Day 802

Water Water Everywhere
(A short story)

She lives in sheltered accommodation. As an octogenarian, it is safer. Her sons think so. When she moved in, she had hoped for some company. She likes a bit of chit-chat. She enjoys people. But she is fairly content. Every other day she neatly pins her hair up, wears one of her long skirts with a woolly jumper, wraps herself up in her sea-green duffle coat, puts on a smile and walks to the high street.

Betsy goes to the post-office to buy and post a card for her grand daughter’s birthday. She picks one with flowers and butterflies and queues. The only other person in the queue is a young woman. She has big black cordless head-phones with a ‘b’ in red covering her ears. She also has a vacant look in her eyes. It seems she is elsewhere. No chance of a chat here. When Betsy arrives at the window, the teller appears to be preoccupied. He is worried that the Post office might have to close down soon. He’s not sure how soon. That worries her. Last year her bank had shut down the branch on this high street.

She used to be able to go to the GP Surgery on days she felt a bit off. In the waiting area she often ran into someone she knew. It was good. But now the rules have changed. There are screens with smiley pictures and buttons. Appointments have to be made weeks in advance. One can’t just show up. Now, she feels like an outsider at her own surgery. She doesn’t like to go there anymore.

The grocery store is always a good place for a chat. The staff are friendly. Sometimes she even runs into familiar faces. She strolls around at her own pace and picks up a pint of milk and a pack of 80 PG tips teabags. As she approaches her favourite part, the check out desk, she is ushered in a perfunctory manner towards three ugly self check-out machines. That confuses her. She is not sure what to do.

It’s been one week since she spoke to anyone. On TV they said that the population of the world is the highest ever and rising – 7.4 billion! That must have lots of zeros.

Where is everyone?

Day 801

There are many doctors who still believe that if a person is serious about killing themselves then there is nothing they can do. That is a myth

Feeling actively suicidal is temporary, even if someone has been feeling low, anxious or struggling to cope. The majority of people who feel suicidal do not actually want to die, they just want to stop the pain. This is why getting the right kind of support at the right time is so important.

The purely medical model of symptoms = diagnosis = medication does not work for mental illness as there are many social factors that can serve as important contributors and resources. Paying attention to the concerns of carers and empowering them with relevant information and points of professional contact is crucial.

“A large percentage of individuals who end their life by suicide have had contact with primary care around the time of their death.” Luoma et al 2002.
(https://www.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/pubmed/12042175)

Suicide is the single biggest killer of young people in the UK. Unless Human factors training and Suicide Prevention Training is made mandatory for all frontline medical staff, just like CPR training is, we will continue to silently loose thousands of beautiful people through suicide year after year.

I dedicate this plea to the memory of my darling son Saagar Naresh who would have been 23 this year. RIP my love.

Ref: http://www.samaritans.org/how-we-can-help-you/myths-about-suicide

Day 800

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Only when all the leaves are gone
And it’s stripped to its bare bone,
Does the tree come into its own,
Stark, basic, simple, plain, alone.

On show, each and every flaw,
Defoliated, unclad, in the raw,
Broken, knotted, gnarled they saw,
Yet the Elements, they gnaw and gnaw.

The years, they take their toll,
The bark hides rings of stories untold,
The earth, the roots, the light, they hold
The planet, in a loving fold.

Only when all the leaves were gone,
And it stood with nothing on,
Did the scars like sunbeams shone,
And twists, crags and bristles adorned
The silhouette of the proud Anon.

Only when all the leaves were gone.

Day 799

Happenstance
(An exercise in creative writing)

Carousel number 6 rolled and tumbled squares and rectangles flown in from Dubai to London Heathrow. People crowded around it, like moths to light, waiting impatiently. The black boxes looked suspiciously similar yet, 2 good-looking men in their late thirties, both in well-worn denim jeans and greenish t-shirts, both roughly size 40 picked up 1 each, assuming ownership and walked to the exit. One of them Steve, the other Matt.

As Steve left in a black cab, the thought of his ex-wife from a decade ago, Tara, struck him out of the blue. She most certainly lives in London now. He wondered if she had finally found ‘satisfaction’, smirking to himself. This business trip had been thrust upon him. He tried hard to see the upside with no luck. He had half a day to himself with no plans. He managed to check into his allotted section of the travel factory and sat looking blankly at the heavy maroon silk curtains, really bored.

Well, best unpack and venture out for a walk, he thought. Surprisingly, the number-lock on his suitcase was undone. However unlikely, he must have forgotten to lock it before departure, said his rational mind. He opened the black Tumi and was hit by an explosion of floral perfume. Looking through the fragrance, the contents of the box appeared textural and colourful, most unlike his own belongings. A red feather boa lay strewn across the top. He was shocked and intrigued, completely sucked into the suitcase. He picked it up like a thief, peering shadily around the empty room to check if anyone was looking. It was softer and lighter than anything he had ever touched before. He had to know what it felt like on his cheeks, so it automatically came up to his face. It was so soothing that his eyes closed all by themselves. After a while he respectfully placed it on the bed. On second thoughts, he bravely wrapped it around his neck. He then pried back into the box.

A pair of purple silk net stockings came next, another delicate, tactile article. It seemed ridiculous that he had a strong desire to try them on. For once, he allowed himself to go with it and changed into the sexy, luscious, figure-hugging, perfect leg wear. His hands didn’t want to let go of it but his legs loved it even more. Then came the little black dress, the dramatic fake eye-lashes, the flashy silver bracelets, the red pencil heels, the gorgeous make up, the Jitterbug perfume and the flamboyant blonde wig. And, they all fitted him superbly!

Suddenly a jarring sound shocked him out of his rhapsody. It was the blasted phone. The airline-man said there had been a mistake with baggage handling. Steve didn’t know how to speak with lipstick on but before he knew it a feeble ‘yes’ escaped his lips. It was arranged for him to take the suitcase back to the Information Desk as the owner of this suitcase was in a hurry to have it back. Steve felt somewhat curious and embarrassed.

A handsome couple stood at the desk, slightly pensive. Steve feigned complete innocence as he blokishly shook hands with Matt who leaned forward slightly to pick up the fragrance of Jitterbug perfume on Steve. He gave him a slightly crooked knowing smile that Steve dodged and furtively looked away. His eyes fell upon an older, more elegant Tara, Matt’s partner.

Steve’s ego was shot to pieces but he was grateful for this introduction to his own little piece of heaven.

Day 798

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Everyday presents opportunities for change but the very last day of the year makes me think harder about them. What do I want to change? Stop? Start? Improve? Loose?

All these come from a place of non-acceptance. I would like to be in a state of acceptance, starting with myself. I am fine. I give myself permission to be as quirky, kind, silly, funny, generous, happy, spontaneous, sorrowful as I like, as long as I am authentic. Completely and unapologetically true to myself, irrespective of what anyone else thinks. There is only one of me. I embrace all aspects of myself, knowing that I am the best version of myself at this moment in time.

It’s fear that stops us being ourselves, mostly fear of rejection. If I never reject myself, no one else’s rejection would matter. If I proudly stick with who I really am, I can’t go wrong.

I honour all I have been through and all those who have helped me. Despite everything, life is good. It is full of love and blessings. I have the perfect role model. Someone who has never been afraid to express himself fully and be his wonderful self, spreading joy!

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We wish you a peaceful 2017! May you unwrap your wonderfulness and spread bliss! xxx