Being my friend

So I’m guessing y’all know by now that I suffer from time to time from a big ol’ dollop of that there depression? (I don’t know why the mid-Western twang, I’ll stop it – it’s a little unbecoming one feels).  Anyhoo, I’ve been giving some thought to how that impacts upon you – I know, how unselfish am I?

As such, and in the interests of continuing ease of friendship, here are some things you should know and hopefully some things you can do to help me when the going gets tough. (Yes ok, do your best Billy Ocean impression now…that’s right, let it out…)

I need a plan.  Not a life plan (although, yes possibly one of those too).  What I mean is, I’m not good with tentative.  If we arrange to possibly meet up, I need to know if it’s on or not and the where’s and when’s pretty much from the get go.  If I don’t know,   I get very stressed and can’t settle to anything else until I do.  If for whatever reason I don’t hear from you (and that can happen for a number of reasons, rational-me does get that!) I become horribly paranoid and worried.  To the point that I think you’ve a) met with a terrible fate and are dead in a ditch or b) decided I’m a god-awful person you can’t bear to spend time with.   So please, wherever possible, furnish me with a plan!

I may not always answer my phone.  There are times when basic conversation, or even texting, is just too hard.  It really is a case of “it’s not you, it’s me” so don’t think I’m deliberately ignoring you.  Well I am, but not because I can’t be bothered with you, it’s because I can’t think of anything to say or because what I could say is too painful to begin to know how to express.

I may cancel our plans.  Most of the time this will be for an actual reason like I forgot, I double-booked, something urgent came up – you know, the kind of reasons the rest of you give for cancelling plans.  Occasionally it may be because I’ve hit a wall of depression and can’t move from my bed let alone leave the house,  that being the case I’ll probably say I’m not feeling well – which is, funnily enough, the truth!  It’s just that for me, not feeling well doesn’t mean a headache or a cold, it means I’m depressed.  The thing I'd ask you to do here is just give me time, I'll come back when I can.

One thing I won’t do is lie to you.  I may not want to burden you with the full truth of how I am feeling but I won’t lie.  I was accused recently by a friend of 18 years of continually lying and making excuses to get out of seeing her.  One of my ‘lies’ was something along the lines of “I had a bit of a breakdown this week and ended up having to go to a mental hospital so I’m not going to be able to meet up on Friday.”   I don’t know what hurt and angered me more, the fact that she was so unfeeling about what had happened to me, or the fact that she thought I would make up such a monstrous untruth!  Needless to say, that friendship is well and truly over.  

I am blessed by having many good friends.  And sometimes this blessing is a curse.  I want to be there for you, to help you through your bad times, I pride myself on being there for those I love.  But the depressed me has a tendency to think that I won’t be of any value to you if I can’t be the strong one, the advice-giver, the cheerer-upper, that I’m not really worthy of your friendship so I hide away from you until I feel able to be the friend you might need.  I know it’s awful, that there’s a part of me that apparently thinks you are that shallow that you’d only see our friendship on the basis of what you can get out of it; I’m working on it.  When I’m well I do know that it’s really not like that, it’s just that sometimes, and it’s certainly been the case over the past year or two,  I’m not that well at all. 

My friend

My friend is moving to Australia.  You know Australia?  On the other side of the world?  

My friend gets me.  We’ve known each other less than a year and yet I feel like we get each other on an emotional level; we click.  I can tell her things I’d hesitate to tell other people, even friends of much longer standing because I know she won’t judge. 

 My friend is hilarious.  She has a properly infectious giggle and just a glance will set me off.  She is as inappropriate and bawdy as I am which I admit is probably quite annoying for other people (especially in the midst of a choir rehearsal when we’re stifling our cackles).

My friend is very loyal.  She is the sort of person other people open up to and she takes on the burden of being secret keeper. 

My friend has great kids.  I’ve never enjoyed the company of children more, they truly are a credit to her and I am going to miss them more than I can say.

My friend has been more of a support to me over the last eight months than she knows.  When we met I was approaching my lowest ebb, she helped to pick me up. 

I set up Skype last night so I can (time difference allowing) talk to her often and we have Twitter as well.  I am going to miss the real her though.  I am going to miss my friend. 

The Twitter Days of Christmas

My Christmas Follow Fridays.  

This lot have been amazing to me this year and I couldn't have got through it without them.  Much love to everyone who has supported me through this year.  Merry Christmas!

*sings lustily*

On the first day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @PrincessofVP

On the second day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @AndyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the third day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @AntiJanner, @AndyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the fourth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the fifth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the sixth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the seventh day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @ijclark, @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the eighth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @nosweetnothings @ijclark, @SharonGOONer@EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the ninth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @Miss_alaynius, @nosweetnothings  @ijclark, @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the tenth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @AliB68, @Miss_alaynius, @nosweetnothings  @ijclark, @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the eleventh day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @PantherPants, @AliB68, @Miss_alaynius, @nosweetnothings  @ijclark, @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

On the twelfth day of Christmas my Twitter gave to me @PJMardy, @PantherPants, @AliB68, @Miss_alaynius, @nosweetnothings  @ijclark, @SharonGOONer @EllaSimone @Aitchess @AntiJanner, @andyJamesHicks and @PrincessofVP

Last night a bookshop and a choir saved my life

Actually, they’ve been saving my life for the majority of this year, but last night saw my favourite choir singing carols in my favourite bookshop and having them both together gave me tingles and a warm love-filled glow.

I won’t dwell on it too much, but what with Stalker from Hell (AKA The Person) a work investigation into my mental health, the worst and most elongated episode of depression I’ve ever had and the heart-breaking, mind-fucking  consequences of it all, 2011 has been one heck of a bastard year.

Tottenham Community Choir has been a mainstay in my life for over two years but this year I have needed it more than ever.  Knowing that no matter how dreadful I am feeling, there are 70-plus friends who don’t judge or poke their noses in, who just care and want to enjoy singing with you has been a huge motivator in helping me come to terms with being afflicted with depression and has also been a massive reason to get out of bed.  I can’t even begin to express how much I owe the choir, even though the circumstances that led to The Person blighting my life are so intimately connected with them.  I feel I truly belong.

As for The Big Green Bookshop, I don’t think Tim and Simon have any idea just what they’ve done for me.  My weekly trip to have a natter, a cuppa and a mooch around the bookshelves were not just the random visits of a supposedly poorly girl who couldn’t be arsed going to work (as The Person suggested to my work), they were goals.  I set myself tasks to try and re-integrate myself with the real world. “Come on Bearface, put some clean clothes on and see if you can get as far as the bookshop” has been my mantra for months now.  I’ve also made some fantastic friends through the shop.  It’s such a community hub that you just can’t fail to meet people you connect with and I’ve been lucky enough to become part of that community, which is full of understanding, funny and supportive people.

People need people.  It’s easy to feel alone, isolated and unworthy of other people’s attention when you’re depressed.  Knowing that you are surrounded by those who just accept you as you are, listen when you need them to and make you laugh when nothing else can is a wonderful thing and I feel privileged to count choir and bookshop folk as my friends. I hope I can be there for them if they need me.

I don’t make new year’s resolutions as the pessimist in me thinks it’s just setting yourself up to fail, but I will make this one as it will be a piece of cake to keep; in 2012 I will sing songs with Tottenham Community Choir, read books from The Big Green Bookshop and nurture and cherish the friendships I have made in both.

Twitter blah blah blah.

I realise I am a complete cliche for starting a blog within a year of joining Twitter but who gives a fuck, you don't have to read it. I've had a shitty couple of months and Twitter has been at the heart of it all. Both my nemesis and my saviour, if you will.

I used to have a different ID and was merrily going along gathering followers, swearing profusely and generally getting to grips with having to use astrisks to get my point across where mere words would not suffice. Then someone wrote to my employer to alert them to my Twitter use during working hours. Well you might say, fair enough, I shouldn't be tweeting in a personal capacity during working hours. You'd be right. I hold my hands up to it - nevermind that I don't know a single person who doesn't tweet, facebook, email, text when they should be entering a formula into a spreadsheet, writing a strategy document, developing a marketing campaign or whatever it is they do to earn a living. Anyway I got a slap on the wrists, a kick up the arse and I've learnt my lesson.

What frightened me was this. The Person who contacted my work sent copies of the letter and pages of my tweets to every member of the senior management board. They did this anonymously and left no contact address. They had clearly spent many, many hours, if not days monitoring my output on Twitter specifically pulling out the tweets they thought would do me the most damage. They had even gone so far as to highlight some with a Sharpie. You won't be surprised to hear that I know who is behind it and why they did it. Suffice to say, I don't believe I deserved it. My only crimes were to not be who The Person wanted me to be and to stand up for my principles. Hell hath no fury like a....no I can't say it.

I deleted my old Twitter account as soon as the shit hit the fan and then a couple of weeks later, rejoined as @bear_faced_lady. Word had got about that I'd returned under a new guise and it was quite something to be welcomed back and *hugged* and *kissed* and generally made to feel like a long lost friend returning from the trenches. At first I locked my account, frightened that The Person would start 'twitter-stalking' me again, but then I thought fuck it. If they're that sad that they have nothing better to do than sit in front of a screen feverishly monitoring the endless drivel I spout then frankly, they're welcome to.

I really like being on Twitter and I get something from it that I don't get elsewhere. I get to be coarse and crude or I can shout or cry and generally be the emotional blunderbus I don't get to be in real life (sorry, IRL). It was horrible to think that some one would take advantage of that bond of trust implicit in any kind of social network - virtual or physical. Maybe I have been too trusting and a bit naive in opening myself up as I have on the social web. Maybe, knowing the sort of person The Person is, I should have seen this coming and been a bit more canny. Probably, yes. But the thing is, I have friends on Twitter as well as followers, some started off as followers and became friends, some I've met and some I never will, but friends nonetheless. Friends the likes of which The Person never was and never could be, to me or anyone else.

So I think that really, at the end of the day even though it's a fight I never sought, in the battle between The Person and The Bear Faced Lady, I WIN.