About

It goes on...

What is Depression?

Well, it's more involved than the half-empty or half-full philosophy. But to keep the peace with the optimists, how does one-tenth full sound?

Like many others I've been through more than my fair share of tough stuff. Grief and severe depression followed the unexpected loss of my wife and father. C. S. Lewis lost his wife to cancer too. Her passing shattered his entire world. He would never be the same. He wrote: "The act of living is different all through. Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything" (A Grief Observed). When all's said and done this level of loss and isolation can be nobody's misery but mine. I'm left with a mind that's like an unfurnished house – living there isn't easy.

Over the last year I've heard from others who have lost themselves in grief and/or depression. Recently I received an email from a lady in California. She wrote: “I still battle with loneliness, however it seems to be lessening as I carry on under my new circumstances. I truly believe that life was meant to be shared, and that companionship, with deep abiding unconditional love, is the healthiest way to live…”

Not so long ago I was watching a recording of a prime-time US family drama the producers of our dreadful British soaps could learn a lot from. OK, it was only a fictional script, but I hit the pause button and wondered what the writer may have been through when the leading character said to his son, "Losing someone you forgot at times to appreciate when you had [her]... is just about the worst feeling in the world." How true it is.

After bereavement, regrets big and small are a common emotional response. But to have someone very special in your life and treat that wonderful fact as commonplace is nothing other than a dreadful mistake. It may never happen again. There are too many who should be much more loving, supportive and appreciative.

The absence of a long-term relationship's stability is crushing. Suddenly being unable to enjoy "the healthiest way to live" is emotionally ruinous. Nursing a tested and proven love that can never again be fulfilled or expressed can be very disturbing and even mentally damaging. The loneliness is universal. Death and divorce are common triggers for depression. For some sufferers deep depression seems like a warped mobile version of solitary confinement.

In such a state many will unavoidably focus too long on bleak aspects of life. But those who are not depressed may be blinkered: they tend to tiptoe around such unpleasantness until it's too late. We should occasionally credit depressives with seeing life's lurking ugliness more clearly than those who are well-adjusted and 'normal'.

My depression probably fits into a well-defined category that encompasses traumatic events and prolonged periods of stress. A natural lifelong tendency to sink into melancholy hasn't helped either.

If we are remarkably unfortunate (for want of a better word) we will find there is too much to deal with. Grappling continually with very trying circumstances will eventually wear most of us down. It's just a fact regardless of our approach to life. When you've been throttled over and over, you have to be realistic. No, the Glass of Life is neither half empty nor half full – it’s just the way Life is.

When Life leaves us feeling seriously down something goes wrong with chemical responses in the brain – a sort of communication problem. We've got neurotransmitters that normally keep billions of brain cells talking to one another. If something breaks down (if you'll pardon the phrase) we can get treatment that gets the chemicals busy again.

Recently I was talking to someone about random events and relentless pressure. It came to me that it was like lifting a really heavy box off the floor onto a table. Then you're told to put it back down on the floor again. Then, immediately, you have to pick it up and put it on the table. Then it has to go back on the floor. Then back on the table. It's heavy, awkward. After ten lifts you really start to feel the strain, but you're not allowed to stop. Nobody can help. After 20 lifts you ache badly. At 30 you shake with the effort. Eventually you can't do it again. It just becomes impossible. You've nothing left to give.

Imagine that in a mental context, if you need to. It's where a lot of people are, and I know some of them are working their way through dreadful situations worse than mine. Have you been there recently? No relief. No help. No change. No solutions. Nothing left inside to help you grapple with the next problem, no matter how small. It might be cleaning the sink or those simple garden tasks. Even interaction with those you love most seems too removed from where you are. There's no peace or release.

Virgil, a poet from ancient Rome, wrote, “Trust one who has gone through it.” Over the years I've noticed that few have patience for the mental disabilities of others. It's best if they have been there themselves. Then they'll appreciate the sense of helplessness.

If you see someone lying in a hospital bed with broken arms and a smashed collarbone, you'll easily connect with his painful, debilitating condition. You won't say, "Look at you lying there! What on earth's wrong with you? For goodness' sake get up! Be a man and get on with your life!" If someone's very badly broken up on the inside, in the mind where it doesn't show, he's less likely to get constructive input and the empathy he deserves.

Many people are in foul form and feel really down from time to time, frustrated by life's more typical demands. Others are truly wasted deep inside. They are very depressed. If you're not completely sure of the difference, please, be careful with your advice.

Personal Pages

In caring for the welfare of my grandparents and my father I've had considerable experience with nursing homes.

Use the links at the bottom of the page if you're interested in any of the other subjects listed.

The banner at the top of each page will take you to the homepage.

Photography Pages

I've been into amateur photography since the mid-70s. I switched to digital in 2003 mainly because it's more convenient and that suits my lifestyle. I shoot with DSLRs and advanced compacts, mainly while enjoying outdoor pursuits.

I prefer 4000 ppi scans of 35mm fine grain slow colour negative film (for 21MP images) – but I quickly learned that life's way too short.

The material here is mainly for novices and dedicated amateurs. I hope it's useful in some way. Let me know.

The Mint Below the Seat

(For Claire)

When I was small I swung my legs
And sang a silly tune.
I counted yellow ladybirds
While Nana cleaned her rooms.

When I was young I laughed and played
Below rain-darkened skies.
I never knew a sorrow borne;
I rarely wept and sighed.

I never saw cut flowers decay
In vases on the sills.
I never sensed the curse of time
That stole my games and thrills.

When I was ten each loving touch
Would ease my pain and fear.
I'd yet to sit through bedside ills
That whispered death was near.

Now older I can understand
That hardship bars my way,
That those I love may someday leave,
But I will have to stay.

Once I was young and liked to pluck
The mint below the seat,
While Granda clipped the garden hedge
And swept below my feet.

It Goes On

In the valley's warm morning air, I unexpectedly remembered someone.
An early thought before the sky was heated summer-blue,
As soft as trodden moss, gentle like the smooth arcs of mist wisps
Aimlessly down from the lake.

It goes on, and I should smile at the memory-glow,
But a lone soul, so detached and vagrant now,
Is likely to sigh and fold against the rough bark
Below cool, dark boughs.

The Me in You

You've worked your brain so hard
Your conscience leaked out through.
"I've sought the Lord about it,
"And this is what I'll do."

Necessity has forced a trip
With selfish slips and prayers amiss,
Steam-opened flesh out on a limb
Betrayed the Master with a kiss.

None dares to point the finger,
But what's that fruit on view?
Call it anything but sin—
I see the me in you.