After The Storm

It’s so good to see how much the Broken Light Collective has grown since its inception in 2012. I posted a couple of times on it waaay at the beginning, and this photograph of mine has been featured today. As you will read, my life has changed drastically in that time too, and any channels that highlight the seriousness and pervasiveness of mental illness should be applauded.

 

I called this post “After the Storm”

Broken Light Collective

Photo taken by contributor “Alice,” a 49-year-old woman living in the north of England. She has suffered with severe depressive episodes since her late teens, but only two years ago was diagnosed with Cyclothymia, a milder form of Bipolar Disorder, followed recently by an additional diagnosis of Borderline Personality Disorder. Along with her own struggles with mental health, her son, then aged 12, began physically assaulting her and has now been diagnosed with Conduct Disorder. Alice began her blog Alice Through the Macro Lens in 2012 in an effort to try to understand her journey through the mental health process and has used this forum to display some of her photography, in which she finds solace. Recently, she began a sister blog, Like a Circle in a Spiral to document the struggles of raising a child with his own difficulties.

About this photo: “It was with no small irony that I just looked back to a couple of contributions I…

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A rain poem …. (and picture)

My head is busy, noisy, struggling to find peace.
But in between bouts of madness I finally managed my own poem about rain and a photo that makes me feels reasonably calm:

Rain, rain, go away,
Come again another day.

On second thoughts, come back and stay.
Send deluge down and wash away
The tears, the fears, the rent arrears,
The given name as it appears
On credit card and banker’s draft.
Let monsoon flood the bailiffs aft.

Bring cloudburst on and, with it, hail.
Drown out the offspring’s frightened wail
That stranded, man should understand.
Then bruise the bully’s stinging hand.
Let showers pour and flush aside
The errors, wrongs, mistakes I tried.

Oh, rain, let purer rivers rise
Spite crags’ and canyons’ compromise.
Though blind I am to future ends,
Dilute the past and present cleanse.
Sweet rain, be now my closest friend
And bring this heartache to an end.

(Click on the photo for a clearer look).

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Rain and me …

I tried to write a rain poem to accompany this photo, but in the end I just couldn’t say it better than Shel Silverstein did in 1974.

I opened my eyes
And looked up at the rain,
And it dripped in my head
And flowed into my brain,
And all that I hear as I lie in my bed
Is the slishity-slosh of the rain in my head.
I step very softly,
I walk very slow,
I can’t do a handstand–
I might overflow,
So pardon the wild crazy thing I just said–
I’m just not the same since there’s rain in my head.
Shel Silverstein 1974

(Click on the picture if you want it bigger and better – I recommend it with this one!)

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

Predictable unpredictability

A Canvas of the Minds has, for the past couple of years been leading the call for the destigmatising of Mental Health issues and asking members of the blogging world to open the platform for discussion within their own forums. I did initially create “Alice Through the Macro Lens” as an outlet to try to make some sense out of my own journey through the murky fog that has been my world for many years, and more prominently to understand how my behaviours affect those closest to me. So it was a little ironic that, when things became really tough, the blog became dormant.
But I have returned with a renewed determination to continue my writing, along with the photos, and I will take the pledge asked for by the Canvas group:

“I pledge my commitment to the Blog for Mental Health 2014 Project. I will blog about mental health topics not only for myself, but for others. By displaying this badge, I show my pride, dedication, and acceptance for mental health. I use this to promote mental health education in the struggle to erase stigma.”

“The rain to the wind said,
You push and I’ll pelt.’
They so smote the garden bed
That the flowers actually knelt,
And lay lodged–though not dead.
I know how the flowers felt.”
Robert Frost

(click on the picture for a better look)

Predictable Unpredictability:

And just when I thought it was safe to re-enter the social arena with some semblance of functionality…

it happened again.

This morning, despite a terrible night’s unrest, I woke up feeling quite positive. I did the normal things people do to start their day off: Got out of bed (trust me, that’s not always an activity that comes easily!), got dressed, ate some cold, home-made rice pudding left over from last night, brushed teeth and hair, and even remembered to take the dog over the road and threw a ball for her for a while. Then I caught the bus into town and met up with a tutor at the local college who gave me a guided tour around the Art Department. The idea of spending my days creating art on a serious scale set me buzzing so much that I happily filled out the application forms to attend during the next school year.

Life felt good, and I admit a little part of me let myself believe that I was cured. I mean, I had finally managed to secure a couple of appointments with the psych (after a nine-month fight to see one). He prescribed me a new medication, and it’s now about that time when “those kind” of meds are supposed to start kicking in.
On top of that, I’d had a productive weekend. On Saturday morning, I’d attended a workshop called the “Totality of Possibilities,” and I’ve been looking into the mirror and sending myself positive affirmations ever since. Then I tried a “Life Drawing” class for the first time ever on Saturday afternoon and discovered I’m not that bad at charcoaling naked people either.
Even on Sunday, I managed to stay cogent enough to tell half of my life story to the Court-appointed psych, who has been assigned the hefty task of furnishing a legally binding opinion about what he believes went wrong with my son and me for the family court judge next month.

But today, around lunchtime, within minutes of arriving at one of my “safer” places to visit – a drop-in community centre that I have started to attend when I just feel the need to have a cuppa, or chat, or to crochet a flower or something – my mood, without warning, dropped like a lead balloon. All of a sudden, there was no talking to me, no reasoning with me; no niceties or pleasantries could talk me round. My head became full of white noise, and I hated everyone and everything. Most of all I hated me and my life. Within the space of minutes (if not seconds), the proverbial fan was bombarded with the proverbial s–t, and I plummeted into the doldrums of irritability and blubberingness once more.

For what it’s worth, the worst thing about these ever-increasing, ever more serious episodes of unpredictable moodiness is the fact that I am sorely aware that they are happening, as they are happening – and that they are wrong – yet I feel powerless to prevent them. The best I can settle for is that, in my consciousness, I am still able to fight the searing impulses that tell me to hurl across the room any inanimate object that isn’t glued to the floor, or to take a nosedive through the nearest shop window. Instead, today, I managed (just!) to grab my coat and leave the premises without insulting anybody, before catching the bus home and falling apart as soon as I made it inside the front door.

I don’t suppose any of this bodes well for appealing my sanity. And yet there’s almost something safe, consistent maybe, in the knowledge that my unpredictability is a predictable occurrence in my life.

But don’t worry, the irony is not lost on me either.

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2014]

What a difference a day makes ….

Yesterday morning, I took the dog to the woods as usual and it was a relatively peaceful, uneventful experience. The stream was a sparkling trickle and the pond was a sheet of glass.

And then, yesterday evening, it rained.

And it thundered and lightninged, and the storm knocked out the satellite signals and frightened the animals.

It rained so hard and so fast that the gulleys couldn’t hold the sudden mass of water and some of the streets began to flood.

And my pond and my stream in the woods weren’t so peaceful anymore.

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Bug-a-day #34 – after the rain

It has rained for two straight days here in most parts of England, and there has been little respite from the cold and the wet.

However, this evening – just before the sun went down – the rain let off for a few minutes, allowing most dog owners to give their pets a small window of opportunity to relieve themselves.

While I was out there, I noticed some very interesting raindrop patterns on the plants, so I went back in and retrieved my camera.

I noticed a few Ladybirds and tried to capture them, but the light was too dull for a clear picture without a tripod. And then I remembered my camera has a flash – something I haven’t used since I bought it!  Not the easiest thing to use with a macro in dim light, but it showed some great soggy insects.

So, while I said I wouldn’t portray the same bug more than once for this challenge, I think I can be forgiven for revisiting some very wet versions of Ladybirds and (I think) a Hoverfly.

Click on the images for clearer views.

 

 

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Stuff on my Window Sill ….

It is absolutely chucking it down with rain today, my car is knackered, and I am content to stay in the house in my dressing gown and slippers.

So in the absence of any walks through the forest, or around the castle, or over to the reservoir, I busied my photographic mind with pictures of what is on my kitchen window sill. Yes, I know the geraniums should have been planted outside by this time of year – but …. oh well, no excuse.

I realise I’m starting to be recognised as the “Bug Lady,” and I just wanted to remind myself that I do have other interests 🙂

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]

Bug-a-day #11

Well, I don’t know about your part of the world, wherever you may be, but it’s been piddling down with rain in my neck of the woods all day.  But it did ease off just after dinner this evening, so I took the dog for a quick walk before the light disappeared completely.

I had taken the camera just in case – but there was little to experience, except a lot of soggy, closed flowers, a few very damp toadstools, and a great deal of very slippery mud (as evidenced by the state of my backside when I got home…).

And what’s more, there were no insects or buggy creatures of any type, except for slugs, which I didn’t feel like taking pictures of right now.

So I snapped a few shots of raindrops dripping from the tips of leaves (as you do… ) and a couple of sad looking mushrooms, and headed home.

But – as the saying goes – never say never …. Look what I found shivering next to one of the above mentioned raindrops!

“What is it?”  I hear you say.

“I haven’t a clue,”  say I.  “But it’s a Bug.”

And, therefore, I present you with Bug-a-day number 11.  Tadah!

© Alice through the Macro Lens [2012]