Equilibrium Magazine for Wellbeing, Issue 62 by Anthony Parke

ISSUE 62 / 2017

>> Bring Back the Joy >> Nature of Forgetting >> Overcoming Despair >> Wellbeing News >> Art, Science & Reviews >> ... and much more!

MAGAZINE FOR WELLBEING

Equilibrium Patron Dr Liz Miller Mind Champion 2008

Front cover courtesy of Reimund Bertrams

What Equilibrium means to meâ&#x20AC;Ś. WEB ALERTS If you know anyone who would like to be on our mailing list and get the magazine four times a year (no spam!) please email: equilibriumteam@hotmail. co.uk (www.haringey.gov.uk/ equilibrium). Equilibrium is devised, created, and produced entirely by team members with experience of the mental health system. Photo copyright remains with all individual artists and Equilibrium. All rights reserved. 2011

Graphic Design: Anthony J. Parke

I enjoyed writing a short article for the mental health magazine Equilibrium based on my personal experience of having a mental illness for the last 20 years. The office environment and people were all friendly and gave support on tap, especially when you got stuck for ideas or needed technical help using the computer. The other contributors present all shared a mental health history, so gelled well together and we were made to feel very welcome. Norman I found Equilibrium at a crucial point, where I found an open door to try a new healing form of writing and expression. Honest, happy, healthy. One thing I have to say, I go at my own pace and learn little lessons on computers, in art and writing, communicating, and ultimately a chance to get some self-confidence and self-esteem back after being belittled and degraded and abused. I found the open light of Equilibrium at the end of a dark tunnel of life. Equilibrium gives me a purpose. Thank you. Blessings. Richard The magazine means a lot to me for the reason is that it allows me to write about various aspects of mental health and wellbeing. This is one of the only places where you can talk about this sticky matter and issues surrounding wellbeing. Working here also allows me to meet like-minded people, who are passionate about talking about their experiences of their conditions. Seeing these issues being published spreads information on mental health, and other topics, even further. Devzilla Equilibrium has been a fantastic form of expression for me. I have the choice to write about what I want and I can put my ideas into practice. I have been with Equilibrium since 2007 and I never run out of ideas of things to write about. I have enjoying writing articles, and reviews about plays, books and galleries. The Equilibrium team has changed from time to time, but we still manage to produce four copies of the magazine a year. Angela

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EDITORIAL Welcome to the 62nd edition of Equilibrium. As the new editor of this wonderful magazine, I would like to say how happy I am to join such a great team. Thank you for making my Friday afternoons so enjoyable. I would like to take this opportunity to thank our former facilitator, Kate, for allowing me to shadow her; you, along with Anthony and the rest of the team, all made me feel so incredibly welcome! I wish you the best of luck with your PhD. This edition is a cornucopia of touching contributions, from living with schizoaffective disorder to experiencing the happiness caused by becoming a dog owner. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I have. If you would like to send us your own insights, please see below. Remember: Equilibrium is not possible without you. Namaste. Emily, Editor/Team Facilitator

DISCLAIMER Equilibrium is produced by service users. Reproduction in whole or in part is strictly forbidden without the prior permission of the Equilibrium team. Products, articles and services advertised in this publication do not necessarily carry the endorsement of Equilibrium or any of our partners. Equilibrium is published and circulated electronically four times a year to a database of subscribers; if you do not wish to receive Equilibrium or have received it by mistake, please email unsubscribe to equilibriumteam@hotmail.co.uk

THE TEAM Facilitator/Editor: Emily Sherris Editorial team: Dev, Angela, Nigel, Richard, Richard.

CONTACT US Equilibrium, Clarendon Recovery College, Clarendon Road, London, N8 ODJ. 0208 489 4860, equilibriumteam@hotmail.co.uk. We are in the office on Friday afternoons 2.30-4.30, but you can leave a message at other times and weâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll get back to you.

CONTRIBUTIONS Wanted: contributions to Equilibrium! Please email us with your news, views, poems, photos, plus articles. Anonymity guaranteed if required.

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Illustrations: Ella Baron ‘There’s a claustrophobia about student life; you work and eat and drink and dance and sleep together. It gives everything a painful intensity. But living back-toback can leave you feeling so alone. I hate hearing the music coming through my neighbour’s wall.’

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Summer/ Issue 38

Wellbeing News Mental Health in Pictures

The Vulnerability of Prince Harry

Ella Baron creates eleven vivid snap-

In April, Prince Harry demonstrated the

shots of how undergraduate students

vulnerable and introspective part of

perceive university milieus. This is a

his personality during an interview with

response to the results released by the

Bryony Gordon. He explained that

Higher Education Statistics Agency

losing his mother had had a signifi-

(HESA) that indicate a 210% increase

cant impact on his mental health,

in dropouts prompted by mental

but twenty years elapsed before he

health issues. Visit the page below

admitted to himself that he needed

to see these gorgeous and thought-

therapeutic intervention. Various

provoking pictures (see left).

mental health professionals have

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Happy Hour - Bring the Joy Back “The quality of life is in proportion, always, to the capacity for delight” - May Sarton

Natasha Bergg

oy is defined in the dictionary as a feeling of pleasure or happiness. We know it’s a

feeling that we like, but, from my experience, it’s elusive: we can’t find the time to do things we enjoy, for example, or we somehow don’t allow ourselves the space to relax and have fun. Sometimes, we even seem to search too hard for it, to no avail. I’ve certainly found that it’s a sneaky feeling that pops up every now and then. It can be a spark that fades almost as it lights up or, occasionally, a more long-lasting feeling. Because how often do we do something, or allow ourselves to do something, for the sheer pleasure of it, particularly in the fast-moving world of a big city? As a freelance artist and educator who has worked on community theatre projects with young people and adults for a number of years and who specialises in a playful approach to workshops, I have the privilege of doing something purely for the fun of it more than most people I know. I have friends and family who work in a variety of different

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professions and who are trying to make a

levels, however open they choose to be

range of different lifestyles work. Recently,

about sharing it.

I’ve noticed that our conversations often

And so I’ve started a new project called

fall upon their feelings of needing a break,

Happy Hour, which is open to adults of all

being just too busy and not being able

ages and is currently running as early even-

to find time and space to do things they

ing workshops. I hope to eventually run

enjoy.

this as a longer course of sessions, where a

Having started Theatre Troupe (http:// www.theatretroupe.org/), a community arts organisation that works with young

small group can get to know each other over an extended period of time. Each session starts with a visual art or

people with acute and complex mental

making activity. Participants don’t need to

health problems, I came to realise that

arrive right at the beginning, so it doesn’t

the successful way in which we’re working

matter if you’re running late. There’s tea

with young people who almost all suffer

and chat, and then we move on to the

from some kind of anxiety could easily

more active part of the session, which

and effectively be applied to working with

usually features some gently imaginative

almost any group in any setting, in order to

exercises that bring participants together

establish a safe, supported space where

in pairs, small groups and the group as

people can relax, connect with others, be

a whole, with the aim of being in the

creative and have fun. It feels almost a bit

moment and…yes, you guessed it, having

selfish to not share this way of working with

fun! This is combined with a few guided

other groups, particularly as many adults

activities around things that you enjoy and

I know experience anxiety at different

exchanging ideas with the group about

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how to get more joy into daily life. The

stopped, and yet the steady beat of

session is brought to a close with a final

her heart carried on, her breath’s regu-

round of tea and a few moments for

lar rhythm gently causing her chest to

reflection, with the option to stay and

rise and fall. She smiled.”

chat for a while. Having done a bit of research around wellness at work, it seems that some companies are taking some really good steps to address the effects that a rapidly changing, often uncertain, urban world is having on their employees. For me, the key to this is to offer play, laughter, a chance

Happy Hour workshops currently take place from 6:30pm – 9:00pm on Wednesday evenings in Clerkenwell at the trial rate of £7.50 per person (£10 for 2 people if you bring a friend). For more information, please email Natasha at bringthejoyback@gmail.com. You can also find out more by visiting bringthejoyback.wordpress.com.

to be in the moment, reflection and a space for face-to-face (rather than electronic) connection with others. This is what I’ve tried to do with Happy Hour. Maybe I’ll see you at a workshop sometime. “And she stood and looked around at the open, friendly smiling faces around her and swam deep in the silence. And she continued to do nothing but stand and look, feeling a sense of connectedness that needed no explanation. The complete stillness of the room made her feel as if time had

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Summer/ Issue 38

Mustard Snarls Emily Sherris

I step through the door, Eyes are filled with “what was that for” Tears. The fears are dervishing within my core, And I try to remember the minutiae that ebb wickedly. That woman: the subject of suspected bluster. I think I shook my head, flustered, But I am au fait with how a murmur may Be akin to the mustard snarls of others. This is what they say. The uncertainty does not make them deplore themselves In the same way. But, I must say, I was flirting with an urge that was hurting my moral compass. The train station id that passengers hunger for. The rush hour surliness that explodes when someone bumps us. When she shoved me to one side, I shied away from fiery “are you blinds?” And in my furious imagination, I relished all kinds of punitive thoughts. But my conscience is fraught: did I say the monstrous words that were in my mind?

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Summer/ Issue 38

Cutting Corners Sandra Poku

ill I ever learn? I ask myself

we accept our situation, the sooner

this time and time again. I

we can begin the battle to over-

believe that things come in threes

come it. When I lived in London, I

for a reason, an odd number. No

lived the life of fast living. I rushed to

equal pairing here. My parents had

find work after university, anything

three children, and I am the middle

as long as it was a permanent job.

sibling in the family. However, I

I rushed to buy a car, a flat, all the

didn’t share the unique bond that

grown-up things that are expected

my brother and sister shared. I have

of young Londoners. Yes, I admit I

lived in three places in my time:

felt pressured to live the fast, excit-

London, Liverpool and Poole. I have

ing London life that you hear about

had three long-term relationships,

in the media all the time.

and I have three health conditions

I was constantly on the go. I

that I battle with to this day. They

rushed to work for five days and

are eczema, asthma and the last

spent the weekend sleeping to

illness that I want to share with you.

recharge my flickering batteries.

This illness is not something I can

How long could I keep this up for?

ignore or dismiss. I can’t pretend

Yes, I ignored the warning signs of

it’s not happening. There comes

fatigue, moodiness and loneliness.

a time when you have to accept

Until that Sunday in October

illness. I have learnt that the sooner

2008 when I turned up at my mum’s

cont.

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house, unsure of where I was or who I

no control over what was happen-

was. I went into the kitchen and stared

ing to my mind and body that Sunday

at my mum with a blank expression on

morning. What I did know was that my

my face.

life would never be the same again. I

“Sandra, are you alright?” she asked. I just stared back at her. “Sandra, what’s wrong?” I ran out

was entering a new chapter in life, one month before I turned thirty-five. I was picked up by the police and taken

of the kitchen, out of the front door and

away in an ambulance with an animal

continued to run down the street. I was

cage in the back. I had no idea where

running for my life.

I was going, and I was not able to run

My mum shouted to my sister,

away. I was, however, running away

“Michelle, come quickly! Sandra is not

from my past, my childhood. Soon I

well.”

would be confronted with it all at the

I had an out-of-body experience whilst in my flat; something had left

end of the cage journey. There would be no more wing-

my soul. That afternoon, I would have

ing it, no more unexpected temper

all the answers I needed in my life.

tantrums and unexplained emotional

Answers: isn’t that what we are here

outbursts. For when my road journey

for? We want answers to all kinds of

ended and I had reached my destina-

questions. We live our lives for answers.

tion in the ambulance, thirty-four years

For thirty-four years, I didn’t understand myself, my strange behaviour and intense emotions. I felt like I had

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of unexplained behaviour would finally become clear to me. I would wake up in Mascalls Park, a

Summer/ Issue 38

psychiatric hospital in Brentwood, Essex.

“What about my rights?” I screamed.

I realised that these surroundings would

I soon discovered the power of the

become like a second home to me.

section; in essence, I didn’t have any

Later that week, I would be diagnosed with an illness that would come to dominate my life. Daily medication

rights. The medical staff were in control of my life, and that was the end of it. Fast forward eight years. My diagno-

would distort my appearance and

sis may have changed to schizoaffec-

change how I lived my life. I desperately

tive disorder, but the same battles are

tried to hang onto my size 10 frame

still there. I must stress the importance

and battled to stay awake. My label

of talking to the medical professionals

would no longer be plain and simple

about your experience with the different

Sandra. I was Schizophrenic Sandra and

medications; what works for someone

no amount of arguing with the doctors

might not work for you. After trying four

would change that. As I let the medica-

different medications in eight years, I

tion dissolve in my mouth like a baby

discovered that Quetiapine appears

unable to swallow, I realised that they

to give me the fewest side effects. I am

had turned me into a zombie. I also had

compliant.

to battle with my new-found desire to eat bread every five minutes.

I have finally accepted my diagnosis and have adjusted my life in unimagina-

“I am not schizophrenic,” I pleaded

ble ways to keep out of hospital. I have

with the doctors. They had made a terri-

relocated, changed employment hours

ble mistake. In fact, I wanted to know

and slowed right down in order to go

why I was in hospital in the first place.

back to being plain and simple Sandra.

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Summer/ Issue 38

The Trials of a Dog Owner (The secrets that dogs know) Nigel Prestatyn

ooking back over the years, we’ve had twelve dogs in the family. I’m

Rose began as a loan dog. Is loaning a dog even ethical? Every two

not going to inflict all their names on

weeks or so, her mother (human)

you, even though I am sorely tempted.

would allow us to keep Rose for the

These twelve dogs (Chico was one)

weekend. In fact, she would loan Rose

have spanned a forty year period.

to a whole network of friends and

Always ‘family’ dogs. I personally have

family. Rose was a lot for her to handle,

never owned a dog of my own – that

by all accounts. A newly acquired job

is, until Rose walked into our lives two

meant that mum was no longer at

weeks ago. This little shih tzu/ bichon

home through the day. The son, who

frise (yes, I know) has altered our lives

lived with his father part-time, was also

somewhat; perhaps much in the way,

not around enough. That meant Rose

though to a lesser extent (obviously),

was either home alone or being sent to

that a newborn child does. Rose has

multiple surrogate owners (of which we

introduced me to THE GREAT BRITISH

were one).

OUTDOORS! Well, yes, I knew there was

At some point in this loan system,

one out there, but, frankly, I never paid

Rose’s owner comically suggested that

it much attention.

we take ownership of Rose. Let’s put

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this offer into context. This offer coincided

the owners of Rose and entered into an

with our constant searching on animal

extended family of dog lovers – or, more

shelter websites for a dog of our own. Our

specifically, an extended family of Rose

kids wanted a dog. We tried fobbing them

lovers. Every fortnight, when the son returns

off with the lure of a gerbil, but that some-

from his father’s for the weekend, he gets

how didn’t work. We upped the stakes and

to spend quality time with Rose. If they

offered them a cat. This pricked up their

require her more, we parley.

ears mildly, but they weren’t buying it. A

I’m writing this today, because this is

cat just wasn’t a dog. For one, a dog has

the day I have realised just how much

a fully fleshed out personality. Cats don’t.

Rose has positively affected our lives. I’m

They are rudimentary at best, and kids

self-employed. In fact, I’m close to being

know that. And so, our relentless search

a workaholic. Taking a lunch break is

for a cute, little, low-maintenance dog

unheard of for me. But today was differ-

persisted, until rumours of a possible trans-

ent. Today, I took the entire morning off.

ference of ownership began to surface.

Opening the curtains, the sun was shining,

A glitch in these ‘talks’ soon arose. The

beckoning me (after a few overcast days

son loved the dog but, like the mother, was

of drizzling rain). Rose sat there, gawping

never around enough for Rose. This made

at me with doe-like eyes. I actually set off

it unfair on her, and they both knew it. Then

for work. I got in the car. I drove for five

the owners had a eureka moment. One

minutes. And then I thought, Hold on. Why

day, we got a phone call from the son. He

don’t I take Rose for a walk! Go with the

wanted to turn the tables. As a result, we

FEELING...

have become Rose’s new owners, and

We have a lovely nature reserve at

we loan her to them every fortnight for

the back of our flats. A mile or so stretch

the weekend! And this is how we became

of abandoned railway, given over to

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Summer/ Issue 38

dog walkers and joggers. This nature

But she mocked, chased, barked and

reserve runs into an expansive Finsbury

mocked some more. However, she didn’t

Park. One of the drawbacks of having a

know about the creature lurking behind

new dog is getting them to come back.

her. A chocolate Labrador came bound-

These are the hidden stresses of owner-

ing up to her, corralling her into my arms.

ship. We walked for two hours, and then,

Rose needs training. ‘Train or Lose’ is my

in the park, I let her off the lead. Dogs

new dog motto.

are supposed to run free. However, I’ve

This story is about how one little dog

come to realise that letting a dog off the

can change the pattern of a near worka-

lead is far easier than getting a dog back

holic overnight. For my part, I look forward

onto the lead. I suddenly saw visions of

to Rose stealing me away from an envi-

our cute, fluffy furball bolting off into the

ronment which is not a particularly natural

distance…FOREVER. You’ve seen the post- or healthy place to be. I look forward to ers on the trees. She listened attentively to

Rose stealing me away and taking me

my feeble requests for her return.

to the green spaces of London. We are so blessed to have a plethora of beautiful parks and walks in this city, green areas which I don’t tap into as often as I should. I neglect the health benefits of these natural spaces. The outdoors is good for the spirit. No doubt there are a thousand papers dedicated to studies on the subject. Rose knows this, and Rose is teaching me this, too.

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Summer/ Issue 38

DESPAIR This is a personal account of how to overcome very low self-esteem and feelings of despair. J.C.

iving through eight years of the

going to drink or take drugs anymore.

horror triggered by childhood

I want to control my thoughts, feelings

sexual abuse brought about many years of despair and no confidence

and my life. From that day onwards, I have

in myself. I had a personality where I

never had a drop to drink or taken

tried to make people like or love me,

any illegal drugs. I realised that,

as I thought that this would make

throughout my life, I was always

my life complete. I also thought that

allowing others to control my

taking drugs and drinking would solve

thoughts and feelings, and this

ALL my problems and pain. However,

included my abusers. The drink and

I found out the hard way that this

drugs were also controlling me.

wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t the answer. After twenty years I learned to heal

I had many sessions with some amazing counsellors who allowed me

myself. I woke up one Sunday morn-

to find my voice and take charge of

ing, and the first thought that came

my life. I am not saying every day is

into my head was:

wonderful, because it isnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t, but the one

I am in control of my life and I can decide what I do with it. I am not

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thought that I do always have is this: I am in charge of my thoughts and life.

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Any form of abuse gives power to the abusers. They have this hidden power of controlling you 24/7. You live your life with these constant lies. You cover everything up, and in the end you don’t know what is real and what isn’t. How many of you are reading this and thinking, No, that’s not me! You won’t leave or you won’t stop drinking. You probably think none of this is relevant. I thought that for years. No, I don’t have a problem. Who was I kidding? My life was a mess and I just didn’t want to see it for what it truly was. I

When you take control of your life and thoughts, you find a new freedom. So, instead of going to get a glass of wine or beer, go into the kitchen and make a cup of tea or coffee. Instead of taking those drugs, go and make a cake or something else that you like. Your abuser will be due home

always thought it had to be my fault,

in a couple of hours, and you are

as though I was the bad person.

starting to get that feeling in your

That was so far from the truth.

stomach. You’re shaking inside, your

I am a great person and I deserve to be happy and loved.

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hands are becoming sweaty and you think that you are being stupid, but

Summer/ Issue 38

you just can’t stop that awful feeling. I

you deserve to live your life without fear

always used to keep a well-hidden bag

or pain.

packed with emergency clothes, just in case. So, the person who is abusing you

Try to look at the good within you. Write down all the good things about yourself. Go and behave like a child

has walked in and is shouting, “Why

again. If it’s raining outside, go and

were you not in when I called you?

jump in puddles of water and feel

Who were you with? I bet you were with

totally free in what you are doing.

that bloke from down the road or talking

Go to the local park and play on the

to your stupid friends on Facebook!” As

swings.

the person comes towards you, just say, “I need to go to the toilet.” The next decision is going to be hard to make straightaway. Instead of going to the bathroom, walk out the front

You are an exceptional person and there are things you are really good at. Believe in yourself and not the negative comments you have been living with. This is only the start of the journey,

door and leave. Try to find the strength

but if you believe in yourself, you will

to walk away. Find some protection:

make great progress. You will start to

friends, family or even the police.

heal your life.

You will be thinking, I shouldn’t have

The main thing to remember is this:

done that. They will be after me and it

I am a good person and I am in control

is my fault.

of my life.

It is not your fault. You are a good person. You deserve to be happy, and

www.haringey.gov.uk/equilibrium

Good luck and just believe this is the first day of your life.

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The Nature of Forgetting PRESS RELEASE

ollowing a sell-out run at the 2017 London

and inspired by interviews and workshops

International Mime Festival, Theatre Re’s

with organisations, such as the Alzheimer’s

The Nature of Forgetting is a powerful, explo-

Society. While the medium of performance

sive and joyous piece about what is left when

may be an unusual resource for the transmis-

memory and recollection are gone. It is part

sion of science, it shines a light on issues around

of British Council Edinburgh Showcase 2017.

memory that offers a new perspective.

Tom has just turned 55. As he dresses for

Director Guillaume Pigé comments: The

his birthday party, tangled threads of disap-

Nature of Forgetting is not about dementia.

pearing memories spark him into life, unrav-

It is about the fragility of life and that eternal

elling as a tale of friendship, love and guilt.

‘something’ we all share that is left when

This ambitious project with actors, mimes and

memory is gone. Our collaboration with

musicians has been created in collaboration

Professor Kate Jeffery and our interviews with

with UCL Neuroscience Professor Kate Jeffery

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people living with dementia and their carers

Summer/ Issue 38

have resulted in a life-affirming journey into

poignant work. Its shows examine fragile

a weakening mind, where broken does

human conditions in a compelling, physi-

not have to mean defeated. The development process for The

cal style, embracing mime, theatre and live music.

Nature of Forgetting lasted for 16 months, funded by Arts Council England. The piece is co-commissioned by the London

Pleasance Courtyard (Forth), 60 Pleasance, Edinburgh, EH8 9TJ

International Mime Festival, The Point and South Hill Park. Established in 2009, Theatre Re is a London-based international ensemble, creating thought-provoking, tangible and

www.haringey.gov.uk/equilibrium

Thursday 3rd â&#x20AC;&#x201C; Sunday 27th August 2017 (not 14th), 12:00 www.chloenelkinconsulting.com @TheatreRe, #Thenatureofforgetting, @ThePleasance

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Summer/ Issue 38

DEPRESSION Ricky Writes

linical depression. Dr Weekes

dose. I was on amitriptyline and was told,

calls this ‘depletion’, as that word

“It’s an old drug, but it works for you.” I

suggests the body can ‘replete’ itself

was weaned off it many years ago when

and doesn’t sound as fatalistic as the

I no longer needed it.

word ‘depression’, which has a terrible reputation. She says depletion is an illness like

Occupation in the company of others is a major crutch. You can go downhill if you’re not with other people; it helps

influenza is an illness, and nature is wait-

even if you’re in a cafe or library and not

ing to heal one as heal the other, if you

interacting with others. If you can’t get

let her. That is acceptance. Don’t make it

suitable paid work or you are unable to

worse - this is very easy to do. It can take

go to a day or evening class, some form

a while for nature to take its course.

of voluntary work may be helpful to you

As a psychiatrist said to me: It will come and go during different times of the year and then eventually go altogether.

(as well as others) or drop-ins and day centres. It comes through thrashing a flat emotional battery, i.e. going over the

Anti-depressants are a very helpful

same emotions repeatedly, adversely.

crutch, but you need to be prescribed

A psychologist told me that anxiety

the one that works for you, and the right

can get worse when depletion goes, as it

cont.

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EQUILIBRIUM 25

acts as a cushion. Depression is you: it’s not the world

make reparations if you want, but you should stop yourself feeling guilty.

that’s so terrible. Setbacks are part

That’s it in a nutshell, but he obviously

of recovery. If you’re feeling washed

elaborates in his book.

out and drained, negative thoughts

I’ve found that very small things

are bad and you feel you want to be

and incidents can cheer me up when

somewhere different, the treatment I

I’m down, such as ‘please, thank you

was advised to pursue is a change of

and sorry’ from other people when,

scene taken as a holiday. It’s difficult to

for example, holding a door open for

get up and go, but as soon as you’re

them or getting a smile from someone.

away you feel better. Lasts two or three

Incidentally, if you see someone not

weeks.

smiling, give them one of yours if you

The ‘feeling unhappy sort’

can! There is a country and western

I found the Sheldon Press book

song called ‘Happiness’ and includes

‘DEPRESSION’ by Dr Paul Hauck very helpful. He lists three main causes of depression:

the words: “Happiness is what you make it; don’t try too hard. Happiness is where

1) Self-pity: feeling sorry for yourself.

you find it; don’t look too hard. Make

(Incidentally, Dr Weekes says, “There

the most of every day, even if in your

must be no self-pity for one’s nervous

heart.”

illness, and that means no self-pity.”)

Exercise is helpful: it doesn’t cure

2) Other-pity: feeling sorry for other

but can clear the head and bring you

people.

out of yourself if you need a ‘bit of

3) Self-blame or guilt: you blame your-

oomph’.

self for things that have gone wrong. He says you should admit your guilt and

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Praying then writing down a problem and/or talking about it can be

Summer/ Issue 38

helpful. Talking in general can be

Some may advocate a stay at Aunt

helpful. Concentration can also be

Maude’s, who lives in a cottage at the

difficult with depression and the

far end of a valley, turn left and at the

personality seeming to be in pieces.

far end of another valley. The peace

It’s a nuisance but part and parcel of

and solitude may fix Mary but not quite

the condition, and the worry of it isn’t

the way you want Mary fixed! It can

so bad if you accept it as such. As Dr

be better for a depressed person to be

Weekes says: “If you can read only

in a busy cafe with all the distractions

a little then read only a little.” It can

of comings and goings to take their

improve somewhat when you’re more

mind off themselves from time to time.

together, and that comes, as said,

Having something to look forward

from doing something practical, exer-

to, or a routine you like, can be a help

cise and being with other people.

in pulling you forward.

Further comments Occupation in the company of others. It’s obviously got to be something you’re capable of doing, but

On the other hand, keeping an appointment can be an absolute nightmare! If you need a holiday, staying with

nervously ill people can do quite a lot

a friend/relation or at a youth hostel

if they’re allowed to get on at their

(you don’t need to be young!) will

own pace, without a pair of critical

save money.

eyes looking over them. Doing something distracts you and

As a good psychiatrist once said to me: “Yes, sleeplessness, symptom

takes your mind off yourself from time

of depression!” Every so often, I go to

to time, even if it’s only, as Dr Weekes

bed at a normal time but can’t get to

says, to criticise the office girl’s new

sleep until 3 or 3.30 in the morning.

hairstyle!

If you’re awake and it is not worry-

cont.

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EQUILIBRIUM 27

ing or undue anxiety causing it, then

illness can be useful practice in getting

knowing sleeplessness is a symptom and

self-management.

normal in the circumstances means you don’t worry about not being able to get to sleep. It’s a nuisance, but I just lie in bed as best I can and wait for sleep to come. Half the time you don’t realise you’re

You can feel brighter late at night and think you’ve turned the corner and then wake with the same head of lead in the morning. Don’t pray to be better when you wake: pray to accept your-

flat or unhappy or lack the oomph until

self as you find yourself when you wake.

you come back out of it!

One morning, it’ll change, and you will

Coping with depression and nervous

feel brighter.

ARMADILLOS Barbara Smith

My face is lying in the waste bin on a tissue full of lies. My outer skin is in the closet being eaten by the flies. And as I lie here like a turtle that’s been ripped out of its shell, I imagine all the women going through this living hell. The soft and pulpy creatures underneath the hard gloss covers Who have learned to be crustaceans from their armadillo mothers. And I decide that, from tomorrow, when I wake to face the morning, I will burn all my protection…and wear black for it in mourning.

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Summer/ Issue 38

PHOTOGRAPHY: JO COCKLIN

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Mandelstam by The Fence Poem by György Faludy Translated from Hungarian and edited by Thomas Ország-Land

György Faludy (1910-2006), a JewishHungarian humanist, was a towering figure of 20th century European literature and a dominant voice of the anti-Soviet and anti-Nazi resistance. His work in English translation is just beginning to take its rightful place in the bookshops, lecture halls and libraries of the West. He spent some of his most fruitful writing years in exile as well as political imprisonment, where he had to entrust many of his poems – including the piece below – to memory. His work is once again heavily ignored by the servile Hungarian literary establishment under the country’s current authoritarian rule. However, the city of Toronto has adopted Faludy as its own poet and named after him a park beneath the apartment where he had spent fourteen years of his exile. In Britain, Faludy’s memoir of resistance to the Nazis and imprisonment by the Communists, My Happy Days in Hell, is published as a Penguin Modern Classic. The poet Osip Mandelstam (1891-1938), another Jewish humanist, was murdered during Stalin’s purges in his native Russia, where his work is at last widely read.

sip, you made me jump… Here I was squatting near to the barbed wire fence that runs along

the edge of this autumn woodland nearly bereft of foliage, by the bed of a purple spring, where I shed my role as a prisoner as soon as I bent over the carpet of leaves beside my knees. What wealth, what plenitude of colours and shades! The melancholy brown of the horse-chestnut leaves

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Summer/ Issue 38

stretched out, their wrinkles straightened out, reshaped by the smothering-iron of time, disintegrating already in places but held together still by networks of threadlike blood vessels. Lying supine, the leaves of oak trees still retained their spots of green and red, reminders of bygone youth and age, and here and there their surfaces blistering like thickening porridge stirred on a cooking stove, perhaps protesting the end of their sailing days or mourning their flight with every passing breeze. And thenâ&#x20AC;Ś two tiny leaves bent and conjoined and shaped like flower petals or maybe a barge, one ochre-yellow and the other pink; they must have fallen prematurely â&#x20AC;&#x201C; but from where? That leafless bush, I guessed, five paces away, the one hardly taller than a dove. I gently picked the pink one by two fingers but did not sense a substance held between them. Such leaves do not disintegrate, I mused, they surely would evaporate tonight. â&#x20AC;ŚAnd also hard and oval little leaves, and others coloured like a bacon rind, and tar-streaked, lemon-yellow leaves, like bygone imperial flags, shed by a wild pear tree. The other leaves did not expose the surface of mass destruction; many twisted up to take the shape of tidy cigar wrappers, or cylinders or tubes or mini-mummies. I touched one; it rolled down along the slope towards the shallow basin of the spring, and many others fell in line behind it until they stopped and huddled. Then I bent down over their communal grave once more,

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inhaled the heady, sylvan scent of death and I rose. The sky was blue; the Evening Star shone through the branches. Even here, I sighed, I am surrounded by such gifts of splendour, and that was when I saw you standing there, you, Osip Mandelstam. Beside the fence you stood in your short jacket and a hat. The barbed wire fence was visible through your body. Your face was very pale and fresh and calm. I knew that you would visit me. How often I’d thought of you, at home, in bed, when I lay drenched in sweat and tried to calm myself by stroking my cool walls with my damp hands! And how many times on my straw mattress here when I am woken by the howl of bloodhounds! Our destiny is one. We’ve much in common… I do not like to bring this up, it may sound bragging. Still, we two, and we two alone, have dared to raise our voice in public poetry to challenge Stalin in his own domain. Why did you frown? I know we were not brave (I take the liberty of speaking for you as we have shared one fate), we were not brave. No, we were scared when we conceived our poems and trembled while committing them to words, and we grew really desperate when the works were finished and we found that they’d become integral parts of us, our flesh, our bones… Our images scared us from every mirror, our constant fear drained out our very life-force, and, at our desks, we sat with shaking ankles,

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imagining them dangling in the air. You raised your arm… what would you like to add? I know. That this was very far from all. That we were not just frightened, that we also distributed our poetry, risking all, perhaps as we perceived a hundred signs that – verse or no verse – we would disappear, whatever we would do or fail to do, not just for what we wrote but who we were. And we were not just scared, we were delighted that some had at long last described our Genghis, our linguist with the moustache of a cockroach, the father of the nations gulping sickly red Georgian wines upon a throne set high on corpses… this our arid walking death, whose orgasms explode not in his flesh but in his cruel, calculating skull. But why do I go on about the living when you and I have so much more to say as one corpse to another?... Or are you alive in far Siberia in a camp, composing verse after your dreadful daily load of labour? How can you bear it? Or have you surrendered? Have you been beaten, worked or frozen to death? Why don’t you answer? Then the bell was sounded – time for inspection, and I had to run at once to try to make up for my absence. Occasionally, I looked back. I thought he might be gone. But no. He stood before the fence in his short jacket and his hat, barbed wire visible across his torso. (Recsk slave labour camp, Hungary, 1951)

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