Departure lounge

This week was always going to be a week of goodbyes.

After my sister’s wedding last week (photos to follow!!) my cousin, one of the bridesmaids, flew out to France for an open dated holiday in her favourite country on earth. Having been there before and having good French language skills, she is planning to spend this holiday off the beaten track. We’ll miss her at our weekly gathering point, Grandma’s fabulous Sunday lunch roast and dessert! More for us!

Then of course, my newlywed baby sister and her hubby are flying back to Latvia today! I say back because that’s where he was born and grew up. Their plan is to be there for 4 years because they are both planning to start and finish their undergraduate degrees there. So It’s a big goodbye!

I don’t think that any one of us has grasped it yet, especially Dad who wonders why everyone is asking him if he’s sad to see her go! Not much to wonder at, but he’s fixed himself in the mindset that its exciting and happy to see her marry her love and move off into their new life. We’ll see how long that lasts once she has actually gotten on the plane for 4 years!

Of course the two students may scrape together enough money to come back to Australia, and most of us are planning a visit at some point but it’s still a long time. Mum and Dad and her have been the only ones at home since my brother moved to Melbourne for uni 3.5 years ago, so I think they’ll really notice her absence around the house.

Then my teacher brother-in-law is flying to England for a year on Thursday! How’s that, sister and brother-in-law, plus brother-in-law, flying out in the same week! It makes more sense when you know that the school year starts on the 1st September across the UK and Europe. So for a teacher, and two students, it makes sense to move with a few weeks grace to get settled into accommodation etc. A year isn’t so bad, there’s an end point to look forward to. But it’s so hard to imagine his Mum and Dad without him. He’s also the youngest and it’s been the three of them since his older brother moved away to do his apprenticeship YEARS ago. Not sure how many, but it could be eight or so years. They’ll definitely be looking for him around the house!

So those are the scheduled departures. We’ve had the goodbye parties, given them advice, wished them farewell. Everything according to plan and tradition, and everyone has had their part in it.

I want to add one more departure to the list.

This was not a scheduled departure. There was no celebration beforehand where people got together with the person leaving and shook their hand and talked and laughed and got their fill of the person departing that would tide them over til they next met. No advice was given about the next step of the journey about to be traveled by the departing and how to traverse it.

I think that most people involved felt that this was a tragic departure, in the literary sense that tragic means inevitable.

I want to wish my own farewell to RT who departed his life this week. You know when someone starts a sentence and they haven’t finished yet, in fact they’re only in the middle but you know the end is going to be something you don’t like? That’s how I heard about it. There is no other way to hear it, other than someone telling you but the hearing of it is never easy.

Many months of a terrible depression preceded this departure, I heard. A mighty, mighty battle has taken place. That battle involved good friends doing their best, multiple inpatient psychiatric admissions, previous suicide attempts, medications, and more that I don’t know about.

In fact I don’t know this person, only in passing. I would recognise him on the street, we’ve maybe exchanged a dozen words in total in our lifetimes. Every year while I was growing up we would spend 3 Saturdays in October at a farm where our annual Christian convention was held, getting it all ready. Our family was always there, he and his wife were always there. They were the cool, young couple that girls growing up through their teens can admire. That was the full extent of “knowing” him.

But there is this phenomenon I’ve heard spoken about where people can experience grief for someone they don’t know, or have barely met, or celebrities etc that is disproportionate to their relationship with that person. Sometimes it can be as profound and take as emotional a toll as the death of a family member. Like when the news of Elvis having left the building descended on the world. Tears and sobbing from people who “knew” him from a concert, a tape, magazines. It’s valid.

I don’t think that’s what is happening here. I think what is happening is several months ago a mutual acquaintance described to me the suffering this person was experiencing as a result of depression. And it resonated with me very strongly because of my experience with depression. I had amazing support and all the help that I could possible require and there were days when I didn’t think I could survive.

As far as I heard, this person had no one at home, some friends around town and family nowhere near by. I could totally connect with his deep need for support and love and care, and the absence of these needs being met. No amount of psychiatric care can compensate for having a partner, family member, very close friend who “gets” you, who understands your suffering, who can be there for you to help you keep safe, who feeds you with love and care and hope, and reminds you again and again that you can fight this war to a victory and they will help you all the way.

His story just made me want to reach out and say, I feel for you, I’ve been where you’ve been and I know how awful and hard and dark and hopeless it is, and I want you to know that I came through and it is worth the fight. Or something like that.

That’s what I wanted to say. But after his wife left, his whole world crumbled, he had nothing to live for on this earth. Because I think kind honesty is the best way to support someone, I don’t know that I would have been able to say convincingly that it’s all worth it in the end, keep fighting, one day this will be all behind you and be a distant bad dream and you’ll be glad that you fought and won.

When you have nothing to live for on earth, it’s a very hard situation. I had everything to live for, and it was a hard, uphill, difficult road, and still may be in the future. But with nothing to live for, why would you try? Why would you fight for, scrabble for grip to, desperately cling to, and give your all to hang onto life? What for? Giving everything to hold onto life that doesn’t feel worth living, that holds searing pain, awful agony, sorrow, struggle, being alone, without love etc. All that terribly difficult effort while drowning in molasses, and what for? That’s what being suicidal is like.

And so he left us. It was inevitable. It’s sad, because nothing more could be done to hold him here on earth, because he couldn’t find enough to hold him to life. But I strongly feel that now he has peace and rest from so much awfulness. And how blissful will that peace and rest be, after so much difficulty on earth.

I have more thing to say. I believe in God, in Jesus, in eternal life. I’ll write about this point more one day. God’s commandments in the Old Testament were, thou shalt not kill. And I think that would have included ourselves. But the New Testament came in Jesus who has showed his great love and mercy. I believe that although we would want to help someone not to end their ow life, when someone is hurting so much that they can’t handle it anymore, Jesus understands and forgives. He knows what we have gone through and why we have reached such a point of desperation. He offers his help and grace in our lifetime, which is promised to be sufficient for us, but in our agony we can’t see much beyond our hurting self.

I feel that our mental health and our spiritual health are two disparate things. But they get confused. We don’t confuse our physical health with religion. We don’t expect our faith to help our gout. But our mental health has foggier borders. Our religion can be a help to us in all situations, but it’s not a cure for any illness, and depression isn’t a religious issue; it’s a medical issue.

I say this just to make the point that when someone we know hits the threshold of what they can possibly bear and can no longer suffer their daily life, let’s recognise that they have succumbed to a medical condition that was unable to be sufficiently treated with the medications and therapy that we have available these days. Let us never consider that their faith wasn’t enough, or they lost their religion, or they somehow should have found a way to survive. Suicide isn’t a comment on the sufferers ability, but the disease’s severity.

Farewell, fierce fighter. I recognise how much you fought, and I’m sorry that the disease was too strong for you. You will be missed. But I will remember your story. I won’t forget your bravery.

To all of you in this post, til we meet again.

UTTER ELATION!

YIPPEE! WOO HOO! YAY! HUZZAH! *JUMPING UP AND DOWN* *SCREAMING, SHOUTING, TWISTING, PUNCHING THE AIR*

And if you think that excessive, there’s more to come!

Am I manic? Have I gone properly insane instead of just hanging in the balance? Am I high on petrol fumes? Or sugar?

No.

This just happened: I applied for a job!!!!!!!

This is so epic it’s just hard to describe!

A job. Me. Now. Application. Resume. Cover letter. Apply online. Talk to actual working people from that workplace. Interview. Qualifications. Selection criteria.

A job. Me. Do you know when I last worked full time? March 3rd 2014. More than a year ago. I can’t forget that date because it was also the date I caught a cab to the emergency department and all that has followed on from then. Do you know when I last worked, part time? October 13th 2014, the end of a six week stint.

Either way it’s been a long, long time.

There have absolutely been points along the way when I did not think I would ever return to work. I thought I might remain at home in some kind of invalid-ish way waiting for life to pass by.

Then I thought I’d change career paths altogether. My official back up plan has always been hairdresser. When my previous job sucked so hard, I told everyone that would listen that I was going to be a hairdresser. While I was off work I dreamed up a few other options: teacher of something, photographer, professional Ebayer, consultant of something or other. None of them really ever seriously looked like getting off the ground. Oh, and professional blogger…well, you be the judge of that as an idea!

Then the plan was the change over from hospital pharmacy to community pharmacy. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, and in terms of the scripts you would dispense maybe its not. But I last sold cold and flu tablets in 2010! I vaguely remember the details but I’d need some serious refreshing before that got off the ground.

Then I thought I’d do my usual job but in a diminished way, part time. Except there were no jobs. Literally no jobs for part time work; nearly all hospital jobs are full time. Then there was one, in Dandenong. Now I didn’t mind travelling to Prahran from Box Hill because the public transport connections were good, but Dandenong would just be a painful, disconnected way to go every day. Then there was two, in Footscray! Same problem. So I let that slide.

Then this. Box Hill, the suburb where I live, fed me the perfect-est job for me right now! 3 days a week, 7 minute walk from my bed, Grade 2 which I am, backfill to various positions rather than a permanent ward position which will help me in getting my knowledge and skills up to date!! Perfect!

I don’t know if I’ll get it, of course. But I’m in the process. That’s pretty, really, quite a very lot exciting! I dug out my resume, found the last cover letter I wrote, got the position description and sat up in bed to survey the state of it all.

Updated my resume, still not sure what to do about that there big gap from October 2014 but oh well, fiddled around to re-phrase the cover letter, matched up the criteria as much as possible, confirmed the requirements, put it all into the required format and online job application engine, and clicked GO!

So here we are. My resume, cover letter and application are out there in the universe, wending there way to the friendly, very helpful deputy which I hope means they will be well received.

And I’m so stoked! We got here! Finally, finally, we got here! To where I’m interested, motivated, enthusiastic about the idea of employment. To where I’m jumping up and down inside about this revelation, this achievement, this goalpost reached! How long has it taken, but we got here!

We got here! Elation abounds, excitement rules, I”m so happy to have gotten here. The outcome almost doesn’t matter right now, I’m just stoked to be part of the process! And that makes me very happy!

*Written on 27th April, 2015

The Brain

[Author’s note: written last Thursday]

Today I…

…Hmmm.

I just realised that a lot of my writing and thinking starts like this.

That’s one thing about being home by yourself for months; you get to thinking about yourself a lot! And not so much about others.

Plus, you know, the whole life-changing nervous breakdown thing that triggers a lot of soul searching, heart searching, mind searching etc.

Plus being in therapy which encourages looking into yourself and understanding yourself and changing yourself. Plus seeing doctors regularly who ask you about yourself and want an answer about yourself.

Don’t know whether it is bad or good but it is what it is. I’m just noting it for my own reference really. Without judgement, just like my psychologist, mindfulness teacher and gratitude life class coach would say!

So today I went to a free organ concert.

This is something that I’ve wanted to do for a while now and haven’t gotten around to. It’s actually something that I’ve wanted to do ever since school camp to Sydney way back, not sure which year; probably about a decade ago though!! We saw the majestic organ at the Opera House but never got to hear it played. So the idea of hearing an organ concert is something that has been lurking in the back of my brain ever since.

And now it popped up for free! Can’t beat that!

So I went along today and took in the concert.

Annoying thing is, I’m not sure if I enjoyed it. Annoying, frustrating, irritating, worrying, concerning,interesting; pick one, any one.

My logical brain appreciated the size and the grandeur of the organ and the work that went in to building such a large musical instrument. It registered the admirable fact that the organ has been in place for a long time and still rings true thanks to dedication of many people. It realised the lovely surroundings from where I sat including the bright colours of stained glass windows, lovely wooden furniture, carpets and heating that made the environment comfy cosy on a freezing cold rainy day. It took in the detail of paintings and carvings and settings that were meticulous and intricate.

My rational brain heard the satisfying chords of the music played and admired the skill of the organist, and the patience of the girl sitting by to turn pages. It was interested by the variety of other people with a like desire to hear organ music in this day and age, and the ongoing support of obvious regular attendees. It was intrigued by the range of notes and variety of styles in which the organ could be played; impressed really to hear fast furious pieces together with traditional classical music and lyrical hymns. It felt obliged to be satisfied overall because really, wasn’t I ticking off one of my longings?

My physical brain was engaged in making sure that I was comfortable. I overheat very rapidly these days because of my medicines so all my coats and scarves were off. But just to be sure my physical brain checked and checked again and found that I was in fact sweating. Seriously, it was 8 degrees outside and I had just walked into a mildly heated draughty room and I’m wiping sweat off my face! Argh. Moving on, my brain was okay with the seating, the position, the view. It was surprised to find the seats in fact very comfy for an old building, and the view to be very nice.

So my brain goes on, looking, checking, assessing, approving and appreciating.

But is it enjoying? Today I’m just not sure. Usually I can feel it; happiness, joy, enjoyment. But today is one of those days where everything is in place, but I just can’t quite get to where I think I want to be.

Is it the medication, is it the condition, is it just an off day? Was it my lunch not sitting well, the seat slightly skewed, the conversation I just had? Was it my planning for tomorrow, my list of others things I’d like to do, my thoughts on dinner?

I think it will take more time and experience before I know the difference and can say for sure which is which.

I’m glad I did what I’ve wanted to do for so long. I’m sorry I didn’t quite get out of it what I thought. Maybe my expectations were not aligned with reality or maybe today’s just not my day. At least I have the blessing of being able to try it again sometime since the concert is a recurring one. A lot of times we don’t get opportunity a second time so that’s definitely in the plus column!