Could you tell me a time you needed someone else?

It was a day I nearly lost. Waking up early in my, suddenly, messy room, again. I'm locked into bed demanding why things persistently tumble from order to chaos. It's too late, before I realise I'm wasting my time. A day off is a day off, the only one I got. I'm finally feeling lazy enough to get out of my bed, and it becomes clear this is how every day off goes. So to motivate myself I make coffee, cigarettes and food. Essential things to do before leaving the house, but perhaps a little distraction before too. Watch some videos and read some news, make attempts to reach out of this loneliness. If no one close is free, I'll happily go further and further until I'm talking to robots. Before long I realise I'm wasting my time again.

Frustration pushes me to get out and leave for a walk. I suit up, grab the lead and get in the car, I'm going north. Perhaps this beautiful part of the country is bad for my soul, at the drop of a hat I can disappear up a hill, through the woods, along the coast. Perhaps this is why I give myself so much time in the morning. I still hadn't decided where i was going, I had a memory in my head, of a place I wanted to reclaim, but without a clue where it was. This is sometimes why the voice in my head tells me I'm crazy, busy looking for something to reclaim, stumbling around like a fool without that clue.

After over an hour of driving, the pin I dropped in the map was wrong, the road is leading me through a pretty flooded Ford, so I stopped. For all this stressing about relaxing, I achieved little more than wasting petrol. Brilliant, a nice accompaniment of guilt to join the laziness and foolishness this morning has already brought. This is when it hit me the clearest, I'm only here wasting my time again. More time spent in my head justifying, apologising and arguing myself to myself all the while wasting my time from things more productive. I'm impossible, there's a hole in my bucket and I'm annoying myself, out for a walk but not finding one, out for myself and all I do is argue.

Resigned I was about to go home. I put the car in gear and notice someone is walking towards the car from theirs. Suddenly, this woman had arrived at the window of the car and knocked. I had a moment, while I fumbled to open the window, to notice this women must have been in her 50s, with a well worn jacket and that this is the first person I'm going to actually speak to today. As the window opens the lady leans down and arrives at my level. Well this is it, I'm going to have to talk and connect with a stranger.

She asks me straight "do you want to move my car forward so you can park behind mine?"

I'm hesitating, trying to quickly arrive back to the present to reach out and give my response.

"Oh, you know, it's ok, I havent decided where I'm going just yet, dont let me put you out" I finally replied, quietly hoping she didnt notice the vulnerability I'd woven through the words. I'm caught in her friendly face with a feeling that shes looking right through whatever mask I've put on to hide my internal voices. I'm left asking myself, just who is this woman?

Her face breaks into a smile, causing my defences to begin to dissolve, and she tells me I should park and leave for a walk from here.

"There's an old woodland that goes up the valley, it's perfectly quiet and has indications that people from a time long ago lived and worked within this woodland. If you are looking for a walk this is the one to do" she finally said through her smile.

This strange woman, who appeared from nowhere and has an apparent ability to talk straight through the feeble defences I normally put up between strangers, was using all the words that would persuade the child alive within me to get out and really explore. I dont need to hesitate anymore, the idea has been firmly sold, or maybe I'm just happy someone has come and told me what to do.

I move my car and fill the space this woman has created for me, I take a moment to roll a cigarette and process all these unusual feelings meeting this woman has stirred. I've already imagined her as a magical gatekeeper, loitering around the entrance to these woods to encourage, or discourage, individuals on whichever path they need to take that day. I know I'm back wasting time, but I'm inspired into a world that I love wasting time in. This has been what I've been waiting for all day and I feel it.

I'm ready to set off and make sure I thank this woman once again because my gratitude has grown considerably since parking the car and catching up with my thoughts. I confidently stride towards the gate and it barely slows me down as I open it to let me and the dog through. Already, after the first few steps I feel like I've moved far away from the world I woke up in. I find a rocky outcrop, that worked as a quarry at one point in history, and I'm straight up climbing to the top. Ok, it's raining, and my shoes are not appropriate, but it doesnt matter. I've long left the self loathing that would have seen these as hindrance, completely removed from the hindrance the ford presented to me. Completely removed from the guilt, laziness and foolishness that was accumulating within.

With this new spirit and perseverance I was able to take the good with the bad. One became the other and this motivation encouraged me to ditch my unsuitable shoes and to trust that wet and muddy feet are more practical to me than wet and muddy shoes. This symbolic act of removing my shoes and walking muddy trails and through muddy puddles rescued my fragile mind in a significant way. It represented to me that being ill-prepared is solvable.

My mind is a labyrinth of endless corridors to get lost down, this is something I cannot change. However, it's a dynamic place which can transform in a moment and learning to trust the corridors I find myself roaming through is difficult. Knowing how I see these corridors is never permanent and that fills me with reassurance. I'm learning that the lonely corridors are sometimes the most difficult places to roam, without physical company it can feel impossible to experience the perception change that can inspire or debilitate. So loneliness is not a choice, it's a situation many people find themselves, and if you are open to connection, and willing to let your path cross, even the slightest moment of company can be enough to transform your perception.

So thank you again, wonderful strange lady. I might never get the chance to tell you to what extent you changed my day, or my life, but I'll pass on your intuition to people over again. If it can happen once, it can happen again. You're likely to never know how much you mean to other people, whether close friends or complete strangers, but every day a stranger makes someones world less lonely. Here's to hoping that this wonderful strange lady knows this, I find her worth talking about again and again.

Could you tell me a time you felt lost?

I have always struggled with my mental health. I don’t know when the words depression and anxiety started to resonate with me, but I always recognised a sadness, a kind of darkness, that lay within me and at times gripped me harder than others. I have had hard years and happy years, bad years and good years. Sometimes, it lies so quietly, I almost forget about it. At other times, it is something I fight every morning, just to get out of bed. This seems to be the easiest way to tell if I am doing well or not: if I can or cannot get out of bed. This is the simplest tell-tale sign, the most grounded in reality. The rest of it can get hard to explain. 

When the darkness is winning, it feels like an abstraction. The world around me, my emotions, my own identity, shift into kaleidoscope patterns. My thoughts and actions are no longer anchored to this world, but exist in an abstract, chaotic space through which I seem to be floating. I grasp at strands and safety lines: my family and friends, routines, or simply my bed. Meanwhile, my very identity and ability to make sense of the world seems to have been thrown off balance, jeopardised by my own mind. It becomes harder and harder to know who you are without your illness. 

A few years ago, I had a very bad year. It happened and I lived through it. With time, patience, therapy and a lot of (self) love, I got back in touch with reality, with myself and managed to create a life I was happy with. I worked hard, celebrated the little things more and, slowly, the little things added up. I became full, happy, strong. I was doing the best I had in my entire life. I had fought for my happiness, for the life I wanted to live, for my friends and family. I am proud of myself for that. I still am.

Obviously the path to recovery is never smooth and I still get low, but these days my lows aren’t so low anymore. I take a moment (a day or a couple of days if needed) to look after myself and gently pick myself up again. Normally, this works and I will be back on my feet. However, last autumn, I lost my way again. I couldn’t seem to get back on my feet. A couple of events or situations tripped me up in quick succession. I fell the lowest I had been in years. Yes, relapse and bad days are always going to be a part of recovery. But this is truer than I’d ever thought. The words people say and all their reassurances of ‘this will pass’ fade away. I felt like I had failed. Like all the progress I’d made, all the work I had put in, the mountains I had climbed – it had all been for nothing. I kept asking myself: am I back where I started? Do I have to win this fight all over again? The weight of these questions dragged me further down into the darkness. 

In a way, yes, it was a fight that I had to win again. A fight I will probably have to continue to win over and over. Except this time, I had the right tools. I asked for help. From my university, from my friends. I recognised my own limitations and put my recovery first. Most of all, I kept going and telling myself if I could do it before, I damn well could do it now. While part of me dragged every step of the way, deep down I knew I could get through it. I was just a little lost and I would find the path again. A year later and I am doing better. Still healing, but much better. The most important lesson I learned was that recovery is not a road that has been paved ahead of you. Every person will have different bends and turns to navigate. You must make your own path and occasionally you will get lost in the woods.

I know that I am stronger than the darkness I live with and each time I beat it down, it gets a little smaller, a little less scary and a little more manageable. I believe in myself a little more and the power it holds over me lessens. All I want to do is to put one foot in front of the other. I hope that one day I turn around and realise the darkness has faded into the past. This piece is a small testament to that recovery: it takes time and it is ok to lose yourself along the way. Just remember, you will find your way back.