It’s been quite some time since I wrote anything resembling a blog, but today feels like as good a day as any … and what follows concerns my 118th completed “challenge” to raise mental health awareness.
At the start of 2020, I had plans to attempt and complete quite a few tasks involving “meeting” certain people, or pitting my sporting talents (which ranged between dubious and limited at the best of times) against someone at the elite (i.e. opposite) end of the athletic scale. Clearly unprecedented recent events have changed those plans, and impacted in far worse ways on the lives of so many people; but whilst there does appear to be a shaft of light at the end of what seemed an endless tunnel, the messages that it is fine to talk about mental health and reach out if you need help remain so relevant and important.
I revised the challenges to accommodate the restrictions imposed by lockdown … and the latest to be completed was to create a scrapbook of my life before lockdown.
Having committed my mental health experiences to paper in a book published a couple of years ago, the main consequence was a loss of my love of writing, caused (I believe) from recalling the memories of so many of the darkest and most difficult times of my life.
In compiling a scrapbook, I wanted to allow myself the opportunity and time to reflect on the happier or more memorable moments of the past ahem … let’s just say “few decades”; moments that had been overtaken by or lost under the weight of the negatives. I have always found it easy to dwell on those negatives, to worry about what has gone, or might go wrong, rather than looking back on some of the all-too-quickly-forgotten highs.
Over the past few weeks, I have set aside my favourite family photographs, found some old press cuttings and various other bits and pieces, and started arranging them into something that I hoped would have real meaning. I quickly realised how important the game of cricket has been, as the memories spanned almost 30 years; and it was also clear that I had very few photos from the early-80s, a time that for whatever reason, I have struggled to fully understand or completely process … even after all these years.
That said since the relatively-recent advent of social media, right up to last month in fact, I’ve been contacted by, or been able to get in touch with several friends from school, college and the start of my working life. Essentially when you meet (in person or virtually) someone you haven’t seen for over 30 years, you are essentially strangers; but strangers with shared teenage memories that can enable a friendship to begin all over again. Incredibly … and magically, a handful of photos have also been unearthed, which are both a physical snapshot, but hopefully also a potential catalyst to unlocking yet more positive memories.
The fact that I have been “strong” (and it’s subjective…) enough to share how I feel and continue to encourage people to talk is all down to Elaine. Without her, I doubt I would ever have understood the impact my condition has had on the life I’ve had and the person I’ve become; and I definitely wouldn’t have attempted the challenges which I hope and believe have given some credibility to the awareness I have tried to raise.
On one level, the book in the picture is simply a collection of photographic or written images; but on another, it shows (to me at least) that I have found the love and support I need to accept and still fight my condition, and to be incredibly grateful for all the people who have ever made a positive difference.
I’m not sure if all this makes sense, but thank you for taking the time to read it x
At the start of 2020, I had plans to attempt and complete quite a few tasks involving “meeting” certain people, or pitting my sporting talents (which ranged between dubious and limited at the best of times) against someone at the elite (i.e. opposite) end of the athletic scale. Clearly unprecedented recent events have changed those plans, and impacted in far worse ways on the lives of so many people; but whilst there does appear to be a shaft of light at the end of what seemed an endless tunnel, the messages that it is fine to talk about mental health and reach out if you need help remain so relevant and important.
I revised the challenges to accommodate the restrictions imposed by lockdown … and the latest to be completed was to create a scrapbook of my life before lockdown.
Having committed my mental health experiences to paper in a book published a couple of years ago, the main consequence was a loss of my love of writing, caused (I believe) from recalling the memories of so many of the darkest and most difficult times of my life.
In compiling a scrapbook, I wanted to allow myself the opportunity and time to reflect on the happier or more memorable moments of the past ahem … let’s just say “few decades”; moments that had been overtaken by or lost under the weight of the negatives. I have always found it easy to dwell on those negatives, to worry about what has gone, or might go wrong, rather than looking back on some of the all-too-quickly-forgotten highs.
Over the past few weeks, I have set aside my favourite family photographs, found some old press cuttings and various other bits and pieces, and started arranging them into something that I hoped would have real meaning. I quickly realised how important the game of cricket has been, as the memories spanned almost 30 years; and it was also clear that I had very few photos from the early-80s, a time that for whatever reason, I have struggled to fully understand or completely process … even after all these years.
That said since the relatively-recent advent of social media, right up to last month in fact, I’ve been contacted by, or been able to get in touch with several friends from school, college and the start of my working life. Essentially when you meet (in person or virtually) someone you haven’t seen for over 30 years, you are essentially strangers; but strangers with shared teenage memories that can enable a friendship to begin all over again. Incredibly … and magically, a handful of photos have also been unearthed, which are both a physical snapshot, but hopefully also a potential catalyst to unlocking yet more positive memories.
The fact that I have been “strong” (and it’s subjective…) enough to share how I feel and continue to encourage people to talk is all down to Elaine. Without her, I doubt I would ever have understood the impact my condition has had on the life I’ve had and the person I’ve become; and I definitely wouldn’t have attempted the challenges which I hope and believe have given some credibility to the awareness I have tried to raise.
On one level, the book in the picture is simply a collection of photographic or written images; but on another, it shows (to me at least) that I have found the love and support I need to accept and still fight my condition, and to be incredibly grateful for all the people who have ever made a positive difference.
I’m not sure if all this makes sense, but thank you for taking the time to read it x