SOS
I’ve got this sink-ship feeling, I don’t know what to do
with myself.
Bluejuice’s song ‘SOS’ has seen me through some tough
moments since the first time I heard it, and every time it has it has made me
feel better just by singing. Although the lyrics aren’t the most positive:
SOS, send some help, nobody saves you from yourself; SOS,
rescue me, I’m not the man I want to be.
There’s something about the tone, melody and pace of the
song that despite its somewhat sad, yet relatable, lyrics it works to fix the
things it actually talks about. At least it does for me.
I have been feeling down again – and before you start to
think I am down all the time, because I suppose sometimes it must seem that way
from my blog, just try to remember that a huge part of my writing is for release.
Whether it’s to release the pent up emotions in my heart and mind, or the
stories bouncing around just ready to be written, it is still a huge release
for me.
Writing works for me like stretching a muscle I haven’t used
for a little while; it’s a relief and it feels like the weight lessens on my
shoulders, my muscles loose some of their tension, and my mind is a little
clearer of its jumble. It my writing ever bores or saddens you – don’t read it.
I write for myself.
Since Rueben was killed things haven’t improved; I won’t go
into all the details since it won’t really make me feel better to rehash
everything when I’ve already spoken to people about it, but suffice it to say
it was pretty miserable. I will however say that one of those things was the
death of my sick, yet beloved Nana.
Anyone who has suffered a loved one’s demise to Dementia
will know that there is no cure, no real bright side and no choice but to do
all you can to make them comfortable. It is a slow, terminal disease that can
turn the strongest minds to colanders and fantasies.
My Nana wasn’t the only person I’d come across with this
disease, my grandfather in Tazzie for another, but she was the closest and the
most devastating. It happened slowly at first, but increased rapidly the past
12 months since our ill-fated family cruise last September meant to make her
happy for a little while. There would be moments when my Nana wouldn’t remember
me, or other members of the family, and moments still when her memories of the
past would become so blurred and fictionalised it would be beyond anyone to
fathom what the truth was when she spoke it.
In the midst of misery, her stories were the best part. My
Nana loved Russia and the old stories of the unfortunate Romanov family, so
when I was younger we’d say that one day we would go there. Of course we never
got the opportunity, everyone thinks they have more time than they do, and when
she died she had never seen Russia. But that never stopped her imagination from
conjuring some amazing false-truths for her to tell me. Of all her stories the
best one she ever told me was that she was a good friend of Tsar Nicholas, and
that he had given her a chest of Diamonds which she wanted to share with me.
She thought she might have been the missing Grand Duchess Anastasia, but she
couldn’t remember well enough. My Nana was born in 1943, 25 years after the
Romanov family were executed in Ekaterinburg and since 2008 all 7 bodies have
been accounted for.
My Nana was a tough, feisty and occasionally cackly old
woman who all of us around her loved dearly until the very last. I’m devastated
to have had to see her go, though I am consoled that she won’t be suffering
anymore. My Nana was so proud and was happened to her made her so frightened,
so frustrated, that I would rather she be free of it then suffering still here
with me.
The loss of Nana and Rueben were not the only things that
contributed to my melancholy leading up until now, but they were certainly the
worst of the lot. I have days when I’m better than others, and days when I feel
so low I don’t know what I’m going to do to pick myself up again.
I have friends, more than a few, and all of them are
wonderful. If I said ‘I need your help’, I have no doubt that they would come
so please don’t think for a moment that I think that I have no one. I feel
lonelier than others some days but not because I don’t think I couldn’t
surround myself if that is what I felt I needed. That being said my friends
aren’t psychic, and unless I tell them I need them I could never be angry or hurt
that they don’t come. I know that. And yet sometimes I know that people can’t
always hold my hand whether I want them to or not; everyone has their own
demons, I am no exception, and sometimes we are the only ones that can fight
them off. It’s one thing to call and say I need a hand, it’s another thing to
know I very easily could but it’s still something I’ll need to fix myself. This
is the latter.
And I’m finding a way; I’m muddling through to construct a
better plan of action since the old one didn’t work. This is one step, just
writing it out and releasing the pent up feeling of it. Like pouring the
contaminated water out of a jug and down the sink.
I’ve been in a rut, brought on by a series of unfortunate events,
loss, heartbreak and disillusion, and now it’s time to try a little harder to
snap out of it. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Melancholia is nothing to scoff
at, so I don’t think for a minute that this expose will act like a miracle cure
and fix me at once. No, it will take time, conscious effort and baby steps to
pick myself up this time. Here’s what I’m thinking:
-
Cleaner eating, exercise: I do these a little
already, but an increase in clean eating will make me feel better internally
and exercise will not only raise my energy levels but tire me out in a far
healthier way. Considering I’ve been sleeping badly, a lot of my happiness can
be reclaimed by just being better rested.
-
Writing: I’m writing here, but it always seems to
correlate with times of trial that I don’t write enough. Ironic when writing
makes me feel better and more myself, but it becomes harder to keep going when I’m
not feeling well. When you’re down, sometimes the hardest things to do are the
ones that will be the most important.
-
Be more social: I am a very social person, I
like people. I spend a lot of time on my own, and mostly by choice, but I love
to spend time with people as well. I like to meet new people, connect with
current and old friends, and spend time trying new activities. Spending too
much time on the couch watching TV or reading is definitely fabulous, but the
feeling that life is passing me by just staying there does nothing in the way
of improving my mental health.
Now, these are the top three I
can achieve immediately. All three of those things can be started today, no
exceptions, but there are other things on my list that I haven’t mentioned. Not
because I don’t think they’re worth mentioning but because I want to keep them
to myself a little longer.
A wise man once said ‘the
definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over but expecting
different results’.
Wallowing, waiting for my life to
begin on the couch will keep me down and the way that I’ve been feeling I can’t
afford that. I need to change, do something different, shake it up, and I have
a plan to do it.
Sam xox
Comments
Post a Comment