Thursday 7 February 2013

One: a bad day...?


A while ago now I started being a little more open about 'my condition'. To most people, I - perhaps mistakenly - like to think that I come across as a vivacious, positive person, with a strong moral compass, guided by an equally strong sense of social justice (or injustice) and the urge, above all else, to fight.

I've always been a fighter. I fight stereotypes. I fight what might be stupid battles that no one else sees the point in, but that are somehow important to me at that moment in time. And, more often than not, in one way or another, that fighting gets me into trouble. Don't get me wrong, I'm not handy with my fists - with the exception of an incident outside the maths room in the 3rd year of secondary school, sorry Lee - but, as I have recently been described by a colleague, I'm like a terrier, a Jack Russell: once I get hold of something I don't let go. I like to think that this is a positive quality, in the main, but others might see it as obsession and I am now too beginning to wonder if they are right.

I watched an episode of House earlier and the man himself turned to his boss, who was having a day much like one of mine, and said something like, "You’re putting your career on the line to try and eradicate stupidity", followed by some remark about how that in itself was incredibly stupid. It struck a chord as, anyone who has had to listen to my increasingly stressed rants recently will know, that is exactly what my fights have been about of late. Am I wrong to try and make things better? To highlight stupidity, laziness or malpractice in areas which can scarcely afford such things? Am I seeing it where others don't, and in the process making myself out to be the fool? It is certainly beginning to feel like it.

I've been told I have an "amazingly strong work ethic". I was flattered by this, but also surprised. I just call it a 'work ethic'. Whatever job we do in life, and I have done a fair old mix, shouldn't we strive to do the best we can? Don't we all hate the 'sorry, that's not my job' or 'sorry, we're closing now' mentality that we have all encountered at some point? Again don't get me wrong, I’m not saying everyone should work 24/7 or try to do things that genuinely aren't their jobs, but a little bit of helpfulness, courtesy and sign-posting doesn't go amiss. In my job, for example, I am often the only contact with 'the system' that a household may have, and I therefore see it as a vital part of my role to ensure that people who need help are at least pointed in the right direction to find it.

I digress; I did not start this post in order to have another rant about work. However, I have had a very difficult time with work recently, resulting in me - counter to my amazingly strong work ethic - taking this week off as sick. It is something that feels odd to me; although I have had to do it before on rare occasions with previous positions, but it was not something I wanted to ever have to do again. I had hoped that I had learnt how to cope with increasingly diverse pressures, and how to say no. Hmm. This time I find it's not just pressures but actual policies that I disagree with, and find that incredibly difficult. How can I work within a system that I don't agree with?

Getting back to where I started... A year or so ago I posted a picture of myself on facebook, a picture with a comment that attracted a lot of attention from friends and family, old and new. The picture was one of me on a 'bad day', showing me when I find myself disintegrating into the worthless, lethargic, sobbing mess that depression creates. I was moved by some of the responses, and that in itself resurrected some of that old fight. It's a tricky one. On the one hand, I want to be able to show that many of us do suffer with forms of depression and that we should not hide it, leaving it to fester and eat away at us. On the other hand, I don't want that label to become the centre of my life, to be the thing that people think of when they think of me, or worse, to pity me with. It IS a part of me, just as my energy and my quick-thinking and my sense of adventure is a part of me. It is not the entirety of me, but equally, it is not something I can keep hiding in plain sight.

Today I woke up depressed. I don't know why, I felt quite good yesterday. I was tired, and allowed myself to be overtaken by that tiredness and stayed safely under my duvet until gone 11am, something that I would ordinarily disapprove of. The sun was shining, and after getting up briefly for a drink and some cereal, I returned to bed but opened the curtains and looked out at the sunshine, listening to the noises of the hustle and bustle outside. I had no inclination whatsoever to go out there however, or even do anything indoors, and rather than battle with myself, reprimanding my low mood, I allowed myself to stay in bed a while longer, and listened to an audio book. I realised I was possibly going to be in trouble today: I couldn't face even getting dressed, let alone doing anything at all productive. "It's ok" I told myself, "I'm off sick for this very reason, I need to rest". However, it also occurred to me that this was part of my fight, to not let days like this be the sum total of my life. To not let my fears dictate my destiny.

I had a cry. I spent a little time in my pj's on the sofa watching the telly - hence seeing the episode of House mentioned earlier - and eventually managed to get myself together enough to do a couple of very simple tasks. It's incredibly difficult however to try and explain to someone who has never gone through this just what it is like, losing all sense of purpose or meaning, losing the ability to even get out from under the safety and warmth and ignorance of the duvet. To feel like a fraud; that everything that has ever been done or achieved was in fact stupid and futile. How can it be so difficult to get dressed? How can a simple task such as taking a package to the Post Office become such a challenge to someone who regularly presents arguments against trained solicitors and judges in Court? I don't know, and I wish I didn't need to question it. I know it's foolish, and yet I know that I will face this most incredible battle again, maybe tomorrow, maybe next week, but hopefully not for a while.

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