Talking the (black) dog for a walk...

So it seems that my post of yesterday was timely. Nick Clegg's announcement of better services for people with mental illness, and of decent funding to achieve those better services, coincided with my post. I didn't watch any news yesterday, between sick kids, work and other things till late last night.

What amazes me is that 3 other women I've liked and admired for a long time have all posted about their own experiences of depression and post-natal depression. I've not seen any of them for some years, but it is incredible how much people go through and for the most part you never know. I know that in some cases people can be tetchy and mardy, but who isn't some days? A bit of tetchiness is not symptomatic of an underlying deep depression, but it could be.

So I'm talking my black dog for a walk. Joining Caron and Susan and Sara in walking it through the blogosphere. For those who feel that these services are not needed, please just read their accounts of how depression has affected their lives. Depression is not something that is anyone's fault. It can be related to an incident, caused by trauma, or just there. It doesn't mean you're a weak person - indeed often the opposite. So many people don't know I've had depression, because I've got on and done stuff around it, and despite it - often actually the worst thing for me that I could have done. The weak people are those who sneer at it because they've never felt hopeless. Lucky them. But it's amazing how many have if they're honest, but have never dealt with it because it would be perceived as weak.

I know that my experiences have been varied when I've been acutely depressed. I've been at the bottom, not knowing where to go. I've been to the point of no return and felt like I never wanted to wake up again. I've been past crying and I've cried when everyone else is asleep. I've woken up crying not knowing why, and I've had to hide it all from my kids and friends so noone else would know.

Depression is selfish according to some. But actually my depression has been all the more acute since I became a parent because my kids are the most important things in my life, and because I've felt like an out and out failure for not being able to provide everything I could hope for for them.

I've been lucky though. Ultimately I have had people around I love, and usually without knowing it, we've muddled through and got help. My experience of counselling is different to Sara's, Caron's and Susan's. I have had a couple of sessions of counselling after the birth of my fourth child. A very young, stunningly beautiful counsellor asked me about my life. I explained about my husband's serious illness, his retirement from a job he loved, my 4 kids and the fact that at that time, my husband was not earning at all, and I was back at work a couple of weeks after Jo was born. She looked at me a little quizzically and suggested I get someone to help with the housework. I asked her 'with what money'? She asked how I was feeding baby - I said breastfeeding around work, expressing and topping up where I had to. She suggested going to bottle!! A fantastic way to make a new mum feel she's achieving. She then suggested I should take a half hour for 'me time' each day! When exactly? I didn't book another session. Instead I saw my GP every couple of weeks. A mum herself, she got it. She completely understood and just listened, and things did get better.

I've come to the conclusion that my depression has really helped me to value the important things in life. My family, my friends, my community. The everyday triumphs - the next bike ride without stabilisers, the cake that actually does look like a Dalek handcrafted for a 12th birthday, the knowledge that I've done a good job today and have helped someone through my work, the next exam passed for my husband, the tenor horn exam passed with a high merit. I wanted to be a politician and probably still would like my chance. But not yet. My life is too full of everyday triumphs, which may seem paltry to so many. But my black dog is still taking a lot of exercise every day, barking at me every morning to remember what really really matters is not tomorrow, not next month, but today. Is today going to be OK? Is everything done today to the best of my ability? Are the kids all happy and well now? Are we all happy now? Then let tomorrow worry about itself, and just feel whole and happy today. One day, one step at a time. Actually that's all any of us can do

As I wrote that last paragraph I realised that the word I've used to sum up is whole. I think that's it. I feel inadequate when I'm depressed. I feel a failure and I beat myself up constantly in my head thinking about what it and what I should be doing better. My head is too full of negative, dark thoughts and I can't make it stop, but I don't feel whole. But if I focus on today, and what needs to be done, paid, made, achieved today - for me, the kids or others I work with - then it happens and I feel complete. My black dog pulls me back to remembering the here and now. And for that I thank her.

I don't suppose Nick Clegg ever has time for blogs. But thanks Nick, please just monitor it and make sure that the money goes where it should. And to those of you who think high achievers can't achieve highly with depression, you're wrong. Look at those amazing women blogging about it. Look at Churchill. Look at Stephen Fry. And the countless others who you would never know about. And look at me. An achieving woman doing amazing everyday things everyday. Things you'd never know about - running a small business voluntarily, supporting friends through their dark times as practically as possible, volunteering for the party and other organisations, working for a charity and hopefully helping save lives - and most importantly hopefully being a good wife and mother to a large family who are happy, healthy and active in so many different and individuals ways.

Lastly then I'm going to name my black dog. I'm going to call her Sylvia. A recent addition to my circle of friends, Sylvia is a voice of sanity in a world that often lacks. A kindred spirit who has a healthy sense of humour coupled with my sense of cynicism. A conscience and a voice of sense. So both Sylvias, bark away!

Dogs

So I didn't blog at all last year. Not that I didn't have anything to say, if anything I had too much to do, too much to say and no time to do it. Not that I have huge amounts of time now, and sometimes I worry about what I want to say on a blog that anyone can see.

Last year was chaos. New job - total risk, moving from somewhere I loved and somewhere I am passionate about that had given me breathing space and a chance to re-focus. Took the risk - it didn't pay off. I felt very let down by people who were too busy to care about those around them. For the first time in my life I felt I really put my family second, and feel more of a failure for that when the contract ended. Still don't know why, but it's happening to lots of people. Doesn't make it easy, especially when you give so much of yourself to it. I crashed. I was exhausted and told to take a break for a couple of months. Those I'd left 6 months before were those ironically who helped me through those first couple of weeks, which were so bewildering and hard to understand. Them and my parents, who helped us through it.

So not to put too fine a point on it, the black dog returned to my life. My black dog has been an intermittent companion in my life, usually prompted by panic and stress in my case, leaving me feeling inadequate. I think inadequacy is one of the things most mums or indeed parents feel, but actually it is the feeling I find hardest to deal with. The feeling of failing my family, when actually ending up redundant or out of work is so common these days, but for me, with my husband's illness and the kids, it's simply not an option.

Over the summer I watched the various pronouncments about likely budget cuts. I found some of the statements being made so laughable. I watched a programme about cuts featuring two families - one 'on benefits', one 'self-sufficient'. I was at the time getting £65 a week in Job Seekers Allowance. Apparently some families were getting £1500 a week in benefits. How on earth does this happen? Individuals applying for no jobs at for weeks on end, still getting the benefits others needed so badly. I applied for over 80 jobs in the 6 weeks I was job-seeking. Anyway that's history, back in work and back on the line.

But it made me think about priorities. So what if I am no longer the career woman I once was. I have small people who matter far more. When I said that the company car would be going back at the end of the month or 6 weeks time, the kids said so what, you're back and home properly. Worth more than any poxy benefits...

It did make me think about my black dog, and realise that actually once it's joined your life, the black dog might never go. I've always disliked dogs, much more of a cat person, and even the analogy for depression seems set to grate on me. But actually we've got a beautiful dog these days, and I've realised that they are loyal and faithful creatures. So too it appears is my black dog. Never actually going to leave me, but will just wait quietly in the background while things are OK, and then start barking at me when I need to protect myself. Last May it started barking, telling me I was over-working, taking on other people's loads as well, trying to prove myself, and getting no thanks for it. I should have listened to the black dog, not pushed it away, and pretended it didn't exist. Dogs need love and nurture and a bit of time each day, so does my black dog.

So I'm thinking maybe my black dog is a pet I need to learn more about. Not by being up my own backside about it, but by listening to it, when it starts to take hold. When I start to feel inadequate or panicky and like there's no light anywhere (I know it's a cliche, but it's also very true), maybe I need to listen to it and 'walk it'!

A good day.

So yesterday was a great day. Completely mad but busy. I had three conversations with different mums about how weekends weren't ours anymore but would we change it? Not a bit of it. First up a round of hair - helped by Vicky - Daisy's to straighten creating the full on rock chick look, and Ellie's for ballet. Phone call to confirm Joseph can start footie this term, rugby in a couple of months, and checking this week's swimming ducklings classes for Charlie. Joseph appeared fully clothed - as Batman or rather BatJo. Evident it was his wish to be a superhero, I confirmed that as long as the superhero tidied his bed, BatJo could in fact be just that all day. 'Yay, I love you Mummy'. Affirmation one. Wrote a list for me and Stu of who was where when.

So Luke to band, and then Ellie to ballet. Daisy was on a one off trip to the Panto, and I was parent helper, so off we went, with Vicky in charge of Daisy's group - 45 in ours, and several hundred Scouts in total. Brilliant panto - Mollie the Dame was awesome, and rivalling the best professional Pantos in every way. Affirmation two - 'can I sit with you Mummy' from Daisy. 'Why? Wouldn't you rather sit with your friends?' 'Sort of, but I love you lots'. Happily ensconced a row in front she laughed and booed and hissed her way thru. The kids were really well behaved. Awesome. Then to her Party. Presents out of the boot and a quick change in the car, rock chick was ready for nails, make up and pizza. Then back off to bag packing for Scouts, with Ellie and Luke in the other car off to cricket! Luke slightly perturbed that his sister wanted to be the first girl cricketer in the club, but she knows her own mind, and by all accounts was a natural!

A couple of hours later from the charity bagpack, we all met up in the Range car park. BatJo, cricketing Luke, dancing Ellie and Scout me all headed off to Tescos for pizza. Completely oblivious to the fact that none of us were clothed in what you might call 'usual shopping wear', in we traipsed. BatJo in particular causing a few giggles! Live crickets for Boris, the new pet gecko, also purchased, pizza and rocky road seemed like an awesome end to a great day.

Would I change any of it? Not for a moment. Is it hard work? Yep. Is it worth every single moment. Yep. Was I asleep on the couch minutes after the kids had gone to bed? Yep! Not a political moment or a work crisis in sight. That's a blog for another day. Maybe a bit bland to some, but that's their problem!

OMG

Two and a bit years since my last post. It seems like an eternity. Charlie is nearly 4. All of the others are at school, and I am well into my late thirties. Politically we are just after the Oldham result, and what is going on? Quite simply too much to report. So I will resume blogging soon.It's been a long long time and we're on the road to somewhere.

Families are complex but who knows what a family looks like sometime. Not conventional, and not like one would expect. I know I feel like a young yummy mummy sometimes but who knows what is waiting. Anyway I've made contact again, and we'll see where we go from here.

xxxx

What's in a name?

Today the name Michael Brown is haunting me. News and blog reports about the Michael Brown who gave some money to the Liberal Democrats have been prevalent. But here in Look North region, as a relative newcomer to the area, I have just had the dubious pleasure of seeing ex MP Michael Brown interviewed. Described on wikipedia as having 'robust style' I was entertained by his description of Alan Johnson as not just unable to 'wield a knife, but unable to wield a penknife'. Obviously this was in response to the suggestion that Johnson could replace Brown as Labour Leader.

This was one of his vaguely entertaining quotes. For someone who lost an election some 11 years ago now, he seemed remarkably bitter still. Blut he was gloating over the prospects for those who beat him - yes those who beat him - at the next General Election whenever that may be. And gloating Tories are just never that attractive

Why don't women......

Looking at recent postings on the subject, I can't answer for most women. But I can answer for myself. And usually do ;-)

Why am I not a Parliamentary candidate? Because I didn't become involved in politics actively until I was pregnant with my first child, and looking even at our Parliamentary Party today we see a massive split between our women MPs. Either they've got older family and have done the 'little kids' thing or they don't yet have young family. And any woman knows that quite simply getting a job whilst pregnant is a lot harder than getting a job and becoming pregnant while in it.
It's harder because you're tired, sick, walk like a duck with swollen ankles. It's hard because inevitably employers are less likely to employ you for all kinds of reasons, and proving it can be the hardest thing in the world, but the unspoken questions are there. Even in our Party occasionally people voice their views on parenting and PPCs in a slightly less than positive way. There's an enforced break at the end of it and the whole process is unpredictable. And people's reaction to you is unpredictable as well, even those close by. And whilst being an MP may be on the agenda one day for me it's in my own time.

I am a bureaucrat a la Mark Valladares. I have been in lots of different roles and am currently Regional Chair. However when I was talking to someone about whether to stand for chair, someone pretty senior, I was reminded of a meeting when I was on an executive when I turned up with my fourth child, to a meeting an hour and a half away. Joseph was then 4 weeks old. I had less than three months maternity leave in total, and was still trying to breastfeed. I brought Joseph along, arrived early, fed him quietly outside in the car, went into the meeting, was one of only a tiny handful of people to have reviewed the development plan which was the main item of discussion, and input to that. As a former project manager I asked questions of the business plan put forward for another item - again the only questions asked - and succeeded in getting some essential answers in order to allow a decision to be made. But somehow it wasn't quite the thing apparently - I should have been in confinement still. I should add, unlike his mother, Joseph sat quietly and unobtrusively in his car seat, and several members didn't know he was even there during the meeting. So why don't more women do it - I guess they feel as I do.

And as for blogging why did it take me so long? Frankly I didn't feel that I had anything worth saying - and many readers may well agree! I don't dedicate my entire life to politics, but work for a large youth organisation and have 5 kids as well as being a party volunteer. I would love to write a fantastically cerebral post a la James Graham. But when your thought streams in your spare time are interrupted by Tenor Horn practice, nappy changing, Balamory, today's tub words, the playgroup committee meeting, local Town Council discussions on Christmas lights, the Easter bonnet for next week - oh and the desire to just spend a few hours with your loved ones enjoying a roast dinner - you do wonder if anyone will be interested in reading what's going through your mind!!!

I've got to a point in my life where I am enjoying it. Every rich and varied moment. I have a brain a good degree and a high-flying professional background to boot. I am capable of deep and meaningful communication and thought. But right now PC Plum, Josie Jump, Archie and the mystery of the cow pats, and why my 2 year old has a constant green stream from his left nostril, coupled with a slight concern that it may be because he's poked the crust he didn't like yesterday up there, is taking priority in my spare time. And the day job is just what it says, the day job that takes up the work time.

To paraphrase Emma Thompson in 'Love Actually', 'Today my brothers are blogging to save the free world, and I made a lego dinosaur when I got in from a knackering day at work, whilst answering a party membership query on the phone and making up pints of blackcurrant and apple for the very grubby kids who wanted their paddling pool full, whilst wondering when the weeds in my new flower beds were going to get pulled up, and convincing a three year old that just because her brother had pulled Barbie's leg off, Barbie was still a princess and looking for superglue.' And I loved it.

Does that answer it?

I exist therefore..

I am official. Linked to from Lib Dem blogs - the criteria was it didn't have to be a politics-only blog, but just that I needed to be a member and a blogger! So here I am. But also linked to from my friend, Catherine aka bluecowmoo, a blog which has a focus on knitting. Wonder if that's a first for many Lib Dem readers.

So back from a day in London yesterday at English Council Executive, and a nice meal with baby brother Peter, who's just moved to Chelmsford. A train ride later and the drive took me past the Lincolnshire Showground where several thousand young people from all over the world are enjoying http://www.poacher.org.uk/. Seeing the tents, the floodlit site, and the activities laid out for today made me quite nostalgic. I'd really encourage anyone who has never thought about Scouting for themselves or their kids to have a look at this. Groups have been fundraising for months to make this an affordable adventure for kids from all over the place, coupled with the opportunity to mix with Scouts from all over the world. Scouting is really not about wierd rituals (although occasionally we indulge in gathering logs and a good Beaver Slam - usually at the request of the young people!) but about giving opportunities to mix, try new things and stretch yourself. Regardless of background or age there is a place in Scouting for anyone who wants to have fun - so JOIN THE ADVENTURE! www.scout.org.uk.

And now off to Winterton Showground to the Steam Rally. Poor little Joseph has been watching pictures of steam engines going up round the village for weeks and going to the Post Office takes three times as long as we have to gaze and liken them to the all-time King of steam engines, Thomas and his Friends. Unfortunately yesterday I upset him greatly - I went on a modern impostor. To quote him 'Naughty Diesel'....