If I am honest I put too much hope in the election result, in a change of government, in a change of culture and approach. The exit poll and subsequent results have knocked me flat: I am honestly not sure how I am going to cope with another five years of Conservative government. Another five years of being described as a "scrounger" and a "shirker", another five years of the poorest in society suffering the most, another five years of fear and blame and divide and rule.
It is not that I hate the Conservatives per se, or that I hate Conservative voters. I do hate the campaign they ran, filled with fear, fear of the Scots, fear of the economy, fear that if you do not grasp all you have you may lose it. I hate the idea that all that matters is you, you and your hard working family, nothing else matters. I hate the idea that the poor deserve poverty, that it is a matter of personal responsibility, if only people tried harder they would not be poor. This is blatantly untrue: it ignores all the structures that keep people poor.
I am filled with dread of what £12 billion of welfare cuts are going to mean to my community, to the disabled, none of whom chose their circumstances, what is going to happen? How are we to live? What is it going to mean for the increasing numbers of children growing up in poverty?
There is so much that concerns me, scares me, angers me, I feel so passionately about what is happening. But, but, I am ill, I am exhausted, the anger and anxiety make me more exhausted and sore and ill. How can I make a change? How can I get involved and fight and campaign? To be sure, if I were well, I would be out there, doing everything I could to make a difference. Instead I feel like my arms are tied behind my back, my feet tied together and my mouth gagged: I feel silenced and made invisible by my illness.
So where next? I am at a loss. I am trying to keep an eternal perspective, trying to pray, trying to find hope in God, but the present feels so overwhelming.
I may head back to the Psalms, it feels like a time for lament.
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Showing posts with label mental health. Show all posts
Thursday, 14 May 2015
Wednesday, 18 February 2015
More on change
So it's been over a month and I have managed to miss last month's book, though it could be rather dull, I have mostly read technical booklets lately, on thrilling subjects like how to work the oven or what insurance covers. But I thought an update was long overdue.
I am finally living in my new house, after a long period of doing things and sorting out, it is not totally sorted yet, some of my furniture has yet to arrive and the books have yet to make the big move. Although I never thought I'd manage to pack them all up, took nearly 40 boxes in the end. There have been hiccoughs like the heating breaking down twice and rodent related issues I wish I did not have to deal with, let us just say that Rentokil are expensive but lovely.
All the work involved has been horribly hard on my health, ME, fibromyalgia and moving house do not mix well at all, I have been more tired and sore than in ages lately. Emotionally it is weird too, I am not some who deals well with change: last time Waitrose moved stock around I nearly had a panic attack. So a major life change like moving out on your own is good, but also feels odd, weird, strange and scary. There simply is no turning back and going home and being the same, I cannot let myself and there were lots of reasons I needed to be out, but staying means being brave again and again and again. Of course there have been happy times I have enjoyed, being able to welcome a friend to my place for the first time, exploring a new area (fantastic greengrocer up the road), being able to shut the door on the world, meeting a friendly local cat who insisted on exploring the house for himself. There are things I am looking forward to like planting the garden or having friends over for dinner for the first time. But there are also times when I start at every noise (not helped by aforementioned rodents) or wonder, "what next?" and "what am I doing here?".
Throughout the long process of finding, buying and moving in I have been praying about this move, there have been a lot of questions about whether this is right and am I doing the right thing? And prayers that I would use this house to God's glory, to bring his kingdom here, to make people feel welcome and bless others. Even now I am having doubts about the whole thing: leaving the familiar, even uncomfortable familiarity, is unbelievably hard. I feel so shook up and strange, sometimes I look around and wonder what I am doing here and when the real owner is going to come home. On top of this I am beyond exhausted and having to take a couple of days' off to recuperate. Yet other people are so excited for me, which is lovely, but makes it hard to articulate how I feel at times. In a way it seems ungrateful: this should be fantastic, instead I feel all mixed up inside.
I am trying to pray, to lean on God, to let him be my stability in rapidly changing times, prayer can be such a challenge sometimes. He brought me through to here, he will keep being with me, I know he will, even though I feel a bit lost now. The best way forward I suppose is to try keep praying and to take each day at a time and if that seems too long, take each moment at a time. It will get easier, right?
I am finally living in my new house, after a long period of doing things and sorting out, it is not totally sorted yet, some of my furniture has yet to arrive and the books have yet to make the big move. Although I never thought I'd manage to pack them all up, took nearly 40 boxes in the end. There have been hiccoughs like the heating breaking down twice and rodent related issues I wish I did not have to deal with, let us just say that Rentokil are expensive but lovely.
All the work involved has been horribly hard on my health, ME, fibromyalgia and moving house do not mix well at all, I have been more tired and sore than in ages lately. Emotionally it is weird too, I am not some who deals well with change: last time Waitrose moved stock around I nearly had a panic attack. So a major life change like moving out on your own is good, but also feels odd, weird, strange and scary. There simply is no turning back and going home and being the same, I cannot let myself and there were lots of reasons I needed to be out, but staying means being brave again and again and again. Of course there have been happy times I have enjoyed, being able to welcome a friend to my place for the first time, exploring a new area (fantastic greengrocer up the road), being able to shut the door on the world, meeting a friendly local cat who insisted on exploring the house for himself. There are things I am looking forward to like planting the garden or having friends over for dinner for the first time. But there are also times when I start at every noise (not helped by aforementioned rodents) or wonder, "what next?" and "what am I doing here?".
Throughout the long process of finding, buying and moving in I have been praying about this move, there have been a lot of questions about whether this is right and am I doing the right thing? And prayers that I would use this house to God's glory, to bring his kingdom here, to make people feel welcome and bless others. Even now I am having doubts about the whole thing: leaving the familiar, even uncomfortable familiarity, is unbelievably hard. I feel so shook up and strange, sometimes I look around and wonder what I am doing here and when the real owner is going to come home. On top of this I am beyond exhausted and having to take a couple of days' off to recuperate. Yet other people are so excited for me, which is lovely, but makes it hard to articulate how I feel at times. In a way it seems ungrateful: this should be fantastic, instead I feel all mixed up inside.
I am trying to pray, to lean on God, to let him be my stability in rapidly changing times, prayer can be such a challenge sometimes. He brought me through to here, he will keep being with me, I know he will, even though I feel a bit lost now. The best way forward I suppose is to try keep praying and to take each day at a time and if that seems too long, take each moment at a time. It will get easier, right?
Sunday, 29 June 2014
The Year in Books: June
This month's choice was something of an epic, The Golden Notebook by Doris Lessing, I listened to all 27 or so hours of it on audio book in May and June. However, at no point was listening a slog, rather like a long, enjoyable journey; Juliet Stevenson's brilliant reading was a vital part of the experience. The story concerns Anna, a divorced writer of a best selling novel in her 30s living in London with her daughter and covers a period of time from the 1930s to the 1950s. In its structure it is far from a "normal" novel though, it moves fluidly through time and through different narrative perspectives and is a master class in plot and potentially unreliable narration. The facts of who is who, or why or how particular things have happened are not spelt out, instead the reader is left to put the pieces of the jigsaw together. Although this sounds as though it could be infuriating, I found that it actually meant that I thought a lot about the novel as I went along and tried to fit the pieces together, some you are never openly told but are simply expected to put together. You are quite simply plunged into Anna's world.
The Golden Notebook is very much a novel of the inner life and is mostly told through a first person narrative, except when Anna is looking at the content of the notebooks into which she has attempted to divide up the various strands of her life. One of these is a third person account of her time in Africa during the second world war and her experiences involved with the Communist party there, for this section of the book Anna gives herself a new name, Ella and also renames most of the other protagonists of the novel. Hence Lessing is able to leave you unsure how accurate this account of the past is, as Anna tries to create a distance between herself and her past and to examine it in a new way and try out new scenarios - Ella has a son, whereas Anna has a daughter for example.
Relationships and sex play a large part in the novel, as Anna and her friend Molly seek to find a new way to live as single women, a process which seems to result in a lot of unsatisfactory affairs, generally with married men, who seem to see them as available. In this respect Doris Lessing gives a very different perspective on the life of the unmarried woman in 1950s London to that of another of my favourite novelists, Barbara Pym, whose women are solidly respectable, generally engaged in unrequited love, the church and lonely meals for one in small flats. Anna's life seems to demonstrate the beginnings of the women's liberation movement of the 1960s, its foundations, while Barbara Pym documents the last of a fast fading world. Maternity becomes another key theme as Anna brings up her daughter, a very conventional young girl and Molly struggles with her son and what he should do with his life. Molly's former husband Richard, who had a brief involvement in Communism, but has now settled down to business, represents conventionality and money and Tommy, their son, seems caught in between their two ways of life. Furthermore one gets the impression from The Golden Notebook that it is not only the women who are struggling to sort out their relationships but the men too, such as Molly's ex-husband Richard, who moves from his second to third wives as the novel progresses.
Anna and her friends are experimenting in new ways of living, not just in terms of relationships but in everything; the Communist Party, in which many of the characters have been or are involved in, is a part of this search. In the earlier, African part of the novel, Anna and her friends are frenetically engaged with the Communist Party and taking on some of the racism of the British rule. While later on the novel illuminated the impact of the USSR upon the wider Communist Party, in particular showing the impact of Stalin's death and the revelations of atrocity that followed it on communists outside Russia; for many it seemed to destroy their faith in communism. At the same time Anna comes into contact with Americans exiled because of the MacCarthy era in American politics; injustice in its various forms is a great concern of the novel.
Therefore, amid this tumult of ideas and identities, it may come as little surprise that mental health is another important strand of the novel, both for Anna and for those around her. As I had been thinking a fair amount about identity myself before beginning this novel I did find it fascinating; there were a number of those moments of recognition when a novel describes a thought, a feeling, a sensation and you realise that you are not alone in what you feel. Doris Lessing's descriptions of Anna's sessions with her therapist and of her time of disintegration, are vivid and the latter time becomes immersive, drawing you into Anna's world, it is powerful writing. While Anna's notebooks, culminating in the final golden notebook of the title, are her way of working out her own identity and what she should do next, having published this successful novel and had a long, ultimately unsuccessful affair.
I have written all this and yet hardly touched on the themes, ideas and people of this novel, nor done the novel remote justice. The Golden Notebook has to be one of the most thought provoking, absorbing books I have read in years and although its length may seem daunting at first I would recommend making the effort. As time went on I found that I could lose hours to the book and that I became deeply engaged with what happened to Anna and loved the "Londonness" of the book - certain writers capture London so well. While doing a little research to write this I have found The Golden Notebook Project, a website containing the novel and the debate a number of female writers are carrying on in the margins, with space for further debate in a forum, which might be an interesting way of reading it. Lessing's own preface is on there too, although I am glad that I had not read it before I tackled the book, I prefer to make my own impressions, then read the introduction or preface to novels. The audio book I listened to is available for download here - it is very much cheaper if you join Audible and buy some credits - and I very much recommend the reading, an excellent option for knitters or other crafters.
Perhaps this coming month I will read something that does not concern feminism?
All the other posts from A Year in Books can be viewed here
The Golden Notebook is very much a novel of the inner life and is mostly told through a first person narrative, except when Anna is looking at the content of the notebooks into which she has attempted to divide up the various strands of her life. One of these is a third person account of her time in Africa during the second world war and her experiences involved with the Communist party there, for this section of the book Anna gives herself a new name, Ella and also renames most of the other protagonists of the novel. Hence Lessing is able to leave you unsure how accurate this account of the past is, as Anna tries to create a distance between herself and her past and to examine it in a new way and try out new scenarios - Ella has a son, whereas Anna has a daughter for example.
Relationships and sex play a large part in the novel, as Anna and her friend Molly seek to find a new way to live as single women, a process which seems to result in a lot of unsatisfactory affairs, generally with married men, who seem to see them as available. In this respect Doris Lessing gives a very different perspective on the life of the unmarried woman in 1950s London to that of another of my favourite novelists, Barbara Pym, whose women are solidly respectable, generally engaged in unrequited love, the church and lonely meals for one in small flats. Anna's life seems to demonstrate the beginnings of the women's liberation movement of the 1960s, its foundations, while Barbara Pym documents the last of a fast fading world. Maternity becomes another key theme as Anna brings up her daughter, a very conventional young girl and Molly struggles with her son and what he should do with his life. Molly's former husband Richard, who had a brief involvement in Communism, but has now settled down to business, represents conventionality and money and Tommy, their son, seems caught in between their two ways of life. Furthermore one gets the impression from The Golden Notebook that it is not only the women who are struggling to sort out their relationships but the men too, such as Molly's ex-husband Richard, who moves from his second to third wives as the novel progresses.
Anna and her friends are experimenting in new ways of living, not just in terms of relationships but in everything; the Communist Party, in which many of the characters have been or are involved in, is a part of this search. In the earlier, African part of the novel, Anna and her friends are frenetically engaged with the Communist Party and taking on some of the racism of the British rule. While later on the novel illuminated the impact of the USSR upon the wider Communist Party, in particular showing the impact of Stalin's death and the revelations of atrocity that followed it on communists outside Russia; for many it seemed to destroy their faith in communism. At the same time Anna comes into contact with Americans exiled because of the MacCarthy era in American politics; injustice in its various forms is a great concern of the novel.
Therefore, amid this tumult of ideas and identities, it may come as little surprise that mental health is another important strand of the novel, both for Anna and for those around her. As I had been thinking a fair amount about identity myself before beginning this novel I did find it fascinating; there were a number of those moments of recognition when a novel describes a thought, a feeling, a sensation and you realise that you are not alone in what you feel. Doris Lessing's descriptions of Anna's sessions with her therapist and of her time of disintegration, are vivid and the latter time becomes immersive, drawing you into Anna's world, it is powerful writing. While Anna's notebooks, culminating in the final golden notebook of the title, are her way of working out her own identity and what she should do next, having published this successful novel and had a long, ultimately unsuccessful affair.
I have written all this and yet hardly touched on the themes, ideas and people of this novel, nor done the novel remote justice. The Golden Notebook has to be one of the most thought provoking, absorbing books I have read in years and although its length may seem daunting at first I would recommend making the effort. As time went on I found that I could lose hours to the book and that I became deeply engaged with what happened to Anna and loved the "Londonness" of the book - certain writers capture London so well. While doing a little research to write this I have found The Golden Notebook Project, a website containing the novel and the debate a number of female writers are carrying on in the margins, with space for further debate in a forum, which might be an interesting way of reading it. Lessing's own preface is on there too, although I am glad that I had not read it before I tackled the book, I prefer to make my own impressions, then read the introduction or preface to novels. The audio book I listened to is available for download here - it is very much cheaper if you join Audible and buy some credits - and I very much recommend the reading, an excellent option for knitters or other crafters.
Perhaps this coming month I will read something that does not concern feminism?
All the other posts from A Year in Books can be viewed here
Sunday, 20 April 2014
Easter hope
I have not had that much to say lately, I have been going through a bit of a bad patch and been really down at times. Together with horrible panic attacks at night and the lack of sleep that follows from that, life has not felt like much fun. I have struggled with my faith too, it is not that I do not believe, not that at all, I still believe in God and Jesus and the Holy Spirit and the Bible, that it is all true. But more I have been struggling with me in relation to God, struggling to see past the bad in me, struggling to cope with myself and my inadequacy and why God would ever want anything to do with me. Struggling with grace I suppose, again.
So Easter has been a precious reminder of what Jesus has done for us, that He has taken our sin and takes it afresh every day, so that we can go to the Father. Today I feel a renewal of hope because Jesus has died for us and has risen and stone is rolled away and the tomb is empty and so everything is possible. I will still make mistakes today and tomorrow and the day after, I am not perfect in myself and never can be, but through Christ, in God's eyes I am and I am loved and accepted. How to take in this truth, to understand it and live out that truth?
A couple of songs have been helping me along this path, one is from an album reviewed on a university friend's blog, by a band called Page CXVI and is called Roll Away the Stone, I love the chorus:
And Boldly I Approach by Rend Collective, a meditation on Hebrews 4.16: "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
I hope they help you enjoy God's grace anew this Easter. Life has been hard, it will be hard again, but we all need a reminder of the truth to show us that this is not all, that there is a hope to come. It is a relief to be able to remember God's grace despite not having been able to go to church as I would love to do and amid all the other frustrations of my life. I do not know what is next or where I should be going but for now I will try to rest with God and remember that the Easter message, "That there is now no condemnation for those who are in Jesus Christ."
So Easter has been a precious reminder of what Jesus has done for us, that He has taken our sin and takes it afresh every day, so that we can go to the Father. Today I feel a renewal of hope because Jesus has died for us and has risen and stone is rolled away and the tomb is empty and so everything is possible. I will still make mistakes today and tomorrow and the day after, I am not perfect in myself and never can be, but through Christ, in God's eyes I am and I am loved and accepted. How to take in this truth, to understand it and live out that truth?
A couple of songs have been helping me along this path, one is from an album reviewed on a university friend's blog, by a band called Page CXVI and is called Roll Away the Stone, I love the chorus:
Roll away roll away the stone!
Where he lay, where he lays no more
Risen and victorious radiant and glorious
He rose amen He broke the chains of sin
And Boldly I Approach by Rend Collective, a meditation on Hebrews 4.16: "Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need."
I hope they help you enjoy God's grace anew this Easter. Life has been hard, it will be hard again, but we all need a reminder of the truth to show us that this is not all, that there is a hope to come. It is a relief to be able to remember God's grace despite not having been able to go to church as I would love to do and amid all the other frustrations of my life. I do not know what is next or where I should be going but for now I will try to rest with God and remember that the Easter message, "That there is now no condemnation for those who are in Jesus Christ."
Sunset on Good Friday
Friday, 21 March 2014
The Art of Celebration
Last Monday my favourite band, Rend Collective, released their latest album, titled The Art of Celebration and I have been listening to it all week. The songs have an energy and life to them and contain many truths and promises. The premise of the album is that God is always worth celebrating, no matter what the circumstances of our lives and sets the tone by opening:
The band have talked about not liking being pigeon-holed as a "folk" band and have tried to diversify for this album, but I would say to them not to worry about it, their original philosophy of making music that anyone could get involved in is great, stick with that philosophy. It is much closer to historical church music than the "traditional" organ and choir music, which originated in the nineteenth century when village music groups were banished from churches in favour of organs. Let's put worship back into the hands of the people and have inclusive music that has its roots in the past but has freshness for today.
I am terrible at celebrating, terrible at seeing and remembering the good in life and in God; it sometimes feels like my brain is fixated on the bad, the evil, my sin, endless darkness. But the Bible is packed with people celebrating God, Paul and Silas singing their hymns in prison in Acts 16 particularly come to mind and I hope this album can help me to learn more about always celebrating Jesus and what He has done and is going to do. Despite the name the songs do acknowledge the hard side of life, it is not mindless "everything is wonderful" stuff, but about the conscious choice to celebrate. Darkness, deserts, pain, doubts, questions, sorrows, shadows are all allowed in and acknowledged, but placed in their proper perspective of God's grace and goodness and mercy and light.
There's so much I love about this album, I will admit to not being the most moderate or measured reviewer (though honestly I am not in their pay and I bought my copy!), it has brightened up a dull week and has a message I badly need. Have a listen - in their generosity the band have put the lyric videos on youtube - see what you think, buy a copy, celebrate.
We’re choosing celebrationThis song, Joy, is one of my favourites on the album, the lines "The pain will not define us/Joy will reignite us" have been resonating with me, so often I feel like my identity is being subsumed by illness. There is an interesting dance remix of this song at the end of the album, while dance music isn't usually my scene, it can work for worship music and it mixes well with rhythms of Irish origin often used by Rend Collective.
Breaking into Freedom
You’re the song...
Of our hearts
The band have talked about not liking being pigeon-holed as a "folk" band and have tried to diversify for this album, but I would say to them not to worry about it, their original philosophy of making music that anyone could get involved in is great, stick with that philosophy. It is much closer to historical church music than the "traditional" organ and choir music, which originated in the nineteenth century when village music groups were banished from churches in favour of organs. Let's put worship back into the hands of the people and have inclusive music that has its roots in the past but has freshness for today.
I am terrible at celebrating, terrible at seeing and remembering the good in life and in God; it sometimes feels like my brain is fixated on the bad, the evil, my sin, endless darkness. But the Bible is packed with people celebrating God, Paul and Silas singing their hymns in prison in Acts 16 particularly come to mind and I hope this album can help me to learn more about always celebrating Jesus and what He has done and is going to do. Despite the name the songs do acknowledge the hard side of life, it is not mindless "everything is wonderful" stuff, but about the conscious choice to celebrate. Darkness, deserts, pain, doubts, questions, sorrows, shadows are all allowed in and acknowledged, but placed in their proper perspective of God's grace and goodness and mercy and light.
There's so much I love about this album, I will admit to not being the most moderate or measured reviewer (though honestly I am not in their pay and I bought my copy!), it has brightened up a dull week and has a message I badly need. Have a listen - in their generosity the band have put the lyric videos on youtube - see what you think, buy a copy, celebrate.
By your power I can change, I can change
‘Cos you’re not finished with me yet
This is the art of celebration
Knowing were free from condemnation
Oh praise the One, praise the One
Monday, 10 February 2014
If
Rudyard Kipling wrote in his oft quoted poem If,
After four months of working more or less solidly on nothing else my first reaction was devastation. That set back set off my tendency to catastrophize, triggering all of my worst, blackest thoughts of myself and my fear of failure and fear that I am a failure. Inside my head has not been a pretty place this afternoon Everything felt overwhelming and hopeless and I simply could not see how I could ever sort it out or face trying to sort the jumper out. I felt angry with the jumper and with myself, angry that I had wasted four months, that I had not been able to knit anything for me in that time (what a horrible selfish thought that one is), angry with the world. At one point I even considered taking the scissors to the thing: not in a cutting a steek manner either.
It took most of the afternoon, good friends, some good Christian music, a nap and a particularly good edition of Just a Minute on radio 4 to help me to climb out of that particular sink-hole. All of this came on a day that was not a particularly good day anyhow, I felt tired and headachy, the weather was vile again and life seemed dull again. Now that I have calmed down I can see a way forward. There is not actually that much that needs re-doing, just the two sleeve caps, which in the light of an entire jumper's worth of Fair Isle is fairly minor. I think, upon reflection, that I am going to unpick the sleeve caps, having put life-lines into the arm stitches, knit down from the armholes in the traditional manner and then graft the sleeves back on again. I have plenty of yarn left to do this with and hopefully it will not take too long.
And if that fails? I'm going to dust myself off, pick myself up, take off the sleeves and knit ribbing around the armholes and he can have a tank top and lump it!
Meanwhile I will try to learn from my mistakes and try to be less afraid, sometimes this fear of failure leaves me completely frozen unable to try new things in case they go wrong. Rational self knows that this is nonsense and that my first attempts to walk or talk or write did not always go right and needed lots of tries to get right, so why do I not see that this needs to be the case with learning new things as an adult? Designing a Fair Isle jumper from scratch is a big undertaking, I could not expect to achieve it without making mistakes and wool is a fairly forgiving medium. I have dealt with other things going wrong with it such as getting the v-neck in the wrong place, so why the melt-down today? Mental health recovery seems to be a process of two steps forward, one step back, probably best to see today as a one step back and a learning experience. One day I will be able to keep my head.
If you can meet with Triumph and DisasterThis was to have been a post of triumph, that I had finished my Dad's Fair Isle sweater, that it fitted, that he loved it, a photo or two of the jumper, if not of him wearing it - he wants to get his hair cut first! But... it is finished, it is photographed, it does not fit. I have not blocked it properly (meaning that it is still a little tight all round) and the top of the arms is all wrong, big and puffy.
And treat those two impostors just the same
After four months of working more or less solidly on nothing else my first reaction was devastation. That set back set off my tendency to catastrophize, triggering all of my worst, blackest thoughts of myself and my fear of failure and fear that I am a failure. Inside my head has not been a pretty place this afternoon Everything felt overwhelming and hopeless and I simply could not see how I could ever sort it out or face trying to sort the jumper out. I felt angry with the jumper and with myself, angry that I had wasted four months, that I had not been able to knit anything for me in that time (what a horrible selfish thought that one is), angry with the world. At one point I even considered taking the scissors to the thing: not in a cutting a steek manner either.
It took most of the afternoon, good friends, some good Christian music, a nap and a particularly good edition of Just a Minute on radio 4 to help me to climb out of that particular sink-hole. All of this came on a day that was not a particularly good day anyhow, I felt tired and headachy, the weather was vile again and life seemed dull again. Now that I have calmed down I can see a way forward. There is not actually that much that needs re-doing, just the two sleeve caps, which in the light of an entire jumper's worth of Fair Isle is fairly minor. I think, upon reflection, that I am going to unpick the sleeve caps, having put life-lines into the arm stitches, knit down from the armholes in the traditional manner and then graft the sleeves back on again. I have plenty of yarn left to do this with and hopefully it will not take too long.
And if that fails? I'm going to dust myself off, pick myself up, take off the sleeves and knit ribbing around the armholes and he can have a tank top and lump it!
Meanwhile I will try to learn from my mistakes and try to be less afraid, sometimes this fear of failure leaves me completely frozen unable to try new things in case they go wrong. Rational self knows that this is nonsense and that my first attempts to walk or talk or write did not always go right and needed lots of tries to get right, so why do I not see that this needs to be the case with learning new things as an adult? Designing a Fair Isle jumper from scratch is a big undertaking, I could not expect to achieve it without making mistakes and wool is a fairly forgiving medium. I have dealt with other things going wrong with it such as getting the v-neck in the wrong place, so why the melt-down today? Mental health recovery seems to be a process of two steps forward, one step back, probably best to see today as a one step back and a learning experience. One day I will be able to keep my head.
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
On fear
Although I have heard the promises such as “if our God is for us, who can be against us” and others of its ilk, I still find the world a terrifying place. I feel plagued by fear, surrounded by it, caught up in it. The thought of the long-term future fills me with such panic, of course we do not know what will happen, but sometimes we need to take decisions or do some sort of planning for the future and I find it almost unbearable.
I have improved over time, I can now think beyond the next minute, beyond the next hour, beyond the next week, sometimes even beyond the next month or months without being gripped by terror, slowly I have regained the future. But I still feel as though I am surviving, not living and at present I am wrestling with how to live, how my future should look, what I should do with what I have and what I do not have. It is an unsettling process, stirring me up inside, a hard process after such a long time of simply not wanting to be alive. I am trying to accept life.
The worst thing about the fear is the feeling that I have failed God, my loving Father, He has said time and time again “Do not fear, do not be afraid”, and yet... somehow I cannot trust Him. I feel ashamed and hate my lack of trust and faith, my failure to obey, to believe that He is sovereign and knows my future (Psalm 139) and that He will never leave me (Hebrews 13).
In the light of this failure I find the prayer in Mark 9.24 a help and a heart's cry, “I believe; help my unbelief!”. God is gracious and there have been times in the middle of the terror and panic when He has been so close and has calmed me, at least my fear keeps me coming to Him for help.
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. Forgive my lack of trust and help my trust in you to grow as I come to you in the storms. Be with me, strengthen my feeble knees and weak hands, be with me in the fear and help me to overcome. Be with those who also fear. Amen
I have improved over time, I can now think beyond the next minute, beyond the next hour, beyond the next week, sometimes even beyond the next month or months without being gripped by terror, slowly I have regained the future. But I still feel as though I am surviving, not living and at present I am wrestling with how to live, how my future should look, what I should do with what I have and what I do not have. It is an unsettling process, stirring me up inside, a hard process after such a long time of simply not wanting to be alive. I am trying to accept life.
The worst thing about the fear is the feeling that I have failed God, my loving Father, He has said time and time again “Do not fear, do not be afraid”, and yet... somehow I cannot trust Him. I feel ashamed and hate my lack of trust and faith, my failure to obey, to believe that He is sovereign and knows my future (Psalm 139) and that He will never leave me (Hebrews 13).
In the light of this failure I find the prayer in Mark 9.24 a help and a heart's cry, “I believe; help my unbelief!”. God is gracious and there have been times in the middle of the terror and panic when He has been so close and has calmed me, at least my fear keeps me coming to Him for help.
Lord, I believe, help my unbelief. Forgive my lack of trust and help my trust in you to grow as I come to you in the storms. Be with me, strengthen my feeble knees and weak hands, be with me in the fear and help me to overcome. Be with those who also fear. Amen
"Jesus said... “Do not fear, only believe,” Mark 5.36
Sunday, 10 March 2013
52 Weeks of Happy - week 9 (belatedly)
Life has somehow overtaken me and I am now two weeks behind in "52 weeks of happy", it may be challenging remembering what happened in the week before last so you will have to bear with me! I did consider doing weeks nine and ten in one post, but that seemed somehow to be cheating.
1. Camomile Tea - recommended by a friend because I was so stressed and tense I could not relax, to the point where I was rigid with tension or shaking. It worked almost at once, unlocking the tension enough that I could then work on relaxing and could cope again. Since then I have had some every day and while I am not completely sorted, it is helping.
2. More signs of spring - some more tree prunings, this time from the magnolia tree outside the house.
3. Marking Time - the second of the Cazalet novels by Elizabeth Jane Howard. It is ages since I was so lost and absorbed in a book, or a series of books. They deal with the life of an extended family in the years surrounding and during the second world war, there is so much skill in the way she tells the story from different perspectives and managing to produce an ensemble work in which there are no weak or under-developed characters. I have ended up caring about these characters intensely, truly caring what happens to them. The novels are being beautifully dramatised on radio 4 across this year to mark Elizabeth Jane Howard's 90th birthday.
4. Apple loaf - from the Edmonds' cook book, essentially a soda bread with grated apple added. It was moist and tasty with a dense but not heavy crumb. Even better it was not hard to make so hopefully I will be able to make it again soon. I am considering whether some spices and sultanas would make good additions, sounds like experiment time!
1. Camomile Tea - recommended by a friend because I was so stressed and tense I could not relax, to the point where I was rigid with tension or shaking. It worked almost at once, unlocking the tension enough that I could then work on relaxing and could cope again. Since then I have had some every day and while I am not completely sorted, it is helping.
2. More signs of spring - some more tree prunings, this time from the magnolia tree outside the house.
3. Marking Time - the second of the Cazalet novels by Elizabeth Jane Howard. It is ages since I was so lost and absorbed in a book, or a series of books. They deal with the life of an extended family in the years surrounding and during the second world war, there is so much skill in the way she tells the story from different perspectives and managing to produce an ensemble work in which there are no weak or under-developed characters. I have ended up caring about these characters intensely, truly caring what happens to them. The novels are being beautifully dramatised on radio 4 across this year to mark Elizabeth Jane Howard's 90th birthday.
4. Apple loaf - from the Edmonds' cook book, essentially a soda bread with grated apple added. It was moist and tasty with a dense but not heavy crumb. Even better it was not hard to make so hopefully I will be able to make it again soon. I am considering whether some spices and sultanas would make good additions, sounds like experiment time!
Thursday, 24 January 2013
Doing enough
Last night I was having another of my guilt-filled panics with God about "the future" and whether or not I should be doing and achieving more. This is a frequent thought, which derives from a vague sense that I should be doing something, regardless of how I am and it seems to be a deep seated idea as I have struggled with it for a long time now. I see all my friends and contemporaries getting PhDs or married or having children or careers or travelling, or a mixture of the above, and feel like a failure, an idea further engendered from my family, where to have a BA degree is to be somewhat under-educated. What am I doing? What have I done with the last six years of my life?
Then something like this morning happens, a sudden crisis in my mother's health and all these thoughts fall away as the central business of existing suddenly takes over and consumes all my energy and thought. Thankfully my mother is recovering and I am gradually recovering from the shock, although things are not entirely back to normal.
In the midst of this I read Ruth's post on her excellent blog One Little Drop this morning and then read the blog posts she had linked to and they gave me back some sense of perspective on myself, the first article in particular. All this time that I have been ill I have felt under a pressure from others to be doing something, or that it was time to move on from being ill and do something, as though it were that simple, when so many days are spent simply managing to get through the day, when being consumes all energy.
And yet, and yet... I still lack the confidence to say that I am doing enough, that just being and getting through the day with grace and the minimum of self pity and bitterness is enough. Jesus help me, give me your perspective.
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Think about these things
Rejoice in the Lord always; again I will say, rejoice. Let your reasonableness be known to everyone. The Lord is at hand; do not be anxious about anything, but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.
Philippians 4.4-8
I thought that passage was worth quoting in full, since it contains such useful, practical instructions for how to think, how to live and how to avoid anxiety. It is certainly a passage I need to read, mark and inwardly ingest. All too often I find myself defaulting to gloom and depression, dwelling on all the bad things in my life and in the world. I go over and over "whatever is false, whatever is dishonourable, whatever is unjust, whatever is impure, whatever is horrible, whatever is reprehensible" and experience a lot of misery, fear, anxiety and very little peace. Lately I have found myself revisiting a situation in some one's life or the world for which I've been praying, going back over it again and again, not letting go.
But these verses tell me to do the opposite, to give these situations and concerns and requests to God, then move on and leave them with Him, not say with my mouth I am giving them to Him, then holding onto them still in my heart. Instead I need to trust Him with them, and move on, trust Him with myself and rejoice and think about "anything excellent, anything worth of praise". Yet again it comes back to trusting God. And so I keep repenting and returning to Him and trying to learn to accept His peace and allow Him to guard my heart and my mind in Christ Jesus. Who could be a better guardian of my heart and mind? Who can better help those I care about and help this troubled world?
God giving us His peace "that surpasses all understanding" is an immense expression of God's superlative generosity and grace. My life would look so different if I did entrust everything to God: infinitely better, calmer, more joyful, secure, peaceful and a powerful witness to the world. So I will keep praying that God will help me to remember to bring things to Him and not hold onto themselves myself, allow Him to take my burdens (Matthew 11.28-30) and that He will increasingly grant me His peace.
Then, having entrusted myself to Him, I pray that He will help me not to think on all the evils of this world but on "whatever is true, whatever is honourable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable... any excellence... anything worthy of praise" and to work out what this list includes. I suspect that this list will, outside the obvious key examples, such as God and Jesus, depend greatly upon each of our interests and characters, since God is a God of such creativity and infinite variety.
Therefore this is my challenge, to change what I think about and learn to entrust what worries me to God and rejoice in Him instead. Father help me, for I need your help.
Wednesday, 24 August 2011
Radio silence
I haven't posted for a while because there hasn't been a lot to say. It's just more of the same, more feeling awful, more waiting for appointments, more impromptu trips to the doctors', more things I need to do piling up undone, more depression, more antibiotics, or antibirockets as a fellow raveller put it.
I feel truly pathetic for getting so down, other people have things far worse than I do and manage to live with far more grace, although I know depression doesn't help me to do this. Life is just so hard, unrelentingly so and I'm trying so hard to hope. Being so isolated doesn't help either, particularly spiritually, being an isolated Christian with depression isn't easy, I'm trying to believe, trying to keep communicating with Jesus, keep worshipping, but not succeeding very well.
At least I've got an appointment later in the week to see Father Andrew, a lovely retired vicar or priest (he wears a dog collar so he must be something like that?) who is wonderfully understanding and one of those people who is so Jesus-like. Crucially he is also easy to talk to; I find even when I do see people that it's really hard to open up. I guess you're never sure how people will react and it's rare that any one's got the time and inclination really to listen. And I don't know how to start or what to say and I don't really have the energy to socialise anyway. It's that catch-22 situation of being lonely but not well enough to see people.
However, before this all gets too depressing for words, there have been a few other things going on. The loaf of bread I made overnight in the bread maker has come out very nicely, a light wholemeal loaf. But I have had to undo ten days' hard work on a cardigan I have been working on because of a simple mathematical error that means it was working out far too small. One of this afternoon's tasks will be to start the cardigan all over again. Such is knitting I suppose, one blessing is that the yarn doesn't seem overly bothered by being undone, some of it for the second time. It is a bit disheartening to see ten days' work reduced to a pathetic huddle of bundles of yarn.
I am going to go outside into the garden now, since the weather has changed once again, from November back to proper August weather.
Oh and while we're on the subject of the radio - Radio 4 has just started another of its modern production of lost Paul Temple serials, past ones have been superb, truly the BBC at its very best - you simply must listen!
Sunday, 12 June 2011
Shaking off the black dog
I've been meaning to write a less "heavy" post for a while now, but haven't quite got around to it as I've been feeling a bit down and apathetic and lethargic, which is not me: I hate it. So I'm trying to shake it off, remember the good things.
Spring and early summer are particularly easy times of year in which to find good things to celebrate, even when it's been raining constantly as in the past few days, especially as we have needed the rain so very much. There have been plenty of birds in the garden, yesterday a wren was making a disproportionate amount of noise for a bird so tiny while feeding its young and a fledgling robin has been making his fluffy first attempts at solo life and visiting our bird feeder. So birds and their song: there is good thing one.
Then the plants, oh the plants, coming up in merry profusion and confusion, self seeding, growing back from apparently lifeless twigs, we have had a baby cherry tree, several cow slips and a single rogue daffodil coming up in the middle of the lawn, plenty of nasturtiums growing from last year and flowering gloriously, with a golden colour that looks like condensed sunshine and roses, so many roses. Around the roses, which are past their first flush of glory, are two flowering Jasmines, which are smelling heavenly - I go out into the garden and stand by them and inhale! Our garden is starting to look like a garden and less like an untidy patch of ground. The vegetables are coming along nicely too; the runner beans in particular, appreciating the rain and having astonishing growth spurts. Bees of many varieties (hard to identify as they do not stay still long and are very small!) are busy all through the day on all the flowers, particularly around the Hebe hedge by the front door.
Inside there have been some good plays on the radio lately, including some on the Plantagenet kings and a Terrence Rattigan season celebrating his centenary. Some good books, though the only one I can remember having read recently is Dorothy Whipple's High Wages, an engaging and interesting novel about life in a Lancashire in the early twentieth century. The protagonist, Jane, is a very likable character with real spirit, at times when reading I found myself 'cheering her on' as she took on the attitudes and set ways of the community around her.
Naturally I have been knitting still too, socks, baby items for the ongoing population explosion among my friends, hats, a cardigan, the usual things. But my heart is not quite in it just now, I am not sure why, but I can't quite settle or focus. My concentration is not good, yet I am bored of simpler patterns. Though looking through my recent photographs I have finished a couple of major projects recently, including a baby blanket, so I should perhaps expect a bit less of myself?
Were I physically well the depression would be so much easier to shake off through keeping busy and doing new things, changing things, exercising. I can do so little of any of that and it does get to me sometimes. I am trying to keep going and battle on, keep trusting Jesus and staying positive, but goodness me there are times when it is hard!
Wednesday, 1 June 2011
Unbecoming Victor[ia]
Lately I have been feeling in increasing sympathy with Victor Meldrew (the 'hero' of One Foot in the Grave), feeling incredibly intensely angry with just about everything. I have found myself ranting and shouting at the television, losing it over the slightest thing, tense and overwhelmed by anger. A lot of it to do with feeling out of control and unable to change things, like the government or the benefits' system or the way we human beings treat one another.
Of course I know that anger is not always a negative thing, that Jesus was righteously angry, most famously when he took a whip to the sellers in the temple courts. However, although a very small proportion of my anger could perhaps be construed this way - at injustice in the world and my own sin - the majority of it cannot. Moreover it is not even useful anger, of a sort that spurs one onto change something in the world, to do something about it, instead it leaves me exhausted and drained, which is not a good use of an already scarce resource.
This weekend, having shouted and ranted my way through most of an edition of Any Questions on Radio 4 I realised that I needed to do something to change this situation. In classical Christian parlance I felt convicted, in particular by Jesus' words in the sermon on the mount:
"But I tell you that anyone who is angry with his brother will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to his brother, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the Sanhedrin. But anyone who says, ‘You fool!’ will be in danger of the fire of hell." (Matthew 5.22 NIV)
In particular by the word 'Raca' from this passage and I hated feeling so bitter, angry and out of control. It is the feeling that there are major aspects of my life, such as my health care provision or my income and general government policy, over which I have no control. I have been enraged by the government's attitude towards the vulnerable and their demonization of the sick and disabled; and worse still felt powerless, too tired to protest and generally overwhelmed, invisible and not heard. Listing all the things that have been making me angry would take a long time and it was alarming how unloving, ungracious (in the godly meaning of the word) and hateful I was becoming, the opposite of Jesus in so many ways.
But then as I was praying and mulling over how to deal with this, begging God to help me not feel so angry or be able to use this anger to some effect, it came to me. I may not have the ear of government ministers or the media, but I do have the ear of one who is far more powerful: God "for the authorities are God’s servants, who give their full time to governing" (Romans 13.6 NIV) and He always listens (Proverbs 15.29; Luke 18, among many others).
Prayer yet again is the answer, as I have found many times before (why do I always seem to forget?!). It is doubly powerful because it can change a situation (e.g. 1 Kings 18) and change me: changes my heart and my mind and my attitude about people and situations as it brings me closer to God as I spend time with Him. So I've started praying, starting with David Cameron and continuing with others and situations which have made me angry, and already I feel calmer and more at peace with the world. Naturally it is not quite that simple, I still have a long way to go, but I feel like I am on the right path: knowing that I have someone I can turn to, who listens and is infinitely powerful, helps so much.
Before I feel too self-congratulatory I should thank God, for once again forgiving me and drawing me close to Him, for His patience and His love and His grace.
"Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." Philipians 4.4-7
May we all know God's peace.
Monday, 18 April 2011
Day seven (extremely belatedly) - your knitting and crochet time
Sorry for the delay in this post, still better late than never? I wasn't quite feeling up to blogging.
I do have an extraordinary amount of time available for knitting and crochet, although often very little energy - mental and physical - for it, which means that my actual output is not a great deal higher than many prolific 'well' knitters out there. Most of my knitting and crochet time is spent at my desk, where I have a big comfy chair, ravelry open on the computer, something from radio iplayer such as comedy from "BBC Radio 4 extra" (the artist formerly known as BBC Radio 7) to listen to, a glass of cordial to my left and vital items such as tape measure, scissors, pencil and tapestry needle close on hand. My desk, due to a mixture of exhaustion and "creative working practices", is much, much too messy to photograph. You may think you know untidy, but I tell you, you would be genuinely shocked.
My second modus operandi is knitting on the sofa in the sunny bay window of the living room, with or without the television or a DVD to watch. This bay window catches the sun brilliantly and is a delightful spot on a sunny day - had we a cat this would be where you would find him or her - instead I bask alone. There are a variety of flowering plants here, including my beloved poinsettia, a nice big cushion to lean against, a blanket for colder weather and the vital kit of tape measure, scissors, pencil and tapestry needle on hand.
Since the weather started to improve I have begun taking my knitting
and crochet out to the garden, to bask in the sunshine, without the hot house effect of all that glass, and enjoy the relative tranquillity. I say relative since our proximity to the centre of town and in particular the police station can make it a little loud at times, but it's mainly a low hum in the background and happily drowned out in birdsong. Outside, without the distractions of the computer, or downstairs on the sofa, I do tend to get more done, than at my desk. In particular I will often take a dull bit of knitting, or one which does not seem to be getting anywhere, downstairs with me, to get it done while occupied with a good film.Likewise I often use meeting up with people, either at knitting group or just out and about in general as an opportunity to get simple garter or stocking stitch done, enjoying the process with my hands while my brain is occupied socially. Indeed I have found it folly to take anything more complicated with me to knitting group, as it inevitably leads to disaster. As women have done through history I keep my knitting with me most of the time to fill in those little gaps in the day - while the food is cooking, in the doctors' waiting room, on the train etc. - which would otherwise be idle and dull. The sheer portability of knitting and crochet is a major factor in my adherence to these crafts rather than others involving more setting up and preparation.
My knitting and crochet time is of infinite value in my life, it gives me interests beyond the bounds of myself and my illness to think about and an occupation, something that gives me something to do while consuming little energy. Through knitting even the worst day can have its achievements, however small, I can learn new skills, meet new people and gain a sense of purpose. It is something positive to think about and means that the days are not entirely empty, there are small goals to achieve, the turning of a heel, another inch on a jumper, another granny square. The very act of knitting or crocheting is positive, distracting me from pain, calming me, cheering me, distracting my mind from dismal depression.
Thank you to the wonderful Eskimimi for organising this week (or several weeks in my case) of blogging, it's really great, has been wonderful seeing the knitting and crocheting world from so many different perspectives and coming across new blogs. It has also been a great incentive to blog more: hopefully I will keep this up.
Tuesday, 1 February 2011
An inauspicious start to February
Today I reached the point in the crash from going out for dinner on Saturday night with some church friends where I was wishing I'd not gone. At the time I did enjoy myself and was pleased I'd overcome the anxiety about it sufficiently to go, though the meal went on for longer than I expected and involved all the usual stressors like noise and uncomfortable chairs. Now I'm utterly fed up, with it always being the same story, with always having to pay so heavily for so little fun, with myself for letting it get me down, with the world for there being so little sympathy or kindness in it, with myself again for feeling sorry for myself... I could go on, but I won't bore us all to tears.
To compound matters I got stressed about a discussion I was having with some others about sickness, work and whether one should just "tough it out" or stop. It's an area in which I am incredibly sensitive; I loathe that I can't work, I feel guilty about it, all the things I wanted to achieve that are not happening and that may never happen. I tried the "toughing it out" or "pushing myself" approach and did myself terrible damage. So getting into a discussion on the topic on a day when I already felt awful and low, was not the wisest decision. Getting into this discussion on-line, where all nuance of voice, expression and body language - was an even worse decision. Naturally being very physically stressed and unable to relax lead to the inevitable migraine. Mercifully the migraine tablet (once located, in the waste paper basket, to which I had consigned the box thinking it was the empty one), worked its miracle and I feel largely better except for the usual weird aching joints that accompanies them.
So what to learn from this catalogue of misadventure? Not to get into argumentative discussions because I simply do not have the strength to deal with them. To try not to be so over sensitive to every nuance of what someone is saying. That everyone is different, every situation is different, therefore what is right for one person is not necessarily right for another. That I still have a lot of things I need to straighten out. That no person is utterly reliable and that Jesus is still very much the one to turn to and cling to and trust. All the storms of this life seem to blow me in His direction, thankfully. Therefore repentance and receiving His forgiveness, love and understanding awaits and I'll try to learn from my mistakes.
Phew, quite a lot of moaning there, sorry. Got to "talk" to someone though and it has helped getting my thoughts in some sort of order and out of my head, instead of buzzing around inside. I'm going to listen to Ed Reardon's Week now, his curmudgeonly grumpiness will be just right to help me relax before bed!
Wednesday, 3 November 2010
News from another world
Tonight I achieved my dearly held wish to make it to church for at least part of the prayer week. I'd forgotten how big our church building is - it has magnificent wooden roof beams on a scale that would today be prohibitively expensive.
God was deliciously, gloriously close and I really felt His love and Him with me, especially during the singing and the time of corporate prayer. Though I'm not sure I really know how to worship with others any more, it felt a bit strange, I suppose just from lack of practice, I'm not used to other people being there too.
I suppose I'm feeling so down and flat now because for a while I dared to dream and be part of another world that I don't usually have much contact with, then I got home and realised that I still wasn't part of that world and everything is still the same. It is like when you watch a movie and get caught up in the world of that movie; then it ends and you come back down to earth. For a while this evening, before fatigue, fever, panic and the tiles on the chancel floor making me feel seasick and weird brought me back down to earth, I dared to dream that maybe I was well enough for church. For about 15 minutes I felt fine, great even, I managed to stand through two whole songs and for a little while after that! But before I'd been out of the house two hours I was struggling to focus and stay awake and feeling physically bizarre (there is no other word for it).
The glimpse of the lives other people live didn't help either, I'm finding that the more I compare my life with that of other people the worse I feel about myself. It was yet another reminder that the church doesn't seem to have a lot of use for the ill or disabled, in order to serve in the church you need not only to be well, but turbo charged. And yes, I know how bitter that sounds. I know I need to stop comparing myself with others, for a start it's not comparing like with like. If I take life slowly and focus on each moment at a time, on the things I can do, then I can sometimes achieve some sort of contentment.
Sorry that there has been so much soul-searching on here lately: I've been having a very confusing time, quite turbulent inwardly and I don't have anyone to talk it over with, who I know and trust well enough and see anything of to talk about such things. And there has been so much inner turbulence and instability of mood that it wouldn't be fair to inflict it all on one person (though Catherine has stoically put up with plenty of it!). I think I shall start a private diary for matters spiritual, but still share some of what goes on here, partly to encourage and partly to educate anyone reading this about what it is like to be trying to survive as a sick Christian, or to make any fellow travellers feel less alone.
In the meantime I'm trying to salvage the good from the wreckage of tonight, wishing my mood were more stable and trying to ignore how much more of 'an ill person' the experience made me feel. Most of all I want to focus on God and how good He is, in spite of what a mess I am.
God was deliciously, gloriously close and I really felt His love and Him with me, especially during the singing and the time of corporate prayer. Though I'm not sure I really know how to worship with others any more, it felt a bit strange, I suppose just from lack of practice, I'm not used to other people being there too.
I suppose I'm feeling so down and flat now because for a while I dared to dream and be part of another world that I don't usually have much contact with, then I got home and realised that I still wasn't part of that world and everything is still the same. It is like when you watch a movie and get caught up in the world of that movie; then it ends and you come back down to earth. For a while this evening, before fatigue, fever, panic and the tiles on the chancel floor making me feel seasick and weird brought me back down to earth, I dared to dream that maybe I was well enough for church. For about 15 minutes I felt fine, great even, I managed to stand through two whole songs and for a little while after that! But before I'd been out of the house two hours I was struggling to focus and stay awake and feeling physically bizarre (there is no other word for it).
The glimpse of the lives other people live didn't help either, I'm finding that the more I compare my life with that of other people the worse I feel about myself. It was yet another reminder that the church doesn't seem to have a lot of use for the ill or disabled, in order to serve in the church you need not only to be well, but turbo charged. And yes, I know how bitter that sounds. I know I need to stop comparing myself with others, for a start it's not comparing like with like. If I take life slowly and focus on each moment at a time, on the things I can do, then I can sometimes achieve some sort of contentment.
Sorry that there has been so much soul-searching on here lately: I've been having a very confusing time, quite turbulent inwardly and I don't have anyone to talk it over with, who I know and trust well enough and see anything of to talk about such things. And there has been so much inner turbulence and instability of mood that it wouldn't be fair to inflict it all on one person (though Catherine has stoically put up with plenty of it!). I think I shall start a private diary for matters spiritual, but still share some of what goes on here, partly to encourage and partly to educate anyone reading this about what it is like to be trying to survive as a sick Christian, or to make any fellow travellers feel less alone.
In the meantime I'm trying to salvage the good from the wreckage of tonight, wishing my mood were more stable and trying to ignore how much more of 'an ill person' the experience made me feel. Most of all I want to focus on God and how good He is, in spite of what a mess I am.
Sunday, 31 October 2010
Wish I were there
Right now I'm feeling torn to pieces inside because there are all these wonderful things happening at church - prayer, communal meals, worship, fellowship in so many different shapes and forms - and I'm stuck here, out of it, hurting all over and so tired the ground feels like it's dragging me down. And I want to yell at God because He could make me well enough to go and He isn't and I could just cry and cry but I've got, somehow, to find a way of accepting the situation and keep on trusting Him.
The alternative is to keep hugging the anger and hurt to me and not do anything positive and keep on wallowing in negativity. After all there's nothing to say that you have to be in a particular place or even with particular people to pray for your church (or for anything else). So not being able to make it to church isn't such a disaster, true the fellowship is better there than in an empty room, but God's always here, He never goes away and we don't have to go to a particular place to meet Him.
Bizarrely just the act of writing this down, getting it off my chest, has made me feel significantly better. Letting things get pent up inside doesn't help, I'm becoming increasingly aware of that. Of late I've been so angry about things, just about being ill and my general situation and I don't know how to handle it, what to do with it, how to be less angry. Hopefully it will pass or ease soon as the side effects from those pills gradually wear off and my mood settles down again, but it could take some months to restore equilibrium - it was only a very delicate equilibrium in the first place and one that took years to achieve. In the meantime I suppose I just have to put up with the sheer instability of my moods and their tendency to plummet to the depths of despair in minutes. Sometimes I worry that I must look or come across as utterly mad.
I suppose tomorrow I've just got to find a way of glorifying God within the constraints He has put upon me, rinse, lather and repeat the next day and the next and the next. Walking (or more realistically limping) with Christ and trying to learn to trust Him.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8.28*
*please note: although I've quoted this verse here do not think that quoting it to a Christian who is going through hard times is a solve all. Having it quoted at you when things are tough by all and sundry without thought or any other form of encouragement can get extremely irksome.
The alternative is to keep hugging the anger and hurt to me and not do anything positive and keep on wallowing in negativity. After all there's nothing to say that you have to be in a particular place or even with particular people to pray for your church (or for anything else). So not being able to make it to church isn't such a disaster, true the fellowship is better there than in an empty room, but God's always here, He never goes away and we don't have to go to a particular place to meet Him.
Bizarrely just the act of writing this down, getting it off my chest, has made me feel significantly better. Letting things get pent up inside doesn't help, I'm becoming increasingly aware of that. Of late I've been so angry about things, just about being ill and my general situation and I don't know how to handle it, what to do with it, how to be less angry. Hopefully it will pass or ease soon as the side effects from those pills gradually wear off and my mood settles down again, but it could take some months to restore equilibrium - it was only a very delicate equilibrium in the first place and one that took years to achieve. In the meantime I suppose I just have to put up with the sheer instability of my moods and their tendency to plummet to the depths of despair in minutes. Sometimes I worry that I must look or come across as utterly mad.
I suppose tomorrow I've just got to find a way of glorifying God within the constraints He has put upon me, rinse, lather and repeat the next day and the next and the next. Walking (or more realistically limping) with Christ and trying to learn to trust Him.
"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." Romans 8.28*
*please note: although I've quoted this verse here do not think that quoting it to a Christian who is going through hard times is a solve all. Having it quoted at you when things are tough by all and sundry without thought or any other form of encouragement can get extremely irksome.
Saturday, 14 August 2010
Decisions, decisions
Today I made a momentous decision: I have joined Weightwatchers (and about time too! I hear from the gallery). I have been vaguely thinking I need to lose weight, but then going out and buying chocolate, for quite a while now and I've finally reached a point where enough is enough. Today I'm in the right place financially and mentally to be able to do something about it and sufficiently fed up with being this fat to want to do it.
So I'm slowly getting to grips with my life being ruled by points (it's rather like being back in the second world war really) and reading the recipes on their website and entering depressing personal data. I'm stoked that carrots and cabbage are 0 points (or nuls points as it would be in the Eurovision song contest), but slightly peeved that one tablespoon of petits pois is 1 point. The number of points associated with cheese has blown my tiny mind! I have looked into the future and it contains significantly less cheese than once it did, right now I don't mind too much, how I will feel in coming weeks remains to be seen. I have been hungry at times today, despite being 8.5 points over my target number of points (looks embarrassed and blames the cheese) but that was always going to be the case switching from eating unlimited rubbish to limited healthy things, however sustaining the healthy things.
I'm hoping overall to feel better about myself, that the fibro/ME might improve (I can dream!), to be able to wear nice clothes, cut the risk of nasty health problems associated with being really overweight, to be able to knit more sweaters without having to toil through the acres of stocking stitch currently required to cover me and ultimately to be healthier in my habits and my relationship with food for life. Challenges are going to include any dips in mental health, times when I feel down and habitually reach for the biscuit barrel or times when I feel bored and eat to alleviate the boredom and the sheer number of pills I'm on that can cause weight gain (will be discussing this with GP when he re-emerges from his sabbatical). Hopefully a combination of relying on Jesus instead of food (also helping my spiritual health) and knitting will get me through.
My first target is to lose 7lb, I shall let you know how I get on. In the meantime I'm going to be quiet in case I turn into a WW bore (see, I'm already using the abbreviation!).
In other news I've finally found the pattern notes I had made for changes I'm making to the knee socks I started ages and ages ago so can continue them, my mini hot water bottle cover is almost finished and the weather is already such that my Forest Canopy Shawl is coming into its own keeping me warm about the house.
Lastly this evening I have started listening to Alice Through the Looking Glass excellently read on BBC Radio 7 by Alan Bennett, which is either an unsuccessful attempt to teach chess through allegory or the results of experiments with mind altering substances - my friend John reckons higher maths, though I'm inclined to think drugs of some form myself.
So I'm slowly getting to grips with my life being ruled by points (it's rather like being back in the second world war really) and reading the recipes on their website and entering depressing personal data. I'm stoked that carrots and cabbage are 0 points (or nuls points as it would be in the Eurovision song contest), but slightly peeved that one tablespoon of petits pois is 1 point. The number of points associated with cheese has blown my tiny mind! I have looked into the future and it contains significantly less cheese than once it did, right now I don't mind too much, how I will feel in coming weeks remains to be seen. I have been hungry at times today, despite being 8.5 points over my target number of points (looks embarrassed and blames the cheese) but that was always going to be the case switching from eating unlimited rubbish to limited healthy things, however sustaining the healthy things.
I'm hoping overall to feel better about myself, that the fibro/ME might improve (I can dream!), to be able to wear nice clothes, cut the risk of nasty health problems associated with being really overweight, to be able to knit more sweaters without having to toil through the acres of stocking stitch currently required to cover me and ultimately to be healthier in my habits and my relationship with food for life. Challenges are going to include any dips in mental health, times when I feel down and habitually reach for the biscuit barrel or times when I feel bored and eat to alleviate the boredom and the sheer number of pills I'm on that can cause weight gain (will be discussing this with GP when he re-emerges from his sabbatical). Hopefully a combination of relying on Jesus instead of food (also helping my spiritual health) and knitting will get me through.
My first target is to lose 7lb, I shall let you know how I get on. In the meantime I'm going to be quiet in case I turn into a WW bore (see, I'm already using the abbreviation!).
In other news I've finally found the pattern notes I had made for changes I'm making to the knee socks I started ages and ages ago so can continue them, my mini hot water bottle cover is almost finished and the weather is already such that my Forest Canopy Shawl is coming into its own keeping me warm about the house.
Lastly this evening I have started listening to Alice Through the Looking Glass excellently read on BBC Radio 7 by Alan Bennett, which is either an unsuccessful attempt to teach chess through allegory or the results of experiments with mind altering substances - my friend John reckons higher maths, though I'm inclined to think drugs of some form myself.
Tuesday, 3 August 2010
Post 101
My last post was my one hundredth; quite a landmark if I say so myself. I'm not entirely sure how to mark it, despite having blogged one hundred times I would still describe myself as a beginner in the art, though I now have the blog looking aesthetically more attractive.
Thinking about the things I like about the blogs I read a lot, the things that attract me to them is not just good writing, but also good photos and plenty of them, so I would like to improve my photographic skills and make my blog more picture orientated, though not to dilute the writing, but to complement it. Although this could be tricky as my camera is not currently working, it keeps saying there is a problem with the picture card; one of mine will now no longer work in the computer - irritatingly, as that is the card with all the pictures on it - the other is new and works in the computer but not the camera: even if I manage to mend it I would possibly like a camera upgrade. Mine is about five years old and my phone now has more mega-pixels.
In other news I'm working on my first pair of gloves with proper fingers and also the first ever vintage pattern I've knit, this pattern to be exact, in a gorgeous dark blue yarn from Abstract Cat crafts, dark blue with little hits and tones of turquoises just beginning to head into green, which I bought from folksy.com. The yarn is utterly gorgeous, though the dye is coming off on my hands a little; I'm going to be looking up how to fix dye once I've knit these gloves! The base yarn is as lovely as the colours and the fabric is firm but not stiff, with that "squish" and "sproing" you get with good wool yarn.
I'm not feeling fantastic this week, tired and crashing and trying not to be down. I am trying to rest it out and CBT myself when necessary, separate out all the things I'm thinking and work out why I'm thinking them and if they are valid. The problem is that the blank depressed down feeling is very familiar and in a strange way is a 'comfort zone' and I've got to make sure I don't just stay there because it's familiar, but be willing to push out of it and try new places and new experiences and feelings, because outside and beyond that zone are lots of lovely and exciting places to explore. Hopefully I'll get somewhere.
It might seem odd to have this mixture of personal stuff, encompassing mood and health and all sorts, in amongst the more traditional preoccupations of a craft blog, but my life isn't perfect and I want to be honest about that. My life is far from perfect, it isn't a feature in a lifestyle magazine, sometimes it's raw and messy and real and sometimes it's beautiful and joyful and creative and occasionally it's a mixture of them all at once. I've all too often felt intimidated or jealous (depending on my mood) by how perfect some people's lives seem, everything sorted out, life a series of wonderful events, but I know countless others for whom life just isn't like that and I want to be a voice out here in the wilds of the Internet for life as it is. A good example of someone who has done this with her blog and made it work is Kate/Wazz from Needled.com. Her blog used to be one I looked in on occasionally and felt jealous of all the wonderful things she was able to do and the beautiful places she went and lived (this has more to do with me and where I'm at than with her blog not being good - it was and is good). But since she had a stroke earlier this year (not something I would wish on anyone!) her blog has become a must-read, her account of recovery is compelling, human, real, something I can relate to and should be required reading for all doctors and health care professionals and politicians, but it is also richly creative and alive. I don't want my life to be subsumed by fibromyalgia and ME, in a way this blog is an account of that struggle to make my life about more than a series of diagnoses, as well as a way of coping.
One thing I am trying to learn is that certain way of seeing the good things in life, however small, that most contented people seem to have, Lucy from Attic24 (another blog) often seems to embody this elusive quality. It is a quality that sees as much good as possible in every situation, that rejoices in the beauties of our world, lives in the moment and savours that moment, not constantly discontent or wishing for something more or other or constantly worrying; I am working on this and praying about it, because I think it is deeply compatible with faith in Jesus and the peace He brings (see the end of Matthew 6).
Anyhow as usual I've gone on longer than I had intended, but here's to the next hundred posts, thank you for coming along with me.
Thinking about the things I like about the blogs I read a lot, the things that attract me to them is not just good writing, but also good photos and plenty of them, so I would like to improve my photographic skills and make my blog more picture orientated, though not to dilute the writing, but to complement it. Although this could be tricky as my camera is not currently working, it keeps saying there is a problem with the picture card; one of mine will now no longer work in the computer - irritatingly, as that is the card with all the pictures on it - the other is new and works in the computer but not the camera: even if I manage to mend it I would possibly like a camera upgrade. Mine is about five years old and my phone now has more mega-pixels.
In other news I'm working on my first pair of gloves with proper fingers and also the first ever vintage pattern I've knit, this pattern to be exact, in a gorgeous dark blue yarn from Abstract Cat crafts, dark blue with little hits and tones of turquoises just beginning to head into green, which I bought from folksy.com. The yarn is utterly gorgeous, though the dye is coming off on my hands a little; I'm going to be looking up how to fix dye once I've knit these gloves! The base yarn is as lovely as the colours and the fabric is firm but not stiff, with that "squish" and "sproing" you get with good wool yarn.
I'm not feeling fantastic this week, tired and crashing and trying not to be down. I am trying to rest it out and CBT myself when necessary, separate out all the things I'm thinking and work out why I'm thinking them and if they are valid. The problem is that the blank depressed down feeling is very familiar and in a strange way is a 'comfort zone' and I've got to make sure I don't just stay there because it's familiar, but be willing to push out of it and try new places and new experiences and feelings, because outside and beyond that zone are lots of lovely and exciting places to explore. Hopefully I'll get somewhere.
It might seem odd to have this mixture of personal stuff, encompassing mood and health and all sorts, in amongst the more traditional preoccupations of a craft blog, but my life isn't perfect and I want to be honest about that. My life is far from perfect, it isn't a feature in a lifestyle magazine, sometimes it's raw and messy and real and sometimes it's beautiful and joyful and creative and occasionally it's a mixture of them all at once. I've all too often felt intimidated or jealous (depending on my mood) by how perfect some people's lives seem, everything sorted out, life a series of wonderful events, but I know countless others for whom life just isn't like that and I want to be a voice out here in the wilds of the Internet for life as it is. A good example of someone who has done this with her blog and made it work is Kate/Wazz from Needled.com. Her blog used to be one I looked in on occasionally and felt jealous of all the wonderful things she was able to do and the beautiful places she went and lived (this has more to do with me and where I'm at than with her blog not being good - it was and is good). But since she had a stroke earlier this year (not something I would wish on anyone!) her blog has become a must-read, her account of recovery is compelling, human, real, something I can relate to and should be required reading for all doctors and health care professionals and politicians, but it is also richly creative and alive. I don't want my life to be subsumed by fibromyalgia and ME, in a way this blog is an account of that struggle to make my life about more than a series of diagnoses, as well as a way of coping.
One thing I am trying to learn is that certain way of seeing the good things in life, however small, that most contented people seem to have, Lucy from Attic24 (another blog) often seems to embody this elusive quality. It is a quality that sees as much good as possible in every situation, that rejoices in the beauties of our world, lives in the moment and savours that moment, not constantly discontent or wishing for something more or other or constantly worrying; I am working on this and praying about it, because I think it is deeply compatible with faith in Jesus and the peace He brings (see the end of Matthew 6).
Anyhow as usual I've gone on longer than I had intended, but here's to the next hundred posts, thank you for coming along with me.
Friday, 2 April 2010
Again it's been a long time since I last blogged, I must get into more of a habit of it. Life has been hectic lately, at least by my standards, lots of appointments with doctors, nurses, therapist, legal advisors etc. caused partly by a rather nasty infection and partly by my benefits appeal, which is next Thursday.
Next Thursday at 4pm hangs over me like a dread weight, a little like the anvil waiting to drop like in an old fashioned cartoon. Having to justify myself and defend why I need incapacity benefit and how I'm ill enough is horrible, I hate having to do it. I hate the 'game playing' that becomes involved and the need to bend the truth to fit their guidelines. I hate the rigidity of their system that makes no account of the things that really affect my ability to work - like how tired I am every day, day in day out. The 'fatigue' is what stops me from doing so much I long to do but I struggle to communicate this to the professionals who are trying to help (or hinder as their role entails...). Increasingly I'm being asked what job I want to do, am I going to continue any study, work related activities, volunteering and all the rest. But I don't currently have the energy to get a hair cut, or see my friends, or even go to church group, so where am I going to get the energy to do all these other things?
I am trying to trust God, because I know all things are in his hands, but I am struggling. I don't even know if the benefits are part of his provision for me or if he has some other plan. Another point of the benefits appeal that worries me is the truth; I've been told what to say - but some of it isn't 100% true, or is a blurring of the truth or being economical with it. To some extent some of this can't be helped - a system that judges you fit for work if you can watch tv for 30 minutes and follow what is happening means that sometimes you do need to be careful what you say. Some of this is also remembering what a worst day is like and talking about that, which is something I'm very bad at, I'm used to playing down how awful I feel, so this is all very counter-intuitive. But I do not want to lie outright, because as a follower of Jesus I want to be honest.
After I had been thinking about this yesterday I read that day's entry in Spurgeon's Faith's Chequebook and the words seemed to spring out of the page at me:
I don't know if I want to win this appeal, although it would bring a little bit of money into my life, which wouldn't be unwelcome, but it would also bring back all the 'pathways to work' interviews and extra demands. Additionally there is talk of how I should be applying for more benefits, including Disability Living Allowance, which I can't stand even to think about. It makes me feel like life isn't worth living, what's the point in all this? The sheer amount of stress, on top of feeling so ill makes life seem very unappealing. This is so bad for my mental health, the DWP make me feel worthless, guilty, useless and a fraud on a number of different levels (for example, for being able to knit and knitting so much). I hate this system, it feels like being kicked when you are down.
I feel like such a wimp making all this fuss.
Next Thursday at 4pm hangs over me like a dread weight, a little like the anvil waiting to drop like in an old fashioned cartoon. Having to justify myself and defend why I need incapacity benefit and how I'm ill enough is horrible, I hate having to do it. I hate the 'game playing' that becomes involved and the need to bend the truth to fit their guidelines. I hate the rigidity of their system that makes no account of the things that really affect my ability to work - like how tired I am every day, day in day out. The 'fatigue' is what stops me from doing so much I long to do but I struggle to communicate this to the professionals who are trying to help (or hinder as their role entails...). Increasingly I'm being asked what job I want to do, am I going to continue any study, work related activities, volunteering and all the rest. But I don't currently have the energy to get a hair cut, or see my friends, or even go to church group, so where am I going to get the energy to do all these other things?
I am trying to trust God, because I know all things are in his hands, but I am struggling. I don't even know if the benefits are part of his provision for me or if he has some other plan. Another point of the benefits appeal that worries me is the truth; I've been told what to say - but some of it isn't 100% true, or is a blurring of the truth or being economical with it. To some extent some of this can't be helped - a system that judges you fit for work if you can watch tv for 30 minutes and follow what is happening means that sometimes you do need to be careful what you say. Some of this is also remembering what a worst day is like and talking about that, which is something I'm very bad at, I'm used to playing down how awful I feel, so this is all very counter-intuitive. But I do not want to lie outright, because as a follower of Jesus I want to be honest.
After I had been thinking about this yesterday I read that day's entry in Spurgeon's Faith's Chequebook and the words seemed to spring out of the page at me:
Let the reader never for a moment attempt to help himself out of a difficulty by a falsehood or by a questionable act; but let him keep in the middle of the high road of truth and integrity, and he will be following the best possible course. In our lives we must never practice circular sailing nor dream of shuffling. Be just and fear not. Follow Jesus and heed no evil consequences. If the worst of ills could be avoided by wrongdoing, we should, in the very attempt, have fallen into an evil worse than any other ill could be. God's way must be the very best way. Follow it though men think you a fool, and you will be truly wise.So I'm doing my best to prepare, praying, trying to trust, trying not to go to pieces completely. These benefits have such a negative impact on my mental health, which is infuriating because I was just beginning to feel like I was getting somewhere with the CBT, beginning to feel more positive about myself, feeling pleased that I finally felt like I was recovering from the depression.
I don't know if I want to win this appeal, although it would bring a little bit of money into my life, which wouldn't be unwelcome, but it would also bring back all the 'pathways to work' interviews and extra demands. Additionally there is talk of how I should be applying for more benefits, including Disability Living Allowance, which I can't stand even to think about. It makes me feel like life isn't worth living, what's the point in all this? The sheer amount of stress, on top of feeling so ill makes life seem very unappealing. This is so bad for my mental health, the DWP make me feel worthless, guilty, useless and a fraud on a number of different levels (for example, for being able to knit and knitting so much). I hate this system, it feels like being kicked when you are down.
I feel like such a wimp making all this fuss.
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