I don’t know about you, but any radio or TV programme, or newspaper, magazine or website article, which brands itself ‘Review of the Anything’ is a big turn-off for me. “Let’s look at things we already know and have opinions about.” Christ, no thanks. But here’s my own review of the week. Last week to be specific.
My loyal reader will know that until 2017, I was on top of the world. Well, sort of. I was on antidepressants all the time and seeing therapists some of the time, but I was in a good place. I had finished work in the civil service in 2014 and done a few little part-time jobs until in 2015 I found the British Red Cross where I had a nice little number visiting lonely and isolated people in North East Somerset. It was a fixed term job but that was fine. I looked forward to getting up in the morning and going to work.
My managers were amazing. Lovely, lovely people committed to helping others. Gradually, the managers and most of the good people started to leave and my new manager, and those above it, were woefully incompetent. And it transpired abusive bullies. Having been in the workplace for over 40 years, I had never known anything like it. They made my life absolute hell, making me work alone in a broom cupboard in Easton and telling all sorts of lies about me. I had a breakdown and in the middle of it met with the Red Cross’s occupational health officer. She was as cold as ice and told me I was “emotionally weak”. I left, a broken man, only to resurface in early 2018 as a part time outreach worker for the brain injury charity Headway, a smaller but no less dysfunctional charity than the multinational behemoth I had left behind. I came back to a relatively better state of mental health when I was with them, although it had nothing to do with them. Time, drugs and therapy got me through. I left Headway in May 2021 and have not worked since but something else kept my mental health in a bad way: Covid-19.
I don’t think I realised the effect it had on many people, including me, until more recently. The ‘Stay At Home’ message reached deep into my psyche and since early 2020, I haven’t got out much. 2020 was obviously grim, 2021 better as the year went on. But I still didn’t want to go out much. Until the last few weeks and months.
Before Covid, I was an avid supporter of the three local football teams in Stoke Gifford. Above anything, it’s a great social scene, but I could not face being sociable. That’s changed too.
The week before last, I drove to Priddy in Somerset to look at the pools where I caught small fish and took them home to die. The place had barely changed. I walked around on a beautiful sunny day. It felt great. On the way back, I went to the end of the runway at Adge Cutler International Airport to watch planes take off and land. This week, I went out train tunnel spotting.
What, you may well ask, am I talking about? Well, I love train tunnels. Always have, can’t explain why. I’ve frequently driven to both ends of the Severn Tunnel just to gaze in awe at the entrances, the same at Box Tunnel in Wiltshire and last week I visited Wickwar tunnel and Chipping Sodbury tunnels. Just to look at the entrances. And you know what? I loved it.
(Wickwar North, Wickwar South, Chipping Sodbury West)
And I’m reading books again. Slowly, at the pace of a snail that can read (I’m sure slow-reading snails exist). And I’m listening to even more music than before.
Yesterday, we went to my local pub where the local football teams gather after games and I was welcomed warmly by everyone. This came as a shock but people seemed to be glad to see me. My partner had long insisted I return to watching the village teams. From next week onwards, I shall do just that.
My partner, who is a rock, has told me for a long time that I should write a list of things to look forward to and I shall do just that. Because there is stuff coming up that I’m going to love. Golf, gigs, watching the village team play football, a Greek holiday and various other small breaks, books to read and, yes, another book to write. (I have nearly finished one but it needs a bit more than touching up at the moment, possible a complete rewrite.) And maybe, just maybe, I’ll be assessed for being autistic, bipolar, having ADHD and/or PTSD. In which case, it will be a very good year.
I know I’m still going to be depressed because I always have been, even at my happiest times, but I am beginning, very slowly to see signs of better days ahead, particularly as the days start to stretch out as spring approaches.
None of this is to say I won’t feel like shit again for no obvious reason and usually without warning. Maybe, at last, things can only get better?
