The Demon returns…

11 05 2012

Winter Sunrise

I have recently had my antidepressant changed, and while the Doctor assured me that there wouldn’t be any of the hassles like when you first start taking them, I have really been feeling very flat – two dimensional and wondering why I really don’t care!

It took me a couple of days to recognise it, but the darkness was lurking in the background, but I have found that focusing on something else does help to ease it, and get  me back into the light.

I have recently signed up as a Leadership Representative in my Avon business and working at building a team underneath me.  Actually going out and interacting with the public is the LAST THING I feel like doing, but smiling and making small talk does help me to move back into the light.  It helps me to focus on something other than myself and my hopelessness, which is how I feel when I don’t have anything else on.

But I am not burying my head in the sand, because I am tired too, so I am not pushing myself.  I have every second day off and just focus on homelife, tidying up, watching funny programmes on the telly, and just giving myself some peace.

All of these things are working for me, and slowly, so p a i n f u l l y  s l o w l y I am getting better.

I only want to keep taking the antidepressant to get me through the winter, then I hope to come out into the spring with a bright new outlook and able to cope without the medication.  Fingers crossed this all comes together!


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Actions Speak Louder than Words

7 05 2012

My beloved teaching our son how to ride a motorbike.

Sometimes words just don’t seem to say enough.  I can’t express enough to my husband how much I love him – I can only show him.  I can tell him “I love you” but the words seem hollow when they are said.  It doesn’t truly express the deep and profound affection that I feel for my beloved.

This week has been a tough one.  Words have failed me on a couple of occasions, especially on Thursday when we farewelled young Sarah.  My thoughts have drifted to what I could say to the mother, to console her, but in all honesty, nothing I say will suffice.  It would sound corny and contrite, and that isn’t what I want, so I have decided to let my actions speak.  I plan on doing some baking and making some casseroles and deliver them to her so that she has plenty of food to keep her and her family going for the next few days.  Hopefully this will express to her my deepest feelings, and let her know that she is surrounded by love and comfort.

After the service I had quite a big cry, I had to, I had to let it go, and this was the only chance I would get.  I cried hard for the little girl who didn’t get to live her life, for her parents who would have a gaping wound in their hearts, for her brothers, her friends and extended family, and the community at large.

And that is what has impressed me the most through this week.  The way the community has got beside and behind the family and shown them their support and encouragement, love and peace.  And I am privileged to live in such a community that isn’t afraid to come together in times of trials and support each other.

So this week, here is my challenge to you.  Don’t say something contrite or off hand.  Do it.  Carry out the action – make a batch of scones, go and have a coffee with someone, go and visit a friend you haven’t seen in a while, take a bunch of handpicked flowers to your mother, have a round of golf with your father.  Just do something instead of saying it.  Words can be empty, actions are not.


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Another Angel in Heaven

30 04 2012

There is a strange pall over the village.  Tragedy has struck and everyone is affected in one way or another.  I did not know the family personally, but I knew them to say hello to.

Yesterday, one of the school children was killed in a motorcycle accident.   And all I can think about is the pain that the mother must be suffering.  I can’t begin to understand that pain, which makes me hurt more for her.

The little girl was an angel, such a beautiful child.  I last saw her on Friday when I was walking my son to school.  Her older brother was frantically pushing his scooter along the footpath, his sister pedalling like a mad woman on a bike too small for her to try and catch up.  She always said hello and had a smile for everyone.  Now that smile is gone.  She is in heaven with the other angels, but that is no consolation for her mother, father or brothers.

It made me think about how precious my son is, and what I would feel if anything should happen to him, and it was beyond comprehension.  I think I would rather die than have to live with that pain.  I am trying not to dwell on it, because I know that it could very easily drag me back into depression.  I have to be thankful that it wasn’t my son, but then I feel guilty for thinking that when a mother has lost a child.

So, to the little angel, enjoy heaven.  To her earthbound family, my sincerest condolences and my thoughts and prayers are with you at this extremely painful time.


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Support from Unexpected Quarters.

23 04 2012

Kawatiri - other side of the tunnel

Depression has been something plaguing my life for the best part of six months officially (unofficially it would probably be about three or four years – more if you ask my husband).  And while some of my posts haven’t made a lot of sense, I am finding myself at the other side, looking back into the dark pit that was my Summer.

And I got support from a lot of people.  My bestie Rachael, my Mum, my husband, (once he accepted I wasn’t mentally insane), my stepdad (also a fellow sufferer).

What surprised me the most though, was the fellow bloggers who have made such positive and encouraging comments on my posts.  Some didn’t understand, but I never asked them to.  I appreciated the encouragement, and the smiles that I got because someone cared enough to tell me they thought I was a good person, or was making progress.

Special mention here should go to J C Hart, James Garcia and Kerryn Angell.  I also have to mention LaVerne Clark and Cherie Le Clare, both of whom contacted me via email or phone, just to check I was doing OK.

If you meet someone, or have a friend who is shutting themselves away from you, make that phone call, ring them, tell them you are thinking of them and ask if they want to go out for a coffee.  If they don’t, just chat to them about anything, books, food, anything.  Just let them know that you are thinking of them.  Because that really does help.

And I am so grateful to those wonderful people who made the effort to comment, ring, or email me to say hello.  They really have made my healing a lot easier.


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Writers Block Vs Forced Writing

16 04 2012

Bangs Head on Desk by Tolan88 @ deviantart

Depression has really knocked my writing, and it is 8 months since I wrote anything of substance.  I have edited, but not written.

And I know that there are probably some people out there who are just thinking – “writers block”.

And I might have agreed with them, up until two months ago.

I have been writing, rather piecemeal, little bits on this story, a chapter on that story, back to the first story, but nothing really feels right.  Instead I feel like I am forcing myself to write.  This isn’t writers block.  Writers block is where you can’t write!  I can, I just don’t like it.

I know this makes more sense to me than it probably does to you, but I will try and simplify it down for you.

Everyone knows what Writers Block is – right?  (For those that don’t, Writer’s block is a condition, primarily associated with writing as a profession in which an author loses the ability to produce new work. (Thanks Wikipedia))

I can write.  I can write new stuff, it just doesn’t feel right, or sit with what I am doing.  I have days where I want to write, and will do so happily, but if I try too hard, it doesn’t seem right.  I still keep it though, because it might come in handy!

So my problem really is, that the urge to write just doesn’t happen as frequently as I would like, and that is frustrating the hell out of me.  I want to write, but when I sit at my laptop, unless I am really in the space and groove, writing is forced and doesn’t come out the way I want it to.

Maybe I am being too perfectionist about my writing?  But then I seem to feel rather down and flat if I force myself to do something I don’t want to do, so why force myself to write something that isn’t coming together for me.

I feel better for getting this out into the blogosphere, and I am slowly picking up the pieces.  Tonight I have actually done some research on Blood Gold, copying old Newspaper articles in the hopes that something might come of it.


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Lesson Learned

9 04 2012

Hidden Cafe, Motueka Valley Highway, NZ

Last Thursday, I had a great start tothe day.  I decided to dig up half of my garden and plant some seeds in the hopes that some plants might come up before winter sets in.  It was a very industrious morning and I felt happy with the outcome.  As a treat (and because Friday was Good Friday), I went up to my favourite cafe with my laptop.

That was my mistake.

By the time I got home, I was feeling very flat and not terribly happy.  While I was at the Cafe, I had forced myself to write.  And that was my problem.  I had to force myself.  What I wrote was OK, but writing just isn’t something I really want to do at present.  And I had made myself do something I didn’t want to do.

Today, as I write this, it is clear as day.  At the time, it took me a while to figure out what the problem was.  I need to give myself the time and space to do what I want to do when I want to do it, and I knew, before I went to the cafe, that I should probably have taken a book to read instead.  But no.  I forced myself to take my laptop and made myself miserable instead.

Lesson learned.

The school holidays are upon me, so a lot of editing won’t be going on, but that is OK.  I think I need to read for a while anyway, and I have Matt Hammond‘s second book to Beta read, and I am enjoying that very much.

And I will take it gently on myself, and not force myself to do something I don’t want to do.  Because if I don’t enjoy it, it will only bring me down again.  Albeit temporarily.


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Confidence = 0%

26 03 2012

I have been working on Ice Planet lately, which is my 2011 SoCNoC novel that I lost half of when my laptop crashed.  I have spent most of this month editing it, and trying to work out what I had put in the original so that I can finish it.

While I was out walking the other day, I made a significant discovery.  I am afraid of writing.

I am presuming that this is from the fact that I haven’t written anything in quite some time, and while I would love to start writing, I am scared that it won’t be the same, that I won’t be able to capture the beauty that I already have down on paper and instead make it rather mediocre.

Depression is a funny beast, the way that it has interacted with me and my head.  Some things are coming back to me, like dreaming, but they are much weirder than the used to be, and I have had quite a few naked dreams in the last few weeks, something I have never  done before.  I know that the naked dreams are that you are feeling vulnerable, and I am wondering, as I write, if this is to do with my writing?  Perhaps that is what I am feeling so anxious about, and my brain is translating this during the night time.

The only way I can get over this is to actually write I guess, but it is a hard thing to try and bring myself back to.  I will just have to bite the bullet and do it, which I don’t mind doing, but it is taking a real effort to make the time.

I guess, I really have to stop talking about it and start doing it, right?


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DiStRaCtIoNs

12 03 2012

Oh boy, there have been a few of them lately, and one in particular at the moment.  My son is constantly standing at my shoulder if I even think about writing a post or even doing something on facebook.   ARRRRRRGH!

Seriously, I have embarked on a large undertaking, editing two stories at once, and I almost feel myself slipping back into old patterns, and feeling the familiar twinges of downness.  Why?  I honestly don’t know, but I suspect it has something to do with perhaps taking too big a bite of my projects in one go.  Putting too much pressure on myself to achieve something.

I have allowed myself only an hour a day, and really enjoying it when I do, but I can always find other things around the house that need to be done.  The washing needs to be hung out, the floor needs vacuuming, facebook needs to be checked, and it has gotten serious enough for me to consider cleaning the oven or, heaven forbid, the fridge!

I think I have to clear my head and get my sight back in.  I am doing the editing because I want to.  It isn’t a chore that has to be done.  But perhaps I also need to do some housework before editing so I can set my mind at ease.

I haven’t been reading much lately either, and this is because I brought Season 10 of CSI:LV, so I have to watch that.  I finished it this morning, so tonight, I am going to open up a good old fashioned book and read it.  Do something that I love to do (I do liketo watch CSI as well!).

I am wondering if perhaps my schedule is being too tight.  I will get the 20 hours done this month, but I think I will not be so rigid on myself and if I don’t get the stories edited, I won’t stress about it.  That can happen next month.  It took me 2 months to Edit Medusa after all!


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KiwiWriters Blogging Week – Day Three

21 02 2012

So many of you are probably wondering who I am.  I am a writer, a mother, a reader, a friend, a reviewer, a wife, a gardener, a creator – there are lots of labels for me.  But I had a new one last year.

Depressed.

I have suffered from it for a while, but during Winter 2011, I really crashed, and could no longer go on.  It affected my writing, my desires, my dreams and my goals.  It affected my relationships with those around me, because a lot of them didn’t know what was going on. I had hidden it so well beneath the smiles and friendly gestures, that no one knew what I was suffering inside.

Now depression isn’t about sitting around and bawling your eyes out.  For me, it was a case of feeling nothing.  I wanted to cry, but I couldn’t.  I wanted to laugh, but I couldn’t.  I didn’t find anything interesting anymore.  Life was just grey.

Depression affects many people in many different ways.  This is how it affected me.  My mind went.  I could no longer remember things, I have had to start writing important dates and appointments  on my calendar or else I would forget them.  My enthusiasm took a dive.  I no longer wanted to get tea ready by lunchtime.

I didn’t want to write, I didn’t want to edit, I didn’t want to look at my computer.  And that was the hardest thing, because my computer, my writing, had been my release for so long.  But then I no longer had the motivation to write, nothing inspired me, nothing seemed interesting or colourful anymore.

It has been a slow process which has involved medication and counselling, but I am finally seeing light at the end of the tunnel.  While I still don’t have the desire to write, I am editing, which is something.  And I had a few stories that needed to be worked on, and maybe this year is the year of me getting my arse into gear and facing up to the fact that perhaps I was scared of rejection, that perhaps my stories aren’t good enough to get published… but how will I know unless I get them out there?  I can’t get it rejected without submitting something, right?

So, life is slowly returning to normal – not that I know what normal is, but things are returning to how it used to be.  Writing will come back into my life, and I have been coming up with story ideas, so I won’t let that stop me from writing again.


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Not promised tomorrow…

13 02 2012

This week has been a bit of an eye opener for me.  Firstly I have made some significant steps towards getting better, mentally.  And I have also made some big steps in my editing.

I think last week I spoke about cutting the word “was” down, and I have gone from 900 odd, down to 547, and I still have 7 chapters to go in editing Medusa.   I have stumbled on Chapter nine, which is where she turns men to stone, because I want this to be different.  I want them to be petrified, but run away, and it is proving a little harder than I thought, because I am writing from her point of view, not theirs, so it is hard to describe what she looks like when you are looking through her eyes!  I have to try and reflect the horror and terror in their eyes, faces, body posture etc (see, I knew by writing this I would find a solution).

I have also started making shorter chapters, about 3 – 5 pages each, and I think this will help with the flow of the story.  Once I have finished the edits, I will have a quick read through then send out to some readers, because I want to get this off my desk!

Health wise, I made some big steps towards recovery and taking my power back.  It is surprising just how much I gave away and then wondered why I felt so drained.  I am only functioning on a day to day basis – people ask me what I am doing in the weekend, and I just shrug – still trying to get through this day!  And I have a calendar on my wall with all my appointments and important dates noted down, because if I don’t, I will miss an appointment.  I just can’t get my head to focus on lots of things like I used to, but that isn’t a bad thing.  It is nice to just focus on one day at a time, because I was never promised tomorrow.

Sounds like a strange statement to make, but I haven’t.  I have to live each day, live it to the best of my abilities and to the fullest, otherwise, it is a wasted day.  And this has really helped with my mental state of mind.  Keeping each day separate, only planning things for that day, and working through that day, and if necessary, things will spill over to tomorrow, but that is OK.  There was a saying that I really like, and it is so true now.

“Today is the tomorrow you worried about yesterday.”

Since focusing on one day at a time, I find that I no longer have time to worry about tomorrow, tomorrow might not even come.  But at least I have today.


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