Three years ago my depression dove deep beneath the familiar choppy waves I had been pushing and pulling against for more than a decade and showed me a darker hidden swirling place with only the occasional shaft of light and currents that I was powerless against.
A few years ago my son had a brief stint in a mental health facility after a psychotic break. Two weeks in, his doctor asked if I would come and take him out for the day because they were worried that he seemed depressed (?). But there were rules: we couldn’t drive and we had to be gone for two hours minimum but no more than 4 (staff shift change). And to top it off, he wasn’t speaking to me because he perceived me to be the reason he was in the facility. I didn’t know what to do, so we walked into the town, bought sandwiches and sat silently in the park. He looked very vulnerable and pale and cross and he hid his face in his very long and bushy hair. It was awful. After sandwiches we got up and walked the other way and when we came to a barber I asked if he’d like a haircut. He shrugged and went in the door. The barber asked which cut he’d like from a numbered selection and he pointed at Number 4 (I’ll always remember...weird, right?). The barber clipped and buzzed for a good 20 minutes. And from under the lank brush a young man appeared and I thought I saw him almost smile at his reflection. I paid and we left to go back. He’d brush the inside of his collar from time to time, and then run his hand up his nape. Out of the corner of my eye I’d see him glance at a shop window and catch his reflection. and halfway back he started to tell me about a movie they’d watched the night before. By the time we got to his building he was telling me about the food (alright) and the structure (he liked it) and his room (sucked). He left within the week. Sadly, three years later he again doesn’t speak to me (same reasoning) but he asks his dad to take him to get his haircut now or he considers it when it is suggested to him, and we always notice how it uplifts him. All this blather (I’m so sorry) to say, it’s a weird little thing, isn’t it, but it makes a funny and kind of fundamental difference. And it’s a thing you sometimes don’t know until you know.
Well done Pippy and im so glad you were pleased with it. I remember once having a panic attack at the hairdressers while I had colour on my hair... gahhhh the worst.... I excused myself to the toilet and flailed and then fronted back up for the rest while feeling totally weird and having the mind reading thoughts too. There would be a whole doco in panic attacks at hairdressers I reckon. I totally thought I might rip my clothes off and wee on the floor!!! Bloody Nora! You're doing good. Yes xxx. Oh and good news... Bincy totally into Korean cooking at the moment so took me to a shop where he buys his stuff and I got ANGRY LADY and the fermented chilli paste stuff!!! The joy!!!! I actually clapped when I saw the angry lady! So anyway I made enough kimchi to feed the whole of Brisvegas and I made kimchi fried rice and scallops. Pony was very happy. Now I have belly ache. The end. Lovage to you xxxx
A few years ago my son had a brief stint in a mental health facility after a psychotic break. Two weeks in, his doctor asked if I would come and take him out for the day because they were worried that he seemed depressed (?). But there were rules: we couldn’t drive and we had to be gone for two hours minimum but no more than 4 (staff shift change). And to top it off, he wasn’t speaking to me because he perceived me to be the reason he was in the facility. I didn’t know what to do, so we walked into the town, bought sandwiches and sat silently in the park. He looked very vulnerable and pale and cross and he hid his face in his very long and bushy hair. It was awful. After sandwiches we got up and walked the other way and when we came to a barber I asked if he’d like a haircut. He shrugged and went in the door. The barber asked which cut he’d like from a numbered selection and he pointed at Number 4 (I’ll always remember...weird, right?). The barber clipped and buzzed for a good 20 minutes. And from under the lank brush a young man appeared and I thought I saw him almost smile at his reflection. I paid and we left to go back. He’d brush the inside of his collar from time to time, and then run his hand up his nape. Out of the corner of my eye I’d see him glance at a shop window and catch his reflection. and halfway back he started to tell me about a movie they’d watched the night before. By the time we got to his building he was telling me about the food (alright) and the structure (he liked it) and his room (sucked). He left within the week. Sadly, three years later he again doesn’t speak to me (same reasoning) but he asks his dad to take him to get his haircut now or he considers it when it is suggested to him, and we always notice how it uplifts him. All this blather (I’m so sorry) to say, it’s a weird little thing, isn’t it, but it makes a funny and kind of fundamental difference. And it’s a thing you sometimes don’t know until you know.
Well done Pippy and im so glad you were pleased with it. I remember once having a panic attack at the hairdressers while I had colour on my hair... gahhhh the worst.... I excused myself to the toilet and flailed and then fronted back up for the rest while feeling totally weird and having the mind reading thoughts too. There would be a whole doco in panic attacks at hairdressers I reckon. I totally thought I might rip my clothes off and wee on the floor!!! Bloody Nora! You're doing good. Yes xxx. Oh and good news... Bincy totally into Korean cooking at the moment so took me to a shop where he buys his stuff and I got ANGRY LADY and the fermented chilli paste stuff!!! The joy!!!! I actually clapped when I saw the angry lady! So anyway I made enough kimchi to feed the whole of Brisvegas and I made kimchi fried rice and scallops. Pony was very happy. Now I have belly ache. The end. Lovage to you xxxx