The Fear of Failing Happiness

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Bipolar, comfortable with my feelings, fear, feeling down, Fight Club, Happiness, happy, hitting bottom, hopeless, loosing hope, manic depression, manic depressive, Mental Health, sadness

Times are there to test us. If you’ve ever suffered with depression you’ll be familiar with the tendency to feel down for no apparent reason. I cannot relate it to any events in my life at present, I can only relate it to tiredness, which I am feeling a lot of at the moment. But once you get a tinge of it, the feeling soon snowballs and brings with it numerous doubts for various elements of life. I know I doubt my job, and largely that has been a reasonable explanation for the past fortnight’s emotion and something which I have been able to outwardly blame without seeming suspiciously unjustified in my sadness to those who do not understand. What hurts is when I try to hide it, I do not want to present such a level of pretence. In the past couple of years I have learnt to become more comfortable with my feelings, more knowledgable and in control of them. Like knowing your faults and accepting them; allowing me to feel them but not allowing them to get out of control. As a result I no longer hide from my friends, I won’t smile when asked how I am if in reality I’m feeling so devastatingly down, because how then will anyone ever know to pick you up?

I have only now collided with this dilemma again because I’ve been with my boyfriend for 5 weeks now and he’s seen me as always being happy, until now. He is such a happy-go-lucky person, which is a wonderful thing but somewhat intimidating when you don’t know how to be so. I have been very happy the last 5 weeks, it’s been a huge relief to me to no longer be living alone, constantly surrounded by my own thoughts and little other substance. Just because I am feeling down now is no reflection on the situation, I wouldn’t want it any other way… but that is what scares me; my propensity to feel down even during the best of times. I wish I wouldn’t burden my own happiness with uncertainty and concern; permitting doubt to flood in and drown what seemed so right. When this worry sets in I feel I will make it all go wrong, it’s terrifying to have something worthwhile to lose. If you have nothing, you have nothing to loose; the Fight Club theory of ‘hitting bottom’, the notion of loosing all hope, thus acquiring freedom. When your life is full of goodness, it’s terrifying. When you open up your heart and hand over control of your feelings you feel safer because you are loved, but in reality you are in your most vulnerable state.

Despite all my doubts I realise I have a chance to be happy, and all I can do is be me and give it my best shot. The potential to be happy is so incredible, and there is so much of that potential in this relationship, so many exciting plans already, so much talk of the future. I’ll sooner grab that gleaming hope and run with it than sit here in sorrow, I just have to watch closely so as not to trip and fall.

Photography and Fine Dining When in Rome

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Camera, Colosseum, DSLR, Fine Dining, Food, Italy, new romance, night photography, Photography, Roma, Rome, Spanish Steps, St. Peter's Basilica, Trevi Fountain, Wine

The Friday of our long weekend in Rome was far from insignificant, we took in the sights of the Spanish Steps, St. Peter’s Basilica and the Colosseum. I will go to see everything that is expected of me as a tourist, but it will never be my stand-out memory. Instead the Saturday seemed to capture my best moments.

I bought a new Digital SLR camera which was delivered the day before we travelled to Rome. I take enough photos as it is, but with a new toy to play with I was even more snap happy than ever! Taking about 200 photos a day; you get home and you make that decision to edit them down, choose the best of each shot, adjust it to be it’s best, and then decide on the best of the best to keep. It’s far from done but I’d hope to keep 100 from the 800 or so taken. The same happens with the trip itself and your memories… it’s not that you don’t keep them all, but there will be ones that really stand out. For me it’s rarely the main tourist sights but instead those that show a different view point than that which is expected, or those which focus on something besides the main attraction. This one of roses was taken at the Trevi Fountain, of course I captured the fountain, but not before seeing these discarded roses floating by. Everyone else was watching the post-wedding photography that was being staged at the top of the steps. The photo of the roses has all of that for me, I can remember the fountain, recall the atmosphere of the wedding party and the reaction of the casual spectators. This is the trigger to my memories, not the fountain, I find it dull to be so obvious.

In Italy I am constantly inspired by food, I consider it key to the cultural experience to dedicate time to the delicious delights on offer. I never hesitate to divert into a Gelateria at any time of day, usually “due gusti”, considering every flavour but favouring fruit flavours on most occasions. When I sit down with a  menu for dinner, I know I could like almost anything which then urges me to try something out of the ordinary, or ideally something famed in the region. In Italy I like to slow down, sitting in prime people-watching places on the side streets – romantically secluded yet surrounded by a buzz of life. I am typically a one-course kinda girl, but in the right place and with the right companion I will stay for hours, sample good wine and order antipasti and desserts and still be chatting away after; on Saturday we stayed so long that our friendly waiter brought out complimentary limoncello shots. He knew us too well, it was the perfect hark back to our first night together where we toasted to the new house with limoncello and prosecco mixers.

Conversation was still flowing at 1am even when the bottom of the bottle of wine was reached. It was time to wander and capture our night photography. We could have gone in search of a club, as couples in their mid-20s are supposed to, but fortunately we are as geeky as each other and happy to perch on the traffic island outside the colosseum for pretty much an hour adjusting camera settings to capture the shots we were after. We were out until 4am, with the effects of the wine long worn off, but a satisfied smile from an evening of constant conversation, delightful dining and the bountiful energy we both showed for our shared passion for photography. It holds a lot of promise.

All Roads Lead Away From Rome

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all roads lead to rome, Ashtray Heart, bag is packed, caffeine, cappuccino, city break, crowd, ecclectic, emo, Fiat, gig, Iddodromo Cappanelle, Italy, Lago del Turano, lakes, long weekend, mountains, new relationship, off the beaten track, Placebo, road trip, roadtrip, Roma, Rome, Tivoli, travelling, travels, trip planning, Villa D'Este, When in Rome, young love

Life is busy, it’s the way it should be. I have just taken 4-days away from work and crammed them as full as can be. Walked until my feet can no longer touch the ground pain-free. Wined, dined, consumed copious cups of gelato and then wined and dined some more. No internet, no phone, barely a text home. In the moment, immersed in culture, in Roma.

Thursday: I am not a morning person, but when my suitcase is packed I can wake from my slumber with the motivation of anticipation. Eyes wide open, ready to see new sights. Flying early, aided by extra-caffeinated cappuccino and kept going by constant chitter chatter about seeing this and doing that; from the touristically obvious to all of the quaint little quirks in between. The two of us, in our relationship only 3-weeks young, taking off to start on just a teaser of our many travels.

Unconventionality is key; why not arrive in Roma and then immediately hire a car and drive around the city and out the other side without even setting sight on the Colosseum? I found us an excuse to travel the windy mountain roads; it was Villa D’Este in Tivoli. It was the bliss of a fountain-filled palace to ease us into the heats of a real summer. You then watch as the roads wind away on the map, you then follow and find a place to call your next destination, find a place to further justify your hunger to continue the twist and turn around the corners of the Italian mountain roads. Introducing Lago del Turano; our escape from the city to which we had not yet been! We stood on the banks of a lake, between the blue water and the blue sky; a curiously reminiscent juxtaposition from our first walk together, stood in the dark of a rainy night beside a lake made by a disused English quarry!

Time was ticking, back to Roma, Placebo await! Entering the rat run of the Italian city where cars are all over the road in any available space, winding and weaving in whatever way works. To our artistic accommodation; a diversely designed room adjacent to the Vatican City. Departing again as swiftly as we’d arrived, this time to drive south of the city to Ippodromo Cappanelle to join the ecclectic Italian emo crowd dancing into the darkness to the beating of Molko’s ashtray heart.

Day one done; tomorrow we see the city!

Only Fools Hold Back

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controversy, culture, depression, family, friends, Happiness, House share, Italian culture, Italy, Mental Health, new romance, only fools rush in, optimism, Placebo, relations, risk, Rome, singing, the future, the past, When in Rome

Well they say that only fools rush in. But equally I would argue that fools wait, and watch as their lives pass by; unhappy and unfulfilled. We don’t know when we’re going to die so quite frankly why not just go for it. It’s a damn sight more exciting after all.

This is not just a philosophical ramble, I’m speaking of my new housemate who I lived with for about a week before we decided it was worth risking the future of the house share by giving into an inevitable romance that could not be ignored. After a brief bout of secrecy we are now gleefully telling friends and relatives and reveling in their reaction to the controversy. After the initial grimace everyone seems to be happy for us, followed by a flurry of excitement and a plentiful questions.

Given how everything fell apart for me earlier this year, I kept telling myself that the second half of this year would be spectacular to make up for the failure of the first 6-months. I tend to believe these things I tell myself but in reality it seemed ambitious. But karma seems to be working it’s charm and in the 7th month my year has just come on in leaps and bounds!

After years of struggling with depression, I decided when I began my last relationship 3-years ago that the happiness I then felt was because my time had finally come and my trawl through misery had finally earned me the right to feel optimism. When that fell apart though I couldn’t help but feel cheated… but alas, it was but a mere glitch… Onwards I shall go, grasping hold of the happiness that comes my way and refusing to feel a second of guilt about it. The past lending itself to become a point of comparison making me truly appreciate the good times and the good people that enter my life.

I had hoped for a long weekend in Rome this July and was imagining I would go alone with only the culture for company, albeit plentiful enough when in Rome. One little mention of this faded idea was enough for a pair of excitable new lovers to transform it into romantic weekend away in two weekend time, at just a month into our relationship. This falls upon the first weekend in August and commences complete with Placebo gig; a blissful vehicle for singing out my angst in a sweltering sea of Italians. It’s everything that heals me; Italian culture, music of my youth and new romance… it’s everything that brings me to life.

Silver-Lined Rain Clouds

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bats, clouds, countryside, cycling, exploring, exploring the area, freedom, fresh air, Happiness, Hope, lake, moving on, new beginnings, new house, new romance, new surroundings, rain, take a chance, the past, walking, weather

Rain no longer matters. Amongst many other things in life, I am now carefree enough to not let it ruin my fun. The rain in the UK seems to be going on forever at the moment anyway, and the whole ‘summer’ will be gone if I wait for a break in the clouds. Sometimes I really like a rainy walk or bike ride by myself, probably feeling down and feeling as though I deserve to be rained upon. But for the moment it’s having company that makes me not care about the rain. I moved to the new house a week ago now and I love to explore, I’m just pleased my housemate is just as keen as me. It didn’t matter that it was raining and almost dark, the lake we walked to last night was still beautiful, and fascinating to watch the bats flitting around above the water.

I do hope that this leisurely exploration continues as it makes me feel much better than rotting in front of the TV. We still have another week and a half to wait before our internet is connected at home, and other than being able to write my blog posts I can’t say I’m really missing it. Work is about staring at a computer screen, not my evenings too. I even keep hoping to find a less desk-bound occupation, but one thing at a time!

I feel generally surrounded by fresh air at the moment, not only from the country walks but just by being in new surroundings. There is a sense of movement and change that just feels so much freer that the past. As lovely as this all sounds, I know when writing it that for some people it really grates to read of this sort of airy-fairy happiness, but I’d urge you to delve into my blog archives, because what this then becomes is hope. Based on the past I know this feeling won’t last long, but then that’s why it must be embraced and be told, because that is why we carry on, it’s just that you have to take a chance and carry on before finding out just why.

A Chapel for a Change

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break up, converted chapel, despair, Emotion, friends, goals, House share, laughing, laughter, moving house, moving on, new challenge, new people, proud, relatives, relieved, sense of achievement, worth the wait

It has been 6-months since the break up, and that’s the time frame I’ve needed to be in the right frame of mind to move on. Friends and relatives thought it strange that I didn’t move house right away and kept asking me ‘when?’… I told them there would be a time when it felt right. Yesterday I made that move, and did so with considerable emotional ease; I had waited until it occured naturally and it all came about in due course. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to force it earlier and induce even more pain and heartache upon an already fragile year. I imagine I would have had to settle for something substandard too, either in a crumbly old town house with strange smells or with cohabiting with a bunch of crazed lunatics. A converted chapel though was certainly worth the wait.

I have found it utterly knackering carting furniture to and fro but the physical tiredness only adds to the feeling of achievement. I now have the company of others, and I have possibly laughed more this weekend than I have done all year so far. I’ve certainly smiled a lot more since finding this house share and in all the preparation.

Talking to the guys at work now reminds me of the earlier months of this year where I sat at work not knowing what to do with my life and feeling complete despair; not anything anyone could say would change that so they all just listened as I released my thoughts out loud in a hope of finding some sort of order in which to place them for the future. My friends are now either proud or relieved that I have truly moved on and it definitely feels good for me right now. It does leave a vacancy for a challenge though; I am feeling a new list of goals emerging… how exciting!

To Have Lived and Lost…

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badgers, cottage, country house, English, Grandborough, letting go, log fire, looking forward, memories, moving house, nostalgia, quaint

Today is the day I close the chapter completely. I am all packed and ready to move out of the adorable abode I once shared with whom I thought was the love of my life. When we moved here at Easter last year it was like a quaint little English fairytale, and we soon had friends in a flurry of envy. The little end of terrace village cottage with Two Badgers painted on the side of the house, thus giving it it’s name. The interior filled with aged-wood panels, beams and ledges. Close and cosy, and gloriously old-fashioned with just a log fire for heat. The quarter-hourly sound of the church bells ringing is a charm that I will surely miss. But it is better to have lived and lost than have never lived at all.

Now is the first time this year that my mind has painted this untainted nostalgic image of the bliss I had here. At first I’d not wanted to look back as it would make me reluctant to leave; lately I plunged into the practicalities and have not had the time for thinking. Here in the comfort of the bed, I’m smiling to think of how much I’ll hold these memories dear. If I talk of the good times some friends assume that it’s because I won’t let go, but this is me letting go; leaving behind the time, but never letting go of the memories. I’m looking forward… to everything, I have new places to be.

Oh, and I must thank Paul Doyle for painting these Two Badgers, and for making the cottage so lovely!

Close Friends and Distant Neighbours

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close friends, closeness, companionship, distance, friends, friendship, home, House share, journey, living alone, moving house, neighbours, people-watching, traveling

On Sunday morning I awoke on my friend’s sofa in Edinburgh. A sofa which you sink into and become a part of, one which I sunk into like a little copper coin, quite content to stay there for a long while. It’s nice to spend time with people that you feel comfortable with, where you can sit back, relax and be yourself.

I like that it doesn’t matter that I’ve now come home to a lonely cottage, because it’s now only 3-days until I move into my new house share. Most likely I should savour the tranquility of my solitude. Particularly after the train journey I had coming back from Edinburgh! I did say in my last post that I love journeys, and I absolutely do, it certainly was an experience and the people-watching earned a 5-star rating for entertainment. Being able to hear (and smell) a stag group from Crewe for 3-hours does make one glad of quiet sober nights at home on your own. Whilst on the other hand, watching two members of the England over-65s hockey team, one Asian guy with a terrific sense of humour and one quintessentially British chap, play back-to-back card games, gambling twenty pence a time, makes you appreciate the simple joys in life. After changing trains at New Street I met my next door neighbour; I learnt more about her in the 40-minute journey home than I’d known from a year of living the other side of the wall.

The disparities between emotional closeness and geographical closeness are fascinating. So too is the fascination with people who live their lives in such a way that is so contrasting to our own. We feel more comfortable watching from a far, but my most interesting friends are distinctly different to myself; our similarity is our appreciation for alternative ways of living.

Train of Thought

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Deftones, delays, destination, flooding, journey, Linkin Park, London Underground, people-watching, roadster, stop for a moment, storm, train, travelling, watching the world go by

When asked to list my interests, travelling is usually up there in my top 3, most likely alongside music and photography. It may be seem a bit of a cop out and used in the absence of any real hobbies but I genuinely mean it. I love to see new places, and revisit old favourites, but besides the destination I actually thoroughly enjoy the journey. The journey may involve me in my roadster, most likely speeding and screaming along at the top of my lungs to Linkin Park, Deftones or similarly racy angst. The journey may be people watching on the London Underground. Or the journey may be this one: a very delayed rail journey through a storm-suffered North-East coast, flooded with delays but with a charming air of people rallying together to ensure everyone reaches their destination. Whilst I do hope to reach mine at some point in the not-to-distant future I am also savouring this silent time of reading and writing, and editing of photos that I have taken on my past week of travels. I prefer if the train would keep moving as I like to watch the world go by but in both an actual and a metaphorical sense it is nice to stop for a moment and think.

In the theme of travelling, I am taking a break from illustrating this post and instead accompanying it with someone else’s creation which I found and photographed during my journey – the rainbow of the stormy concrete sky.

The White Noise or Whale Song of Advice

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Advice, Depressed, depression, Don't give up, Don't want to live, friends, Future, Hope, Just carry on, Loneliness, Mental Health, Suicide, Whale song

I feel as though I am awful at giving advice. I can formulate my thoughts into written words which may then be perceived as insightful and taken as advice, but it is purely theoretical. If I am approached for advice relating to a certain situation all I can do is ramble on. This may be a largely self-doubtful view and in actual fact I am not so bad as I think, but I believe there is more to it than that…

The real issue for me is when someone comes to me with depressive thoughts, with such a deep sadness that really nothing you say can even touch on the surface. When I was 16 a best friend of mine began to fall out of touch and it is only in retrospect that I believe this was due to depression. It was around the age of 14-16 that I was first depressed, meaning that at the time I was still scared of it; I had yet to accept it in myself so to see straight away someone else taking the same route rendered me useless, I think I built barriers with the denial. Failing to react to her depression is not something that was my fault nor something I regret per se, but a reminder I often bring to bear, something which now means I stubbornly refuse to let friends fall by the wayside.

I have touched on this issue since, but mostly with those that have come to terms with their depression in the way which I have, that means the ability to discuss it with a certain confidence of control and acceptance of it as a part of our being. The other night though, I’ve had to hear from someone that they no longer wish to “just carry on”. It’s not a surprise, this is someone whom I have openly talked with about our persistent feelings of loneliness, sorrow and absence of hope; but to hear those words is haunting. It has made me think, a lot. As I began to type my response I began to turn into the sort of person I want to ignore when I myself am feeling down and lonesome. Our help can never be what we want it to be. Either we are second guessing and we do not possess the direct experience to truly offer someone advice. Or we have the experience and it’s all too close so that our hearts ache as we recall the emotions; and in the case of depression, we know exactly the words that we ignore, we know just how dismissive we are to any suggestions or any implication of a potentially positive and improved situation because our belief of a future is nil.

It still beats being alone though, to have a voice beside you or a stream of black and white text before your eyes; it’s that tiny reminder that someone cares enough to try to make you feel better. You don’t want to say the wrong thing, but the words probably don’t matter anyway, your advice translates to the psyche like white noise or whale song.

Maybe the sounds just become what you want to hear… when you want to hear it.