wendy house

I’ve been never knowingly suffered from depression. I don’t know what it’s like. I’ve listened to people who are probably suffering from depression, taking their calls to helplines.

I’ve listened to their long silences.  There’s something peaceful and reassuring in sharing a long silence over the phone. I’ve heard their curiously monotone voices. I’ve listened to them repeatedly describe their situation as-if they’ve forgotten what they said before their last silence. A brief auditory glimpse into what may be depression.

Scary Duck pointed out this blog post: http://hyperboleandahalf.blogspot.co.uk/2013/05/depression-part-two.html

Allie’s story captured my attention, held it with wit and comic engaging sketches. It’s helped give me an insight into one way of experiencing depression. I’ll be following Allie’s writing from now on, once I work out how to replace my google reader….

Names on below the Maiwand lion in Reading town’s Forbury Gardens.

The lion commemorates the deaths of 329 men from the 66th Berkshire Regiment during the campaign in Afghanistan between 1878 and 1880

Appealing to men

who like men

who look like women

looking like men

Attempting to conform to current femininity fashions such as displaying large breasts is both

• expensive – financially and emotionally
• dangerous for your health – mentally and physically

The UK for-profit organisation that supplied most of the PIP breast enlargement implants (made from industrial grade silicon) does not have the resources to rectify it’s mistake by removing the 14,000 implants and ‘reconstructing’ the deformed breasts. The NHS will not remove implants until after they have malfunctioned. That means that they will wait until the woman is injured before they will take safety surgery – they will not repair, they will just remove the leaking implant.

The mainstream media covers this from a ‘faulty goods’ supplied perspective, acknowledging that the recipients of PIP implants are experiencing distress and pain and that PIP was naughty for breaking the law and not using medical grade silicon. None of the mainstream media I’ve found has dared to comment on the socio-cultural environment that first drove these women to choose the physical pain and risk of major surgery to change thier bodies. This is a critical causal precursor for the existence of an industry that makes money out of mutilating women, a critical part of the story. Removing this industry would remove the possibility of faulty goods in the first place  – remove the pain and the risk.

Meanwhile, the internet provides alternative news style stories, for example, The London Feminist refers to the illegal practices of the Harley Medical group and how they explicitly leverage (illegal) advertising to promote their for-profit services. It’s good to find intelligent, well researched, alternative news stories but sad that feminist perspectives rarely seep into mainstream media storylines

Today this tragedy, one of many perpetuated against women, leaves me feeling:

• Sadness for, and anger on behalf of, the many women around the world who were given PIP implants in their attempt to conform with current fashion.
• Relief that I chose to accept the lesser risk of ongoing abuse for not aspiring to conform to femininity fashions
• Guilt that I am surviving without the fashion trappings of femininity when others are suffering more than I….

The sound of the phone ringing gradually woke me.   Nearly 6am (Pacific coast time), only UK friends would call me at this unearthly  time in the morning.   Sleepily I reached for the phone and pulled it to my ear only to hear the dial-tone.   Who-ever called had hung-up.   I never found out who called.   Awake I decided to get up and make myself a cup of tea,   to enjoy the sunny morning before setting out for work.

In my doziness I stubbed my toe on the half-packed suitcase,  preparing for my planned sailing holiday in Greece.   Scheduled to fly out on September 16th I was looking forward to a club holiday with English friends I hadn’t seen for a long time, a reunion vacation.

I put the kettle and  TV on.   The sound of emergency services,  the stressful pitch of the voices, the urgency and drama was clear before I’d even realised what I was seeing.   I watched as flight 175 hit the South Tower.   I cried.

Nearly 3  hours later at work, not much work being done, by anyone.   Many people just didn’t turn up,   those who did were phoning relatives and friends,  trying to reassure themselves that the people they knew who worked in the World Trade centre were ok. Everyone seemed to know someone who worked in the towers or lived nearby. The general sense of anxiety mixed with silence lasted all day and soaked into the future.

All flights in the US airspace were grounded. I never joined my friends in Greece, a small loss in the whole scheme of things. My parents, in Italy, had nowhere to stay because American tourists, unable to get home, were staying in the hotel rooms  my parents had  booked

That day changed my world

In my dream I was  still living with the *anker  that I actually  left in 2000 after years of building up the pluck to walk out.   Tight black leather jeans, tears bullying,   and that was just his his contribution to the dream, mine was even more icky.   I fell over several times at a cricket match during the game.   Most embaressing.  

Godley and Creme sang Under your thumb

Prefab Sprout put their finger on a fundamental truth when they pointed out that some things hurt much more than cars and girls. Cars and girls have been kind to me so far, some things have been less forgiving, for example Dentists, Ski Lifts and Curb Stones

Prefab Sprout sang Cars and Girls

Mumzie:    come next door with me,   to feed the goldfish

Wendy:  yes please,   how is she?

Mumzie: she died last week.  

Her children thought they’d inherit the house,  were planning to move in.   They would have been good neighbours.   But she had a  reverse mortgage which means the bank owns the house and is selling it.

• Human or computer?   Can a computers intellignce make it indistinguishable from a  human by another  human?     Turing test
• Hererosexual or gay?   Can a gay persons behavior make them indistinguishable from a  heteresexual to the UK law?   Turing failed this test

The UK prime minister apologises to the now deceased Alan Turing for the government removing his security clearance and hence his job when Alan was found guilty of being gay.   Reprogramming involved chemical castration,   Alan committed suicide.

This morning BBC Radio 4  appeared to focus  on the

• Prime Minister’s apology to Alan
• broadening of police record checks for people that have regular or intense contact with children
• Afghanistan election irregularities

September 11th 2001 was mentioned, a brief comment on the lack of progress in redeveloping the site of the former Twin Towers.

Matrix starts chasing her tail.    She has never chased her tail before. I stop making the bed to watch her playfulness,   she is bearing her teeth and growling.   She falls over, her bowels open and her body twitches wildly.   After  less than a  minute she stops convulsing and lies still.   I pick her up and carry her to a warm soft bed on the floor by the phone while I call the emergency vet.   Matrix and I cry as I dial.    

While  the vet questions me. Matrix stops crying and starts to walk around.   Yes her breathing is normal,   yes her movement is normal.   She’s not dragging her back legs.   Her pupils are no longer dilated.   The vet advises me to keep her warm,   let her eat and drink and  watch her closely for an hour.   The vet says it is fairly common for aging cats to have seizures.

I called mumzie.   “Oh yes dear,   Jason had a seizure while he was sleeping,   about 4 years before he died.    He hardly noticed it,  I did because he emptied his bowels all over our nice new sofa, what a mess”

Peacefully, Matrix watched while I cleaned the mess.

Today I’m  catless, carless,  surrounded by dissembled furniture and half packed suitcases.  

Goodbye blubbing by me and soulful wailing  by Sampo.   Matrix looked her normal relaxed self.

Matrix and Sampo can’t join me in the UK until the last 4 months of their  PETS passport process,    6 months quarantine,  is finished.    Today they moved to their  US  foster home.  

a not-Wendy person once said to me:  

“it should be ok to cry at work“

After I’d picked myself up off the floor and tended to my pending bruises (I’m prone to falling over).   I considered that I’m also prone to blubbing.  

I cried when they shot JR even though  Dallas wasn’t a believable TV series,   the acting was atrocious,  and I didn’t even like JR.   I can often be heard sniffling my way through a film (The Hours, Capote).

But crying at work,   because of work related thingies?    With some notable exceptions, for example Hospice work,    

I’d really rather it didn’t happen

Examples of why crying at work does not get the (wet) blanket, or wet hankerchief,  Wendy seal of approval:

• the wetness can ruin the key-connections on your keyboard and make typing coherent sentences virtually impossible.
• crying and talking is a bit of a challenge.   This means other people  can’t understand a word you say while you are crying.  
• the vast majority of work situations should not prompt tears.   No-one,  or situation,  should have the right or the power to prompt crying at work.

Behind closed doors,  in car parks, and sometimes in bars after work  I’ve listened to people cry about work situations.    Normally the crier  is female and describes what I consider to be bullying or in my more cynical moments,  out-and-out sexism.  

Naturally,   an opinionated Wendy believes that the answer isn’t to legitimise the symptoms of bullying (victim crying),   it is to  remove the cause (behaviour experienced as bullying).   The person who feels like crying has the  responsibility of identifying the cause and  confronting the cause directly or using appropriate ‘personnel’ services to seek advice.  

Asking an opinionated Wendy really isn’t a good idea because the crying might just get all contageious,   twice the short-circuited keyboards and twice the unintelligable conversations, twice the tea consumption level.   Really,   that just wont do, now, will it?

Lets cut the reasons for crying at work  

my world traveller friend is moving to NY this weekend.   In the 6 years I’ve known her she’s lived in:

• Seattle
• China
• Madrid (Spain)
• A private yaught (Alaska, Mexico, the Pacific coast)
• Ellensburgh (urgh?!!!)

She’s a special friend.   We met during my first week in Seattle at a pub quiz.   Hardly knowing each other arranged to runaway to  Mardi Gras, a  weekend in New Orleans.  

Travelling separately.   I sat on the porch of our 2 star hotel with a bottle of wine I’d corked by forcing the cork into the bottle.   In the heat of the evening I drank the wine and waited for the stranger,   my room companion,   to turn up.   An asian guy arrived at midnight.   The hotel staff had gone home.   He’d booked a room,  had no-where else to stay.  World traveller  turned up with a tiny back-pack and all the enthusiasm of a toddler.   Of course she didnt mind him staying in our room.   We looked after him for a a couple of days,  expored the city,   had our fortunes read,   met strangers and lived stories that warrant thier own blog entries.    She’s so easy to be with,   so bright in many ways.   I’ll miss her presence in this State painfully because friends like her are rare.   Friends like her  are usually somewhere else.   My friends are usually somewhere else….    I’m not often a soppy bugger, but for tonight  there will be BIG

BLUBBING

in the Wendy house this weekend.   Actually there will be blubbing in a sleeping-bag on the floor of her packed apartment,   but you get my drift….

Film summary details: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0274558/

This is an outstanding Oscar winning film,   the best film I’ve seen this year….   ..definitely rated  in my top 10 films.   It was an accidental discovery on live TV!   It captured and drew me in,  for a plethora of reasons including

• Distinctive female central roles executed brilliantly by Julianne Moore, Nicole Kidman, Meryl Streep and Miranda Richardson.   Miranda Richardson is a personal favourtie because
  • I’ve been likened to her portrayal of ‘Queenie’ in Black Adder III.
  • Her outstanding portrayal of ‘Ruth Ellis’,   the last woman to be ‘executed’ in the UK  in ‘dance with a stranger’
  • Her amazingly versataille portfolio.
• An excellent screen script by David Hare.   David is a personal favourite of mine.   I’ve had the honour of being cast in plays he’s written.
• The value of life is questioned.   A worthy topic of consideration.   It’s profoundly distressing.   This may seem like an odd reason to rate a film as excellent.   I value films that take the audience on journeys they may not have the freedom or courage to take outside of the film.   Films that provoke thought,   manipulate emotions, heighten self and other awareness.   This film is fairly unique in its subject matter for such a famous cast,   yet the subject matter is accessible and potentially very recognisable.   I have very non-mainstream views on the value of an individual’s life that easily align with the decisons made by some people within this film.
• Philip Glass’s musical score.   Michael Nyman has been my favourite modern composer since I saw ‘The Draughtman’s Contract’   1982 and in subsequent Peter Greenaway films.   Michael is more internationally famous for producing the sound track for ‘The Piano’ starring Holly Hunter,   Harvey Keitel and  Sam Neil.   I normally find Philip Glass’s work pales by comparison.   My introduction to Philip glass was a live performance of the Opera ‘The fall of the house of usher’.   It was tedious.   By contrast,   in this film Philip manages to convey time and mood fabulously.   It turned my opinion of his abilities around.  
• Clever yet  easy to follow postmodern structure.    Few films have beautifully mastered interrupting and interweaving  multiple interrelated storylines.   Notable other successes are ‘Pulp Fiction’ and ‘Memento’.      
• Its personal and relevant today.    These women were all profoundly beautiful.   I found myself wanting to stand up and defend them,   to  celebrate their value, to break the pathway of their distress,   to rescue them.   But I couldn’t,   as the people around them couldn’t.   Fundamentally distressing.    This film caused pain.    I cried.    The outcomes felt inevitable and right for the characters.    Things haven’t changed that much.   The  main themes of the film are evident today.   That pain exists.     It’s everybody’s responsibility to remove the pain.

Do watch this.

Don’t watch it alone,   make sure you are with someone who cares about you or can effectively share,   empathise or  manage distress.   The film rating is too low,   this film is deeply emotionally disturbing,   it contains suicide and serious questioning of societal values.  

I made 2 mistakes.    Watching  it alone and answering a phonecall 15mins before the film ended while crying silently and still  deeply immersed.

I will be watching this film again.   I suspect I’ve missed many subtle nuances,   I want to use it to help be more aware and supportive in the lives I touch,   including my own.

W