A year in review

Not the best year ever!

It's inevitable at this time of year that we look back on the past year. A bit of contemplation in the rear window is rarely a bad thing - as long as your look doesn't become a stare. Looking back helps us to look forward.

It's not been a good year by any measure. Probably the hardest of my life. As I mentioned in a previous blog, we've had 8 funerals in 14 months, including those of my beloved Mother, my dear brother-in-law and several very close friends and a young man that we regarded as our own son. It takes its toll eventually and it can be hard to repress the selfish emotions of "haven't we taken enough punches recently". I guess everyone has been through the pain of loss and grief and the older I get, the more I realise that the pain never actually goes away - it just gets less sharp with time. But I guess that's exactly the way it should be because the emotional pain reminds us how much we loved the person we have lost and how much we cherished the nature of the relationship we had with them.

Grief is good...

If the pain reminds us how much we loved the person we have lost, then surely it should also bring to mind the strength of the love we had for that person? That, in itself, is a good thing. As this year got progressively worse with each painful bereavement, I became increasingly depressed. But now, I choose - and it is a choice - to look at things from a different perspective.

I choose to remember the warmth and love that characterised those relationships. I choose to remember the wonderful times that I had with those that I have lost. I choose to remember their smiling faces lit up with laughter, rather than remember them in their coffins or how they looked before they passed. So now, as the pain subsides a little, I can reflect with happiness and joy when I think of those who have died. At least I had the inestimable good fortune and privilege to spend as much time with them as I did - it brought so much happiness and love into my life that I would not otherwise have had if I had not met or known them. I am blessed to have had their company on my journey.

It does not change the fact that I miss them more than I can possibly describe in these pages. Nor does it guarantee that I won't occasionally shed a tear when something happens to pop their memory into my head. But perspective does allow me to replace some sadness with happiness - and that must be a good thing.

...and depression is natural

I find it astonishing that we still have a stigma about mental illness. There is still a perception amongst some people that depression and mental illness are somehow indications of weakness... or worse.

Well here's a stat for you - 97% people will experience at least one period of depression in their lives.

I am completely open and upfront about the fact that since diagnosis, I have struggled with clinically-diagnosed depression on several occasions. Sometimes just for a short time, sometimes for weeks and months on end. I am blessed to have a magnificent support system around me which has kept my head above water, but some are not so fortunate. Using my own experience over the last 14 months as an example, it would be almost impossible - and almost not human - not to have become depressed as we went through the cycle of bereavements.

But - and here's the important bit - I was helped (by my beloved friend, confidante and counsellor) Heather to see it and recognise it for what it was - and I got help in dealing with it. You wouldn't sit there with a broken leg and not go to hospital - so why do people not address their own depression? Like the common cold and the realisation that Santa isn't real, we all get it eventually. It's not something to be ashamed of or embarrassed by. Would you be embarrassed about going to see your GP for help if you had a rash on your arm? No. So why would you feel embarrassed about consulting her/him about depression.

If anything, they would probably be impressed by your emotional maturity. In many ways this takes us all the way back to my very first blog - take control of your own health environment.

And so this is Christmas...

Never a bad idea to use John Lennon lyrics as a heading!

So - Christmas is upon us. We have all survived and hopefully thrived for another year (almost). New Year is always a difficult time for us - I had my heart attack and died twice (very briefly!) on 31st December 2016 before the wonderful ambulance people and medics at Lister Hospital revived me (no, defibrillators don't hurt). It changed my life - but I'll keep that subject for another time.

Christmas, on the other hand, is always enjoyable. It brings a warmth to both the memory and the present. It is a time for happiness and joy but please don't forget what we chatted about in Blog 6.

In the new year, I'll be blogging about looking to the future and how it brings hope. But for now, I wish you all a very happy and love-filled Christmas. Be kind to each other. Never forget to tell those closest to you that you love them - and do it often.

And I'll finish by repeating the reason for these weird blogs of mine. I started them as a way of just venting emotional stuff instead of bottling it all up. But if it helps just one single person, then I couldn't be happier. If not, it has helped me and I'm happy about that too.

Stay strong. Fight hard. Smile lots.