Oasis in the desert

There are a number of people in my life, who sadly I will probably never meet, who have made a massive impact on my life. They have spoken into my life, or given me an image or produced some form of art/ media that has helped me to put things into perspective and move forward. Eddie Izzard and Natalie Merchant are two people who have made a major positive influence on my life. They are gifts that just keep on giving. Eddie Izzard has helped me to laugh and cry and just enjoy life when necessary. Natalie Merchant helps to give me the words and the emotions she conveys in her music. Despite listening to Natalie Merchant for many years a song has suddenly leapt out at me. I had never heard it before until this last week. During this time I have taken up rehearsing for a play and that has been like an oasis in the desert for me. This song truly has just been the cherry on top, it has just finished and rounded off this experience so well. It truly has been a God song. I will let the song and it's music speak for itself.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0YXLjBYZbnE

"Tell Yourself"

I know what you tell yourself, you tell yourself.
Look in the mirror, look in the mirror what does it show?
I hear you counting
I know you're adding. adding up the score.
I know, oh yes I know what you tell yourself,
Tell yourself.

Ever since Eden we're built for pleasing everyone knows
And ever since Adam cracked his ribs and let us go
I know, oh yes I know what you tell yourself
Tell yourself

Who taught you how to lie so well
And to believe in each and every word you say?
Who told you that nothing about you is alright
It's just no use, it's just no good you'll never be O.K.?

Well I know, I know that wrong's been done to you
"It's such a tough world," that's what you say
Well I know, I know it's easier said than done
But that's enough girl, give it away,
Give it, give it all away

Tell yourself that you're not pretty
Look at you, you're beautiful.
Tell yourself that no one sees
Plain Jane invisible me, just tell yourself

Tell yourself you'll never be
Like the anorexic beauties in the magazines
Just a bargain basement Barbie Doll
No belle du jour, no femme fatale
Just tell yourself

Tell yourself there's nothing worse
Than the pain inside and the way it hurts
But tell yourself it's nothing new
Cause everybody feels it too
They feel it too

And there's just no getting 'round
The fact that you're thirteen right now

My evil mistress. My enticing, leeching, seductive mistress. She cannot let me go nor I her. I may have only learnt who she is recently but she has been there for so long. Lingering in the shadows. Whispering in my inner ear. Holding me from behind.
There is a certain chilling warmth to her. Something akin to a tepid glass of water when thirst strikes hard. You yearn for something cooling, something more refreshing but knowing this is the only refreshment, if you could use that term, within reach.
Life for some is refreshing of itself. For some it is draining but there is a spring of cool refreshing water nearby. Yet for some, such as myself, life leads you out into the desert, sucks you dry and then leaves you there. That is when she strikes. Many times she has sat there patiently, watching and waiting. Just listening and learning; finding the chinks in the armour and the weak spots in all the defenses. They say that "Heaven has no rage like love to hatred turned, Nor hell a fury like a woman scorned," and no truer words could be said of my mistress. I find that after a time of being away from her, enjoying the company of others, enjoying life and living with all the gifts it gives me, she is there awaiting my return. As I rejoin my seclusion I open the door in my mind and she is sat in a room of chaos. Sat at an old table, a glass of ruby red wine in one hand and a slimline cigarette holder in the other. The room is in chaos: smashed plates piled at the edge of the room, shards protruding from the wall above it like shrapnel. Books are strewn across the floor with pages torn and shredded. The few photographs of happy memories are now spread across the table, marked with "lies", "they don't care" "you're just a joke". What few portraits there are of myself have "bastard" "ugly" and "worthless" water marked across them. No item is left untouched, nothing escaped her furious scrutiny. 

The smells then hit; a light touch of the deodorant hidden in the closet. My aunt had bought it for me once but it was the same as the one worn by him. Now the smell brings back waves of emotion; first anger as you remember the immediate pain and turmoil he caused, then anguish as you look back at all the times he had taken advantage and exploited you. This is followed swiftly by a wave of guilt and self hatred as I am reminded of all the times I had been overbearing, nagging and frustrated at his lack of love or care for me. Finally the deep booming hollow pang of loneliness rolls in like a silent thunderstorm. It strikes right in the chest spreading outwards towards my limbs and face. A solitary tear rolls down as I double over, steadily spilling over myself like a slowed down recording of a man shot in the stomach.

"He never really loved you, you know"

She rises slowly and dramatically, pointing at me with her slimline to reinforce her point.

"He never cared. Why would he? What is there about You that could he possibly love or care for? All you do is nag and whinge and annoy. He barely tolerated you and all you're good for is your "hospitality" if you can call it that."

She circles me, her heeled shoes crunching on the broken glass and crockery covering the floor. She gestures with her hand towards the table, wine glass still in hand without spilling a drop. 

"In fact that applies to all of them. You think they are wanting to spend time with you but they don't. You know that deep down in there so lets not pretend. Even whilst you're with them they are laughing at you, you're feeble attempts to be good company."

Her cold hand strokes across my back and she taps her slimline gently as it lingers over my head, covering me with ash.

"Now come along, there is no use in you staying here."

She stands in front of me holding my shoulders between her fag hand and glass of wine. 

"No-one can see in here and you can't possibly show them either. There is no escape now from this. Tomorrow I might let you go and have a good day. Or the day after. Or it may be a week. But don't you ever forget about me, because I am here and I will always be here. Ready to bring you back to this solitary confinement whenever I feel like it."

My shoulder drop some more between her arms. She moves to stand alongside me and pulls me up straight and starts leading me to the table.

"I know you must be tired but we have so much to discuss. Now you remember that time they wouldn't reply to your texts, that is because they don't like you and you aren't worth their time or energy. Believe me I know, look at all this other evidence......"

Another long night begins.

Why did you make me wrong?

So far with this journey of reflection and self learning lots of surprises and emotions have risen to the surface but there is one thing that arose a couple of years ago that really shows the root and depths of my problems. About a year ago I went to a Diocesan Development Day where we had an opportunity to go to some workshops and engage with the topic put forward. One of the workshops was "sexuality". Straight away everyone from my group laughed and we all knew that was the one for me. I went into the workshop expecting to be spoken to about the wide ranges of opinions, theologies, bible verses and history of sexuality. Instead we were taken on a meditation about us and God.
The lady in charge got us all to sit down and we held onto little yellow stretchy men. We held them and used them as the centre of our meditation. We were encouraged to think about ourselves, all our attractions, hurts, dislikes and personality traits. We were then led into a space in our meditation where we took ourselves before God. God who knows us all, inside and out. Best parts and worst parts and loves us and cares for us. God our Father. In my mind I stood naked before God in a throne room. It was cold and barren but not uncomfortably so.
We were then guided into a place where we presented ourselves as who we are before God. Then we were invited to think 'if you could ask God any question what would it be?' I prepared myself to mull it over and consider the questions. Bracing to think "why does bad happen?" "when will I get ordained?" "where do you want me to go next?" "how does the church unite?" instead I burst into silent tears as one question, a hidden question that had been living in me for so many years, came charging forth:

"Why did you make me wrong?".........

Choices, choices, choices......

What makes something a choice? What is choice and what is predisposed? The other day I had a long and somewhat fruitless conversation with a friend regarding predisposition and free will. This was discussed from both the psychological view of it and the theological view of it. Now I say fruitless conversation because there were no measurable or engaging conclusions. There was no discernable information gleaned that would affect us or anyone in the world.
However it did get the mind juices flowing and allow me to reflect on myself a bit more. It appears that God in His infinite wisdom has formed me with several characteristics, predispositions or conditions that are discussed and argued in society as choices or not. The two big ones are sexuality and depression. Weirdly enough I did not choose to be gay, nor did I choose to have depression. Yet there does appear to be a persistent mind set that it is a choice. So when people engage with me with the mind set that these are a choice the conversation doesn't move very easily due to the assumptions that are present. "so when did you choose to be gay?" "can't you just fancy women instead?" "why don't you just cheer up?" "why don't you choose to think happy things and notice the good things instead?". Trust me if I could, I would.
Beyond this there is still choice within all of this. We all have the choice to follow our predispositions or not. However it is incredibly tiring, difficult and sometimes damaging to go against these. For me to deny my sexuality and my feminine tendencies is a major trigger for my depression. I can still choose whether or not to chase after guys, but I can't choose to be attracted to them or the things that come with the territory. With my depression I cant choose when or how strongly my mood will alter or my anxieties will be. But I can choose the activities I do and the people who I surround myself with. So please acknowledge that there is a lot of me that is not a choice so don't assume that it is when we start those conversations. However also please acknowledge that it is a choice that I include you in my conversations and in my life so respect that. I may not have a choice about my sexuality and my depression but you have a choice as to whether or not you're a dick. Please choose wisely.

You just don't get it......

I wish I had a physical illness or condition instead of depression sometimes. I wish I had something that people could see, touch and perceive. I wish that my weaknesses and struggles were bare and visible for all to see. But they are not.

For me depression can sometimes be a cage. Due to its very nature it is self defeating. There are days when I am restricted, limited, lesser abled because of my illness. Those days are so hard because nobody can see my restrictions or limitations. Nor can I tell people about them. The very thought of telling people terrifies me. My mind is telling me "if you tell them you will be annoying them, you're just whinging", "you're pathetic enough as it is, don't give them any more reasons to believe that", "come on, you don't think they're actually going to care about what you're feeling or you at all", "they just don't care". All this noise stops me from being able to tell people that I can't go where they are going, or do what they are doing, so I sink deeper and deeper. That's usually when the questions start. "why can't you just come out?", "you could do it the other day why not today?" "but you're so good with people usually why not now?" "can't you just cheer up?".

All I want to scream is "You just don't get it". It is so hard to explain depression face to face and in words. You can't put feelings; fear, anxiety, anger, frustration, loneliness and relief into words or pictures. There is no word to describe the heart racing, sweating, time slowing, visually interrupting, mind fudging experience of fear. Or the brain fogging, neck tingling, blood chilling, hair pulling experience of anxiety. Or the heart tearing, soul chilling, heart in throat experience of loneliness. Depression is not visual. It is not measurable or tactile. There is no malleability to it, no shared experience or visible expression. I am not asking people to experience this to sympathise. All I ask for is grace and patience. So when I say I can't go somewhere or do something, please please believe me. It may nor be evident to you, the threats, the limitations, the restrictions may not be clear to you but please trust me in this; they are very very very clear to me. So don't be upset when I say "You just dont get it" because I pray you never do.

Look beyond the clouds......

Today is one of the tough days. Today I have been irritable, snappy, frustrated and angry. I've been tired, lethargic and my appetite has gone. I have just wanted to lie down, sleep and never wake up. Today the sea has been choppy and I have struggled to keep afloat. Yet by the Grace of God I have kept afloat. Days like today are some of the harder and more deceptive ones. I feel "normal" but just on the negative side so don't try to focus or handle the symptoms or illness. So in order to help myself today I would like to explain the imagery I use to understand and convey my experiences. Very early on in my diagnosis I discovered that the imagery best used was water based. Some people have the image of a dam and reservoir, with it bursting and all flooding forth. Some have rain and flash floods as their imagery for it. Mine is sea and coastal based.
On my good days the sea is calm, serene and the sun is shining through. There is life in the waters and I can enjoy the day and all it has to offer. I feel that I can do anything and I am moderately focused, making progress in my life and I'm actually enjoying me.
Then there are the "meh" days; days where I am just plodding along. Surviving. The seas at this time aren't choppy but they aren't settled. The skies are overcast and I can't see beyond the clouds. Days like that I barely tolerate myself. I have no worth or value but I am not negative towards myself. Sadly all it takes then is for a little trigger and then I spiral. This is when I slip into the really choppy days. The sky thunders, darkness descends, the boat sinks and I am surrounded and crushed by the waters. That's the mindset I am stuck in and it all stems from the days when I just cannot look beyond the clouds.

Sadly I have been brought up with a very unhealthy attitude towards myself and the main part of my treatment is to change my attitude towards and how I approach myself. One of the big things that I am having to learn to do that I am finding hard but really good when it works is to look beyond the clouds. When I reach the days where the clouds are gathering, all those negative thoughts and anxieties, I need to look up to God and see the light shining through. Look away from the self hatred, negative self imagery and the belief that people "tolerate" or "put up" with me and instead look towards the light. The fact that I am loved, I am treasured and I am accepted as I am. The other day we were in worship and suddenly a line stood out amongst the lyrics that challenged how I approached myself. "Take me as I am, I can come no other way". As I approach the heavenly throne room and as I approach friends, family and strangers I can only approach them as myself. It is down to them  how I am received and I am accepted. Yet I am blessed in the knowledge that as I approach God He loves me just unconditionally, wholly and infinitely. I just need to move that knowledge to my heart, and look beyond the clouds.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LO36F--Vn1g

Diagnosis: The D Word

So it's been over two years since I blogged apparently. Sadly life happened and got in the way but now I hope to be back and doing this. Blogging helps me concentrate my thoughts coherently and in a manner that I can go back and edit so that I can make mistakes as I go along. Which I need right now as I have just been diagnosed a couple of weeks ago with severe depression. As one of my friends pointed out today, I don't do anything by halves. Of course it has to be severe depression. Sadly I seem to be displaying most of the symptoms, which include forgetfulness, weariness, mood swings and irrational anxieties. That is the reason why I'm back blogging. As I said this helps me concentrate my thoughts and get them out in a coherent manner. Something I am finding very hard due to my mental illness (that's hard for me to admit but I will elaborate later). Also it is calming and relaxing so doesn't contribute to my weariness. Additionally it helps to ground me and remind me of the positives and gives me a record of all the good things. This helps to combat my mood swings. Finally I just really enjoy it. There doesn't seem to be a combat to my irrational anxieties yet because they are irrational. My logical side tells me very strongly that they are and I know that they are, but that does not stop me from feeling them.

Anyway today I want to start delving into my experience of the D word so far and with that word is where I shall start. Depression to me has been split into two meanings. There is the first one: somebody feels down and is feeling a bit glum today so they are a bit depressed. Everybody experiences it and uses the term, it is a part of daily life. However we know it's not the diagnosed medical depression it is just a low mood.
Then there is the second term: the horrifying mental illness that cripples a person and prevents them from functioning until medication alters their mind and they can get out of their deep dark black hole and join the rest of civilization in the real world. How my understanding was so wrong. However that is to some extent how I am feeling. That I have been officially diagnosed with a mental illness so I am now no longer a functioning, civilized being that contributes to the world. When I first left the doctors I got in my car and burst into tears. As far as I am/was concerned I have/had failed. I've let my family down because I couldn't stay strong, I had failed my friends because I couldn't stay positive and support them and I had let myself down because I couldn't stay true to me. The reason i say "am/was" is because at first the feeling was overwhelming and flooded inside of me but has become a lot less, yet still lingers in my mind ever so slightly.. I was drowning in it at first, desperately trying to keep my head above water and see light. Then I texted a friend. I explained how I felt and he responded in a most loving and caring manner. He told me I hadn't failed anyone and I would have only failed myself if I hadn't have gone.

Being diagnosed with depression has been possibly the most shaking event of my life to date. The reason being is that it has completely changed my perception of myself and why I do things. Have I been behaving oddly because I'm depressed or because I'm me? How long has this been going on for? Which were my bad days because of my depression and which ones are the ones that caused it? Were there things that caused it or is it purely hereditary? When does my personality and behaviour stop being me and are actually due to my illness? When will it end? Will it end? All this in less than 12 hours of diagnosis came flooding through my head.

Weirdly the step that I perceived as my biggest failure, my step into the doctors and being diagnosed with depression, everyone else has perceived as a great success, as a victory. Today I went along to youth group and it was a really big struggle but I did it. Part way through I went and had a chat with Gina, my vicar, and I burst into tears and told her about the diagnosis and my condition. She said that today was a victory and that I should celebrate it. I immediately felt frustration and joy. My frustration stems from the fact that tasks that seemed so normal, so mundane, in my everyday life have become difficult and sometimes scary. Yet joy because she was right. I had a small victory. Even before medication and any form of therapy I have faced my fears and won. This is the bit where it gets Goddy and it stays true to me and who I am. Suddenly I have reason, although it may be stemming from a distressing place, to celebrate the little things and the small things. The Daily Breads. They have suddenly turned into massive challenges and massive victories. Making small chat with a cashier, a big victory. Using the phone at work, a massive victory. Honestly telling people how I am feeling today, a massive victory. In all of this there is one saying that rings through and helps me to stand: In our weakness He is strong. All of a sudden when I say the Lords prayer I will be saying "give us today our daily bread" with a lot more feeling than before. Give us today our Daily Bread, give us today our victory.