Anything, Everything
Stress, anxiety and depression do not need a cause. There isn’t a blueprint to each one with outlined causes and risk factors. Poverty, while a huge risk factor, does not guarantee depression. Likewise, wealth does not guarantee happiness. It’s an age old comparison that we sometimes forget, but that doesn’t mean it’s okay to minimise someone’s suffering because we perceive them as privileged. We are all fighting those silent battles.
Job hunting is stressful, and never so stressful when you have bills to pay, and no money coming in. It’s not just a financial worry, it strains your mental wellbeing and your sense of self worth, too. To be employed, at the very least, gives a sense of independence, usefulness and productivity. No shit, Sherlock, you might say. But in a world in which Universal Credit and benefits are treated by some as a wage from a career they are fairly cosy in, being employed feels to some like a choice between taking money away from others who need those benefits more, or having that feeling at the end of the day when you can put your feet up, knowing you’ve earned it.
But there comes a time in so many jobs that many of us often dread; the knowledge that we need to move on. Maybe it’s boring, or dead end, or it just doesn’t pay enough anymore. And while having a secure income during the pandemic has felt more and more like a privilege, this imposing shadow might only grow as the world begins to open up. I write this blog now, as this is currently what I’m going through. For around 9 months now, I’ve been experiencing what I can only define as anxiety around my job; there’s no chance of advancement, and, to me, it doesn’t feel like I’m contributing anything to society beyond my taxes. I’m not helping anyone in the way that I want to, and instead I sit for around eight hours a day wondering what the hell I’m doing.
So what’s stopping me from moving on? Nothing at all. Besides, in fact, job security. Today, that is a biggy. Not all of us can afford to chase our dream careers. Me? I want to be a counsellor. But in my neck of the woods, training and education beyond my degree and level four diplomas would take me out of work for more time than my managers would allow. I would need whole days to travel to a university an hour’s train ride away for lectures and placements and no earnings. Where I live, unless you want a career in finance, it’s very difficult to find anything.
But that doesn’t mean you should dismiss those concerns. So, what are the signs?
There are tons of other signs to look out for, because they are personal to you. The above are only my personal experiences. But what can you do in this situation? It’s always scary to make that choice to move on, but theres a way to go about it. If you’re having doubts about your employment, have a word with your immediate superior and let them know that you’re thinking about looking for another job. If you have that kind of relationship, they will only respect your openness for being so honest. Keeping your CV up to date can give you the sense of worth that you may have forgotten from months or years of doing the same thing over and over. We’re constantly learning new skills, and remember to include an ‘about me’ section, because not everything is learned on the job. Also, if you’re on the fence about leaving your job despite your reservations, volunteering might be for you.
Good luck!
Anxiety is one of those things that all of us have experienced, and, when it conflicts with our everyday life, we might get a diagnosis. Social anxiety, generalised anxiety disorder, panic attacks, agoraphobia…. as time goes on, anxiety is becoming more and more commonplace, made aware of, and diagnosed. I’ve suffered with anxiety for most, if not all, of my teenage and adult years, and while I’ve never been diagnosed with anything, I don’t need a weatherman to tell me it’s raining, and I let it stop me doing what I wanted for a large portion of my life.
One particular incident that sticks in my mind is being scared to go to school. I had no reason to be, but I was at home in my living room staring at the front door, in tears. It was completely random, and probably happened three times during my whole time at secondary school. Another time was when I had a panic attack at the front of class during a presentation. But I’ve discussed my fear of public speaking before.
So how do you get out of letting anxiety rule you to the point of not going out, simply because your heart races at the very idea? Anxiety and panic manifests in so many different scenarios for people; going to class, going to work, before a big life event like a wedding, or when confronted by the very thing we are most afraid of without really knowing why. The key is to confront your fear, but in a measured, structured way. Of course, this process is different for everyone. It might be a case of defining a list of what we’d like to achieve and working through each item, step by step.
First and foremost, anxiety is defined by worry, panic and negative thoughts. The typical cycle begins with a event, that typically triggers a negative thought and that leads to a feeling. Often this will lead to us fearing similar events. One example might be to be among work colleagues, and you say something; maybe it was a joke that no one laughed at, or you stated a fact and were told you were wrong. I use this example because I used to be terrified of saying something wrong incase I was seen as stupid, and would get flustered any time I was ever even responded to. In this case, you might get embarrassed, you heart might beat hard and your palms become sweaty. Later that night it is likely to run around in circles in your head like an old film on a loop.
So How Might You Break Out of this Behaviour?
1. Narrow down your fears – it can be easy to let your anxiety bleed into everything you do. Fear of social situations can cause one to become scared of going out in general, even to the local shop. Anxiety in the form of phobias can have a huge impact on whether we go out to certain places. If someone is scared of heights, this may greatly diminish the likelihood of boarding an aeroplane. But where does the fear stem from? It might be such a long standing fear that it might be impossible to tell, but consider instead what makes you anxious about these situations. Do phone calls make you nervous? Why is that? Is it because you’re not able to see the facial expressions of the other person? If you scared of dogs, can that be rooted to an experience?
2. Separate rational from the irrational – the most known definition of a phobia is an “irrational fear” of a situation or object we might come across in our every day life. Now, there are so many different phobias around now that it’s impossible to know what all of them are. Some, I believe, are fully rational. Fear of heights, blood and confined spaces are all rational in my opinion, because they all present a real danger. Not all fears are to be overcome; anxiety is an evolutionary technique of self preservation to keep ourselves safe, and if we perceive something as being dangerous, such as a large spider, while it might pose a real threat to ourselves if we don’t live in countries like Austrailia, it is there for a reason.
3. Set your boundaries, and respect them – don’t do anything you don’t want to do, but if you have to, work up to it. This might be meeting with a large group of friends as an end goal for someone with social phobia. Start with a phone call with a friend, or perhaps a video chat. You’re in your own comfortable space, in your own comfort zone, and you can leave whenever you like. If you need to, have a reason to leave prepared. Maybe the doorbell went, or you have something cooking.
4. Talk, and listen – anxiety is far more common than anyone might think. The cruelty (and the saving grace) is that everyone has experienced anxiety, and its highly isolating effects. It’s so easy to feel alone during a panic attack, and we might avoid potentially helpful experiences in case they trigger one. But talking can help, if you’re talking to someone who’s willing to be open about it. Thankfully all of my friends, close family and fiance have all had experiences with anxiety that have made them open about it, because they know. They know the value of talking about it, of describing each feeling and why they felt it.
5. Challenge yourself – once in a while, you’ve just got to think, well, fuck it. My big step was going somewhere alone. I really tried with the cinema, but try as my logical mind did, I still pictured being the only tragic person alone watching The Phantom Thread at Cineworld in an empty auditorium, a single shadow. So on that day, I figured I’d do something else equally daunting, and potentially more empowering; going for lunch in a restaurant by myself. I had my book, it was wonderful. The weather was lovely, I had no rush in me because I had a half day at work. Bliss. I couldn’t be stopped after that until…well, you know. And by the way, if anyone if unentertained enough by their eating companion to notice and judge you for being alone, don’t worry. They’re most likely envious that they haven’t got the confidence to do it.
6. Recognise the benefits – there are far more benefits to breaking free of the restricting habits. But, of course, the safety of the cocoon anxiety nets around us leaves us at little risk of danger. In this cocoon, we cannot make a fool of ourselves, cannot say the wrong thing, and probably wont have a panic attack unless we think really hard about the toll anxiety is having on our lives and our mental wellbeing. But to break out of that let’s you become more aware of your strengths and that, despite your worries, you were still able to make the push outwards.
Ways I Conquered the Rule Anxiety Had
1. Going for lunch alone
2. Going to lectures and library talks alone
3. Going on holiday without my parents (I have an absolute conviction every time I line up for check in that I’ve arrived on the wrong day).
4. Taking charge of meals with friends and family by booking myself.
5. Making phonecalls
6. Going to London alone
7. Presenting an idea to my workmates before I had time to get nervous and didn’t say a thing
Social media can be great, but it can also be toxic. Pointing out the obvious, I know. But I have a specific reason for that. As an artist, I know how easy it is to get sucked into the world of follow for follow and what not. This is my second post on this topic, because really it just makes me sad to see people burn themselves out chasing likes, follows and fame.
The truth is, there’s a sad reality around being an artist on social media. And it’s this; for every artist who gets recognition, there’s hundreds who give up on their craft, or their aspirations to be a good or great artist, because they think no one is paying attention to their work. They think, “if no one likes my work, this means I’m no good,” or the like. This is not the case. I’m going to be blunt here, I’ve seen many great, skilled artists with very few followers on Instagram, while those with limited skill have thousands. I myself have under 300, and this used to bother me.
And then, the other day, I saw on Facebook someone griping about not being able to get above 750 followers, because people followed and unfollowed days later, and so posted her link on a few art pages for people to follow. This was responded to with the dreaded ‘follow for follow’ requests.
Now, I think what her problem was was that each person who unfollowed was formally expecting a follow in return, and so stubbornly clicked that button in protest. So many artists want something in return for their simple click of a button, and that is how it has become such a powerful action, the difference, for some, between having a day confident of one’s skill, or thinking you’re a failure because not enough people liked your latest post.
But I’ve being thinking about this during this pandemic. Afterall, if anything it has been a time for reflection, where social media has become such a prized tool for networking, what with an opportunity for small businesses to potentially thrive in the face of mass store closures. Drawing may be your income, but for those of us who just like to create, where do you draw the line?
This is how I see it;
1. Being an artist is often about reciprocation ; you’ll get a follow or a like because people like your work. Sometimes, however, it’s because they want your likes and follows in return.
2. If you draw for likes, you’re not creating for good reasons ; drawing is such a sharable, useful skill. But what is the point in doing something that ought to be relaxing, inspiring or just something that is meant to bring you joy, if you’re going to get stressed and miserable over it instead?
3. Stick to what you’re good at ; some people can pluck an idea out of their head, and put it to paper. Others can replicate a face directly with pencils. But if you have a niche, no matter how obscure it is, that will bring you much more happiness than attempting a shareable fan art piece of the latest movie character you probably don’t care about.
4. Think about turning art into your income; really think about it. Drawing day in and night out might sound like a tremendous gift, but do you really want to turn something you love into a chore? I remember when I was fourteen, having started my GCSEs at school, and I chose media instead of art. I was told this was stupid numerous times because, for me, they thought art would be an easy win. Even one of my teachers told me I wasted a GCSE. But I also love film, and thats why I chose media studies. It wasn’t wasting a qualification in anyway, and if anything, I feel I love my skill more because I have a choice in it. But customers, in short, can be crabby. Most are delightful, don’t get me wrong, but you also get the ones who don’t understand that a drawing is an interpretation, not a print out. Drawing is a honed skill with a person’s hand doing it, not a soulless computer. It takes time, resources and confidence to put yourself out there, and confidence can shatter just like that.
I’m not trying to put anyone off. In fact, I’m trying to be that pragmatic person who wants artists to keep loving what they do. If you don’t get so many likes as you thought you would, that’s okay. Van Gogh was questioned, doubted and insulted for his percieved lack of skill, and today is arguably the most celebrated artist of his generation. There’s so many of us now, and so much talent out there. Talent shouldn’t be wasted on shallow things such as likes.
Nothing starts a good day like a calming walk early in the morning. And the brighter mornings mean images such as these to look up to on the way.
If you have read any of my earlier blogs, you would know that I love a good list. Or, at least, loved. They’re organised, neat, and just creating one can give you a sense of productivity and control. A list represents order, allotted time for certain tasks.
But there’s another side to them, too. Lists can show you how much you have to get done, how much you think you have to do, just to complete the list. If you’re the way I was, an incomplete list is like having an altogether unproductive day. For me, having just one item left, forgotten about or pushed back until the end of the day, was both frustrating and daunting. If i’m honest, it was usually my 10 minute session on Duolingo, learning some French I probably wouldn’t remember afterwards. If I did it, it was the bare minimum, but it counted, didn’t it?
Not necessarily.
I can’t remember the last list I made. I haven’t abandoned them altogether mind, and that’s not what I’m suggesting. But really, what does a to do list contribute towards getting all that necessary, and unnecessary, stuff done? Because I’ve found that not tying myself to a task not only makes me more productive, but it also leaves me much more free time.
So this year I made a dreaded, apparently doomed to fail new years resolution. Doomed to fail because, beyond the first couple of weeks of January, aren’t resolutions doomed to fail by simple self fulfilling prophesy? I think people make them sometimes just to fail them, and then they can laugh about it later about how naive they were, how hopeful they began the shit storm of a year behind them (for some people, no matter what happened in that year, it’s inevitably going to be branded a shit storm.). There’s almost a culture being created around choosing drinking wine in place of a workout and moaning about the shape of the globe on Facebook. But anyway, I digress. Where was I?
Oh yeah, lists.
So I made a resolution to start learning guitar. Properly, this time. A few of my friends have done it, I started back when I was 14. Despite owning three guitars, one of which I made myself, I never could remember a single chord. I tried to stick to this resolution last year, too, but alas, apparently a pandemic gives you copious amounts of time, but its not always paired with motivation. Usually, I would look at the item on my list marked ‘guitar practice’ and pass it off as unimportant. I’ll do more tomorrow.
Now that I don’t make lists, I not only get to practising every day, but I remember more too. And this hasn’t just been the case for guitar. I decided to start learning Spanish on Duo, and I’m on my 31 day streak. I draw more, I read more, I’m more organised in my yoga and running (every Monday, Wednesday and Friday) and still manage to keep the apartment tidy, my bearded dragon alive and set aside more hours than I’m happy to admit on the internet to binge watching Supernatural. I’m not humble bragging (okay maybe just a bit, but now that I meditate I think the smug bug has got me just a tinsy bit) but I think this just shows how unessential lists are. A list can organise your time, but they can also create chores out of things you ought to enjoy. Hobbies are there for exactly that. Enjoyment. And as for cleaning, am I wrong for enjoying this too? It’s a part of life, we might as well make the best of it.
My point is, there comes a point where you’re doing things not because you want to, but because you feel like to have to. It’s exhausting, and its not as productive as you think. If you want to do it, do it. But you don’t have to. And don’t be scared to have a nothing day. Brains get tired, you know.
How would you define sexual harassment? I guess that’s a loaded question, because today, we know that sexual harassment is much more wide spread than previously acknowledged. And, its not about sexual attraction. Much of the time, knowingly sexually harassing someone is a power trip. Even to those who don’t know they’re making someone uncomfortable, often they will ignore these complaints. From personal experience, anyway.
Now, I know that sexual harassment works both ways. Men and woman alike are guilty of it, as with everything. I also believe that women, in today’s society, are given more free reign in that respect. But that’s another post for another time.
Sexual harassment isn’t black and white. As I have learned, its a complex process I didn’t understand could be so damaging until knowingly experiencing myself, a couple of times in one work place to varying degrees. Two examples come to mind.
My first experience includes a man the work force acknowledged as a well meaning, yet odd fellow. Much older than I was, and yet we worked in a place in which the huge workforce contained many different kinds of people, and we talked. Soon, I heard rumours that he’d been talking about me while I wasn’t around, commenting on my tattoo and about how I looked that day. I also heard that he was telling people he was in love with someone in the work place, and they began to put two and two together. We lived near eachother, and he would cross the road to talk to me, and stare into my home as he walked passed.
The second example was more acute. The above happened over years; this one took a month. Another man, who’d started exhibiting strange behavior and outbursts though known for being mild mannered, asked to walk me home. I said no (politely), and later that day he got in my face, in front of other staff, and warned me against gossiping. A few days later, he gave me a handwritten letter. In it, he disclosed that he was romantically interested in me, an interest I’d repaid with physical and verbal flirtations. I had never spoken to the man. He warned me against playing with his emotions, and accused me of outwardly lying to him about my relationship status. He signed it.
I reported him the following day, and despite warnings against coming up to me, he did. He tried to punch the guy who tried to remind him of what he’d been told, and he was fired.
During this, I actually Google searched what constituted as sexual harassment, or just harassment in general. To me, harassment had to be defined by certain behaviours and actions before I could report it. And yet, I discovered that it wasn’t so simple, and yet, I had many more grounds than I thought.
If someone is making you uncomfortable, it shouldn’t be on you to cope with it, and let them go on. Don’t feel sorry for the lonely individual who doesn’t seem to realize they’re being a bit full on. They might make excuses for themselves, and they might even think that their emotions absolve them of any blame. It doesn’t. You are not responsible for how they feel, or think they feel, much like I wasn’t responsible for those two people. When they were asked to stay away and respect my boundaries, did they listen? Not very closely.
Some people only have to be told once, and they leave you alone. Others don’t realize their error, or do, but carry on anyway. That can make you feel so powerless, but you aren’t. Companies, at the very least, are obligated to listen. And don’t think that your harassment story doesn’t count. Yes, there are many more extreme examples. But who’s to say yours couldn’t become one of them, if not nipped in the bud?
So today I was getting a bit antsy, for various reasons. And I realised before lunch I hadn’t done this. I went for a walk, and noticed how suddenly my attention was diverted from the annoyances of my morning to looking for something pretty. A nice little mindfuless exercise blossomed. Who knew? I found this very small flower in the midst of some barren branches.
If there’s one phrase I keep hearing, its “I can’t wait for 2020 to be over” and the like. And yes, I get that. Its been a turbulent year. But the reality is that the pandemic will not be limited to 2020. In fact, the pandemic for many parts of the world began before 2020. Today, I wondered whether I’d still be judging people for not wearing a mask or standing 2 meters apart in a year’s time. It feels like second nature now, to distance and mask up each time I’m in a shop, and sneer at those for not doing so. Its been a unique year, to say the least.
But does that mean its write off? For many who have lost loved ones, who have been isolated, or who have faced this pandemic from the front line, perhaps that is the case. 2020 for many has, in short, been an absolute shit storm. Redundancies, job losses, cut backs, companies closing because they cannot fund running in the midst of a virus that results in reduced custom. But for the rest of us, 2020 has meant more time with family, working in the comfort of our jammies, and having just that little bit more time to take stock of our mental and physical health. Rather than declare 2020 as just a year that shouldn’t count, I’m taking it from my privileged position as a period in history in which I was there. Taking the good with the bad.
So what has 2020 been to me? And yes, I’m focusing on the positives. There’s too much negativity in the world to begin with.
2020 has meant branching out. More and different books, trying a few different crafts, watching a few different films. TV shows I’ve never thought about watching before. Having that time has meant not being too tired after a day’s work to do anything more than flopping on the sofa to watch the same old same old.
2020 has meant more time for education. I started and finished (and passed) my first module for my masters degree. Due to working from home, my lunch breaks and down time were filled with essays and reading as opposed to mindless scrolling through my phone.
2020 has meant fitness goals. Back in March I ran my first 10km, as I was meant to be doing a charity 10k elsewhere. Instead, I did it on my own, on a treadmill, in my living room, with a virtual tour of Vienna on the go on my TV. I’ve also been working more on my yoga, and I’m sure I’ve progressed (somehow).
2020 has meant more painting. Art has been in my life since my first bronchiosaurus drawing at the age of 5. But this year I’ve done many more commisions than usual, and its given me the chance to develop. I’ve painted birds and babies for the first time. Turns out I’m not too shabby if I do say so myself.
2020 has meant new experiences. I’ve never worked from home before, and I do quite like it. I passed my 1 year anniversary at my job on the 18th. Its also given me the drive to take my first long weekend trip on my own, which was not only greatly needed, but a big kick in my confidence of my own independence too.
2020 has meant moving out – last week, I moved in to an apartment with my fiance. A couple of arguments with the company selling us our table later (a further couple about the broadband) and I think we’re actually formulating a home.
2020 has, in short, meant progress. I’m a true believer in baby steps, that progress counts everywhere, and can happen anywhere. If you’re reading this, you have survived this pandemic so far. Maybe you’ve partaken in the plays streamed on YouTube, taken up a long distance course to pass the time. Maybe you’ve used your time to learn a few guitar chords. Whatever this year has been, its been an experience. Whether good or bad, we’re still here.
Merry Chrimbo and a Happy New Year
Xx
I have a kind of fondness for writers who write based on themselves. There’s no pretention about the emotions described, because you get the sense that they’ve felt them, thought about them in hind sight, thought about how to project them in a way the reader will understand. The reader, such as myself, will know only too well. Nora is that kind of character. A character whose gotten in her own way, filled with potential and yet, somehow missed the boat.
I kept seeing this book trending on Twitter. I rarely go on Twitter. I only started going on when I heard about all the drama going on, some people declaring unpopular opinions and insights (some I agreed with) while others i intended to join the band of argumentative many. The only time I have done this is in fact when one particular actor decided to break lockdown rules and insult the NHS while he was at it. Anyway, I’m babbling. It was on Twitter that I learned about this book, probably the only good Twitter has done me.
Now, I knew what this book was about before I got it. Its about regrets. I neglected to read it so soon because I hadn’t finished a book in a month or so. I also had a feeling how it would end. The character lives in Bedford, and I’m hoping that’s an intentional clue (Bedford Falls is the hometown of one George Bailey). Its not a book for those who like twists and turns, or much else besides musings about inner psychologies of the average Joe. But its not trying to be anything but. Its nice, relatable, and its a believable journey. She doesn’t end up with all the answers. But its a start.
I also think this is a good book for someone who’s thinking about writing themselves, such as myself. The writing isn’t sophisticated or flowery, or at least that’s the impression I got. It was a blow by blow, some parts like a diary in how emotions were described. As I say, in a detail that suggested the writer felt them himself.
I like any writer who bases a character on themselves. There’s a line, of course (Stephanie Meyer, Twilight). But that shouldn’t discourage budding writers to use themselves too, should it? A large portion of Stephen King’s leading characters are male writers.
So why should you read this book, now? Well, because this is a time when many of us are standing still, watching time go by while others are making waves in their respective relevant fields. Some are thriving, while others are stuck at home in front of a screen wondering what happened. Social media filled with people making the best of their time while they have it. This book serves as a reminder that what ifs don’t always mean happiness, or fulfillment. It makes sense, too, in a none cheesy way.
Paint a Mental Picture 