People are Brilliant – a true short story

There’s a Co-op near my kids’ school, it has a cash machine and useful things. It’s also near the car-park that most parents use when dropping kids off, it’s very handy.

Today after dropping the children off I needed to get some cash, so I made for the cash machine. As I was preparing to cross a short access road, I witnessed a small grey car reverse into an old man, who fell down. It was a really slow impact, the driver stopped immediately and there were plenty of witnesses to confirm that it was an accident.

The driver (a young woman) got out of the car and went straight to the old man, to see if he was OK, she was obviously shocked herself and apart from establishing that he wasn’t unconsious or anything, she was at a bit of a loss. A couple of nearby builders (they were doing some work to the shop sign ) stepped in to take care of the old man, and established what his name was. Another lady heard him say that he was just going in to buy his papers so offered to go in and get them for him.

I’m pretty sure that the old fella was as embarassed as he was bruised, but he accepted all the offers of help graciously. Then there was a lady with an NHS ID badge on – of course there was – and she took over assessing the old guy.

The driver had taken a step back by now, and was visibly shaking and trying not to cry, she kept saying that she was reversing really slowly and she just didn’t see him. It’s true, she was, and I and several other people confirmed to her that this was the case. I’d stepped up to her at this point and took her shaking hand and my other arm partly around her shoulder, she seemed to calm a little. One of the builders said “it was just an accident, these things happen”.

The old fella didn’t appear to be badly injured at all, apart from maybe his pride, but the NHS lady and the builders got him up off the floor and in to the driver’s car, because she was going to give him a lift to his home, apparently he only lived around the corner. The builders even said they would follow her in their van, so that they could help the guy out at his destination, and that’s what they did, and I went and got my cash.

People are brilliant. When you see people about their business; builders, mums, childminders, shop assistants, that’s just one face you see, you don’t know what else they know or what other experiences they’ve had. One of the builders said at one point, that he worked for years in Mental Health, for example.

A bunch of strangers worked together to help other strangers in a crisis, and then went back to their separate lives and tasks. A first aid flash mob. A story of co-ordinated compassion and empathy developed from small disparate interventions, and kindness drove us all.

A hopeful start to a Wednesday morning.

 

What do you know?

Just over a week ago, I was at a funeral. The deceased was in her early 50’s and died too young, her widower and her young but adult daughters were the epitome of grace and dignity and did her proud. It was a very emotional day, and as is the way, often with these things, I learnt that I didn’t know her very well at all. I knew her as a good, welcoming, friendly, open neighbour and I hope a friend. We had some shared experience, children of a similar age, and her work and my husband’s often overlapped. The sort of friend who you know you could ask a favour of and she would help if she could. She invited me and my younger children over to hold their puppies when they were big enough, because she knew that would be quite brilliant for them. It turns out that she was quite religious, if we’d met more often socially, maybe I would have known that, but I didn’t.

At the same time Donald Trump had been in office for a matter of days, and no-body quite knew what was going on or was going to happen, but there was a lot of concern, in the media, and in my own head, that the vitriolic, aggressive and rascist rhetoric he espoused during his election campaign, was coming home to roost. Fear and dissemblance seemed to be the order of the moment.

Skip to the wake. I chatted to her immediate family for a short while and then because I was otherwise on my own, I found myself a quiet corner to stand and drink my tea and observe quietly. The room was packed. After a short time, I was joined by another lady with the same intention I think. Dressed in long black or purple velvet, with long dyed black hair with bleached bits underneath (does that have a name?) – her appearance suggested in a completely prejudicial kind of way, that she might be a kindred spirit*. We chatted. Starting with the obligatory opening gambit that strangers employ at weddings and funerals – “how do you know the family?” – Her story was that she knew the deceased’s father from her youth and from her time in his church. (Ah not so like me as I thought then) He was a pastor and obviously had a massive impact on her life. She talked to me about her faith as a born again Christian, which in itself was interesting. She was full of love and peace. Then she asked me if I had a faith, and I told her I was pagan.

She seemed genuinely interested, and although she did say that I should look for Jesus**, she didn’t tell me that I was wrong. She asked me specifically about what I believed happens after we die. I explained, that for me it’s all about life and death, decomposition and release. If we live a good life, our love and spirit lives on in the people we’ve loved and our energy returns to the land. Dust to dust I suppose. She smiled at me and said “Yes, isn’t that amazing” and then something about being 1 bucket of water and several buckets of dust, it sounded like a repeated refrain from her world. I told her that I believed also in the power of women, to birth, to teach and to renew. She smiled again and said “Jesus loves women”.

She did go off on one a bit, about me avoiding Hell (she couldn’t say the word) and not taking a chance on eternity, but as I don’t believe in Hell, that meant very little to me. She was open and honest, and she’s the first stranger I’ve spoken to at length about anything for a very long time.

As I drove home, I recalled the quote from Jo Cox’s maiden House of Commons speech, which became so popular in the weeks of her brutal murder.

“…we are far more united and have far more in common with each other than things that divide us.” Jo Cox, June 2015

It was true then, it’s true now, it was true about the Born Again Christian and the Pagan who met briefly at a wake, and it will be true in the future.

Do not engage with the fearmongers and the name callers, do what you can to break through the dissemblance, learn, speak and live your truth, be kind, be generous, be compassionate. These are the things that will win the day and change the world.

 

*what does a pagan look like anyway? – this is what one pagan looks like…

**please don’t ask me to look for Jesus, I respect your faith, and I don’t reject the concept out of hand, but He is not on my path.

 

 

It’s not about you, or me…

Loving someone with depression is hard. It can be painful and it can be intense.

At this point I need to put on the table that I have not suffered with any form of mental illness, so far in my life. This does not make me better or “stronger” than those who have, but is a privilege granted to me by fortune alone. It does make understanding what those people are going through a little bit harder. As a person who has not been through childbirth cannot fully understand what childbirth is like, a person who has not suffered from any mental illness cannot fully understand what mental illness is like. It is possible to empathise though. I’ve never broken a bone, but I can support someone who has.

I have been sad, very sad, on occasion. But it was always for an identifiable reason and I was lucky enough to come out of the other side of those occasions still me, still ‘normal’. And in any case “being sad” is not the same as depression, not the same at all.

 

Source:  http://differenceofthinking.tumblr.com/post/125055430162

I’m trying really hard, not to make this post about me. Amongst the people I love there are some with depression. I expect there are others who simply haven’t told me they have depression. The stigma of mental ill health is another subject entirely. Those people may well read this post, but I’m not writing it to explain myself to them or to illicit their sympathy towards me. I’m writing it because I know there are other people who find it hard to know what to do, or how to be around someone they care about who is depressed. Everyone is unique, of course, and their needs are equally unique. I certainly do not have all the answers. I have made mistakes, I know I have, and I’m sure I’ll make more but I have two things to offer, that might help you as they help me.

Firstly understand and apply this theory, I’m not an expert, but this really works, and not just for mental illness.

 

 

Source:  http://articles.latimes.com/2013/apr/07/opinion/la-oe-0407-silk-ring-theory-20130407

The person who is unwell is the dot in the centre. You as the person who loves them are in the ring around the dot. People who care about you both are in the circle around you, and so on. The basic principle is that comfort goes in to the circles and stress/debriefing comes out.

However hard it is for you to accept or understand what is happening to the person you love, whether you agree with their decision to take medication or not, whether you are personally affected by their illness, whether their illness makes you feel anxious, worried, stressed, or all of the above, you DO NOT share that with them. You support them and you comfort them. You help them, if they want you to, and you are there for them when they need a hand to hold (whether figuratively or literally). Then when you can, you find someone close to you, in the circle outside of you to help you process what’s happening. It is not the ill person’s job to make you feel better – they have enough on their plates. If you need medical information, consider asking your own GP – it’s probably best not to Google!

This leads me nicely on to my second offering to you…find your own support network, talk to people who care about you, who may understand depression more than you, take their comfort so you can provide your own, to the person who needs you.

I can’t tell you exactly what your loved one needs, but I can tell you that they need YOU. They need you to accept them as they are. As my very dear loved one said to me “I’m still me!”

They need you to support them in their decision making and discuss the options by all means, but decisions are theirs and theirs alone.

As someone in my own circle of support said to me:

“… love involves work and courage. You’ll need both. Being there, consistent, unchanging, not panicking, not over reacting, not crying(!) is probably all they need from you”

And finally, the following links are two excellent sources of professional information and support for everyone affected by mental ill health.

http://www.sane.org.uk/home

http://www.mind.org.uk/

 

With love

Mel x