Under predict, exceed expectations

Christmas has come and gone, and we've had a social one seeing friends from near and far. Yesterday I caught up with a school friend and her family and we talked about pacing ourselves and achieving things without killing oneself. She had a very wise mantra that she shared with me regarding one's approach to work and being careful about what one commits oneself to - "under predict, exceed expectations". I think I have a habit of over committing and raising high expectations from the start and then not being able to achieve the rather impossibly high challenge I've set for myself. I shall try to think about this with my new job and be careful to not take on way too much.

Have had all sorts of mixed emotions over Christmas. For the most part I have been on a high with all the socializing and catching up with people I haven't seen for a while. I inadvertently offended family though which put a slightly sour spin on things and I felt ultra sensitive to the rebuke. I need to try not be insensitive to things but develop a thicker skin and not sink into my habit of continuing to dwell on it and self-flagellate. I do tend to do this though and then I become sensitive to whole lot of other things in addition to the original issue and everything becomes too much.

Past Christmases come to mind at this time of year too. Both my Grandparents died around Christmas time. I also remember having to always spend Christmas with my Dad and my Mum having to drop my Sister and I off straight after church. My Mum would then spend Christmas on her own. Recent Christmases have been happier but I at times acutely feel the lack of family here, although some of our friends are now basically family.

God is Good!

If you happen to have been following my blogs recently you may have noticed they were a little down in the dumps. Part of this was due to my uncertainty jobwise for next year. Well good news, no in fact great news! It looks 98% certain that I have a job and it is possibly the best job I could have asked for. I saw a post advertised in the local Bambazonke community news email and applied to work as the Volunteers' Coordinator at a local game park. That position would have been mostly in hospitality with a little bit of outdoor work. During the interview the people questioning me were interested in my science and ecology background and it ended up turning into a discussion on what could be done to up the level of science research and monitoring. In a way I outlined what would be to me an ideal job.

After the interview I immediately got an email back from the interviewers saying they were very impressed and wanted me to go out to the game park for a couple of days to get a real feel for it. I am house sitting so couldn't go overnight so they said they'd make a plan and get back to me. The date I was supposed to go out passed and my psychologist prompted me to pursue it further so I sent a follow up email. This led to them saying that they had been thinking the whole thing through and although they wanted to rather employ a guy to be with the volunteers, they had decided to create a whole other new position of a Science Officer and would I be interested?!

I had basically created the position from the interview and it has many of the things I really want to be doing in the job description. I will go out early in January and we will sit down and discuss the final contract and conditions but it looks like I've got it and it could be great experience and they seem like great people.

So all in all, it all looks so much brighter and I can enter into 2014 with a much better idea of what I'm going to be doing. Praise God :)

Coming out of a dip

Have had a bit of a dip the last couple of weeks. I think it has been closely tied to making decisions for next year and facing job uncertainty once again. I had an interview for a job out at a local game park but as of yet I don't know if I got it or not. The interview seemed to go well and I got a follow up email immediately after asking if I would be able to go out and stay at the nature reserve for a few days so that I could get a real feel for what would be involved and the people who would employ me could see how I coped. Unfortunately as I am house sitting I couldn't go overnight and it turned out the game park was hosting a wedding and they became tied up with that and so it has been postponed till after Christmas. It would seem there is still a good chance I could get the job but it doesn't give me a definite answer yet.

I don't deal with big changes in my life easily and I spend a lot of energy weighing things up in my head. The what-ifs and the maybes all weigh heavily and I get cold feet. As an escape I often just sleep it away by not getting going in the morning.

I found these cartoons of what it is like to have depression the other day and find them rather apt.
http://www.buzzfeed.com/hnigatu/comics-that-capture-the-frustrations-of-depression

In particular these two really resonated with me.

I also came across this article in The New York Times that I found rather interesting and if what it suggests is true, then the work you do does play a part in determining your happiness and keeping busy is a big contributor.

http://www.nytimes.com/2013/12/15/opinion/sunday/a-formula-for-happiness.html?smid=fb-nytimes&WT.z_sma=OP_AFF_20131216&bicmp=AD&bicmlukp=WT.mc_id&bicmst=1385874000000&bicmet=1388638800000&fblinkge0&_r=0

Perhaps the new job will be good for me and bring about a good change. I hope so.

Competition

I have a friend who loves to play competitive sports and games. I started going to a pub quiz held every fortnight with them and some other friends, but after a while I found that my friend's overly competitive nature took the enjoyment out of it and I was no longer so keen. For each question he took it very seriously and if we didn't know the answer we had to keep going back over and over the sticky questions. If we got the answers wrong we had to do a postmortem at the end to see where we went wrong and how far off we were. I am not as you may have gathered that fazed about winning.

The last few days I've been thinking about how to survive in life it is a competition. During school there is always the pressure to be the best and you are compared to others throughout. It doesn't get easier, at university you have to try to excel and on entering the job market only the best are sought after. On being introduced to people you are always asked what you do and it is expected that you are good at what you do.

There are very few jobs these days where you are not constantly being assessed on how you do and where your salary isn't in some way influenced by how good you are. Even if you work for an organization you are trying to compete for that organization with other people who could do the same in a different company. Charities and other organizations working for the good of others are often having to compete for funding and therefore even if they are not aiming for it, their work is performance driven.

I just wish we didn't all depend on money to lead our lives and that one could do one's work without feeling compelled to have to compare with someone else and measure where you are in relation to the world around you. Perhaps there is a way, I just have to find it.

Thanksgivukkah

As my posts have been quite negative the last couple of weeks and since today is both Thanksgiving and the start of Hanukkah I thought I would just add the things I am grateful for. I am blessed to have caring people around me and good friends, a great therapist and a concerned and caring doctor and psychologist. I am lucky to be in a position to afford to receive care and treatment for my depression and have people who would stand in the gap for me if I needed it. I have a roof over my head, dogs that love me and who I love, a brain, connections and different options.

I came across this cartoon today - see this link Here’s A Shocking Truth If You Think You’ve Wasted Your Life
I guess I have many options and need to remain open to new challenges and opportunities. That's what life is about.

To those who read this blog and who give me support, thank you :)

The Past that haunts me

In many ways mine was not the happiest of childhoods. I had the session today with my Mum at my therapist's. Although we looked at where I was currently and some of the things I need to address now, much of my hurt and inner pain goes back to when I was little and the real person who should be sitting there is my Dad who is the root of much of it. Memories of my Dad's erratic, irrational and quite often violent behavior and the rejection he projected towards me cuts deep and is something I have to work through. My Mum remembers his self-medicating with an alarmingly large and unidentified cocktail of drugs and various pills. Some my mood swings are similar to his which scares me. My Dad to date remains untreated for bipolar depression though and refused to accept help.

My Mum said I should try to look at the good qualities I inherited from my Dad. His inquiring scientific mind, his artistic temperament and his sensitivity. With that though comes the curse of my illness and he passed on his own unhappy childhood to me. Even now I think there lingers a fear of my Father and what he could possibly do next. I don't know how I would react if he suddenly walked through the door and back into my life.

The last time I saw my Father was when I was fourteen and was at the High Court where he had just been issued a restraining order which effectively blocked him out of my life. My Sister and I had had to go into the court and see the judge privately to testify against my Dad. Somehow we crossed paths with my Dad on the way out and he started shouting down the corridor he had a right to see his own children. We were quickly ushered into another room and my Dad was dragged away. He has not tried to make contact with me since that day, although he has communicated with my Sister.

In many ways this is a relief but it leaves an awful lot unsaid and unhealed. I don't know that I would get the satisfactory response I desire though were I to sit face to face with my Father and hash it all out. He was able to intimidate me when I was small and his anger terrified me. I think I would feel a great anger towards him for all he did and wasn't though should I see him and I would almost blame him for my disease and unhappiness. I guess this would not all be entirely fair and what I really need to do is somehow find it in me to forgive.

Mood Swings

Been up and down the last few days. Was doing well and then yesterday I hit a bump and it left me feeling zapped of energy and motivation. I just didn't feel up to meeting with people and retreated, backing out of a meeting I was supposed to have. Today I woke up late but in a better humour and brighter outlook. How much of this was tied up with PMT and hormones and how much was just otherwise I don't know. I can go from feeling exhilarated though to being unable to face the world and feeling inept and helpless.

I wish I could master my moods and not let them master me.

Letting Go ...

On Thursday I will be having a therapy session with both my Mum and my therapist. My therapist has been trying to get my Mum to come for quite a while as there is stuff I need to have out with and my therapist feels it's important as my Mum's my primary care giver in many ways and my support. Undoubtedly it's going to involve digging up a lot of the past though and in some ways I'm dreading it as it will stir up things that are buried at the back of my mind. A lot of it has to do with my Dad but it affects my relationship with my Mum and my Sister. I don't really ever talk about these things but they at times can eat away at me and issues I have with my Sister are often anger that is diverted from my Mum and stems way way back to my childhood.

I guess the person who I really need to have it out with is my Dad. He hurt me in many different ways and inflicted wounds that go deep into my psyche and outlook. My Dad was bipolar but never went for treatment. As a child I took his moods personally and he made me be an adult when he was not. I had to be the eldest and handle his mercurial mood changes and temper. I had to be loyal to both my warring parents and try as a five year old to make sense of the mess that made up my family and being. This forced me to grow up at an age when I was not ready to.

I don't know what will come up on Thursday or how my Mum is going to respond. She has read this blog and when she did didn't react quite as I thought she would. We don't normally talk of the past to each other and I don't voice much of what's inside. I guess it is important to get it out but it's not going to be easy.

Thinking back ...

The topic for writing group this week is memories and funnily enough I have been thinking back to what I remember of times when I was decidedly psychotic. The earliest point when I would say I was definitely a bit off the rails mentally was in Form 3. I had taken on too much at school, had a nasty episode at the dentist and my Dad had been charged for attempted murder. All of this compounded and pushed me over the edge. I became extremely paranoid, aggressive, defensive and ultra sensitive. I also had panic attacks and became an insomniac. It eventually worked itself out but I was off school for well over a month and life was hell for not only me but also my family who had to live with me.

Psychosis made another visit before I started Lower Six and after not sleeping for 3 consecutive nights I spent the day at my Godmother's. To try make me sleep I was given a sleeping tablet but instead of inducing sleep I instead experienced hallucinations and came up with a confused theory in my head involving my Godmother and ended swearing at her and saying I never wished to see her ever again. It took a long time to try repair the damage I did with my utterances.

I was fine for the next couple of years until the rocky period leading up to and during the 2008 Zim elections. Being based in Cape Town I was not home and only got the international news of home where my family still was. It ended up that I was to fly to Switzerland a few days before the election and I had gone to the doctor as I was very uptight and couldn't sleep. She said perhaps I had depression but as I was flying to Switzerland there was not much that could be done. She advised I take rescue remedy with me as she couldn't put me on medication without being able to monitor me. Therefore armed with a bottle of rescue remedy I boarded the plane and flew thousands of miles away from home. This probably was not the best idea and I'm afraid my mental state deteriorated over the following week. I became aggressively patriotic and loud with the group of international students I was with and felt everything needed to be centered on Zimbabwe, as my thoughts were. I probably was very disruptive and hard to deal with. At one point I felt persecuted and paranoid and felt the others were all against me. As usual with these episodes, my old enemy of sleepless nights visited and made it worse.

Probably one of the worst cases I've had though was on my return to Zim from Switzerland. I had a cataclysmic psychotic episode whilst doing my PhD in Lausanne which made me quit my studies and where I felt I had let everyone down and brought me close to the brink of suicide. This made me get institutionalized for around two months, with a brief discharge followed by a re-admission. Ultimately deciding to return to Zimbabwe I had a horrific flight home where my deluded mind had me believing I was wanted internationally for having wasted my university's funds by quitting and that I was going to be arrested. I was extremely agitated and the journey was hellish. Getting home did nothing to relieve this and I felt judged and condemned by everyone. We only managed to see my doctor two days after returning and again I felt she was judging me and disapproving. When I was put in hospital in Harare I thought I was being convicted for my "crime" and that I was going to be interrogated. I also thought my Mum was going to be tortured and I got greatly caught up in thinking it was all political. When my Mum had to leave me I went into a panic thinking she would never come back and I ran out the hospital room and nearly had to be sedated and tied to my bed. That night I had the worst hallucinations I've ever had and tried to jump out the second floor window. Some of this was brought on by not having had any more of the medication I had been put on in Switzerland and the chemicals in my brain went ballistic.

I am indebted to my doctor and psychologist in Zim who has helped sort out my medication to avoid any further psychotic episodes to date and who has helped me come back to "normality". It has been a long journey and at times there are still distances to go. I just pray I never go back to some of the purgatory I've experienced in the past and I wouldn't wish it on even my worst enemy.

Striving onwards

"I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, 14 I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me"

The last couple of weeks have been challenging ones in many different ways. I lost the job that is my main source of income and then due to a conflict of personal interests and my not being happy from a moral perspective, I gave up another job which would have given me some finances. The work I am passionate about is there, but doesn't pay and is completely voluntary. In amongst this I have still been grappling with what it is that I truly want to do. All jobs seem to require you to be really good at something and you have to throw yourself into them with loads of self-confidence. I guess I lack the confidence to market myself and I would rather just work in the background.

Photo-journalism is something that appeals but I feel like I would have to be really really good to make it and that scares me. With more scientific things I feel I am not clever enough and that someone else would do a much better job. There is also huge competition in that for funding and you are constantly having to search for this. In many ways I wish I didn't have to work full time and have to have a job working for someone else. My ideal life would be to write when I feel like it, dabble in painting for enjoyment, be outdoors and maybe fit in a spot of gardening with my dogs by my side. 

So my quest continues and I still don't know exactly what it is that I really really want to do. The quote below really challenges me. It sort of goes back to the topic from the book "The Artist's Way", about living life in abundance and having faith to go after what you really want and not see things as out of your reach and too much to ask for.

Just coping

The last couple of weeks I've been feeling snowed under with work and commitments. I have been feeling depressed and at times slightly suicidal again. Two of my bosses are very demanding and just expect me to be at their beck and call at a moment's notice. The work I really enjoy doing is voluntary and so I have been having to do the other jobs first but have constantly been aware I have a number of things that need to get done pronto. Getting up in the morning has become harder and I've been struggling trying to see the point of it all.

At times like this I feel like I'm swimming under a layer of thick treacle and I'm struggling for each breath and the will to keep swimming. Just the simplest of things seem overwhelming and each day seems to just bring more worries and things I've got to deal with. A contributor to this is the uncertainty of what I will do once my one current job ends in December. Life seems precarious and I fret about it. I know I should just trust and try not to worry, but I do.

With these moods I don't really feel like seeing people at times and want to just pull away and sleep my life away. Dreams become vivid and at times I find it then hard to separate what is reality from what I have been dreaming. What I dream becomes entangled with my thoughts and worries and so it is hard to differentiate as it seems my brain doesn't stop working and it is just a continuum.

The one big comfort is spending time with my animals. Their unwavering affection and nonjudgmental love is always healing and time with them always leaves me feeling less stressed and anxious.

People have said that where I'm at lends itself to open opportunities and a new beginning. I have to just keep trusting and believing and looking at a variety of options of what I can do next.

My personal capital

Today was another session with my therapist and I talked about the latest happenings in my life and my stress levels. She said it is normal to feel anxious about becoming unemployed. One of the things that has been bothering me is if something were to happen to my Mum I really don't know how I would cope both emotionally and financially. She made me sit back and look at it objectively and see what my personal capital is. The first is that I have a degree and a brain. My big challenge is finding paying work though here in Zim for what I'm qualified for. This is an ongoing struggle. I guess it is a challenge for a lot of young people though as work is scarce. I have to be creative and be able to do a variety of things. The person interviewing me for possible teaching positions at a local school commented last Friday that I've had a checkered career. I don't know that this has been out of choice but more as a result of the Zimbabwean economic climate.

Another thing my therapist told me to focus on to quell my fears of being left destitute should my Mum pass away was my social network. I don't think I would want to ask people for help though. I find this very difficult. With my recent anxieties my therapist made me think about how I should tackle these. One of the key things was to tell someone. I don't do this readily and try to just go on even if I'm not coping. Part of it is that people will offer advice and this is not always helpful.

With my job search I keep questioning what it is that I really want to do and struggle to find jobs that will give me fulfillment. I came across this article titled

20-Year-Old Hunter S. Thompson’s Superb Advice on How to Find Your Purpose and Live a Meaningful Life

by Maria Popovawhich sums it up pretty much in what I constantly am grappling with. The things I'd love to do just don't pay. Finding purpose and doing what I'm truly passionate about are a big factor in ultimately making me happy and giving me something to get up in the morning for.

Travel bug

Besides a trip to Cape Town and then a day crossing to Chobe in Botswana I haven't ventured out of Zim this year. I have fitted in a fair bit of travel around Zim so for that I'm grateful. Am feeling in need of another adventure though and would love to hop on a plane and go off to somewhere new. Perhaps not on my own and possibly I'm not brave enough to go where I don't know a single other soul. All the same, to see somewhere new and to hopefully meet new, interesting people is a desire.


In a way, going just for a holiday seems like an expensive luxury. I would rather go for a reason and possibly to do something with it. Would then feel my savings were being maximized. The UK has an allure as there are many school friends there, some of whom I have not seen in some time now and also some family. But further afield than that also appeals ... to go off to Canada, the Antarctic (to see emperor penguins), South America, Australia ... I need a fat bank balance and some courage to do this, but it is a dream nonetheless.

Harare can feel comfortingly small and cosy and then stifling and claustrophobic at the same time. I miss Cape Town and living next to the ocean. I would give anything to have a beach readily on hand and be able to go and dig my feet in silky sea sand and watch the magnitude of the waves pummeling the shore. I also miss having mountains making up my skyline not to mention some of my friends that I had. There were lonely moments in Cape Town too though. I have got a big circle of friends now in Harare, although looking at it objectively not a large proportion of male friends (at least the one's I do have are practically all in relationships). As someone put it, we need to import eligible males into Harare from somewhere.

I guess I'm at a cross roads again on where I want to be. This is not made easy by the fact that as of yet I don't have a proper job for next year. I had an interview to teach this morning, but there aren't any immediate vacancies. I have put feelers out for other conservation/environmental work and have offered to volunteer for a project recycling things to generate incomes for HIV destitute women. I have also come up with a project with a friend to make a documentary on Harare's water crisis and wetlands. This will all keep me busy but not necessarily paid. Harare is an expensive place to live and there is no social benefit if you're unemployed.

Guess I just have to trust and keep exploring different options and be adaptable. As the interviewer this morning said, I've had a very varied career path to date. I supposed I'm looking for the main pathway now and need to cut my main career path.

Recovering a sense of abundance

Hosted our fortnightly creative group this morning and we delved into the chapter in the book "The Artist's Way" titled "Recovering a sense of abundance". It challenges me to give myself more time to do creative things. It is so easy to let work take over completely and to feel guilty when not working. Like others in the group I also need to get a balance. Tomorrow I have an invitation to go see the headmaster of one of the high schools in Harare possibly for a job teaching there. Am not sure if they have an actual vacancy or if it is just to discuss possibilities. I am trying to see if I can get anywhere with some other links to try stay in the environmental side. I don't know that I want to necessarily teach full time as I have mentioned before. I've still got to decide what I really want to do but the meeting this week on Harare's water crisis has reminded me that wetlands and water issues are really my passion. The issue of lack of water provision in Harare is a major problem and is something I would like to work on.

Went to visit my friend in hospital again today. It is the same clinic I've been admitted to once when I took an overdose of my sleeping tablets. I can't really remember much or how I got to the clinic after I took the tablets. I remember feeling helpless and thinking that taking my tablets all at one go was a way out. I can't recall much from after that. My Mum says I was ill on the way to the clinic and luckily got rid of all the pills that way. I just remember eventually waking up the next morning in a hospital.

That was the last time I've seriously tried to commit suicide. With the stress from my job recently I have had the odd fleeting contemplation when it all seemed overwhelming. The responsibility of my different commitments has prevented me and the thought of what it would do to my Mum. I eventually have managed to separate myself a bit from my work stress and to take a step back and see getting that stressed is just not worth it. I need things to be responsible for but they can weigh me down. It does make me put ending it all at bay though and make me consider things more.

With the chapter on recovering abundance, we discussed balancing work with play and use of time. I really need structure to my day and a reason to get up in the morning. Even if I have loads of time to possibly be creative I need to have a purpose for doing it and it needs to be for a given time. I haven't had time to paint as much as I'd like to. Getting a bit more time to do so is going to need a bit of work to keep me in balance and to give me an income. Still got to work this all out.

I remember ...

Clearing up my former bedroom of its paraphernalia I am reminded of different times of my life. More recently, the paintings I did whilst in hospital with severe depression in Switzerland. Some of the art looks slightly trippy with swirls of iridescent colour, similar to the disarray of chemicals in my mind. Others are starkly devoid of colour, reflecting the raw aching pain within that simply would not leave. Many show my indecision of whether to stay in Switzerland or return to Zimbabwe and the uncertainty I faced regarding Zimbabwe’s future and my return.

Dusting off my insect collection from when I took the entomology course in Cape Town, I am transported away to happier days, running around campus and in the Cedarburg with a butterfly net bug hunting. There is the elusive spider wasp, with its cellophane-like wings, then the punk-like disco-ball beetles, with their tufts of yellow or orange hairs on their carapace. Those were Elysian Fields for my soul and was a time when I was content with life.

I remember sitting in the chapel at school, trying to make sense of the fact that Lisa was gone. Paging through a nun’s bible and hymn book, looking for an answer, for solace, for reason. I did not find it that day. The song The Rose always takes me back to that day and your funeral as Chenai sang it to you and to our aching souls. Jacaranda season is another reminder. I imagine Lisa walking along the purple carpeted path through the playground and out the Herbert Chitepo Street Gate, where it is said she hailed a taxi to take her home to where she shot herself dead.

Music memoirs from a little while back

The local documentary club happens bi-monthly at The Queen of Hearts Coffee Shop in Harare. A group of upcoming professionals both young and older assemble and enjoy and evening of film viewing accompanied by a complementary cappuccino and if you pay an extra $5, a bowl of soup. Last night the film was on the Sound City Recording Studio in Los Angeles. A number of prominent bands had recorded hits there in its hey day and it had a state of the art mixing desk. It was an entertaining soirèe.

It did bring back memories though of my Father, and times from my childhood when my Sister and I had to sit patiently in the lobby or by the recording desk as my Father pursued his music career. I remember the mixed  bag of musicians who would wander in and out of my Father’s house and my Dad’s music room which was mostly out of bounds. Despite being a gifted musician, my Father never took time to teach my Sister or I how to play an instrument and we had to fit into his life and around his recording time. The only time he had use for us in his music was for a music video, in which my Sister and I were dressed in rags and made to sit outside a hut near the Domboshawa Area.

The music video was partly following the story of my Grandfather, and how born out of an extra-marital affair or possibly rape, he was raised by his African Mother in possibly squalid conditions. At the age of seven he set out from Penalonga along the road to Harare, in search of his Father. He slept in public toilets at night along the way but eventually located his Greek Father in the big metropolis of Harare. His Father, less than thrilled to see his illegitimate son, hastily enrolled him at a boarding school designated for coloured children. This and other disappointments and disownership made my Grandfather eventually want nothing more to do with his Father and ultimately caused him to change his surname from Zambellis to the made up name of Lannas.

The poor father-child relationship seems to have been passed down through the generations and my Father did not fulfill his obligations as a father willingly either. With his involvement in the music industry came other women who eventually replaced my Mother, and my Father dabbled in illegal substance abuse at times. His already volatile moods became more erratic and his artistic temperament could flare up with minimal provocation. The weekends we were to see him could be cancelled at a moment’s notice due to a gig taking precedence and my Sister and I had to adapt to the many women that floated in and out of my Father’s life.

People in Zim still remember my Father and his band “Talking Drum” even though it is many years now since my Father left for England. At the supermarket cashiers will sometimes look at my Spar shopping card and ask if I am any relation to my Father. On conceding to being his daughter I am then asked if he is still making music to which I invariably reply I haven’t a clue, which is the truth. A few years ago my Father reconnected with my Sister but he has extended no effort to try to contact me. In many ways I am happy it is this way but it does sting at the same time that I am not. 

How far I've come

A friend of mine who also suffers from bipolar depression has been re-admitted to hospital again. My heart goes out to her as I have been there and have recently felt the twinges of not coping and feeling life is just too hard. I hope I can be the friend to her that she has been to me and I can help her climb back up from the pit of despair. How much one is able to do this for someone else and how much they themselves have to overcome is hard to tell. I know in my own experience it helped to know I wasn't alone and friends who had depression themselves were the easiest to be with as you knew they had been where you were and wouldn't judge you. Each person's struggles though are different and even having bipolar doesn't make you privy to all that the other person experiences or what is causing their sense of worthlessness or self-hate.

Today as well an acquaintance at church who seems to also have mental health challenges said they didn't feel they needed to take medication. I admit that yesterday I had forgotten to take mine and the thought of just not taking it does sometimes go through my mind. I guess I see though that if I mess up my brain chemistry by just suddenly going cold turkey I'm going to do more harm and set myself further back. It therefore doesn't become a major stumbling block for me. I don't know this other person's history or condition but was trying to say that if they needed to be on meds they should try stay on them.

The thought of having a major bout of depression again or worse a psychotic episode does perturb me. I also don't know yet how I will cope one day without my Mum. That does scare me as I still am semi-dependent not only financially but for support on her. I know I once was an independent person and I was able to cope. Life in Zim seems harder some how and I think not having a full time, decent paying job doesn't help. I'm still thrashing out what I really want to do. The more artistic, creative side of me is feeling it wants to be used more but just how and how to make a living out of it is the question. Writing appeals, I am going to try maybe see if any local magazines or newspapers want articles.

Well that's my day's musings. Will be more soon no doubt.

Taking flight

In trying to decide on what it is I really really actually want to do, I find my mind is flighty and I have idealistic ideas of things. The nuts and bolts of it is I need to find something, not necessarily my dream but hopefully something I enjoy. When I peruse job adverts though I find myself snobbish and that most of the jobs advertised don't live up to my expectations. I recently saw a post on the internet suggesting that my generation finds it hard to find a job that makes them happy and that we have grandiose ideals of who we are and what we deserve in life. Whilst it was in a way over board and verging on the comic, it did have grains of truth in it that I could semi-relate to.

article -

Why Generation Y Yuppies Are Unhappy

I'm finding myself repeatedly questioning what I truly want out of life and what job would be what I really would find fulfilling. The life I have been living for the last couple of years has been doing odd jobs but the variation has been stimulating. I think I will struggle to find a single job that will allow me to be scientific and creative at the same time and which will give me complete satisfaction. Must I settle for less though and can I afford to be so choosey? That's the big question for me that remains to be answered, hopefully out of choice and not necessity.

Onwards and upwards I say ...

Well I haven't been on for a little while as, as I mentioned in the previous posts, I no longer have my current job after the end of this year. In many different ways it is a big relief as to be honest I wasn't really enjoying it of late. If I could have been doing fieldwork I think it might have felt it was more rewarding but I never managed to get to the field. Instead I have been cooped up indoors battling through statistics and been a hermit because of it. Statistics has been very stressful and I am very dubious of the p-values which convey the ever sought after deeming of significance. It is very easy to get a different result but science lauds the p-value and it's supposed truth a little too greatly.

I am therefore at a cross-roads again though job-wise. This is a bit unsettling and I have got anxious over it. I am putting my CV out to local schools to maybe teach next year. So far no takers but they have agreed to maybe have me down as a relief teacher for subbing if needed. I will probably have to tutor more to increase my income in the meantime. Am trusting for better things.

Having signed up for an online course on creative writing and story telling, I wish to pursue this a little more as I enjoy writing. At some point I want to try write a full tale of my illness and battles with depression. It would be cathartic and might help others, I don't know.

Depression and the threat of it's return do hinder me in my job search as I know I can't take on high stress again - I just don't cope well. Working by correspondence does give me grace for days when I wake up to downs and struggle. A full-time job would not be so accommodating but in a way structure would be good for me. Also I enjoy interacting with people to an extent and being cooped up at home working is not always good for me. We'll see.

In the meantime I need to finish off the dratted data analysis, so back to work!

Back to square one

The job I have been doing has been stressful of late and I haven't been entirely happy with a number of things. Today I received an email saying that the organisation can no longer afford to keep me on. In a way this is a welcome release and means I can look for something else. It does mean however that I will be without a major source of income and I need to urgently find something in order to survive financially. I may have to just suck it up and put in to teach. Not sure how easy it's going to be to find teaching jobs though as most schools seem to have their full quota of teachers.

In the meantime I luckily have some consulting work to tide me over. I am facing a conflict in personal and work interests though in the jobs I have to do as they involve wetlands and proposals to build over them which goes against my fundamental opinion. Will have to try find a way round this and do what I can to protect the wetlands.

It is a bit scary suddenly not having a source of income again as work is very scarce in Zim and there is no social security to fall back on. I am exploring what avenues I can and trusting that there is something else out there.

Support network

With my depression I have often felt terribly alone and isolated. I find it hard to put into words my feelings and I don't often want to burden others or go on about negative things. I therefore tend to keep an awful lot internalised and only rarely when prodded tell others (mostly my therapist and psychologist). My chief "carer" or care giver is my Mum. Since the time when I broke down in Switzerland she has been there and has walked with me. I had a very good friend from my church in Switzerland who also helped me in my dark moments there and whom I still am in contact with. To both I owe an awful lot and in some ways without them I might have actually committed suicide by now.

My relationship with my Mum though is not easy. There are things I can't tell her and when I am low I don't really vocalise to her what is wrong. She has to sort of work round it but often misinterprets what my silences mean. She has also not fully come to terms with me having depression and will try to pin my downs to other things. The complications with my poor relationship with my Sister interweaves into this. My Mum always defends my Sister and it feels like she always takes her side. If my Mum doesn't accept my illness at times, my Sister absolutely shuns it, taking a very religious view that depression is of and from the devil. We do not see eye to eye on many things. This makes the return of my Sister every year from varsity a difficult period and it almost always has some form of fall out. My frustrations with this sometimes lead me to become very angry and at times even more isolated as it feels as if my Sister and my Mum become a unit and I am not a part of it. Living altogether is not a healthy environment and I am going to have to find some sort of solution should my Sister return to live in Zim.

At times I am now coping well and can be more independent. When I take a dip though I really need people to be there for me and I rely on my Mum heavily. It scares me a little to think how I would cope if my Mum died. I don't quite know yet how I would. Currently I am not only dependent on my Mum for emotional support, but am also beholden to her financially as I don't earn enough to fully support myself. I am trying to take on more work but it is a delicate tight rope, as when I get under a lot of pressure I crumble and feel I can't cope. I am trying to push my pressure limits little by little though and try to press on to regain my ability to work well under a healthy level of pressure and stress.

Being in Zim

I started reading the book "The Last Resort" last night. It kicks off with the farm invasions and murder of white farmers in 2000. Gosh that seems like a different life time ago and thinking back to the days of fuel shortages and lack of even the most basic commodities feels like we're talking about a different Zimbabwe to the one I am currently living in right now. Things have changed in many ways but I guess some of the underlying things are the same.

My writing group is starting again apparently so I have started a separate blog on life in Zim and coming home (http://wp.me/402gN if you're interested). I really would like to write more. I find it far easier to type away than I do to sit down and analyse statistics! Think I may have missed my calling somewhere along the line. There is a free online course from a university in Potsdam that I have signed up for on creative writing and story telling. I really would like to go into writing more and maybe try writing stories or, if I could try, a book maybe. We'll see. Feel a bit excited by the idea though and it is something that does appeal to me.

I would really like a more formal job that pays. I have been opting to go into school with my Mum as we have been having bad power outtages at home as the national electricity supplier ZESA keeps havign prolonged load shedding. This has been very frustrating and particularly bad again since elections. At school I work in the staff room. It does at least mean I see more people than I would sitting at home, but I do feel kind of spare part-ish and like I shouldn't really be here. I do at least sub from time to time at the school when needed so can semi-justify being here that way. The school does have lovely grounds and I love walking through them smelling the iceberg roses and observing the flambouyant peacocks fan their tails. I don't think I'd like teaching full time but if I had to, an international school would be what would appeal most. But being a teacher is not my first choice career wise as I feel I would very quickly feel like I was back at school too. Will see. If other work doesn't open up I may have to consider teaching full time as it is job security and a slightly better paid income.

I think part of my aversion to becoming a teacher is that teaching takes over my Mum's life. Earlier I said my Dad is a workaholic, well the same is true of my Mum. From early on we used to have to spend hours and hours waiting at school for my Mum and get home late as she would still be working and might have even stayed on working if it were not for the fact that security wanted to lock up. We used to have to go back to school with her even in the school holidays. Part of it was her never ending attempt to tidy up her classroom, but it was also often when she gave extra lessons to help towards paying the bills. School seemed to overrule our lives and still does. We seem to have always spent more time at school than at home. In a way it has felt like my Mum stays away from home to avoid having to deal with life issues there.

Morning pages

I wrote the following this morning at the creative arts group I belong to, which is currently working through the book "The Artist's Way". We had been told to collect images of things that we dream of and make an image file. From my pictures I wrote the following:

National Geographic attracted me and its images of photography, conservation and travel. This is what I dream of doing. A first step would be to get a decent camera to play with. Over the past week the idea of doing photo-journalism has become more and more appealing. I'd like to tell stories with photos and bring in an environmental element.

I'd like to go to remote, beautiful places but not for long lonely periods. I'd like to travel with work and see new places and really experience them. I'd like to meet new and interesting people along the way. I also taking a new delight in gardening with the breaking forth of summer. All the colours and bird song inspire me. I hope to make our garden at home more textured and interesting, particularly with succulents to conserve water. I love the different hues of the jacarandas, the pride of India and the roses though, even if they are all exotics.

Last night's home group discussion challenged me. We started a series on making and becoming disciples and we are following the Multiply literature on this. http://www.multiplymovement.com/ It scared me a little and made me realise I just call myself a Christian, but I'm not sure if I really follow Christ and if His ways are my ways. I get depressed and when I do I turn from faith and become super critical. I haven't been reading my bible for a while and have been in a dry and semi-dark place. This place doesn't see the point to life and what I'm supposed to do. Hopefully with this new challenge of what it really means to be a Christian and a re-think on what God's plan is for me, I will find a new purpose and grow. It will show me there is more to me being here than I think, and create a role and objectives for me to achieve.

The fact that I'm supposed to not only be a disciple, but also make disciples is a scary thought though.

'Yet I still belong to You; You hold my right hand. You guide me with Your counsel, leading me to a glorious destiny.'

This was today's bible verse I was sent (Psalm 73:23-24) and I guess my faith is something that helps to give purpose to life. Without it there really would be no point to anything. It is not easy though and I still don't see the big picture (does anyone?) It does give a reason for why I'm here and I hope that there is something specific I'm supposed to achieve. Success has been something I've grappled with for a long time. From an early age I was compelled to succeed and do well. I managed to get good grades at school and do well in my extramural activities. I did well when I went to university and won scholarships and bursaries. My first major failure was when I crumbled under my work load from my PhD and had to quit. I had never failed like that before and I am still not 100% over it. My fellow student doing a PhD alongside mine has just graduated and it is a reminder that I too could have been graduating now with a PhD if I had not had my cataclysmic collapse. There is always in the back of my mind the "what if" and "why".

With a friend of mine who also has bipolar depression I often joke about being the "crazy" ones. It is now semi accepted that bipolar is a condition that more people than your realize have. What is not so easy is the acceptance of someone who also can experience psychosis, which is what I have had at times. Since my massive melt down in Switzerland and my first return to Zimbabwe, I haven't really had any further bouts of psychosis since my medication has changed. It still scares me though that there is a possibility it could happen again and I will be left without a grasp of reality once more and really be "mad". I joke about the bipolar but madness and being crazy is a slightly more sensitive area for me and is something I feel vulnerable to. I don't think people accept really "crazy" people as readily and I have not really told people about my psychotic states or that I experience them. I feel they would not know how to deal with that and might judge me if they thought I was really crazy.

My Mum often tries to down play my depression and I'm not sure she has fully accepted that I have bipolar depression and that it is a condition. She knew my Dad was a "manic" depressive but in my case she puts a lot of what happened in Switzerland down to stress from a skiing accident. The skiing accident whilst scary was not the main cause of what happened subsequently. I had had depression prior to that and had been suicidal even when in Cape Town but had never told anyone. I had seen a doctor in Cape Town who had intimated that perhaps I needed psychological help but that was as far as I had gone and had never been fully diagnosed. Although Switzerland was a nightmare it at least led me to finally being medicated and set me on the path towards a more "normal" life. I guess that is one success that did come out of what in other ways was a massive failure.

 

Musings

I am feeling a bit disenchanted with statistics and disillusioned at how easy it is to change them and yet science places so much stock in them. I am feeling a pull towards the arts at the moment and less of an affinity to science. Today with my therapist I talked about how I make decisions and what guides me. A friend in Switzerland asked me a week ago to describe what kind of boat or ship I see myself as. She said, "If you like, you can write a few sentence and the title of the story is "I am a boat". I can't explain you more for the moment, but will give you after that some keys which you will understand (and I probably not, because it is your story)."

In response I wrote: If I were a boat I think I would be a little rowing boat, not a new flashy one but an older weather beaten one with the pain peeling but still used. I would be used for rowing on a lake and can fit about 6 people in it. At times people like to just sit in it and enjoy the view.

My friend's interpretation of what I wrote was this:

Rowing boat, that means, that it is by your own strength that you make things move. (Sailing boat means to be moved by circumstances, influence from outside). You are a "just do it" person. You decide it, you do it.

You think, you are a little rowing boat... but 6 people can fit in it - that means not that little. 

Do this people help to row or what are they doing?

Seems you like to work / undertake things in groups of about 6 people. You are relational.

Important that you not only row, but take time to just sit and enjoy the view - and if possible with friends. 

That's a beautiful work life balance. :-)

You are not new flashy, but life has been left it's marks... BUT you are still useful for what it was made for :-)

And the boat is in the lake, which is appropriate to it's size. So it does well know it's limits. 

I think you are a very beautiful boat and I can see your heart in it.

Other questions could be:

- When is this boat the most happy?

- Whom does this boat fear?

- Who fears that boat?

and as a final question:

Do I need to change something on my boat? And if so what? - And what does this mean for my own life?

 

Can you see a little bit of you in this? And for work it is good for you to know, that you can work independently, even though you love being in a group of approx 6 people. You are useful (want to have a purpose, not just look good). Important to have the balance between roawing (work) and relaxing and enjoying the view. Lake might stand for national (? I don't know about that one)

 

It is funny that she sees that as a rowing boat I decide where I am going. A lot of the time it doesn't feel like I do but I guess I take a long time over decisions when the decision is in my hands and I like to feel that I'm in control. With my relationship with my Mum and living back home again I don't feel like I'm neccessarily the one making the decisions. Also with work I don't always feel I'm doing what I really want to be. However some of my life choices have led me to where I am currently. I am not sure if I can make that many changes to my circumstances. The biggest way to change would be to leave Zim again. This is an option I always play with but whether it will happen is the question and whether it will be my own decision and my own choice is the question. My support network is strong here but in some ways for different things it feels my choices and opportunities here are limited.

 

Deciding what I really really want to do is a big issue. I may try go see a life coach and see her insights into what I'm best suited to doing. The problem is finding the job that meets my expectations, passions, qualifications and which at the end of the day gives me a liveable income, fulfillment and that I can get up for everyday feeling motivated for. Guess I have high expectations and am fussy.

 

“Weeds are flowers, too, once you get to know them.” ~A.A. Milne

My moods are greatly affected by the weather, this morning it was warm, bright and sunny and I felt an optimism and I felt alive with the spring time. I have just ventured out again and it has turned overcast and looks like it is building for a storm. Almost in reflection to this I am feeling unsettled from work and pressured from many sources. I wish my job could be more outdoors instead of sitting in front of a computer. I am lucky in that the various jobs I do are flexi and as I am not employed full time I am the master of how I use my time and when I take breaks. This is a blessing and a curse. In some ways I wish I had the structure of a full time single job. I would also like to have work colleagues I could interact with and bounce ideas off for challenges. Full time work though would not give me the liberty I have to go have coffee with someone if I want to or do some painting or writing when I feel the urge.

Work is hard to come by these days and I must be grateful I have some work. I do question at times though if it is really what I want to be doing. My Mum loves teaching and it is her life. It has been her life for as long as I remember and at times it takes over the rest of hers and my lives. When I was little she ran a preschool from home. At times I would get jealous as the other kids got so much of her attention and at the end of the day when I felt it was "my" time and her attention could finally be focused on me she was often tired and grumpy. Being the eldest child I think I was put out when my younger Sister came along and I had to share my Mum with her. My Dad once said to me that I was not a nice child until my Sister came along which has stuck and stung for many years and also increased my resentment towards my Sister.

I think the day my Sister was born is a memory that has also churned and burned within me for a very long time. I remember my Mum going off (to the hospital it turned out to have my Sister, but this was not explained to me). All the other kids in the play school were collected and it started to get dark but my Mum didn't come home. I went up to the room where the domestic help Mary stayed on our property. She didn't really say where my Mum was or what was going on. Eventually, very late in the evening my Dad came home and he too didn't really explain. My Parents' marriage at that point was already headed for disaster and so my whole world with my Mum felt threatened.

Part of me also is resentful that my Sister does not remember as much of my Parents' divorce and the fights and tension that went with it as I do. I always had to be the brave one, the one who didn't cry and the one who said it was all going to be alright. I had to be the one who had to pretend everything was normal and be there for my Mum. It was always me that my Mum would off burden to and it is always me who has to be the one who has to help contribute financially when we get into a predicament. I hate being the older sister and the one who is supposed to be grown up and deal with problems.

My Dad used to always push me to achieve in school and it used to feel like nothing I did was ever good enough. The ghost of my Dad still taunts me at times and drives me to be a perfectionist and feel what I have done is still not up to scratch. It is a ghost that is not laid to rest easily and I often feel I have to prove myself and go beyond what everyone else is doing. I think I inherited my Dad's tendency to be a workaholic and I definitely get my manic and depressive moods from him. There are traits I get from my Mum though too such as not addressing problems and covering them up.