To Message or not to Message

People who have read many of my blog entries will know that I usually write about introspective feelings, thoughts and emotions, but today I would like to write about something altogether different. I am going to talk about messaging today as I think it is a relatively new phenomena in a world which has known human civilisation for a couple of million years and until quite recently relied solely on voices and body language to engage in the ancient art of communication.

  Before the introduction of the humble telephone in the 1870s people could only communicate when standing directly in front or in shouting distance of another person and I imagine that this was a far simpler time for everyone involved. Once upon a century or so ago when a person took a walk to the local shops for a pint of milk they simply wandered out of the door, towards the shop and then once their transaction was complete they came home again. Things have changed. Nowadays when a person wants to purchase a pint of milk they tell Facebook about what they're going to do before they do it and no doubt photograph the milk whilst it is still in the fridge so that everyone can be aware of the milk that they are buying. It is important for those on our friends list to know that we are getting enough calcium. This photographing of the milk which I'm sure you are already aware is just a metaphor for all things social networking related and is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the cataclysmic set of problems that technology has seen fit to afford us in the modern day.

   … Enter.. the smart phone. I have a smart phone and I'm very fond of my smart phone but I think that for all of the ease of communication that my smart phone affords me, I would probably be better off without it. I remember those halcyon days when phones didn’t have colour screens and a camera was something new and exotic; things were definitely simpler in those days. I didn't have a smart phone and all I used my phone for was to exchange simple messages and phone calls about functional matters and then everything changed. My phone developed and went from being regular to smart and then to highly intelligent. My phone has a mind of its own now and it makes me doubt myself, it's always there flashing on and off, telling me who's read my messages and is now ignoring me. Or perhaps this reader is just busy and has every intention of replying at a more convenient time? But why not now I ask myself? Am I not important enough? Does my message not carry enough significance to make you abandon everything you're doing so that you can engage in a conversation with me about the state of the leggings on the person I just walked past?  Whatsapp used to be great for  avoiding this pattern of self doubt. Whatsapp didn't have a 'read' function and I liked it this way. Whatsapp has a 'read' function now (strange that this happened once Facebook took over it hey?) which means that in the shake of two little blue ticks you can go from feeling comfortable and secure to weird and irritable. Everyone's been there and no one likes it so why do we do it to ourselves? Why don't we insist that we would prefer it if those we are communicating with just got back to us in their own time without the pressure of little blue ticks, 'read' receipts, last seens, 'online nows' and the plethora of other methods we use to trick ourselves into feeling insecure.

  I am aware that I am saying 'I' and 'me' a lot. I'm not speaking about me particularly but more patterns and events I have witnessed over the last couple of years as communication becomes more and more widespread and life as we know it begins to change. I remember once when I was waiting to hear back about a job and I was frustrated because I was well aware that the giver of the job could easily send an email about it from their mobile phone. Why can't they just tell me? I wondered. Well the answer is simple, it just wasn't appropriate at that time. I got the job and all was fine but those few days waiting were a nightmare. The instancy of modern life began to be somewhat difficult in those few days. Everywhere we turn these days there's a new phone mast or an internet connection appearing somewhere bizarre so that we can check our emails halfway up a tree or post a selfie from the middle of the ocean. I would like to go back to a time when telephone calls were functional and read receipts and little blue ticks were still light years away. I don't like them, I don’t need them and to be quite honest I'd like it if Mr Technology could take it all away and leave me with the simpler life I had before. So then ladies and gents, should I ditch the genius phone when this contract runs out? Perhaps I should go and live in a tent, grow vegetables in an allotment and drink my water fresh from the river. I could have an entirely more natural and self sustainable life than the one I live now which appears to run on electronic communication. I could live in nature and send smoke siganls when I really need to talk to someone and you can bet I'd never feel even the slightest need to take a photograph of myself falling alseep and show it to the world.

  In conclusion… I don't think I'm really going to go and live in the middle of nowhere, ditch my smart phone and teach myself how to build a fire from scratch but I would like more information from whoever created all of this technology on how best to use it and more importantly when to use it. Should it be functional or should it be leisurely? Should I have my phone with me all of the time or should I feel okay about leaving it at home? I guess the whole point of this little rant of mine has been to simply say that I don't know why on God's green earth a person needs to know everything about everything. Where has the mystery gone? Where is the intrigue? Why does New Zealand feel like it's next door to Spain when it is actually just over a day away? Take me back to a time when the world was mysterious, unknown and less electronic… says I, Helen who is posting this onto the interweb. Hypocritical no?

Homeward Bound

Just two weeks ago I wrote about future plans and happenings. I was having a 'where am I going?' moment. I appear to have made my mind up about what I'm doing and where I'm going now.

2.5 years ago I decided to embark on a TEFL course and get myself a teaching qualification, we all know why. The CELTA certificate which I obtained has enabled me to work in Greece, Spain, Cheltenham, Ascot and Oxford and my oh my what a journey it's been. I've met people I never dreamed I'd find... Wonderful Greek girls who changed my perception of a nation, so many English speakers who've each added a stitch to the material of my TEFL experience and those of a Latino disposition who've welcomed me to their country and helped me survive their language and create a place for myself within their culture. I've been to places from travel guides with my visitors and made a home away from home in an enchanting Southern Spanish city which I can only describe as fabulous. 

The last 2.5 years have been up, down and inspiring. They've enabled me to lay the ghosts of the past to rest and learn to embrace the present under the glowing warmth of the Mediterranean sun. I have become a teacher and been known as Miss Helen, Meez, Elen, Elena and Heleeeeen, señora, Kiria and sometimes Teacher. The English language has been opened to me and now I know just what a relative clause is as well as the meaning, form and pronunciation of the all confusing conditional sentences. In short, I have had my mind opened wide to the possibilities of the world and all thanks to the language I've been learning since I was a baby. Never have the words, 'you were always just around the corner' rung quite so true. It turns out that the answer to my prayers was in my voice box all along. 

Things often don't last forever and even the most wonderful of events and patterns have an end. TEFL as my main income has begun to reach its final destination. The train is still 6 months away but it will reach it and when it does I am going to get off and bid it the fondest farewell as I wave it on to save the next life it picks up and speeds away to better days. 

I shall be heading back to university in the country of my birth and land of ancestors. The skies above contain the memories of those I've loved and lost and I can be sure that the promise of a familial face is but a train ride away. I am going to start chasing another dream now that I'm satisfied I have made this one come true, one chapter approaches its end as another looks forward to its beginning. 

Live strong, think healthily and teach :-)

Making Sense

I have spent a considerable amount of time in my life trying to make sense of things that don’t make any sense to me. I have concluded that very little makes any sense and that’s just the way it is. In the past I have tried to find my sense from the heavens above, the ground below and the people around. I have also tried to find sense within myself but then realised that I was simply internalizing all of the unhealthy things I was inclined to feel and that in turn didn’t help either. Making sense of things can be and is a very difficult thing to do and making sense of things on our own isn’t always beneficial to us achieving the very best we can.

 I am living alone for the first time in my life and so far I’m finding it to be a cathartic experience. I am enjoying putting things in their rightful place and mooching about doing things in my own time. I am very much at a ‘what next’ place in my life. I quite honestly don’t know what to do next; I’ve told myself that I’m staying in Spain until June of 2016. (My phone contract runs out then and I’m quite simply not paying Yoigo a small fortune like I did with Vodafone before I upped sticks and moved to España.) I entertained thoughts in the summertime of returning to England after this year is out. I quite like England I thought to myself… but I quite like Spain as well and I reckon I’d also quite like Japan. I’ve often wondered about doing a PGCE and working as a teacher either secondary or primary, I’ve also considered doing a Master’s in some form of creative writing which could enable me to go after the career I’ve always wanted. I’d have to do these things in England and England is the place of breakdowns and bad weather but then on the other hand it is also the place of the forever love of my family and my beloved City of Liverpool. I can walk around Liverpool and know exactly who works in that shop and the best place to find the very best tights. I know which supermarket sells my favourite type of bread and I know that there is a welcoming aunty to be found around every corner and also in the skies above. My beach stretches along the coast of Crosby and the Sainsbury’s clock in the town centre has been broken since I was 9 years old, these are both things which are both familiar and comforting to me. My dad can be found pottering around our back garden and Specky Dave can be found spouting his adorable nonsense in Stamps Bar & Bistro. When I go home I am surrounded by people who say ‘heyyyyyy Helen! When did you get back?’ and when I get back I feel very safe and sound, like I am in the place I am supposed to be in. Bold Street, Wood Street, Lord Street, they run through my veins like I used to run through their streets as a teenager. Primark too, a place where I’m guaranteed to find familiar faces and then there’s the docks carrying their memories of times long gone and best forgotten. You can guarantee that a memory will flash up somewhere wherever I am in Liverpool and when you have a brain that has largely organised itself on how best to self protect and keep away harm this can be a little alarming. Nevertheless, it’s still home and home it will always be, despite the rain and the cold.

 My current thing that I’m trying to make sense of is making sense of where my home actually is. I’ve been listening to Blood Brothers and other Scouse accenty things lately. The voices are very soothing and they remind me of everything I have always known. They also remind me that everything I know is beginning to change and I am becoming more accustomed to somewhere else and somewhere else’s customs. But what about my own customs? What’s happened to them? Will they stay with me or will they go somewhere else? Am I am expatriate now or just a Briton living abroad? I daresay these things will become more clear as time goes on but today I can’t help but wonder. Who am I and where should I be?

Clearing The Slate

  Starting again is something everyone likes to do sometimes. I know I like a fresh start every now and again. A fresh start can be a change of e-mail address, a new phone number, a house move or emigration. Sometimes a new start is the end of a relationship or the beginning of a new one or perhaps a new job. Fresh starts are the chance to clear the slate and start anew. I like to think of them as giving ourselves a second chance to correct past mistakes and improve on our futures.

 

  Four years ago I ended a relationship with a steady and dependable man in favour of a less steady and dependable life. I didn’t like the way my life was going and I didn’t think that the relationship suited me very well, so off I wandered into pastures new. I really didn’t have the first idea about what was to befall me in these new pastures. I have endured 4 years of tumultuous emotions which only seem to have truly settled in recent weeks. I developed coping mechanisms borne out of negative happenings and as a result the years which followed my break up have not gone according to plan, looking back I don’t really know how I managed to have any sort of life at all. I have gotten far too used to anticipating the worst in myself, others and situations. I have spent the best part of 4 years devoid of hope and optimism, haunted by the ghosts of the past and unable to see the lights illuminating the paths of the present.

 

  Everything reached a sudden and dramatic halt on December 30^th when I found myself feeling like I couldn’t take another minute. I made the decision to go to the hospital and visit the mental health crisis team; I firmly believe that this service saved my life. Had I not had them to go to I really don’t know what would have happened. I appreciate that this is a strong statement and may alarm some people who care for me but I urge you not to be upset. I fully acknowledge that it is hard to stomach and causes upset but if people with my problems don’t come forward and talk about them then you can guarantee that someone, somewhere else will pay for our silence and I can’t have that so I have decided to be vocal about my depression and the impact it has had on me.

 

  So there I was; feeling like I was going slightly mad in floods of tears in a busy NHS waiting room the night before New Year’s Eve 2013. I was prescribed some medication which I take every day and I have also been completing an online Cognitive Behavioural Therapy course (CBT). This new fangled CBT has been making more of a difference to my thought patterns than I ever believed possible and its results are visible to everyone. I seem to have broken out of my negative cycle and I am now able to talk to others rather than shy away, I like being in social situations rather than sitting there praying for them to be over and the anxiety which plagued me has begun to ebb away into a state of nothingness leaving a rainbow glowing in colour in its wake. I didn’t believe a state of mind like this was a long term possibility for me and it is a bigger relief than anyone could ever imagine. I’ve discovered support in people new to my life and support in those who are long term fixtures but live far away. I’ve found support in myself and a belief that I can sustain my new frame of mind for an extended period of time beyond the foreseeable future. It’s just a bloody miracle and I’m grateful for it every day.

 

  I’ve got good people around me and a good life ahead of me. I’m learning to live in the moment and worry less about the past and the future. It is now apparent to me that the past has been and gone and the effect it had and was echoed through my thinking has lost its power and control over the present day me. In the simplest of terms… I have cleared the slate and moved on, both mentally and physically. The demons of the past have moved aside and let the magical entities of the present and the future guide the way forward through the miracle of life.

Jam buttie vs Victoria Sponge - It's the little things that count.

 I have found that in life we often spend a lot of time making time for the big things as we focus on holidays, promotions, new cars and so on and so forth whilst the little things fall aside in significance. It has come to my attention that this is not a good idea because the little things are in actual fact the bread and butter of our lives. The little things get us through whilst we wait for the big things to make their cumbersome way around the corer. The little things are the sprightly moments which make up our days and I don’t think that we pay them enough attention.

  Case in point: mugs. I don’t know about you but I drink a fair amount of tea and coffee. I like to have a couple of nice mugs so that this very regular experience is never a sub standard one. Tea or coffee drunk out of a nice mug makes this every day particular somewhat better and upgrades the level of the experience. The same can be said for meal times; why have a substandard meal when the inclusion of Dill on your eggs can improve it and make you feel like you’ve had a little treat?

  I came to this conclusion a few years ago when I was overcoming the effects of a very unpleasant depressive episode. I had been in crisis mode for a little while and I had stopped enjoying anything and was living mostly on toast and wine. It wasn’t great really and nothing had much joy in it. As the depressive episode eased away and I started to eat properly again, I developed a great amount of interest in cooking and using food to get myself back to good health. It was while I was doing this that I became aware of my enjoyment in making a cup of tea, using nice bath time products and ironing my clothes for work. While I was undertaking my on stage role in my depressive episode I had forgotten that actual living exists, I had simply been existing and doing the absolute minimum to get me through each day. I started to return to some semblance of normality and I began to enjoy myself, daily life didn’t feel like a monotonous road to nowhere anymore. I realised that I liked doing the food shopping, I liked running out for a pint of milk, I liked waiting for a bus, and I enjoyed opening the curtains in the morning and then closing them at night. This curtain ritual meant the start and end of days I was not desperate to be over, I could actually find them pleasant and this was a new feeling to me. Life was normal and for the first time in my life I was content with living a normal, every day life. I was going to university and I had my part time weekend job, for a time things were very steady and I had a nice and regular flow to my life.

  I have made it clear that I have depression and sometimes ‘episodes’ occur and it all becomes quite dramatic until it becomes intolerable and I have to do something about it. I have found that living for the little things helps to keep these episodes at bay. I spend my time looking forward to the things I know will happen and I can count on them. Big things will come along as they always do and when they come along they are lovely, but life is not a Victoria Sponge. Life is bread and butter and the little things are the jam which makes the whole thing that little bit sweeter. I think we should all aim to have lovely jam so that when the Victoria Sponge has been eaten and only the crumbs are left we still have our jam buttie to fall back on for comfort until the next big cake makes its way around the corner.

Our Sweet

  Eight Christmas Nights ago, I walked into my aunty's house and my grandparents were grieving past themselves. They'd had to go through the worst year of their lives and were left reeling after losing two sons separately, in 2005. It was a horrible time and Christmas Night 2005 reflected the sadness everyone had felt all year. Gradually things began to improve and Christmasses since have been happier, Christmas lights crept back up the trees and eventually returned to my Nana and Granddad's faces.

 Christmas can be a happy time or a sad time and my family has had its share of both. This year is joyful; food aplenty, heating switched on, thoughtful presents exchanged and traditions observed. I enjoy that about Christmas, each year follows the same timetable and it's a comfort to me, something to enjoy and look forward to again as Christmas Eve becomes Christmas Day and then Christmas Day becomes Boxing Day. 365 days later we'll be doing the same things and reminiscing about the Christmasses gone before... which bring me back to Christmas Day 2005.

 I understand that we can't all pick ourselves back up and not everyone is blessed with my Nana's happy and cheerful disposition but I'm so glad that I have been able to watch her and learn from her as the years have gone by. My nana never says no, her heart is always open and she will try her best at anything once. My Nana lights up rooms and she is quite honestly the spirit of Christmas all year round. This woman doesn't need December to give and she won't stop when January comes round. I can guarantee that in February she'll still be demanding that her guests sit on the comfortable seats when they visit. Of course, she doesn't do these things alone, she has a partner in life and together they give love to each other and their children, sons and daughter in law and grandchildren each and every day.

 I won't go on for too much longer. My point is that we don't have to be taken over by Christmas spirit to do something nice or let go and try something new. I've been lucky, I've had excellent examples of love and compassion for my whole life and the examples haven't gone unnoticed. We don't need to feel festive to feel kind and we don't need to be eating and spending to excess to realise that others are less fortunate. If I were to have one New Years resolution, it would be to learn from the examples I have been shown and use them as a code for living a better and more fulfilling life.

 I wish you all a lovely Christmas week and a very happy New Year.

Not Off Bypass Yet

 Living with depression is often an unbearable activity on a bad day. The person who lives with depression must devise a list of coping mechanisms and this list must be abided by because if it is not abided by then the chances of things becoming unpleasant are high.

My list includes exercise, healthy food and a job I can engross myself in. Under no circumstances am I allowed to go anywhere near a man, this is an important one. I can't be put in a position where I am vulnerable and this is something I've spent the last year or so coming to terms with.

 The day I realised that I am too damaged to be anyone's girlfriend was a sad one for me. The reason for this reluctance is down to the equilibrium I hold so dear to my heart. I was unable to see a light for a long time, normal life was too hard for me to contemplate and I had to begin all over again emotionally. I learned to enjoy the simple things first and opted to enjoy making tea, watching TV and going for the bus. Time moved on and I started to enjoy seeing friends and cooking. I was feeling brilliant until NYE 2010 and I took my eye away from the light which was getting brighter by the day. It was an epic mistake because when I looked back again the light had gone out and it months and months to get my eyes strong enough to be able to look at it. Since I became able to see the light again, keeping my eyes focussed on it has become my priority and the sheer fear about what might happen if I let anything stand between me and the light is too great a caution for me to consider anything else.

 I very much hope that this particular anxiety will ease one day and I will be able to walk slowly into the arms of someone who might be able to give me the space I need to think straight and the interest in getting to know someone with more issues than The Independent. Life can be both beautiful and sad at the same time and for those of us who live each day in 2 different frames of mind this is often true at Christmas time.

 Christmas is my favourite season of the year. I love the lights, the events, the decorations and general merriment. However, Christmas is also a time when we remember what we were doing the year before and this can be sobering. I have come a long way in the year just passed. New job, new friends and a healthier lifestyle have all had a positive impact on me but the depression lingers on, reminding me of times gone by and never letting me forget that should Mr Right come along I am likely to find it impossible to accept that he is Mr Right and probably wouldn't let him rescue me even if he wanted to.

  I have become far too self sufficient for my own good, I fell off the horse almost 2 years ago and now I won't get back on. I don't feel negative, I feel as though I have achieved a lot in a short space of time and like I should be proud of it. I hope to be able to one day have emotions as strong as my belief in my own capabilities as far as work and health go. At the time of writing I am still a little bruised and the depression and anxiety I have always felt doesn't help. In basic terms I am unwilling to leave my comfort zone. It isn't easy to write this and the thought of posting it is daunting but if it reaches someone else in some far flung corner of the world then I'd like you to know that you're not the only one who's frightened of ending up right back where you started when you took your hand away from theirs, put it in your pocket and walked away . People like us have had our hearts taken away and put into storage while we wait to feel strong enough to make them beat again on our own; we won't stay on bypass forever but we can't run before we walk either. We need to give ourselves time, be patient and keep on enjoying making tea and walking for the bus until our heart's beat independently again.