Only Half Over...

We’re all only half over. Whether we’re young or old, just starting out, or already successful, none of us is finished. There’s more we can do, more we can be.

In life, it’s sometimes hard to see the good that could come. A day starts badly and it’s easy to give up on the rest of it: ‘It’s going to be one of those days.’

We might not be able to imagine that a humble beginning, the first words on a page, could ever take us anywhere spectacular but, you never know.

If success comes – we get the job, or our painting, novel, or album, hits the big time – it’s easy to stop there. We’ve made it. But, now what? Turn on the news: the world still needs us to be at the top of our game.

Or, we might look back on life and see a bright young future that never quite blossomed. Or maybe we’ve let someone down, or feel a failure in our own eyes. We might be at the edge of our world, ready to fall, the bridges on our way home seem burned. It’s not too late.

In the darkest times, when we’ve been left, lonely and without answers, living feels like a torment and time drags on: ‘When will it end?’ Keep breathing, even if it’s all you can do. It’s a start.

No matter what has gone before, the mistakes we’ve made, or the roads we’ve taken, there’s still time to change. We can change ourselves; we can change our reactions to the things we see. We can change our future.

Only Half Over is a new collection of songs that are best of my work so far. Some of the songs are old and updated as, over the years, I’ve realised they themselves were only half over. Yet, while this album is a ‘best of’, some of the songs are new: my ‘career’ is equally only half over – there’s more to come.

And maybe somewhere, either in the lines or between them, there’ll be something to help you get back out there. We could still win. It's only half over.

The new album - Only Half Over - by Martin Flett. Out 06/03/2016

How to be a success.

Is this all success is?

Success is elusive. It can be really difficult to achieve, particularly if by ‘success’ we mean writing a best-seller, earning a fortune, or having loads of people queuing for our autograph.

I confess I felt a pang of envy when I saw a line of people snaking through a shopping centre recently, all waiting for a book-signing at a nearby store.

I haven't yet considered my novel to be a success because I haven’t found an agent or publisher or sold many copies. And, by that yardstick, I may never be ‘successful’, which might be a bit depressing.

But success can take many forms. I can consider it a success I even finished the bleedin’ book at all, seen as I was working on it for four years among all sorts of other life events. And it’s a success it’s available for the world to buy, even if it is only on Kindle at the moment.

I think the modern world throws us so many ideas of what success looks like, and they’re not all helpful. Particularly in a world skewed towards helping those who have already reached that financial/popularity kind of ‘success’. (Publishers only accepting submissions from known contacts/bookstores only stocking books from established authors/marketing difficult to come by unless you've produced a best-seller already…)

It’s tempting to judge ourselves by that standard. It is, after all, quite tangible, and can bring a desirable level of comfort. (I have another blog-post in the pipeline about comfort and happiness, so let this sentence serve as my little ‘teaser-trailer’!) But we can be different; we can judge ourselves a success by meeting our goals, by completing our part of the bargain, by doing the best we can.

It might not bring the recognition of ‘the world’ but, ultimately, when the day is done, the lights go out and you’re lying alone with your thoughts, the only person you really have to answer to is … you. And if you’ve managed to be ‘successful’ in the work you had before you that day, then you can probably sleep a whole lot easier.

Because that’s all we can do: our work. It’s not up to me whether an agent picks up my book, it’s not up to me whether people buy it (did I mention it’s available on Kindle…? ;) ), but it is up to me  to complete my job, the writing, to the best of my ability.

If I’ve done that, then I’ve been a success.

Being crazy.

‘I always thought a man should have a dream, to dig himself out when he hit the floor.’ 

– Martyn Joseph, 'People Crazy As Me'.

People Crazy As Me - Martyn Joseph

In my darkest times, one thing has helped me to pull myself up again: my dreams. There are a few things I want to do before I die and, if I give in, cash in my chips, call it a day, those dreams will never get done.

But what happens if you try to achieve your dream, and fail? Or, what if you achieve it and it’s not enough?

I wanted to write a novel. It was my big ‘goal’ and I’ve done it. But I guess I was kidding myself: it turns out my real goal was to be a paid writer and, in that, I’ve failed. My novel has been rejected by pretty much every agent I could find to send it to over the course of the last eight months. I’ve received praise from colleagues for my work but there’s no hope, really, that it will ever find its way to the printing press.

It’s a bigger disappointment than I thought it would be and, coupled with the disappointment of still not being able to move back to my 'home', it's tough to take.

Martyn Joseph sings a song I’ve turned to in the past: ‘People Crazy As Me.’ Its opening line is what I felt in those dark times. As I listen to the song again now, I hear a message of a better way to live, a way to make this world better, and it’s not rocket science; it’s a simple message anyone can live.

I need to adjust my goals, again, and there’s a danger I’ll have to reduce them, to minimize them until they’re no longer recognisable as my dreams anymore, just to make them achievable.

But Mr Joseph never says the dream has to be attainable. (In any case, I’m still breathing; the dream isn’t unattainable yet.) I think of another song: ‘Dignity’ by Deacon Blue (I'll warn you now, it's quite '80s!) or, indeed, one I wrote myself: ‘I Want To Be An Astronaut’.

In recent years, I’ve often said I want to make this world a better place, to improve each moment, even if it’s only in some small way. I think I need to get back to that somehow: to write stories just because someone, somewhere, might enjoy it; to sing songs and record albums just because one person might find some hope or entertainment in the lyrics. To live each moment to the best of my ability so others might benefit from my talents, whether in writing, administration, or just through a listening ear.

And, sometimes, I see people as crazy as me.

I wonder if you’re one of them…?

What if...?

One of the key questions an author asks when writing a story is: ‘What if…?’ What if our hero met someone in a bar? What if they got lost on the way home? What if they found a treasure? Or, if we’re particularly short of ideas, what if ninjas burst through the wall?

In life, I ask the same question and, having finished my novel, I’ve been considering it from both sides: what if I am successful in my quest to find an agent/publisher? And, what if I’m not?

One time, I wrote a song, just after I’d finished recording an album:

Welcome by Martin Flett

Basically, I was tired, and on the way down from the completing-a-project buzz. I had no new material left and the last thing I wanted to do was to face writing a whole new album, to start from scratch, when I hadn’t been that successful with my previous effort.

But, I wrote the song, and my next album, Becoming Human, was born which, incidentally, remains my best musical work so far.

It is difficult facing the ‘what if not…’ question: the answer can seem to be that we’d have to give up on whatever ultimate ambition we have. For me, it might mean I can never earn my living as an author and will have to settle for writing for fun, alongside whatever average admin job I can find.

But, if we pick up the tools again and make the first step towards our next project, then the dream isn’t lost. It may merely be over the next mountain. If your dream is really worth it, then you’ll make that climb.

And, you never know: what if the second one is the best…?

Achieving life's goals.

Two years ago, I wrote this about some of the things I wanted to do in my life.

Re-reading it now, I’m pleased to see I’ve succeeded in a couple: I visited Findochty, and I’ve finished my first novel. Unfortunately I haven’t yet learned to play Johnny B. Goode Marty McFly style and I may have to accept I will never achieve this one.

Finishing my novel gave me a weird feeling: I’ve done something I’ve wanted to do for years. Now, it’s complete, on the page, out of my head and in the world. It’s finished. It feels good. 

But it brought to mind a question: what do you do when you’ve achieved your life’s ambition?

The answer is, of course, make a new one. Find something else to work towards. For example, I'm glad, even two years ago, I included ‘write another novel’ on my list of things to do. The best ambitions don’t end, they grow.

I’m proud of finishing my novel; I’ll be even more proud if I get it published. And prouder still if I end up with a whole shelf of my own in the local Waterstones.

Whatever you’re working on, keep at it. Achieving a goal is worth the time and hard work it takes. And, when you’ve done it, you’ll find a whole kaleidoscope of new ambitions and opportunities appear over the horizon.

Bring it on.

Reasons for creativity: are we 'adding to the noise'?

It’s been a year since I last posted on my blog. I stopped writing it because, firstly, I wanted to prioritise my novel (which I’ve now finished!) and, secondly, I became aware of the sheer volume of ‘stuff’ that is posted online. What made me think I had anything to add worth reading?

There’s a song I like by Switchfoot:

'Adding to the noise' - Switchfoot

I look at various social media sites and see a constant stream of, mostly banal, posts (no offence intended to anyone in particular!) and wonder: why should I add to it? What makes my musings more worthy of airtime than those of anyone else?

Eventually, I’ve realised it depends on why you’re writing/posting – or indeed doing anything else creative. If you’re doing it because you want to, because you feel you have something to offer that might be of benefit to the world then, great. But if you’re doing it because you want attention, and your work is screaming: ‘Look at me! Look at me!’ then maybe you shouldn’t be doing it at all.

Don’t get me wrong, I love it when my blog-views go up, or when people comment on or share my work. My ego gets a boost and I feel validated, of course I do. But it can’t become the reason for writing, otherwise I’m just selling out.

So, I’m back. Because I like writing on here, and because I think I have something worth saying.

If you disagree and it’s just more ‘noise’ to you then, please, turn off this blog…

When 'thank you' seem to be the hardest words...

I once read that ‘thank you’ is a perfectly acceptable response to most compliments.  I try to follow the rule myself, though it’s hard as someone who is naturally inclined towards self-deprecation.

We all know how irritating it can be when someone constantly refuses to accept our compliments: the girl who won’t accept someone thinks she’s beautiful; the guy who refuses to let us congratulate him on playing guitar well.  Yet, I’ve never really thought about why it’s irritating, until now…

People sometimes compliment my writing, and it always surprises me.  It’s not that I don’t believe I’m any good, it’s more that I don’t expect other people to agree with me (or to even read my stuff!)  When someone tells me I write well, I’m therefore tempted to tell them I’m not really that good.

But that’s quite disrespectful to the other person.  I’d basically be saying I know better than them, which is odd, given my self-deprecating leanings.  Or I’d be calling them a liar, or a sycophant, believing they’re telling me what I want to hear, not what they really think. (Though I would probably dress it up in my mind as ‘they’re just being polite.’)

 So, instead, I pause for a second, allowing my brain to process the fact this person may actually like what I write, and then I thank them. 

Even if they’re wrong, and my writing is terrible, they are still entitled to their opinion and I am grateful it’s a positive one.

Next time someone pays you a compliment, accept it graciously.  They might just be telling the truth.

(Liz Mosley, if you’re reading this, thank you!  Your compliment last weekend inspired this post.)

Climbing a mountain.

Climbing a mountain is tough.
Don't be too hard on yourself if it takes a while.

Writing a novel, for me, sometimes feels like the ultimate challenge: it’s climbing Everest; it’s running a marathon; it’s the Iron Man Triathlon. 

It’s a ‘one man against the elements’ kind of thing.  When I’m at my computer, there’s nothing but my own skill and determination to fight on through, to carry on, to make it to the end.  And it’s tough, make no mistake: novels are long, and the task needs due respect and consideration if you’re going to make it.

You wouldn’t turn up at the start line for the London Marathon with no preparation, or expect to finish it in half an hour.  If you go with that mentality, it will punish you. 

Nanowrimo annoys me for this reason: to sell the idea that someone can produce a piece of work worth anything in a month is deceitful, at best.  Besides, the 50,000 words required by Nanowrimo is not novel-length, by my reckoning.  (For example, The Curious Incident of The Dog in the Night-Time (Haddon, 2003) weighs in at 71,000 words, and that’s not all that long.)

Although, I admit, perhaps it’s people actually sitting down and finishing something in a month that annoys me, whilst I’ve been working on the same project for close to three years.

I work in Higher Education these days, with students producing theses of 80,000 words.  That’s more like it.  They have 3-4 years to produce this work, with a lot of support from supervisors and fellow students.  Writers like me, on the other hand, are producing that amount of work alone. 

Be proud of being a novel writer, even if you never get anything published.  Not every marathon runner gets a medal, but those who finish achieve something most only dream of.

Keep writing.

The secret to doing everything you ever wanted to do...

Many things can deflect us from getting
where we want to be.

A friend of mine posted an article on Facebook recently about a method of getting up early in the morning by not thinking about it, but just doing it.  The article is here. 

I've been mulling it over and started thinking that most things are only difficult to do when we stop to consider the alternatives.  Like staying in bed rather than getting up, or watching a movie, rather than working on that creative project.

The moment we stop to think about it, we can come up with a dozen other things we could do, most of which might be easier or preferable to the thing we really should do.

But, if we stop even allowing ourselves to think of alternatives and just do the thing we are meant to do, then we’re probably more likely to get it done.  Which really goes without saying.

I’m re-reading a book at the moment: The War of Art by Steven Pressfield.  He talks a lot about Resistance and the different guises it takes to prevent us from doing the thing we ought to be doing.  He says that, as a result of giving in to ‘Resistance’, we end up feeling 'like hell': deep down ,we know we’re not doing what we’re born to do, and we become restless, seeking many ways of distracting ourselves: TV; music; games; sex.

But Pressfield, with great insight, writes: ‘We will never cure our restlessness by contributing our disposable income to the bottom line of Bullshit, Inc., but only by doing our work.’ (Pressfield, 2002, The War of Art.)

If we want to write a novel, there is no five-point quick fix method.  The only way is to write a novel.

If we want to get up early and go for a run, hitting snooze and staying bed won’t help.  The only way is to get up and go for a run.

The secret, then, to doing anything and everything we want to do is...to do it.

I’m trying to learn (note the tentative nature of this statement!) to block out the alternatives to ‘doing the work’; they will never serve to assist me with the projects I so desperately want to complete.

Don’t think, do. 

It sounds like something Yoda would say.

How do you have fun?

Life can sometimes be work, work, work.

Fun doesn’t seem to feature in my life much.  I don’t really have time/money.

And I’m not sure this is a good thing.

I think having fun is important, I just find it hard.  When I use time on something meaningless, such as Football Manager, I consider it time wasted and feel guilty: I should have been writing.

The truth is, I’ve never really known what I enjoy.  My mother used to ask me: ‘Is there anything you do like?!’ after I had declared I didn’t like yet another activity: playing football, swimming, and youth groups, to name but a few.

Of course, there are things I do in my spare time: reading, playing music, or watching films, for example.  But I question whether I actually ‘enjoy’ them: are they fun?  Or do I do them to pass the time while I’m on the tram, or eating, or too tired lazy to write?

As I’ve grown older, I’ve learned what I want to do: writing.  And I’ve found I can write and perform songs as a side-line.  But I don’t do them for fun.  In fact, when I sit down to write, it feels like far harder work than the time I sit at my desk 9-5. 

And having sat at said desk all day/week, which is itself particularly unenjoyable, it’s then difficult to  do the hard writing, even though I ‘want’ to do it.

In fact, it leads to great frustration: knowing I could do my writing, if only I didn’t first have to tire myself out in a day job in order to pay the bills etc.

Apologies.  I don’t mean to whine.

I think we all need time for relaxation, and fun.   If you’re like me, I recommend trying to allow yourself to have fun from time to time.  And maybe I’ll make it a belated New Year’s Resolution.

I could even schedule it in, and then it might feel like a work activity...

Making the most of the year to come.

‘A goal without a plan is just a wish.’
– Antoine de Saint-Exupery, French writer.

I love the start of a new year: it's a good chance to look back, take stock, and look to what we want the next 12 months to bring.  While I understand some people saying: ‘It’s just another day, you can make a fresh start anytime,’ I still think it’s a particularly easy time to do it.

For a few years I’ve promised I would finish my novel, yet still it goes on.

This year, I’m making plans: I’ve already written a workable schedule for my novel, and also for my non-fiction project.  And, I’m trimming out things I can live without, or distract me from my ambition.

I’ve spent much time in my life on things I’m not going to be proud of on my death-bed: Football Manager; late-morning lie-ins; re-watching movies I’ve seen time and again.  I’m not saying I will cut these out entirely, but they need to be in their place, not in place of my life’s goals.

Don Miller wrote recently about why New Year’s Resolutions often end in disappointment, and how to make ones that will stick.  You can read his blog-post here.  Basically, it’s about setting an exciting challenge, rather than a woolly dream, and then making a plan to achieve it.

Whatever you want to do in your life – whether it’s write a novel, record an album, design a fashion range, or settle down in a nice home – put the wheels in motion today, or at least start laying the tracks.  Make a plan; order an instrument; create space for a design-table; budget your finances and start saving.

Every year that goes by without achieving our aims is another year wasted. 

Life is finite. 

There’s no time to lose.

The infinity of writing a book. (Or, ‘How to complete great tasks.’)

Sometimes the end of the writing process
can feel very far away.

Since finishing my album, I've turned my attention to my writing.

I'm pretty proud of myself for this, because it's what I said I would do, and also because I find it harder to stay focused on: writing a book is a long process, it's difficult to see the end and I’m easily distracted along the way.  Recording an album feels very finite in comparison – the end is almost tangible, so I strive all the more for it.

Some of this 'finiteness' comes from experience: I've recorded albums, I know how much work they are, and how long they take, so I give myself appropriate time scales to complete them.

For example, I know it would be foolish for me to advertise that my next album will be out next year when I haven't even started writing any new material.

To overcome the 'infinity' of writing a book, I have started to set myself achievable goals.  I think this is how to approach any large, or scary, task: break it down into smaller tasks you know you can achieve. 

Moving house?  Don't think about that, think about packing a box – you know you can do that, you've no doubt done it before – then pack another one.  Slowly, your whole house will be packed away and you'll be ready to move.

Writing a book?  Don't think about that, think about writing 1,000 words (or if that's too many, 100) – you know you can do that, you've done it before.  Then start thinking about the next 1,000 (or 100).

Don't be hard on yourself, expecting to finish your great novel in 6 months.  Give yourself time – it doesn't matter how long it takes, really – perhaps it will take longer than you realised (I know my album did!).

But eventually, through completing your achievable, non-scary, finite goals, the book will take shape, almost of its own accord.  

At least, that's what I'm hoping.

Love: an introduction

Love: it’s all around; it’s all you need; it will tear us apart.

In life there are many things we love: families, girlfriends/boyfriends, events, pets, pastimes...

‘I love it!’ we cry. 

And often we do – cry – because of love.

Love can sneak up on us, lift us higher than we’ve ever been before – or maybe ever will again – and bring us joy unimaginable.  And sometimes we can fall from those heights to equal – or perhaps even greater – depths, just as quickly as we fell ‘in love’.

But what is life without love?  This time of ours, marked out by birthday milestones – 30 years can pass by in a flash, and we bear the scars of loves found, lost...papered over.

Love can be unrequited (is there anything more painful?) or rejected; it can be risky and reckless, or perhaps real and rooted.

Love can lead us to so much: a new relationship, a new passion, a life of companionship, or a cherished memory.  A ‘labour of love’ could lead to a PhD, a novel, or even a new album.

You never know what the future might bring if we just ‘love’.

(My new album: 'Love?' is out this Saturday, 15th December 2012.  Check it out @ www.martinflett.net.  But don't worry, I'll post about it again next week to remind you!)

When you get to 80 years old, what do you want to have done in your life?

I don’t equate my life with my work. 

I recently had the (mis)fortune to overhear a conversation in which a girl was complaining about her colleague.  The colleague had said: ‘Work is not my life,’ having booked time off at Christmas.  The girl had responded incredulously, not understanding how he could think that when work enables the payment of rent, food and other necessities. 

Whilst the girl had a point, she misunderstood the point.   Her colleague wanted time off to see his family, and enjoy Christmas; that is where his ‘life’ is.  I feel very sorry, really, for people who don’t have a life outside of work.  If all we’re living for is to go to work and pay the bills, that seems soulless to me.  (I think, ultimately, the girl was simply bitter because she hadn’t been able to get time off, but that’s not really relevant.)

I think we all need something to live for – some purpose that keeps us going.  In my lowest times, one of the things I focus on is my desire to write at least one novel in my life.  It helps me to ‘keep on keeping on’, as they say.

I gave up a job about a month ago, even though I had a lot of fun there and it was (sort of) related to the career in Communications I think I’d like.  But it was too stressful: I didn’t have the energy to work on things I consider to be my ‘life’.  

Since starting my new, purely administrative role, my days are less fun, admittedly, but I am not coming home stressed and depressed, too tired to work on my dreams.  The reason my blog has been quiet, for example, is because I’m finishing off my album and I’ve been making progress on my non-fiction book.

If you want to do the things you really want to do in your life, but can’t seem to find the time or energy , maybe it’s time to consider changing something so you don’t get to 80 years old, filled with regret about the things you’ll wish you’d done.

Creating for the sake of creating.

I almost had a blog-post written tonight, but I decided it wasn't good enough.  (Ironic, really, considering it was about being creative for the sake of it, and not because others will like it...)

Instead, here's something I said to a writer-friend of mine the other day:

'Write because you have something you want to say, 

not because people might or might not read it.' 

- Martin Flett

Be creative, in whatever way you want to be; don't worry about what other people will think of your work. 

And anyway, if you create in order to please others, wouldn't that be selling out?  

I know I don't want to do that.

Who are we when we're online?

Is who we appear to be on the various social networks who we actually are?  Or do you, like me, try to appear to be cooler/deeper/funnier?

I spend an inordinate amount of time worrying about what I do and don’t say online. 

I always try to say things ‘on message’ – stuff about being the best we can be, about being creative, and being positive.  I feel as though I have my own ‘brand' and I don’t want to let it down by posting something too personal, or too negative. 

I even worry about how things might appear to a prospective publisher in the future: will my website put them off?  What about my music?  Does it show I’m too unfocused, dabbling in too many media?  And what of this blog?  Would they think I was putting too much of myself ‘out there’, displaying too many weaknesses, or talking about things a fiction-writer has no business commenting on?

Every Facebook status or Tweet is deliberated over, and I have deleted within minutes many posts that, in hindsight, I feel are not appropriate for the person I want to appear to be.

And that’s the point: I (and I suspect I am not alone) project a particular persona online and this even spills over into ‘real life’ as well

Some people say we should be authentic and not hide our ‘true selves’; people who matter will accept us as we are and those that don’t aren’t worth it. 

But I’m not in that school of thought.  I believe it’s okay to want to be different, to want to be ‘better’.  And I believe the best way to become what you want to be is to start acting like that until it becomes natural. 

Don't get me wrong, I don’t think anyone should be coerced into being different; if you’re happy with who you are then crack on and be it. 

Otherwise, be the person you want to be.  Twitter and Facebook might be a small start...

What’s getting in the way of your life’s goals?

Life is full of things we can do.  I often feel like I have too many things I want to do!  There just isn’t enough time.

Recently, I cancelled my TV licence.  People are often surprised to hear I don’t watch much television, but I don’t.  I honestly don’t know how people have time to keep up with soap operas, or The X Factor, or Strictly.  There are too many other things to do: I’ve got an album to record, this blog to write, Bambi and The Chopper to work on, my novel and a non-fiction project to do.  My Open Uni course will start again soon, too.

And that’s all without even mentioning recreation: games, reading, or cinema trips.  TV doesn’t really get a look-in so I’ll save myself £13 a month, thank you very much.

I’m not saying TV is bad, or other things we may enjoy, such as the X-Box/Playstation/baking/whatever – it’s good to have down-time sometimes and, if TV is your thing, fine.  But if it’s getting in the way of your life’s goals, then it’s time to re-think.

I’ve said before: All those things you want to do with your life?  They’ll never get done unless you actually do them.

I read a fantastic blog-post today by Don Miller about ‘Being your own President’ and making a plan for your life, rather than letting someone else decide how it’s going to turn out.  It has re-motivated me to continue with the things I want to achieve.

I really encourage you to do the same.  Who knows?  Maybe it’s even time to cancel that TV licence...

What makes you feel most like ‘yourself’?

'My' tools.

I think there are things we do that we feel are inherently ‘us’.   For me, it’s things like creating music, or writing stories.

Sometimes, I don’t do these things for a while; I might be busy or, more likely, become distracted by games/movies/whatever and so don’t do those things that make me feel like myself.

It can actually make me feel low, without me necessarily realising why I’m low.  Then, suddenly, one day I’ll switch on my PC, open up Cubase, and work on my album.  And I start to remember a part of myself; it’s like a reawakening of something inside me, and it spills over to the rest of my life – my relationships, my work.  I feel like I’ve remembered who I am, why I’m here, what I want to be/do in my life, and things sort of click back into place a little.  It’s almost like a reset button.

Without doing what I’m ‘built’ to do, I’m less than me.*  There’s a part of me that’s restless, dissatisfied, unfulfilled.

I don’t create music because it’s my job, or because it could make me money, or because I might get recognition and affirmation for it.  I make music because I enjoy the process and get a real kick out of having created something from scratch that would never have existed if it wasn’t for me.  Something from inside me is now out there, apart from me.  I’ve said before it must be, to a small extent, how a parent feels about their new born baby.

I firmly believe, as human beings, we’re all creative, as I’ve mentioned before in this blog.  I think a key to being ‘well’, or being the best we can be, is finding out what it is we can create, and doing it with everything we can give.

I think it’s the best way of being truly ‘ourselves’.

*Whether or not we believe we’re designed, I still feel we each have innate qualities and talents that make us who we are.

Knowing your limits.

Not everyone can do this...

We all have limitations, no matter how talented or skilled we are.  And, while it’s good to push those limits, to stretch ourselves beyond what we can already do and improve, sometimes it’s important to know there are things we can’t do and should probably leave alone for the good of our health.

I’m talking mainly about mental well-being.  I know that, for me, recently I’ve had to accept that there are certain things I just can’t do; my mind could not cope with the stress or responsibility of a manager’s job, for example. 

This might sound pretty negative but I personally think it’s a good thing – if we know we can’t do something then, rather than forcing ourselves and making ourselves poorly, it’s probably better to do something else and have a better quality of life.

Continuing with work as an example, accepting a job less challenging or more mundane might seem like a sacrifice – we’ll probably end up bored and possibly unmotivated as a result.  However, we (or certainly ‘I’) might have the mental capacity to ‘be’ better outside of work, to give more to our loved ones and our hobbies – in other words, the things that make us happy.

Of course, some people find happiness in their work, and I envy them but I’m just not one of them, not until I’m a published author anyway!  And, the most likely way of that (or any other dream we may have) happening is by having the health/capacity to work towards it.

 In the long run, that ‘sacrifice’ might be worthwhile.

Hitting 'rock bottom'...

I haven’t posted for a while, because I haven’t known what to write.  I’ve written a couple of posts, but not uploaded them, mainly because I haven’t known how I would feel the following day and didn’t want to say anything I might not agree with later.

Life has been very hard lately, and I’ve been more ‘down’ than perhaps ever before.  One thing after another, after another hit me; just when I thought I’d hit the bottom it was as though another, unseen trapdoor opened up and I plummeted further down still. 

As Rachel said in Friends: ‘I really thought I just hit rock bottom.  But today, it's like there's rock bottom, then 50 feet of crap, then me.’ (Friends, Series 2, Warner Bros, 1995)

Suffering from Depression makes life’s difficulties that much harder.  Such a mind is weak to begin with so, when a trauma strikes – whether that’s something like my redundancy last year, or work-related stress, or the loss of a relationship – it hits all the harder.  And when more than one big event comes along at once, the mind cannot cope.

Which is how I find myself here.

I’ve investigated suicide sites; I’ve cried until I had no more tears, or gave myself a headache; I’ve slept (or tried to) for more time than is probably healthy.  But, somewhere along the line, I decided I wanted to finish my novel.  I’m taking little pleasure in it, and finishing it probably won’t make me happy either, but I do want to finish it.  So, word by word, sentence by sentence, I’m writing it.

The other thing I can say is that time does help.  I saw my GP today and we agreed that I am better than two weeks ago when I sat crying in her office, even though it might not feel like I’m better right now.  And I'm getting the help I need with increased medication and referrals for pretty much every talking-therapy there is.

Going right back to basics is the only way to survive, I think.  Basics such as: ‘What am I living for?’  Finding things to live for is easy: my writing, my music, things in the future I don’t yet know about.  Finding things I want to live for is harder.  But I’m trying to work on that part...and we’ll see what happens.

Thanks for reading.  It’s not my usual, positive, optimistic style, I know.  But then life doesn’t always have things to be positive and optimistic about...