm doing okay, but there is still room for improvement, still a need to be more selfish sometimes and take a little more time out for myself. Recently I have felt as if I am spending almost every waking hour either caring or working (I include thinking about work here!) and my body is telling me that it can't continue. It's difficult to balance Hubby's ad hoc work against my needs but obviously the guaranteed money has to take priority at times.
So what are your plans for 2012?
But I have been taking a look at my life and how I can better prioritise in 2012. The last few months of 2011 have been a rollercoaster, from a desperate low to a fantastic high and back to low again. It's not been easy and some things had to give, mostly my creative writing, which made me sad.
In terms of writing, my currently small scale commercial work has to take first place, as it reliably pays. I then intend to concentrate on short stories for a few months, whilst I further flesh out my plot for novel two. Having already made one false start on novel two, I've had to go back to the drawing board, and will eventually start to write again in a different genre, with a different main character and more plot points on the scaffold. But I'll get there, I really will.
I also need to start sending Walking on Tiptoe out again. It is currently out with a few agents but I suspect that the silence from two of those can by now be construed as a no. I think that this will be the year when I start sending it out to indie publishers, whilst also looking into electronic possibilities. I'd love to see it on the Kindle one day, but if I go down that route I'd probably need help with the cover and formatting, which is fairly complex, and I don't have the funds to invest right now.
2012 promises to be an interesting year for the boys. If all goes to plan we will be waving Son 1 off to his first choice university in the autumn, whilst concurrently making plans for Son 2's future. This is likely to be less straightforward.
I have a secret project, which I hope to start working on quietly in the background during the year, building perhaps towards something for the future, when the nest is finally empty.
Last, but definitely not least, December has shown me that I need to take even more care to preserve my health. I'm doing okay, but there is still room for improvement, still a need to be more selfish sometimes and take a little more time out for myself. Recently I have felt as if I am spending almost every waking hour either caring or working (I include thinking about work here!) and my body is telling me that it can't continue. It's difficult to balance Hubby's ad hoc work against my needs but obviously the guaranteed money has to take priority at times.
So what are your plans for 2012?
Friday, December 23, 2011
Merry Christmas
Can you believe that Fairytale of New York by The Pogues, featuring the late Kirsty MacColl, was first released in 1987? No, neither can I. Enjoy.
Saturday, December 03, 2011
Thirty years on
This time last week I travelled into the West End to meet up with six friends from university. Two I hadn't seen since our graduation day almost thirty years ago, others I hadn't seen for at least seven years and the last meeting with some of those was sadly at a funeral.
It was a reunion which grew out of a chance comment on Facebook and an effort to get in touch with the fellow students for whom I still had contact details, some of whom then brought in others. The only thing we all have in common is that we studied single or joint honours German at The University of Reading in the same year group. But it was amazing how we immediately fell back into easy conversation. Someone brought along the departmental photo (which I'd missed as I was at a job interview) and time was spent trying to recall the names of other students and sharing anecdotes. I was glad to discover I was not the only person who struggled to put names to the familiar faces in the picture.
Some of those present had lived in my hall of residence, others spent the year abroad in the same location as me. As well as the memories we talked about families, jobs and our fears that some of our children will be going out into the world during a recession, just as we did. I wonder if our career paths might have taken different courses if that had not been the case.
Whether or not we ever manage to get together as a group again, the afternoon was life-affirming. It showed that most people's lives don't follow the path they had expected, yet we have all survived. And it proved that friendships based on shared experiences never quite die, however long they are neglected.
It was a reunion which grew out of a chance comment on Facebook and an effort to get in touch with the fellow students for whom I still had contact details, some of whom then brought in others. The only thing we all have in common is that we studied single or joint honours German at The University of Reading in the same year group. But it was amazing how we immediately fell back into easy conversation. Someone brought along the departmental photo (which I'd missed as I was at a job interview) and time was spent trying to recall the names of other students and sharing anecdotes. I was glad to discover I was not the only person who struggled to put names to the familiar faces in the picture.
Some of those present had lived in my hall of residence, others spent the year abroad in the same location as me. As well as the memories we talked about families, jobs and our fears that some of our children will be going out into the world during a recession, just as we did. I wonder if our career paths might have taken different courses if that had not been the case.
Whether or not we ever manage to get together as a group again, the afternoon was life-affirming. It showed that most people's lives don't follow the path they had expected, yet we have all survived. And it proved that friendships based on shared experiences never quite die, however long they are neglected.
Wednesday, November 30, 2011
Depression in the news
The tragic death of the Wales football mamager, Gary Speed, last weekend brought depression into the limelight.
Now I don't intend to speculate on any individual case, but some of what I read online over the next few days both encouraged and upset me because I think it generalised too much. 'Talk to someone' was the general mantra being bandied about the social media. Now I have no argument with this, CBT and counselling are widely and successfully used in mental health treatment and the Samaritans do a fantastic job. It would be wonderful if everyone with depression could confide in a friend or family member and be gently pointed towards the doctor as a starting point for timely and appropriate treatment.
But real life isn't like that. In real life a person who is clinically depressed or experiencing other mental health symptoms may internalise their pain and confusion to such an extent that they are unable to open up to anyone. In real life a seriously depressed person may be clinging onto everyday life with such success that their true condition is not obvious to even close family and friends. Most of us have an impression of a clinically depressed person as being unable to get out of bed and unable to function, but it isn't always like that. In real life depression can cause paranoia, even psychosis, and can be part of another disorder. In real life medication handed out readily by doctors can, in rare cases, actually make the depressed patient suicidal. And there are significant waiting times to see a psychiatrist on the NHS even after a referral has been made.
So yes, if you suspect someone is depressed encourage them to talk. But if someone is, or appears to be, having suicidal thoughts get emergency help for them. A visit to Accident and Emergency will enable a proper assessment to be made and can be a fast track into psychiatric services. It doesn't necessarily mean that the patient will be hospitalised, as if needed there are intensive crisis services operating in the community nowadays. But it might just save a life.
Now I don't intend to speculate on any individual case, but some of what I read online over the next few days both encouraged and upset me because I think it generalised too much. 'Talk to someone' was the general mantra being bandied about the social media. Now I have no argument with this, CBT and counselling are widely and successfully used in mental health treatment and the Samaritans do a fantastic job. It would be wonderful if everyone with depression could confide in a friend or family member and be gently pointed towards the doctor as a starting point for timely and appropriate treatment.
But real life isn't like that. In real life a person who is clinically depressed or experiencing other mental health symptoms may internalise their pain and confusion to such an extent that they are unable to open up to anyone. In real life a seriously depressed person may be clinging onto everyday life with such success that their true condition is not obvious to even close family and friends. Most of us have an impression of a clinically depressed person as being unable to get out of bed and unable to function, but it isn't always like that. In real life depression can cause paranoia, even psychosis, and can be part of another disorder. In real life medication handed out readily by doctors can, in rare cases, actually make the depressed patient suicidal. And there are significant waiting times to see a psychiatrist on the NHS even after a referral has been made.
So yes, if you suspect someone is depressed encourage them to talk. But if someone is, or appears to be, having suicidal thoughts get emergency help for them. A visit to Accident and Emergency will enable a proper assessment to be made and can be a fast track into psychiatric services. It doesn't necessarily mean that the patient will be hospitalised, as if needed there are intensive crisis services operating in the community nowadays. But it might just save a life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)