Little
things please little minds.
Not that my
mind is especially little, but it does tend to get quite crowded so that’s
suggestive of some pretty cramped headspace. Or maybe there’s ample space but
there’s too many foreign thoughts coming over here, taking up too much room and
living off the system.
Whatever the
case, some days it’s like a cover of a favourite book of mine by Harry
Harrison, which depicts loads of weird characters crammed into a sardine can as
the title above proclaims, Make Room!
Make Room!
Emotionally,
this month has been as changeable as July weather. And this time of year the
ice gets pretty thin as I skate around my various projects, plans and daily
routine. As with previous months, I’ve had to take some care to identify what
is depression and what is merely the downward mood shift brought on by the
pressure of all those foreign thoughts.
Over the
years, I’ve had plenty of experience in identifying the Black Dog, but even now
there are times when external sources trespass and blur the tracks. And
inevitably there are occasions when a single upsetting news story can fuel the
depression. You can’t prevent the thoughts from entering, but perhaps I should
wear a sign on my forehead: DO NOT FEED THE ANIMAL.
For me, this
month was all about a new chapter in life. A solo spin-off, as I described it.
In those terms, I wouldn’t call it a resounding success, but like a lot of
pilot episodes it has the makings of something promising, just needs more work
and maybe even a whole season before it properly finds its feet.
In terms of
my writing, it’s been more a case of working towards things than working on
anything specifically. The first half of the month was nevertheless very busy –
with various admin and practicalities to attend to (changes of domestic status
translates into a surprising amount of paperwork and so on). Busy-ness is definitely
a decent defence against the Black Dog, but you have to be wary of the quiet
spells between. Because busy-ness can also be a lot like pretending nothing’s
amiss.
Quite often,
a successful, productive and creative morning would be followed by a mini
meltdown at home. And there was the one evening I was out to celebrate my
sister’s birthday, having a grand time, loads of laughs and then – whoosh, out
of nowhere, breaking down in tears and seriously diluting my pint. Luckily,
friends and family don’t judge nearly as much as I do myself. Phew.
I think in
the first week of separation, I’d sort of convinced myself my wife was only
‘away for a bit’ and might be back at the weekend. Amid my efforts to notify
the local council and others of my change of circumstances, I forgot to
properly notify myself. That old river, denial, she keeps rolling on.
Anyway, that
was a bit of a turning point, because with my own birthday impending I awarded
myself a break. Still juggling one or two creative endeavours along the way,
but nowhere near as busy. A lovely micro-holiday away, change of scenery in the
company of a very dear friend. World of good.
Sharp-eyed followers of my
serialised short fiction blog will have noticed an interrupted schedule – my
disciplined one-episode-a-week approach has faltered, but we’re still in the
game and normal service will be resumed. Some days it’s just been beyond me to
write even a paltry 500 words, other days it’s been well within my capabilities
but it’s been more important just to switch off and do something more practical
instead.
One facet of
solo life that strikes immediately is a sudden lengthening of the days that has
nothing to do with the summer. There’s way more time to fill. Unfortunately,
that came accompanied with a loss of interest in all manner of entertainments –
films, music, TV, video games, reading – a lot of my usual comforts lost appeal
for a while. I’ve trained myself out of that particular slump, thankfully,
sometimes forcing myself to watch a movie, for example, even a rubbish one.
Because there’s some therapeutic value, I guess, in generating negative
thoughts about something other than yourself.
Well, I’m no
psychologist, so can’t guess how that works, but it helped. And I’m
rediscovering my enthusiasm for all those things I previously enjoyed without
any effort. I have some fun rewatches and marathons planned.
And all of
that will have the added benefit of helping me to cut down on my news intake.
Quite apart
from the direct and personal stuff that affects me, I’m aware of the degree of
damage that can be done just by keeping up to date with national and global
events.
Interestingly,
a Facebook friend of mine only recently professed to a measure of guilt he felt
at isolating himself from the daily diet of news stories to which most of us
subject ourselves. No man is an island, after all, and we all like to feel a
sense of connection to the world around us.
All too easy
to identify with his situation. I have to allow myself periods of news
deprivation. Self-protection can feel selfish and, yes, you may experience some
guilt as a side-effect. But in a world where not a day goes by without someone
preying on something or someone – be it beautiful wildlife, the environment,
the poor and socially disadvantaged,
racial and ethnic groups, the list goes on – it’s tough to endure that constant
assault on your compassion.
Care too
much and exposing yourself to that becomes a slow kind of self-harm. You can’t
stop caring like you can stop smoking, and if you feel a need to retreat into
your shell and enter a sort of waking hibernation, safe from the harsh cold of
current affairs, then give yourself that. And ignore any guilt that might come pawing
at the door. It’s likely to be a friend of the Black Dog.
Meanwhile,
as I said at the outset, little things please little minds.
Today, for
example, I’m feeling reasonably upbeat. The aftereffects of a good night out at
the weekly pub quiz, topped off by a tidy little jackpot win. Money can’t buy
you happiness, but a modest windfall like that can at least ease a bit of
financial anxiety. And in any case a win feels good.
I’ve learned
the value of celebrating the small triumphs, the little victories. So while the
effects of external negatives can be disproportionate, I can also make more of
external positives. The trick, I suppose, is learning not to depend on them –
because, let’s face it, they don’t always crop up as often as the negatives –
but there’s something to be said for milking them for all their worth.
When I give
my cats kitty treats they scoff them like little furry vacuum cleaners, bless.
When I give myself treats or life happens to throw one my way, I owe it to
myself to savour them a bit.
It’s a
lesson I’ve learned repeatedly. Because although my mind is probably not in
fact little, it has a tendency to misplace important things like that. So it’s
a lesson I need to hold onto as we head on into August.
No matter
how much progress you feel you’re making or perhaps feel you’re not making,
there’s one thing that’s always worth bearing in mind.
Every day is
training day.
SAF 2015
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