Searching for Sunsets

Have you seen some of the fantastic sunsets in recent weeks? When the weather has been unseasonably warm for February, we have been afforded the delight of majestic masterpieces as the days draw to a close. Struck by their beauty, I have been caught up in a mood of reflection. I am taking it to be a good sign as I am considering where I stand on my journey and feel an acceptance of my situation. I started this year with several weeks of turmoil as I attempted to look ahead to the unknown. I was obviously searching for answers and a plan for myself within the coming months and felt adrift on a sea of uncertainty. An evocative image, a poetic spin on what felt unsettling at the time, as I kept trying to rationalise what I was doing and make sense of how I would be able to move forward. Steps that I have since taken have brought me to an understanding that no plan actually is a plan for my own well-being.

It is funny how since I have adjusted to where I am now, I have allowed myself to think back to how things were a year ago, and have found myself asking where we now find ourselves. Thankfully the disruption of major house renovations are past and we are all settled into the new spaces created from it. I love the oasis of calm that our loft bedroom has become. Clean lines, limited clutter and views across the rooftops combine to create a positive space. Having had years of trying to unwind at the end of a day in the one room that we had never got round to decorating, a room full of furniture that never really fitted the space, it is now actually restful to go to bed, chat about our day or plans for the week ahead and snuggle up for the night. I don’t know if it is a common practice, but we always had that mentality of it only being us who saw the space so why bother making too much effort for a room that we spent little time awake in. I wish now that we could have put energy into rectifying that years ago, for the calm now is helping to seep into the fabric of our everyday and helping us both to manage better.

My children now have their bedrooms and space for their respective creative outlets: art and music. Now that my eldest has finished university and has his new band embarking on a programme of weekly gigs, there is a lot of music in the house. It isn’t all confined to the studio space that he has either, for the sounds and equipment have started to spill out all over the house. I hope he’s very grateful for the indulgence when he becomes rich and famous! I expect that’s the sunset that he is searching for. Until then, I am guessing that he and his equipment will be permanently resident in our house for many years to come and we will all just have to accommodate that.

I am not sure what this phase of our relationship has become - the parent- child relationship once the child has become an adult. No longer a situation where the parents hold all the power or control cards in the deck, more that we stumble along finding ways to co-exist, live alongside each other, re-establishing rules of living within a shared space. I am not sure we have managed that trick yet and I think some days that a better balance is needed, one where we as the parents don’t have all the responsibilities and all the chores and none of the freedoms that youth and exuberance enjoy. I guess I still have a way to go in adjusting my expectations so that I don’t keep defaulting to the ‘Mum position’ running around and clearing up after everyone. Not having a ‘recognised job’ certainly adds to the perception that my role is the maid and dog walker and whilst I am happy to take on a fair share of all of that, I am still working at speaking up to get some help in this – after all, I don’t make all the mess.

It is true that the physical differences to the house and the circumstances surrounding jobs and career moves have changed, but so too has my outlook. I suppose I have been given the luxury of space and an ability to pause for all this reflection. I have moved forward with my stress management and well-being and although I know I am still climbing that confidence mountain, making footholds for myself with each achievement along the way, I am gaining momentum. The anaemia and associated health issues seem to be more under control since Christmas which in turn, is helping my mood. All of that is positive, even if I have gained a little weight in the process. I’m guessing you can’t have it all! Less comfort eating and more getting out as the weather improves to exercise and feel the sun on my face will help with all of it though. I can’t be the only one who has the winter comfort bulge to tackle?

Then of course, the major difference from a year ago is that I am now writing every day. Having no expectations has meant that I have now relaxed into a writing habit - writing every day and missing the process if there is a day where I have been prevented from doing so. I currently have several projects running at the same time: these blog pieces, scripts to create and edit and a book – where my energies have mostly been channelled. When all the chores of the day are done and the dropping off or picking up of the children, shopping and so on is complete, I am excited to sit at my desk and write. Absorbed in the process, I feel as if I have different coloured threads from scattered garments all around me and as I type, I am working hard to pull together these many strands and weave them into a whole - something magnificent, or at least something that holds together when you hold it up for others to see. The jury is out on that score, for I am yet to get to the feedback stage. As I edit, and re-edit, it is with trepidation that I await responses from initial readings. But that is all for the future, for some sunset yet to be searched out. Now I must admit that I have made a long journey, emotionally and in my writing, and need to be content to play in the long shadows of an afternoon. There is no rush, I might just pause and sip tea and look around a while longer.

Curtain Call

So this week sees me taking part in what has become an annual ritual since 2005: performing in a pantomime as part of my local community drama group. As always, the week is both exciting and stressful as it’s the culmination of many months work, the moment of truth in remembering your lines and then the feeling of excitement as you share the buzz of performing with a group of people that you’ve come to rely on. Looking back over the years, I’ve played many parts from villain to leading lady, chorus line and many variations in between. I’ve never really minded what part I’ve played as the joy for me has been to be part of the whole, and at the end of the day the whole show is the important thing.

This year, I’m playing half of a comic duo which has been great fun; working on timing, choreographing slapstick and funny business and helping each other to deliver punchlines. It’s certainly proved a positive distraction from some of the stresses of both of our working lives and doesn’t everyone need an outlet of some sort to escape their mundane and day-to-day?

As we’ve got to the most important rehearsals of the run, the group has pulled together to sort all the little jobs that need doing when putting on a show, from fixing props to sorting face paints and ordering refreshments for the intervals and many, many more. Within this busy atmosphere and whilst juggling thoughts of all the tasks I need to tick off during show week, as the group producer, I find myself losing my way with my own performance. Standing on stage in the spotlight, waiting for the curtain to open, I had an overwhelming moment of feeling that I wouldn’t be able to do what was required, that I would not be able to put all the good work from rehearsals into practice. This year has certainly been a roller coaster of emotions and now, as I reach the week that I’m usually so in control of, I find myself feeling a sort of stage fright that I haven’t faced before.

In an early blog, “Confined by my Cage of Confidence,” I began to confront some of my self-esteem issues. In the last month, I have found myself returning to these. Confidence is a fragile commodity with many facets, much like a precious crystal. There are moments when I know that I shine and this year I have made many treasured memories where this has been true and I look to all like I’m full of confidence and soaring high. Of course the flip side has been moments of inhabiting low places, when I can feel alone even in a crowded room. This week I got some blood test results back which confirmed that my anaemia has become an issue again, which has at least explained some difficulties that I have had. I understand that low mood is attached to anaemia and the results certainly provide a reason for the dizziness and fainting that I have had this month. Perhaps then, it is no surprise that I feel that my confidence is eroding currently?

So where do we go from here? Well you have to keep moving forward don’t you? Sometimes that feels like wading in the shifting sands left at low tide. Other days, a smile or a simple act of kindness touches your soul, makes a connection and gives you the ability to stride forward at a pace that has eluded you for days. The difference with this crisis of confidence, in comparison to my last, is that I am recognising it as such and I have a network of support that I am able to call on. We are heading towards the end of this year and I know that the next year holds an uncertain path for me. The unknown can cast a fearful shadow upon the mind. I am avoiding the shadows by being honest with myself and my support network. This does mean that there have been some tearful conversations but if there’s one thing I have learnt over the last three years working in the field of Special Educational Needs, it is that there is nothing wrong with having a little cry. A tearful conversation with my husband or a friend that I trust has actually been therapeutic and who knew just how powerful a hug could be?

I have a light ahead of me and each day, I feel that I am moving towards it. When someone notices that you’re stuck or are losing your way and stops to support you, there is much to be thankful for. You owe it to them and yourself to dust yourself down and find the strength to face the next obstacle in your way.

Returning to my moment in the spotlight, I do what a lot of performers do and park the thoughts of doubt to step forward as my character. I do all the silly things that happen in a pantomime and know that my fellow cast will be there to support me and will be giving their best too for every scene. I’ve worked too hard to step off the stage now and the old adage of ‘the show must go on’ is certainly a motivating force. Over the years, as a group we have helped each other, particularly when we have known that individuals have been facing difficult times. We have laughed and cried together and pulled a performance out of the bag, sometimes against the odds. Those in the group in the year I reference in “Kind Hearts and Karaoke” know only too well the extent to which that was true.

So, with my husband backing me up, as always, and my friends providing a safety net that I know I only need to ask for, I’m telling myself that I can do this. I’m facing the show week ahead and with deep breaths, I’m ready for my curtain call.

Taking the Plunge!

There are times when it feels like I’m standing on the top diving board with all around me waiting for me to take the plunge but I’m paralysed to the spot and can’t step off. This week this analogy has come flooding into my mind as I feel that the work-life balance is evading me and the stresses that brings, are swirling around me. The scene from Little Mermaid plays its soundtrack in my head - “up where they stay all day in the sun, wandering free, wish I could be, part of that world.” Have you ever felt like you’re desperately trying to swim up to the surface, towards the light and freedom that it promises but you’re being held back, pulled back beneath the waves and all is swirling around you?

Maybe it’s just me? 

Just lately, I have found that I feel as if things are getting on top of me and as they do I have that all consuming sensation of spiralling out of control. Whether it’s just work and home circumstances or a combination of those pressures with adjustments needed again with my anaemia as it’s impacting upon my mood, I don’t know. When you hear people talk about feeling low, but you haven’t been there yourself, you just think there must be a quick fix and after all, we all have days when we feel a bit fed up. Now that I too have found myself in this category, I have been struck by just how overwhelmed I can quickly become. I have always been a logical, rational person but I can see these skills slipping away as the mood takes hold and I spiral down the helter-skelter of emotions.

The high board is where I currently stand, looking at still blue waters far below. A delectable temptation beckons - joining the cool pool of water, but it’s so far away and involves a leap of faith to dive the distance to reach it. So what do you do? Stay rooted to the spot, dive off with a high possibility of making a complete bellyflop on entry to the pool, or be brave enough to ask for help to find an alternative route down perhaps? It may feel like a backwards route, the long flight of steps back down from that precarious height, but there may be something rewarding in retracing those familiar steps and recognising what you achieved along the way on each step in the first place.

A good friend offering a hand to hold as I tentatively start the long climb down has offered wise advice. If you can’t completely change where you currently find yourself, what can you do to improve your situation? I know that I have referenced this in previous blogs, particularly in ‘Diva or Door Mat?’ but I do struggle to stand up for myself. Being proactive in saying what I can and am doing is not a natural part of my makeup. Neither do I find it easy to rock the boat, to make a fuss about things. So do I just let it all build up until I’m in that overwhelmed state? I guess I do or I have done so a lot. So now I recognise at least that I have to listen to friends who may sound harsh at the time, but who are pushing me to do the right thing for all the right reasons.

The best friends don’t always agree with you, they challenge how you feel about things but they do it in a way that you know they’re around if you fall. Think back to when you learnt to ride a bike. You couldn’t keep the stabilisers on for ever - riding around in some falsely constructed safe reality. No. There came a point when you were on those two wheels and you wobbled off down the street. You fell off a bit but you persevered and rode that bike in the end, probably with a parent or sibling cheering or smiling from the sidelines as you did so.

I hope my friends who are making me ride without stabilisers, are quietly smiling to themselves when they see me manage part of this journey. I know they’re looking out for me and sink or swim, ride or fall, they’ll be around to listen, advise or offer a friendly hug. Let’s face it, even a middle aged woman can feel a whole lot better after a comforting hug and a friendly smile.

Confined by my Cage of Confidence

This year started with less of a bang, more of a half-hearted fizz and a pop really. Never ones for big New Year’s parties we had plans in place for the usual few relatives and friends to come round for a take away and to play some board games. Not exactly the most exciting plans for new year's eve, but a way to mark the passage of time and to wish everyone success for the next chapter ahead.  Such is the ritual that we all have adopted, singling out this date as one for celebration and reflection. Well, best laid plans were not to be this year as the day before our electrics failed and, despite the best efforts of a guy prepared to come out and work over the holiday weekend, we cancelled our plans and functioned with candles and jumpers.

So it was against this background that I had time to reflect upon life choices as part of that annual, usually farcical process of making New Year resolutions.  This New Year, I thought, I'm going to be 50. I decided then that it was going to be my year for myself, for my goals. I was going to be slimmer and try to find some 'me time' amongst the busy work and family schedule. No weight goal in mind, just a vague idea about dropping a dress size maybe. I was a size 22 at the time and no matter how much make-up and glittery accessories I might add, there was no escaping the fact that I was short and fat. Short – I’ve come to terms with, but it was about time that I faced the fat issue.  So I actively cut down on all the things that we all know are bad for us and tried to do more exercise. I’ve always known what to do to lose weight, but I had to be in the right place mentally to start the journey.

However, the next few months brought unforeseen developments.  It seemed that as soon as I had decided to modify my eating habits something switched on in my brain and I had episodes of a loss of appetite along with a rough patch of dizzy spells. Though pleased that I was losing weight, the growing nagging feeling was there, wondering why I felt dizzy and off my food.  When I eventually had the courage to talk it all over with a doctor, it transpired that I was anaemic, my blood pressure was high and I was peri-menopausal.  A trio of trouble.

I've since discovered just how much this trio has chipped away at my physical health and mental well-being. A bit of internet research gave me some information and reassurance - though I should say, this is a dangerous path to take as it sets off all sorts of unnecessary alarm bells about symptoms real and imagined. However, armed with a little knowledge and the support of some friends encouraging me to actually keep seeking medical advice, I began to tackle some of the symptoms and start feeling better.

Tiredness had seeped into all aspects of my life, acting like a domino effect on mood, rational thought, patience and ability to function day-to-day. Now, I see that the steps I took to get a better night’s sleep had far reaching effects. Whilst in the midst of fitful sleep the early hours became familiar beasts to be slain: the midnight attempt to switch off, the 2 a.m worries for the next day ahead, the 4 a.m mental checklist to tick off, the 5 a.m visit to the bathroom, the 6 a.m acceptance that its almost time to get up anyway! With all that going on, it didn’t occur to me that this tiredness was causing my low mood and crumbling of self-confidence.

I’ve always thought of myself as an organised person, in control, able to do many things and certainly more than capable of juggling work and home life and family commitments. Not for the first part of this year though. All that came tumbling down, like the shifting walls of a sandcastle as the waves of daily demands washed over me. What was happening to me? With my former persona of being a strong woman came the unwritten rule that I didn’t stop to tell anyone how I really felt anyway. I was too busy – there was always a job to be completed, something that I needed to do to help the kids or to support other relatives, a meeting or admin job to complete for the local community group that I belong to. Well, when the tiredness and dizzy spells were at their worst, I think I broke. I felt like a cage was constructing itself around me, putting up barriers to hinder me from functioning as before. To put it succinctly, somewhere along the way I lost my confidence.

Now the concept of confidence is a curious thing – it can disappear in the blink of an eye but takes so long to claw it back again to its former glory. I found myself doubting my abilities and questioning decisions that I had to make. On one occasion, when a lot was happening in the same week, I told friends that I was spiralling out of control. Overwhelmed by circumstance without my previous rock of mental stability to stand upon, ‘spiralling’ was a good description. But asking for their help was a good move, as instead of being dismissed as irrational or silly, I was given space, time and support.

Reflecting upon this time, throws up a contradiction. In the last six months I have lost weight to the point that I am now starting to fit into some size 16 clothes – quite an achievement, from 3 sizes bigger at Christmas. With that achievement, I have received an increasing number of compliments from friends and work colleagues, enough that I began to believe what was being said and to start constructing a more positive self-image. The contradiction, however, is that I simultaneously lost confidence with the aspects that are not on display – daily decisions that I made beneath the façade of that capable, middle-aged Mum. Questions would swim in and out of my head frequently: “Should I continue with my job? Does this outfit really look okay on me or will people think that I am trying to dress like a woman half my age?”

That resolution at the start of the year was to make time for me and in making that pledge, I think it gave me cause to look at myself, question my abilities, my accomplishments and more importantly, look at where I am heading and evaluate if I should continue in this way.  I haven’t found the answers to these questions and at times, I think I have regretted asking them. I am still struggling to break out of my confidence cage but I feel that I have located the key. I have come to appreciate advice given by those who care and notice when I’ve been having a bad day. I’ve recognised that there is a way to go on my self-confidence but that I actively need to keep asking for help and finding the courage to take the more difficult steps, as the ones that appear easy and cause the least ripples at the time, are often only temporary fixes and end up leading down a pathway to a larger storm.