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.

How much does where we live affect our mood?

I love this place.
(It's not Nottingham, as you may gather!)

I don’t like the town I live in.  In fact, of all the places I've ever been, it’s in the top three of those I don’t like.

Firstly, I never feel either myself or my possessions are safe here.  Secondly, there are only two venues I’ve been to I genuinely like.  Thirdly, everywhere is far away: I deliberately chose to live on the tram route here, yet it still takes me at least 45 minutes to get anywhere worth going.  Therefore, I can rarely be bothered to go out.  (Okay, admittedly I may have been spoiled by the ‘Everywhere is ten minutes walk’ scenario in my previous town, but still.)

All this (aside from being a good excuse for me to have a rant) got me thinking: how much is our mood affected by where we live?  I think probably quite a lot.

Granted, some of it is down to whether we have  friends nearby or a job we enjoy, but I’m pretty sure I’d be happier in my current situation if only it was in a place I liked more (such as Leamington, just as a random example.  It’s not as though it’s my favourite place on Earth or anything, no, not at all.)

I find my mood is generally more ‘down’ in this town.  (Hey, that rhymes!  I might use that sometime...) I know there are times when my mood has been lower because of some life-trauma or significant change, but I mean my ‘status quo’ mood is lower here than in...let’s say Leamington again.  Which isn’t good.

For me, this might mean seriously looking at moving elsewhere eventually, and it might mean that for others out there too.  In any case, I thought it was worth mentioning because I don’t know if ‘place of residence’ ever figures much in our (or at least my) thinking around Depression or mood.

It’d be interesting to see some statistics on depressive illnesses and geographical locations to see if there are towns that are literally more depressing.

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.

Dating and who we really are.

I love this list. I know it's a bit small,
but hopefully you can click it and zoom in?!

Every so often I get to iron my best shirt, have a second shower of the day, put on some cologne, do my hair (or what’s left of it), and take some poor, unsuspecting lucky girl out for dinner.

I reckon I’m pretty good at the whole ‘first date’ thing.  The logistics are simple enough: book a nice (non-chain, naturally) restaurant, make sure you have enough cash to pay the bill, show up on time, etc. 

And then comes the date itself: assuming we’re not hermits, by the time we reach adulthood we have plenty of life-history to talk through – how could we possibly struggle to find things to say?  There are family holidays, or maybe time spent studying, or career choices, or future hopes and dreams – plenty of questions to ask and topics to bring up.  I’m not saying sit there like some quiz show host, firing off questions, but pick some that will start a conversation.  Generally, I believe people will like someone who lets them talk about themselves.

But, alas, in spite of all my confidence at the first date stage, my relationships have, thus far, not lasted.  And that’s because life is not one continual first date.

A date takes considerable effort and energy, and I tend to fall in to the trap of trying to keep up that level of intensity for weeks...months...even years.  Inevitably, it’s going to fail.  I’m going to get tired and the ‘perfection’ will crash and burn. 

I think this links with being uncomfortable about showing someone our real selves.  On a first date, we want to make a good/perfect impression; we want them to think we’re amazing.  And that’s achievable – for one night.  However, we can’t be ‘perfect’ forever; the real ‘us’ needs to be good enough too.

And in order for it to be good enough for someone else, it has to be good enough for ourselves.  Otherwise we’ll never be willing to show it, and never get out of the cycle of trying to be perfect. 

Someone suggested once I may even sabotage my relationships myself from the inside.  I don’t know whether it’s true but, if it is, it could be because I can’t deal with the prospect of not being ‘perfect’.  As I say, I don’t know.

Accepting who we are and that we do have some very good traits, worth putting up with the not-so-great ones for, is a really healthy state of mind, I think.  Let’s try and work towards it. 

Then I/we might be able to stop continually trying so hard with everyone I/we meet.

'Something's bound to change.'

There’s a song I like at the moment: Clouds by Newton Faulkner.

The line: ‘Something’s bound to change’ struck me in a new way the other day.  I considered the meaning of the word ‘bound’ and wondered if it could mean ‘bound’ in the way something is bound by a rope: tied up, unable to escape. 

It occurred to me that’s what life is like: ‘bound’ to change.  We live in a constant state of flux; nothing stays the same for long, we’re tied to things changing.

'Stop looking down at the ground,
 just pick it out of the clouds.'
– Newton Faulkner

It’s no secret I’ve been having a tough time in recent months and perhaps that’s why these words resonated.  A few weeks ago I couldn’t imagine things might change for the better – ever – but, of course, they have.  As I said: nothing stays the same for long.  I’m back at work, my mood’s improved, and I’m picking up my projects/social life again.

As a good friend always reminds me when I’m struggling: ‘This too shall pass’.

It’s a good thing to remember: things do change.  Even though, sometimes, we can’t see or conceive what might change, we can be pretty sure that something will.  It’s bound to. 

Next time life feels like it’s at rock bottom, knowing it’s felt that way before and things did improve might just help in the struggle to keep going until that ‘change’ happens.

It might even be as soon as a couple of weeks away.  You never know.

Living alone and remembering small achievements.

I’ve been slowly trying to think more positively* over the last week or so, and something struck me about being someone who lives alone.

A few years ago I realised the obvious: all the jobs in my house – washing up, laundry, vacuuming etc – if I don’t do them, they don’t get done.  On one hand, that’s clearly self-evident but, on the other hand, it’s not true for people who live with others.  For them, at some point, someone else will probably do at least one of the jobs, at least once.  In my house, that will never happen.

When I first thought like that, it was quite a depressing and tiresome thought.

But I realised the other day that, because I have to take care of everything in my house/life, I am able to take care of everything in my house/life.  Take yesterday: I had a flat tyre, which I had to change and get repaired.  I then had to cook a meal, and do some laundry and ironing.  Later on, I had a problem with my electrics: something blew and tripped the fuse-box.  So I figured out which appliance was faulty, and of course located the fuse-box to trip it back.  I also found time to pick up my guitar and play some tunes.

I’m not trying to make any of this sound more than it is; I realise none of these things are rocket science.  But, the point is, I suddenly became quite pleased to be someone who can do all those things.  Without meaning to be sexist or anything, I don’t think every man knows how to use a car-jack, play a musical instrument, and how to make a decent meal.  (I can even cook quite well when I put my mind to it or there’s someone to impress!)

One of the things I learned in Cognitive Behaviour Therapy (CBT) a couple of years ago is not to downplay the positives in life.  Suffering with Depression usually means it’s easy to believe the victories in our own lives are in some way less than those of everyone else.  I have made progress over the last few weeks – I’m no longer sat in my GP’s office in tears for starters; I can do quite a lot of things, some of them even pretty well.  Sure, I’m not yet ‘happy’, or even ‘okay’, but it’s a start, and that’s worth recognising.

Stopping to remember the achievements or progress we have made – though they/it may be small – can be an important step on the long road to recovery.  It even starts to breed hope of further improvement/achievement in the future, and that really is something to feel better about.

*The small print for this post is that all this has coincided with the sort of time we’d expect my increased medication to have started having an effect ... It seems The Verve were wrong...

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...