A few friends of mine have got in touch with me since my
last blog post. They want to know what it is I’m doing to make these final 400
days of my forties happier, healthier ones.
I’m 23 days into abstaining from alcohol. This is the
hardest time of the year to contemplate knocking booze on the head and the
sobering blow of the General Election threatened to topple me early on but I’m
glad I’ve done it. Do I feel happier? Ironically I feel sad that that part of
my life is over for now. I was a heroic drinker at my peak but there were many
troughs and no longer having to deal with the aftermath of those is better than
any intoxication.
Things I’ve done in the first week.
I’ve tidied and Christmas decorated my flat. A tree, lights
and cards everywhere. I cleaned my oven. I packed a box full of clothes to
donate to the homeless. I’ve done my Christmas shopping.
I had to do this online as I had two panic attacks on the
occasions I tried to go into town. One
of them was a proper full blown grip the walls bastard – the type I thought I’d
left behind a while back.
Inadvertently I confessed the full extent of my anxiety
problems to my mum. Something I didn’t think I could ever do. We spoke about the mental health issues my family have faced down the years. I felt like I knew and understood my parents better afterwards.
I spoke to my son for three hours. I don't see him very often. He lives hundreds of miles away and we do not see eye to eye
on some things but we connected and we spoke about his own children and meeting
up soon. I talked about the reasons I find it hard to see him sometimes and we seemed to be in a better place at the end of it.
I spoke to my three best friends, each of whom are seriously
ill. You may draw your own conclusion as to whether or not I am the cause of
these illnesses. Each of them, and many other people I’ve spoken to are
struggling right now with facing the reality of what is to come. I don’t think
I’m exaggerating when I say that this is the closest this country has come to
electing an openly fascist government. And by a landslide too. People who are
dependent on the NHS and other public services are genuinely scared. Those of
us who want a country that acts up to the values and standards it proclaims it
already has are fearful of fresh depths being plumbed. How do I, how can any of
us begin to try to claw our way back to happiness in times like these?
I guess that in the end all we have is each other. That’s
our strength to draw on, our winter fuel. The nights already are shortening,
eventually Spring will return us to the long days and the bird-filled skies.
For now, there’s no treasure but hope. Hold on to that. Hold on to one another.
As long as we have that strength, the ability to support each other, then we
can be sure that, just like the leaves on the trees, the good times will one
day return and love will win.
Merry Christmas.
Paul.
No comments:
Post a Comment