Does everyone have a visit from 'the black dog' now and again - or are some people always happy and carefree?
I get 'down in the dumps' rarely but when I do get the feeling I recognise it as soon as I wake in the morning. In my working days I had to be up, get chores done, get son to school, say farewell to husband as he set off for work - and all before 8.30 which was the very latest I allowed myself to arrive at school - can't bear a rush at the last minute. I was happier if I could get there by 8am. Whichever it was any down feeling I had woken up with had well and truly dispersed by the time I got to school.
But now that I live alone (albeit with so very many happy memories of two marriages, both with countless fascinating holidays and the pleasures I get from my son and his wife living near and my grandchildren all happy) I do sometimes wake up in a strange kind of mood when it would be very easy to slip into a slough of despond; to miss the fact that there are steps over the bog to rise above it.
We all have our 'steps' in place if we have thought about it enough (I am not of course speaking of people who suffer from severe depression and I am not belittling it in any way. Severe depression is an awful thing , a clinical condition and one which needs treatment.) I speak here of just feeling a bit down in the dumps, feeling the weight of our worries and concerns and tending to get them 'out of proportion'.
I lay awake half the night 'worrying' about such a petty thing. I got up, had a cup of tea and a custard cream (alright 2 custard creams), put on the world news which, although it made me realise just how fortunate we are to live where we do - no worries about some of the awful things going on in the world, did nothing to stop me worrying about my small worry (which, as I predicted, this morning was not a worry at all and had completely disappeared).
I am sure this happens to us all. In 'Our village' a book recommended to me by 'From my mental library' on my side bar ,the author, Mary Russell Mitford, suggests that one of the best antidotes (for women I hasten to add) is needlework (the most effectual sedative, the grand soother).
I woke up like that this morning - no needlework for me- can't even thread a needle any more - so after breakfast and the departure of my carer and the finishing of the Mind Games I did as Bunyan suggests and took a couple of steps, went out into the garden with Priscilla, put her brakes on and just sat in the sun.
Blue sky, white clouds, light breeze, slightly Autumnal. Have you ever noticed how those white puffy clouds, floating about in a bright blue sky, play games with you? You admire their nonchallant shape and think how pretty they look. You pick on one and admire it, take your eye off it for a second and when you look back it has completely changed its shape.
So you sit and watch it carefully, waiting for it to change shape again. Does it? Not 'til you look away then pouf - there it changes again. Try doing it - I promise you it works. Of course its probably windy up there and it is changing imperceptibly all the time - tiny little bits breaking off, other bits hurrying to tag on to the end.
But I assure you - ten minutes watching white clouds playing around on that blue backdrop, followed by another ten minutes dead-heading the most exquisitely brightly coloured pansies - yellow, white, orange, deep purple - and then on your way back in pausing to see the gallardia absolutely covered in bees - and you will go back indoors feeling a jolly sight better than you did when you went out!
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33 comments:
Rows and floes of angel hair
And ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere
I've looked at clouds that way.........
Joni Mitchell's great song "BOTH SIDES NOW"
Glad you are feeling better after a garden break - sounds like a wonderful day ahead dear Pat.
That sounds like a pretty perfect way to pass the time.
The best cure for transient times in "the slough of despond" is nature, as you so brilliantly pointed out, Pat.
Am glad you perked up and can look on the bright side of life, da dum de dum (thinking of Monty Python, of course!).
Hugs!
My frequent after-work walks are partly for that purpose, Pat - to keep the Black Dog at bay. True happiness and contentment can only arise, I believe, when we also know sadness and worry, and so the Black Dog has his place - it just should not become our permanent companion, if we can help it. As you say, clinical depression is something else and needs expert treatment, but even sufferers of that condition can benefit from the strategies we develop to pull ourselves out of the dump.
Sometimes I set off on a walk and for the first part, tears may flow freely when I am on my own with nobody around. I think of my Dad and of other people and things that make me sad, but I keep walking, and my eyes and ears are still open to my surroundings. Gradually, the sadness subsides, the tears stop, and I fully appreciate the birdsong, clouds, sunset, flowers and trees or whatever else I see and hear out there on the fields. It never fails.
The way life currently is, both nationally and world-wide, I imagine that most of us must suffer a spell of "black dog" on a regular basis these days.
After your comment about avoiding some of the news a couple of days ago, I'm surprised that you turned to the world news in the middle of the night, that's enough to depress anybody.
I decided a long time ago that down days are amply balanced out by up days.
I've been beaten to making the Joni Mitchell comment. I see animals or human faces in clouds.
I suffer from anxiety but not from the black dog. I also light candles and ring my ringing bowl to calm my fears. Now Mollie wakes me up in the middle of the night with her enormously loud voice, so I just feed her and make a cup of tea. Her foster carer messaged me she now has a 'silent' cat and I know exactly what she meant.
This works for me Pat:
Reaching for the “on” button on my little radio on waking. A human voice can cut through the silence, even if they’re talking rubbish!
Then downstairs to open the back door, letting in the sound of birdsong, traffic, rain etc, and boiling the kettle and clattering the cups. x
Interesting that you feel that needlework is only for women. "Interesting" because I remember reading a book about John Craske, a former fisherman who became sick with some mystery illness and took to making beautiful embroidered pictures of boats. It was almost impossible to find out much about Craske so the author set out to find other men who did embroidery - and she found them in the most unlikely places, like high security prisons, for instance! I don't suppose we should be surprised, after all tailoring was almost always a man's profession in the past and there are many male fashion designers. Personally I can't do anything more than stitch on the occasional button!
There is so much information recently about how gardening, no matter how small, can help mental health. Just being outdoors can help.
As the owner of two late black dogs, I've never understood why that term came into being. Nothing made me happier than those two, and of course all the other colors I have had and do have!
You cannot read that without singing the words! LOL
The calming effects of a cup of tea and a couple of biscuits in the small hours are amazing. I keep a tin of digestives for just such times and always get back to sleep afterwards, I maybe wake later than usual but always feel fine.
Fresh air, daylight (vitamin D), can't fault it.
I get the feeling that I'm running hard to stand still, the answer is walk away and breathe
For a minute there I thought you were talking about the mythical black dog said to appear to people who are soon to die! So very glad it wasn't that.
I rarely have a "down" day, although grief at the loss of my son 13 years ago still strikes frequently, often at the most unexpected times. I don't speak of it to others when it hits because what's the point. No one can fix it for me.
But working in the garden always, always relieves my stress and anxiety. Today, for instance, my husband's weedeater refuses to run. He has 2, took one to the shop and has worked on the other to no avail. Meanwhile the weeds and grass are getting so out of hand. So, I have been tackling it with my stringtrimmer, which is really not up to the job but I have kept at it until the worst is done. Then, I just patterned in the vegetable garden, picking beans, squash, broccoli, and cherry tomatoes, and came inside, dirty, sweaty, and
completely relaxed and happy.
Derek - quite often - if you catch it at the right time - there is some really interesting stuff on 231 - preferable to anything on the other channels in the middle of the night. But you are right Derek - I don't want to listen to the totally depressing news but sometimes I find it hard to keep away in case I am missing something/
John (Stargoose) My mother's brother - my uncle Albert - was a wonderful embroiderer - he was also a plate layer on the railway. Every niece and nephew got an embroidered tablecloth for a wedding present. Mine, which I have still, is a cut out one all round the edge - oak leaves and acorns, all embroidered in a deep fawn colour, on linen. I have it still and it was a wedding present in 1952.
Interesting the strategies we use to combat our sadnesses, our worries or just our 'bad' days.
So true. I like to do the word puzzles in our local area newspaper and I go out each day to buy a copy. Some mornings there is a distinct lack of enthusiasm for the walk itself, but the thought of the pleasure of coming home and settling down to tackle the puzzles provides the impetus to get out in the fresh air. I always feel better for having done so. I also love cloud watching and for the past few weeks, while the weather has been so unpredictable, I have noticed the fascinating cloud formations that we have had.
I've lived with the black dog for most of my life, since I was eight years old. Most of the time I'm ok but I do wonder what it would be like to enjoy life and not just survive life.
I enjoyed "The Elephant Whisperer" so much I wanted to return the favor. I just finished a book called "Remarkably Bright Creatures" by Shelby Van Pelt. One of the narrators is an octopus. It's a lovely book, both sweet and sad.
Good advice, Pat, to help lift one's spirits.
A good walk always works for me, enjoy the scenery and somehow all the big problems become little ones.
I am a happy person, layed back as they say. I never get in moods, lucky me. I always find something to do, read, or listen to, to keep me up. I don’t drink, do drugs or smoke, no need. I don’t look at much news as there is nothing I can do to make it any better. I give my pal, my dog lots of pats and sit outside and watch her sniff around and chase squirrels. I’m glad you get over your black dog moments quickly Weave.
As you say, we all feel a bit down now and again. I like your term: "rising above it" which is usually what is needed to move on to a happier place.
What a wonderful post. You and Going Gently have a lot in common - he lies down in the field.
have you read Black Dog by Ian McEwan? A short but powerful book.
Hi Weave. A shout-out to you and John. This about my grandpa and 'his needlework'.(1980's)
His
fine-fingered hand
mastered the stitches
necessary to crochet
a fine blanket
in many colours
to break the monotony
of pain.
And now it keeps me warm in
mine
while still keeping cheer
on hapless family adventures
to Sydney by train
or on the grassed backyard tea-party for dolls
by a great-grandaughter not even dreamt of
when the hook neatly
picked up the thread
of a story yet to be told.
And now the fallen teddy
looks on through tumbled cakes and jellies,
nose-close at just one of many stitches he did,
one of hundreds of thousands
of a gigantic effort
to stave off the inevitable. ...( great grandaughter is now nearly 40 Weave!)
I love your blog and your take on things.x - Pam.
(my Gramps had received a terminal cancer diagnosis and Nan taught him to crochet to keep him busy and his mind off things. He took to it like a fish to water) - Pam
Never heard of the black dog. You are an encyclopedia. Love your blog.
Your black dog immediately brought to mind John's reference to 'black shuck'. Glad yours was a DIFFERENT black dog!
Yes. I struggle with depression at times. I try to keep busy and remind myself that my days are a mix of good days and bad, but if you put those days in a box and gave it a good shake, I would open it to find that I have had a pretty blessed life.
Oh, yes, the warm sun on neck and shoulders!
I consider myself very fortunate in that I wake EVERY MORNING in a good mood, and happy. The only thing to change that during the day is other people's bad behaviour.
You could try LBC radio in the night.....often some good discussions! I seem to have it on most of the night sometimes.....(I believe that Cro also listens to LBC)
We have a wonderful little black lab mix named Annie. I was told that the black dogs are less likely to be adopted from shelters as they are "less desirable" due to the stigma of The Black Dog. Ridiculous! Jackie
I am still evacuated from my condo…hurricane Florida. We are llocked in my son’s home…streets are flooded…tide at noon will make it worse..but we missed the worst of it again…Tampa Bay Area right on the coast…whew…when up on his top deck and could see flooded streets and roaring ocean…
Brenda - hope things are not too bad when you are able to return home.
Pam Lovely heart-warming story.
Pixie - glad you enjoyed The Elephant Whisperer. Thanks for your recommendation.
Thanks to you all. As usual - such a lot to think about after reading you all.
Thank you. I was able to return after water left the streets. We are lucky hurricane did not hit us directly.
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