Day 494

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Maytree – a sanctuary for the suicidal is the only place of its kind in the UK and fills a gap in services between the medical support of the NHS and the helplines and drop-in centres of the voluntary sector. They offer a free 4-night stay and the opportunity to be befriended and heard in complete confidence, without judgement and with compassion and warmth.

It is an independent charity based in North London that provides a unique non-medical intervention for those at risk through suicidal thoughts and feelings. It can accommodate up to 4 guests at one time. They aim to create a calm and safe atmosphere in which people can find the time and space to rest, reflect and talk without pressure.

Common reasons for referral are – bereavement, relationship break down, depression, suicide of significant other, isolation, sexual abuse in childhood and enduring mental illness.

Here’s what some of the guests said:

‘Maytree changed my life in 4 days’
‘I felt more understood than at any time in my life’ ‘Maytree definitely saved my life’
‘I loved Maytree and I want to come back and be a volunteer’
‘I feel reborn, feel like a different person’
‘I am feeling surprisingly good – Maytree wouldn’t recognise me’ (at Maytree follow up call)
How does Maytree work?

“I was touched. It was a nice thing to do – someone asking hey, how are you, I was touched by that, especially when you have said you are going to kill yourself.”

Sounds really simple. Doesn’t it?
Being listened to in a non-judgemental way, being given time and space to talk and think.
I suppose there is potential for every home to be Maytree but right now there is only one.

Day 493

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Last time I saw this patient was in August 2014, when Saagar was alive.
Last week I saw him again. I looked at my notes and read through them. I had written them when Saagar was ill but alive. There was my handwriting and my signature. The patient was the same one. The hospital setting was the same. But, was I the same?

Who was I then and who am I now? Am I any more human than before? Any wiser, any kinder, any better or worse? Any more compassionate? Could my patient and others tell the difference if any? Do I feel any different within myself? Is it different being with other people? I haven’t analysed any of this as it is too subtle for words.

Music occupied most of the space in my head then. Now it is Saagar, his suffering, mental illness and the wrath it unleashes on families. Working took up most of my time then and now it is meeting with people and finding ways to reduce this suffering. I didn’t pay too much attention to my feelings and those of others but now I do. I used to be so critical of my writing that I never sent out ‘global’ e-mails to my colleagues. I kept a personal journal into which I made entries maybe once a month or so. Now I write everyday for myself and for anyone in the world who might want to read.

While there is something within us that never changes, we change all the time. Change is the only constant.

Day 492

Posted by kidsaregifts20

She is 40. Fit, healthy and smiling anxiously. She is in the hospital because she needs help with being able to be a mother. The doctors have given her some medicines to increase the number of mature eggs in her ovaries to help her with in-vitro fertilisation. She is on the operating table. Her husband waits outside. She is deeply sedated for harvesting of the eggs. The surgeon can see 2 follicles and he drains them both. He makes doubly sure that he has done everything he can to get the eggs out of those follicles for her.

My assistant sits in the corner, praying with her eyes closed and all of us have our fingers crossed. The embryologist from nextdoor comes back – ‘No eggs.’ There is a stunned silence in the room. Unbelievable! Everyone stops. The energy in the room drops to the floor.

We keep her asleep for a bit longer and take a few moments to mourn the loss of hope. The loss of a possibility, a future. The loss of what could have been. The loss of something that didn’t actually exist in that moment.

While feeling this way, I was utterly grateful for having experienced motherhood with all its joys and trials.

‘Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.’ – Alfred Lord Tennyson.

Day 491

Posted by kidsaregifts20

The government has recently published the statistics on suicides in the UK for 2011-13. On the graph showing the age-specific death rate there is an obvious first peak amongst young men. In addition there is a sudden second peak in men around the age of 80.

20% of the elderly in the UK show early signs of depression. The figure rises to about 40% for the elderly living in nursing homes. It is often associated with age-related disorders like Alzheimer’s disease, Parkinson’s disease, thyroid disease, cancer, diabetes or dementia. Other contributory factors are:

Physical pain and illness
Poverty
Isolation and loneliness
Bereavement or losing a loved one
Being physically or sexually abused

The elderly face more of these problems than younger people but the diagnosis of depression is often missed in the elderly. When they do decide to end their lives it is not an impulsive act but one that has been well thought through.

In his talk ‘The lethality of loneliness’, John Cacioppo says that although we are individuals, our survival depends on our collective abilities, not individual minds. We are connected across our life spans to one another through a myriad of invisible forces. Just like hunger, thirst and pain are signals for self-preservation, so is feeling isolated. At an non-conscious level it puts our biology in a state of stress and hypervigilance to social threats. That can cause more negative interactions due to increased defensiveness, depressive symptoms and poor quality of sleep.

When I was a child there were very few people I knew who lived alone but now the number is huge. In 1980, roughly 20% people are reported to have felt lonely at any time in a year but now the percentage has doubled.

Studies have shown that loneliness increases the odds ratio for an early death by 45% not just in humans but also in isolated animals.

What can we do?

Recognize it.
Understand what it does to our mind and body.
Respond – it is the quality and not the quantity of friendships/ relationships that matter. Becoming a part of something bigger than oneself by volunteering for a good cause, like visiting old people’s homes or adopting a granny and sharing good times and bad.

In short, let’s get connected.

Day 490

Posted by kidsaregifts20

Time to Talk – A service for people affected by suicide.
This year it will be held at St Martin-in-the-Fields, Trafalgar square. London on the 27^th of February from 10.30-11.30 am.
It is a non-religious service and all are welcome.

“Gentleness is an old-fashioned word. I want to describe what it means and why it is so important.

To be affected by suicide is to be surrounded by enemies: sometimes memories, fears, isolation, shame, guilt, regret: the enemy of loss, failure, doubt – the unknown. It’s not hard to feel powerless and out of control when it feels like there are so many enemies.

One of the most paradoxical of all the sayings in the Bible is, ‘My strength is made perfect in weakness’. The way to address our vulnerability, our fear and our self-destructiveness is not with some great show of strength. It’s through making friends with our weakness. And the name for that is gentleness.

It’s all very well to say, ’Be gentle with yourself.’ But what does that mean? Possibly 3 things :

The first is silence. It can feel like a great enemy, because if you stop moving or talking or tuning into some kind of gadget, then your mind can go into overdrive. But silence can become a friend if it turns from a place of absence to a theatre of presence. Silence is for listening to the abundance of what’s out there, birds that sing and tweet, breezes that stir and swing, a tiny, busy world of insects and creatures. Silence is for watching, paying attention to texture, depth, hidden beauty and delicate detail, wispy cloud, distant blue sky and intricate snowflakes. Time, instead of being a threat or a diminishing commodity, becomes irrelevant. Silence stops being the interval between distractions and starts being the place of exhilarating, infinite discovery. It’s a fruit of gentleness.

The second thing gentleness means is touch. Many of the feelings associated with suicide are violent, sudden ones. Gentleness embraces those feelings but issues in tender touch. Holding a person’s hand says, ’I’m here. This is good. You can trust me. I am not going to run away. I’m not in a hurry. Your body, your life, your presence, your hand – it’s good. I’m not going to grab it. I am going to cherish it. Holding your hand I can feel the mystery of your flesh, the blood coruscating in your veins, the warmth and softness and creativity of your fingers. These are mysterious and wondrous things. We were made for solidarity. We were made to stand by each other in times of sorrow and distress. No one is an island. Together we are a continent. Those are the tender things touch teaches. They are the fruit of gentleness.

And then, when we have made a foundation of silence and touch, then you can begin to try words. In the absence of silence and touch, words can seem disembodied, arbitrary, meaningless. But if you have made friends with silence and trusted yourself to find good ways to touch, words don’t have to be too much work. Actions have already spoken. Understanding is already there. Words are faltering attempts to give feelings, images and ideas a name. If they are surrounded by silence and touch, those words usually come out very gently. Harsh words hurt. Gentle words heal.

Sometimes it may seem that happiness is way out of reach. But the truth is that happiness seldom comes to those who go looking for it. It’s only discovered on the way by people who are seeking something more important. Silence, touch and words are that something more important. They’re the way to show solidarity to one another.They’re the way to dismantle the enemies that sometimes seem to surround us. They’re the way to be gentle with ourselves. They’re the way, slowly, carefully, cautiously, to learn to live again.”

-An excerpt from Revd. Dr Sam Wells’ address from Time to Talk service held on 28^th Feb 2015.