My question today is "when is ending a friendship the right thing to do?".
I am blessed in that I have always had friends I can talk about anything with. A select sub-set of these I can say anything to, confident that they always know it comes from love and companionship. I know I can laugh, cry, sympathise with and argue against with these friends, confident that any misunderstandings will be quickly addressed and put aside. These friends I love with all my heart.
Then there are the fair weather friends. Those that can always be counted on to be around in good times, but have a habit of disappearing during the bad ones. Or those you always have to be a little wary of saying what's really on your mind with. Maybe those that never deliver on their promises. I find these friends acceptable strangely enough. It's an honest situation; I know where I stand with them.
It's what to do about those friends who change over time into something you no longer recognise that I struggle with. Adversity can bring the worst out in all of us. I'm as guilty as the next of snapping at a loved one when I'm in pain and unable to vocalise my misery. Thanks to a special few, I'd like to think that I've improved in this respect over the years, but I know I still do it from time to time.
I'm not talking about the emotional vampires either. They show their true colours soon enough and I have a ruthless streak in me that terminates such relationships pretty quickly, albeit by simply vanishing into the woodwork. No, it's those that seem to metamorphose into a different person. Sometimes this seems to be the result of them becoming involved in a damaging relationship or developing an addiction. Other times, you wonder if the side you are now seeing was always there and you were simply blind to it.
It's natural I think, to try to help at first, to be patient and understanding even when they cut you to the core. At what point do you say enough is enough however? I guess if I were a better, kinder person, I'd keep trying but when trying becomes self-damaging, what then? When the lying becomes entrenched and the hypocrisy level becomes unsupportable?
I want to tell it like it is but I know my words would go unheard.
So, my now former friend, this is goodbye. Two years is long enough. My only regret is that I couldn't be a better friend and stay until you loved yourself again.
Saturday, 30 October 2010
Tuesday, 2 February 2010
Terry Pratchett - Shaking Hands with Death
I watched my mother's mother take 15 years to die of Alzheimer's disease.
In that time, Nan went from being simply absent minded to a walking corpse, devoid of everything that had defined her as a woman. In some ways, this end phase was a relief... she wasn't there any more. In others, it was like watching a continuous loop of film showing a horrific car crash, especially when you observed the effect on her primary carer, her husband, my step-grandfather. A man who largely saw it as his exclusive duty to do everything for his wife, taking full physical, emotional and fiscal burdens in the process.
For me, the greatest pain was the mid-phase of her last illness. In the blink of an eye, she would go from being an unknowing mute to fully aware of the incomprehensibility and horror of her situation and back again. In that moment, I would see Edvard Munch's The Scream; her agony and terror being writ that large in her eyes.
The 2010 Richard Dimbleby Lecture given by Terry Pratchett as read by Tony Robinson was broadcast by the BBC this evening. His lecture explored how modern society needs to redefine how it deals with death. The dignity and passion I witnessed had me in tears of admiration.
Anyone who has been in my Grandfather's position will have had nightmares concerning their own possible demise and wanted the ability to instruct family, friends and medical professionals to do their utmost to prevent such an end.
Sir Terence defined my views on the right to chose a better death in a way I've struggled to perfect for years. This lecture may just be his definitive work.
My mother may have trumped him for brevity: "If I am ever in the same situation, for God's sake, shove a pillow over my face".
In that time, Nan went from being simply absent minded to a walking corpse, devoid of everything that had defined her as a woman. In some ways, this end phase was a relief... she wasn't there any more. In others, it was like watching a continuous loop of film showing a horrific car crash, especially when you observed the effect on her primary carer, her husband, my step-grandfather. A man who largely saw it as his exclusive duty to do everything for his wife, taking full physical, emotional and fiscal burdens in the process.
For me, the greatest pain was the mid-phase of her last illness. In the blink of an eye, she would go from being an unknowing mute to fully aware of the incomprehensibility and horror of her situation and back again. In that moment, I would see Edvard Munch's The Scream; her agony and terror being writ that large in her eyes.
The 2010 Richard Dimbleby Lecture given by Terry Pratchett as read by Tony Robinson was broadcast by the BBC this evening. His lecture explored how modern society needs to redefine how it deals with death. The dignity and passion I witnessed had me in tears of admiration.
Anyone who has been in my Grandfather's position will have had nightmares concerning their own possible demise and wanted the ability to instruct family, friends and medical professionals to do their utmost to prevent such an end.
Sir Terence defined my views on the right to chose a better death in a way I've struggled to perfect for years. This lecture may just be his definitive work.
My mother may have trumped him for brevity: "If I am ever in the same situation, for God's sake, shove a pillow over my face".
Tuesday, 17 November 2009
Pain in the Arse
Still out of work, I recently found out that the agonising pain I've been suffering in my butt hasn't been down to the Job Centre at all but has its origins more in a damaged vertebra in my lower back.
Ok, "damaged" is a bit of an understatement. The kind of understatement that leads to highly skilled, very attractive, very naughty spinal consultants to stick very large needles in your spine in the name of pain relief and to look positively cheerful doing it. Mainly because they know you need fusion surgery that takes at least four hours and allows them to use that fancy fibre-optic, key-hole surgery kit I suspect.
I was worried but now am freaking.
Why, oh why is it so difficult to find the real information about what to expect post-operatively on otherwise excellent medical web-sites? I can't begin to tell you how many "My spinal surgery left me crippled for life" stories I've failed to avoid whilst looking for something realistic. Something that would let me know if I'm going to be able to cope at home given there's no one to care for me. Something to let me know if there's anything to assist me? Something that's actually HELPFUL, for F***K's sake?!
Of course, I should have known that the NHS site would be as useless as ever. What is it about British sources of information that seem to take the line that the patient should be told nothing more than the sort of basic facts that you could get from a good dictionary's definition of your condition? God forbid you should want to know something about the surgery itself.
American sites are so much better at this. It seems every clinic has material on what to expect post-operatively, though it's depth and currency are somewhat variable.
Come on NHS, treat us like adults. We can take it you know!
By the way, Patrick, I was only kidding. I know you have my best interests at heart........ will you put that bone-saw down now, please... Please?!
Cats!
This evening, I'm sat on the edge of my sofa, Facebooking, etc with my cats beside me. At least, they were. After a while, Nutmeg starting rooting around behind and under me.
Of course, this got kind of annoying so I asked her what she was up to. Much purring and rooting later, I asked Max "What on earth is she doing? It feels like I have rats in my knickers".
I stood up and, there it was, jammed between the sofa cushions, a rabbit-skin mousie!
And people wonder why my nerves are shot?!
Of course, this got kind of annoying so I asked her what she was up to. Much purring and rooting later, I asked Max "What on earth is she doing? It feels like I have rats in my knickers".
I stood up and, there it was, jammed between the sofa cushions, a rabbit-skin mousie!
And people wonder why my nerves are shot?!
 |
| From Anna's Visit July 2010 |
Wednesday, 8 July 2009
Retreat or Transformation, The Reprise
Four months have passed since I lost my job. I have nearly finished my two career counselling courses. I have a better understanding as to what attributes my next career should have and which of my skills I want to be using. What this job should be is as elusive as ever, however. This is probably why I have found myself musing on my life rather a lot lately.
In the past, I spent endless hours and a lot of nervous energy trying to ensure that those around me got what they needed and when. The level of appreciation varied considerably. There were times when the most unlikely people carried me like their own child, complete with scuffed knee. Then there were times I could have cheerfully strangled those who were supposedly meant to be there for me.
Since my father's death nearly four years ago, I have tried to put myself first. Initially for health reasons.
I expected censorious indignation from certain individuals and, indeed, got a lot of that from one person in particular. However, the revelation is that I have had more support, care, and help than ever before in my life. One person even made a point of saying to me that I am a better person for becoming, in my eyes, selfish. If only I'd known sooner!
The even odder thing is that this support seems to turn up just when I need it. Take today for example, I went base over apex in my kitchen and landed heavily. So heavily, I couldn't even swear! Within minutes of sitting in a chair with an ice pack on my knee, a friend called and was quite insistent about knowing if I were ok. And this before knowing about the fall.
I have an earlier story (related here) that tells of my first experience of travelling to Egypt. As is any story-teller's wont, certain things were omitted from my narrative. In this case, it was a biggy. I found faith in the gritty sand of the Western Desert.
Yes, those of you with faith are now nodding knowledgeably and smiling softly to yourselves... "of course God answers her calls for help" or, perhaps, asserting Karma!
I'm not so sure of this myself as my new found faith is a fragile thing, finding survival much harder in my cooler homeland and I certainly can't say that I am practising a religion.
The Sinai blew me away. Sometimes quite literally! The scale and colours of the dunes were noteworthy enough, but there was something more. Something perceived as a sotto-voce whisper under the sounds of shifting grains and turbulent wind eddies. I could hear the voice of God in the susserating sands.
I can't explain. I could speculate on it being due to my change in attitude, from the daily practise of yoga in desert, or from the impact of the people I met, but choose not to. I just accept that whatever the reason, my life seems to have been permanently altered for the better by the experience.
I no longer wonder about the fervour with which people have fought over this area or over how three major religions arose in such a small area. The fact is, this region gets into your blood like the spice in Frank Herbert's Dune.
Oh, and for those of you without faith, don't panic, I always was this crazy. I just used to give a damn about hiding it!
In the past, I spent endless hours and a lot of nervous energy trying to ensure that those around me got what they needed and when. The level of appreciation varied considerably. There were times when the most unlikely people carried me like their own child, complete with scuffed knee. Then there were times I could have cheerfully strangled those who were supposedly meant to be there for me.
Since my father's death nearly four years ago, I have tried to put myself first. Initially for health reasons.
I expected censorious indignation from certain individuals and, indeed, got a lot of that from one person in particular. However, the revelation is that I have had more support, care, and help than ever before in my life. One person even made a point of saying to me that I am a better person for becoming, in my eyes, selfish. If only I'd known sooner!
The even odder thing is that this support seems to turn up just when I need it. Take today for example, I went base over apex in my kitchen and landed heavily. So heavily, I couldn't even swear! Within minutes of sitting in a chair with an ice pack on my knee, a friend called and was quite insistent about knowing if I were ok. And this before knowing about the fall.
I have an earlier story (related here) that tells of my first experience of travelling to Egypt. As is any story-teller's wont, certain things were omitted from my narrative. In this case, it was a biggy. I found faith in the gritty sand of the Western Desert.
Yes, those of you with faith are now nodding knowledgeably and smiling softly to yourselves... "of course God answers her calls for help" or, perhaps, asserting Karma!
I'm not so sure of this myself as my new found faith is a fragile thing, finding survival much harder in my cooler homeland and I certainly can't say that I am practising a religion.
The Sinai blew me away. Sometimes quite literally! The scale and colours of the dunes were noteworthy enough, but there was something more. Something perceived as a sotto-voce whisper under the sounds of shifting grains and turbulent wind eddies. I could hear the voice of God in the susserating sands.
I can't explain. I could speculate on it being due to my change in attitude, from the daily practise of yoga in desert, or from the impact of the people I met, but choose not to. I just accept that whatever the reason, my life seems to have been permanently altered for the better by the experience.
I no longer wonder about the fervour with which people have fought over this area or over how three major religions arose in such a small area. The fact is, this region gets into your blood like the spice in Frank Herbert's Dune.
Oh, and for those of you without faith, don't panic, I always was this crazy. I just used to give a damn about hiding it!
Sunday, 3 May 2009
Career Counselling
I am working through a career counselling programme with Opus 2. Amongst the exercises I had to do was one on where and how I saw my life in 20 years time, sampling at 5 year intervals. I was so drearily practical about the whole thing, I was tasked to get my friends' views. The rest of this post is the result.
Ask some of your friends to describe for you - in detail if they can - how your life will be in 2029
“Fiona (Wilson) will be living on an American cruise ship; it’s cheaper than sheltered housing / OAP home! She will be in passenger class as that way she’ll meet nice people. She will be exposed to a new set of people to get to know every two weeks and be treated like royalty by the staff.
Should she get injured or fall ill, there is on-board medical assistance and free trips for life in compensation.
She will be buried at see if she dies.”
Fiona Pickering, School Laboratory Technician and Ace Mum.
“Oh this is really difficult; I would struggle to do this myself. Fiona will be in a foreign country.”
Julie Cherkas, Retired Mortgage Consultant and Cat Breeder.
“Fiona will be running her own language school in a Middle Eastern country. She will be teaching English to the locals and her partner will be teaching Arabic to tourists and other visitors. Fiona will be dressed like a local”.
Mary Niker, Yoga Teacher, Thai Yoga Masseuse, and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will be really secure and living a life with no financial worries. She will have fulfilled her dreams and taking things a day at a time.
It is difficult to say where she will be living. She likes to travel but that does not mean to say that she would emigrate.”
Angelina Elliott, Oracle Database Administrator and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will possibly still be living in Reading but travelling regularly, especially in winter. She will be winding down her involvement in her own company, probably with a view to selling it to the employees. This company would be a small, dynamic consultancy (say, 12 people). It would probably be involved in Information Management and have a close, family feel.
Fiona will still be practising yoga and going on retreats two to three times a year, often travelling with friends. She will travel to see friends, including going abroad to do so, and more often than in her forties.
She will have completed the major alterations to her home but still tinker here and there.
There is a 50:50 chance that Fiona will be married or dating but she will not be fixated on finding a partner.
She will be leading a full and active life”.
Cevie Dubreski, Engineer.
“Fiona will still be in Reading, settled and happy. It would take something big to make her move.
She will have a good job and have changed her career. It will be something that she enjoys and that makes her happy. She is a strong speaker, so perhaps as a counsellor and/or working for herself.
Fiona may be with someone and her social life will have improved as a consequence of being happier in her working life. Overall, she will have regained her confidence and made new friends.”
Karen Mocko, Estate and Letting Agent and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will still be living in Reading, possibly in another house. She will share her home with a couple of cats. Fiona will be active in her community (local issues) and will be well known in her neighbourhood.
Fiona’s home will be of a style commonly seen in the Cotswolds. It will have a larger front garden than her current home.
Fiona will be financially stable and still working, probably part time. She will have shifted away from working in IT, maybe not totally. Her job will involve pursuing an objective (campaigning?) in a very serious manner. It may be a charitable concern involving animal welfare or third world development for example.
She will still be doing yoga and social activities associated with it.
I would not be surprised to find that Fiona had a partner, probably also part time (i.e. it would be a committed relationship but they would be living apart).”
Jim Wood, former neighbour, suspected MI5 operative and all round Good Chap.
“You'll be happy, and still caring about other people too much for your own good (apologies, I seem to have forgotten numerous alcohol references in the above).”
Ben Lambert, e-friend, cat lover, and IT Nerd.
Ask some of your friends to describe for you - in detail if they can - how your life will be in 2029
“Fiona (Wilson) will be living on an American cruise ship; it’s cheaper than sheltered housing / OAP home! She will be in passenger class as that way she’ll meet nice people. She will be exposed to a new set of people to get to know every two weeks and be treated like royalty by the staff.
Should she get injured or fall ill, there is on-board medical assistance and free trips for life in compensation.
She will be buried at see if she dies.”
Fiona Pickering, School Laboratory Technician and Ace Mum.
“Oh this is really difficult; I would struggle to do this myself. Fiona will be in a foreign country.”
Julie Cherkas, Retired Mortgage Consultant and Cat Breeder.
“Fiona will be running her own language school in a Middle Eastern country. She will be teaching English to the locals and her partner will be teaching Arabic to tourists and other visitors. Fiona will be dressed like a local”.
Mary Niker, Yoga Teacher, Thai Yoga Masseuse, and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will be really secure and living a life with no financial worries. She will have fulfilled her dreams and taking things a day at a time.
It is difficult to say where she will be living. She likes to travel but that does not mean to say that she would emigrate.”
Angelina Elliott, Oracle Database Administrator and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will possibly still be living in Reading but travelling regularly, especially in winter. She will be winding down her involvement in her own company, probably with a view to selling it to the employees. This company would be a small, dynamic consultancy (say, 12 people). It would probably be involved in Information Management and have a close, family feel.
Fiona will still be practising yoga and going on retreats two to three times a year, often travelling with friends. She will travel to see friends, including going abroad to do so, and more often than in her forties.
She will have completed the major alterations to her home but still tinker here and there.
There is a 50:50 chance that Fiona will be married or dating but she will not be fixated on finding a partner.
She will be leading a full and active life”.
Cevie Dubreski, Engineer.
“Fiona will still be in Reading, settled and happy. It would take something big to make her move.
She will have a good job and have changed her career. It will be something that she enjoys and that makes her happy. She is a strong speaker, so perhaps as a counsellor and/or working for herself.
Fiona may be with someone and her social life will have improved as a consequence of being happier in her working life. Overall, she will have regained her confidence and made new friends.”
Karen Mocko, Estate and Letting Agent and Ace Mum.
“Fiona will still be living in Reading, possibly in another house. She will share her home with a couple of cats. Fiona will be active in her community (local issues) and will be well known in her neighbourhood.
Fiona’s home will be of a style commonly seen in the Cotswolds. It will have a larger front garden than her current home.
Fiona will be financially stable and still working, probably part time. She will have shifted away from working in IT, maybe not totally. Her job will involve pursuing an objective (campaigning?) in a very serious manner. It may be a charitable concern involving animal welfare or third world development for example.
She will still be doing yoga and social activities associated with it.
I would not be surprised to find that Fiona had a partner, probably also part time (i.e. it would be a committed relationship but they would be living apart).”
Jim Wood, former neighbour, suspected MI5 operative and all round Good Chap.
“You'll be happy, and still caring about other people too much for your own good (apologies, I seem to have forgotten numerous alcohol references in the above).”
Ben Lambert, e-friend, cat lover, and IT Nerd.
Friday, 20 February 2009
My Name is Indecision.
I am about to find myself without a job for the first time in 28 years. A statistic that succeeds in making me feel old all of its own.
The question I face is, "What do I want to do next?". If I loved the work I do now, life would be simple. I would put all my energies into finding a new job in the same field. Of course, with me, nothing is ever that simple. I don't dislike my job. I don't find it too hard or too much effort. No, it's more insidious than that; I am indifferent to it.
It has been years since anything in my life fired me with passion and made me want to go all out to achieve it. I accepted the status quo and assumed this was an age thing. Of course, I ignored all examples disproving this self-delusion.
I have decided that I should seek a change in direction for my own good.
"Which direction?" you say?... I haven't a clue!
Friends are being tremendously supportive. I have a reading list a foot high. I have career counselling booked. I'm not frozen into inaction, but there is a sense that I am still just checking off items on someone else's list of "How to Go About Finding a New Job". I know I need to give myself a damn good talking to. I know I should see this forced review of my life in a positive light. But why can't I? That is the real question.
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