Wake Up Call

The last few weeks have acted like something of a wake up call for me.  A number of things have happened that have either triggered or highlighted memories and feelings that I thought were no longer a part of my life. Not for a second have I started to backslide, but I think that I have a more realistic view of where I am in my life.

I have dealt with so much of my past and come to terms with what happened, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen and doesn't affect me or my life.  That is something that I hadn't really acknowledged until recently.  It is so easy when things are going smoothly to forget that a major panic attack or a backslide are only really just one step behind me, poised to sink their claws back into me.  And funnily enough, although I am now more alert to it, it doesn't really upset me.  I really would have thought that learning this would have caused me to back slide, but in fact it has served to strengthen my determination and resolve.

There is so much in my life now that helps to point the way for me.  Friends, first and foremost.  People from my past who I would never have thought to turn to have shown themselves to be the most amazing and supportive people.  Other friends from my past have proved that they are exactly what I thought they always were.  New friends who have shown me who I want to be, given me something to strive for and been there for me when I needed them.

I'm not for one second saying that I didn't have this in the past, but I was not in a place to see or appreciate them.  I'm not making excuses, but I was so wrapped up in the pain I just couldn't.  Now, a few years down the line and I cannot believe how lucky I am to have so many wonderful people in my life.  I wish I could name them on here, but that would not be fair on them.  Maybe they don't even realise how much they have done for me.  

There are a few I have told just how much they have done for me, but some probably don't realise.  A good, longstanding friend who I view more as a sister than a friend; a wonderful woman who, although I met her online, has shared many of my experiences and in fact even spent some time in the town where I grew up; a friend I met in Afghanistan, whose beautiful nature calms and uplifts me; a friend I met online who was there for me, whether he realised it or not; a woman from the town where I grew up, who I thought would turn her back on me when I came out with the truth, like most of those from her generation did, but who to this day has proved to be supportive and caring; a new friend who shares a love of the theatre with me and who herself has been through hard times and has inspired me.  These are just a few of the amazing people in my life, but they are most definitely the core that have helped me to get to where I am now.

And because of them, I am all the more determined to keep myself on track.  The nightmare that is behind me can stay right there - behind me!

Supporting others

I tried to get through to a friend today who is also suffering from Depression and I think I failed.  In fact, I think I may have alienated her altogether.  What is it about this insidious disease that makes it so hard for the sufferer to see what is actually happening to them?  Is it maybe a symptom of the disease?  And it got me thinking about Depression and the process a sufferer has to go through to survive it.

First of all, remember, I suffer from Chronic Depression.  It is never going to go away and for the rest of my life I will have to deal with it and fight it on a daily basis.  This is something I have now come to accept and though I sometimes find myself wishing it was otherwise, I generally just deal with it.  My first diagnosis of Depression was back in the early 90's.  My 'second' was about five years later, third in 2002 and again in 2007 when my parents died.  However, it wasn't until 2010 that I received the diagnosis of Chronic Depression.  Initially, I was devastated by this news, but now I have come to terms with it.  I accept that it is a part of me that I need to manage and care for.  And one thing I have learnt after all these years of going through it is that ultimately, I am in control.

The first step is obviously to take my medication.  Just like my diabetes, I cannot fight this illness without medical intervention.  Funnily enough, it is easier to remember to take my medication when I am at low points.  I suspect that this is because when I have clear symptoms they act as a reminder, whereas when I am coping well, there is nothing to bring it to my mind.  But I have developed different strategies to deal with this, such as marking the packages of medication with days so that I know when I have or haven't taken my daily dose.  And of course, keeping my medication where I will see it each morning when I wake up.  It doesn't always work and there are days when I forget, but most of the time I stay on course.

The next step is the one that I now find easier, probably because it has now become a part of who I am.  I look for the positive in everything.  I've come to realise that no matter what happens, if there is a negative, then there is always a positive.  If I focus on the negative, I am going to sink and that happened at the end of last year.  An indication of how far I've come became  clear when I quickly realised what was happening and took control.  Yes, I got support from Medical Professionals, but the first step had to be mine.

And that brings me back to my discussion with my friend today.  I tried to get across to her that the cure to her Depression is in her own hands.  She needs to take control of what has happened before anyone can help her.  And as the discussion progressed, it brought back to me my own reluctance to accept that I could control how I was feeling.  And reinforced my gratitude to the friends who supported me and pushed me in the right direction.  I can see how hard it must have been to maintain that pressure and not lose patience with my stubbornness.  And I know that I have it within me to persevere with my friend, provided she allows me to.  I won't give up - who knows better than me what a dreadful disease Depression is and how it can make it so hard to see what is right in front of you.

I am just so happy that I have got a handle on it now and I just hope that I can use what I have learned to help a friend in need.

Repercussions

Well, I'm home on holiday and thoroughly enjoying being with my family again, but one thing has been brought home to me.  Pretty hard in fact. When I made the decision to reveal what had happened to me as a child and named my abuser publicly, I knew that I would lose a part of my family.  And for the most part I have lived happily with that decision.

Okay, maybe not happily, but I have accepted that they have cut me out of their lives and can fully understand why.  But there are times that I wish things could be different.

This weekend for example.  I have not seen much of my eldest son for the last year or so, as between us we have worked away from home for much of that time.  So it was with great happiness that I found out he would be home at the same time as me.  And I got a great deal of pleasure out of spending a week with him, before he returned to work.  Then I found out he was off this weekend and immediately assumed he would come home.  However, instead he chose to go and spend the weekend with a part of the family that has cut me off.  And like an idiot, I encouraged him.

I made my choices and went through what I did, but at the end of the day, the only people who know the truth of what happened are 'Alex' and me.  Everyone else has had to make a decision based on whether they believe me or not.  And obviously, his family will believe he is innocent.  That is to be expected, unless of course he decided to do the right thing and admit it, which is never going to happen.  So that leaves me out in the cold where they are concerned.

But that does not change the fact that I was close to his parents for most of my life and the way I feel about them has not changed.  His mother, in particular has not had a good few years and to my mind, if I cannot be there to support her, the least I can do is let her spend time with my boys, who were just as close to her as I was.  So I actively encouraged him to go and see her, sacrificing my own chance to see him.  And now I am feeling just a teensy bit bitter.  And blaming myself.

Should I maybe just have kept my mouth closed and lived with it in silence?  The damage I have done to familial relationships is irreversible and I seem to be the one on the losing end.  It just doesn't seem fair.  I have lost family that I truly cared about and I can't help but wonder if they still care about me, even just a little.

I know I will probably never get answers to these questions, just as I will probably never get any form of acknowledgement or apology from 'Alex'.  And I know I need to accept it.  And mostly I have.  But there are always those times when I sit and think 'If only I'd kept quiet'.  

And then I look at where I am now and who I have become and I know I did the right thing.

Support

I wonder why it is that most people love being there for their friends and colleagues in times of need, but yet when we are the one's who need the support, we feel as though we are a burden and don't deserve it?  We will readily offer someone we care about a shoulder to cry on, but are reluctant to do the reverse?

I've had two friends and colleagues today who I've noticed are in a bad place emotionally.  Both of them have been there for me in the past when I've needed them, but neither thought to come to me in their time of need.  In fact, both of them didn't want to burden anyone else with their problems.

It's even harder out here for civilians too.  When we are under stress at work or suffering emotionally, especially when we are saying goodbye to people we've become close to, we try to handle it on our own.  I have heard the phrase, 'Yes but there are people going through much worse things out here' so many times, I've lost count.  We do, as civilians tend to shoulder a much bigger burden and grin and bear it a lot more than those living in 'regular' places.

For example, when we are ill or in pain, it takes a lot for us to visit the Med Centre.  Speaking for myself, I find it hard to turn up at the Med Centre, complaining of a sore wrist or a sore back when I think of what the Medical teams out here deal with on a daily basis.  It's even harder going to them about feeling low or stressed when we consider what most of the guys and girls out here go through.  How can we admit to not coping when all we do is work in shops and coffee shops?  We fail to realise that pain and suffering or symptoms of stress are personal to us, and cannot really be compared to what anyone else is going through.  

And we forget that most people would get a sense of personal satisfaction from helping us to feel better, just as we would if the roles were reversed.  It is only the most insensitive of people who would consider us less deserving of help and support and their opinion shouldn't really matter to any thinking person.  All of us out here are in a very challenging environment and deserve as much love and support as we need.  Now, if only I could not just say that, but believe it and convince those around me to believe it too.

Realisations

Quite an unusual day today and I spent quite a lot of time contemplating what has happened in my life.  But it wasn't until later in the day that I had something of an epiphany.  Not sure whether that is the right word to use in this context, but at the moment it is the best I can come up with.

I was sitting outside in the smoking area, along with a couple of colleagues and a number of men from our camp.  One young man in particular was having a discussion with one of our girls about events in his past and how they have affected his life today.  His words, 'I want to go back and change what I did' struck quite a chord with me.  I have spent so many years wishing that I could go back and change what happened to me.  And yet tonight, for the first time ever, I realised that is no longer what I want.

It sounds strange, I know, so let me try and explain.

I am who I am today, because of all that I have been through and how it has affected me.  My new love of life and confidence stems from my experiences since my 'attempt'.  I am finally happy with who I am and accept my past as part and parcel of that whole person.  Yes, the pain I have suffered through the years was hard to bear, for me and for those around me.  But looking at where and who I am today,  it was worth it.

So a piece of advice for anyone reading this - accept your past.  The good, the bad and the downright painful.  Every little part of it builds the person you are and I firmly believe that the harder your past, the stronger you will ultimately become.  Embrace the pain, know that it will pass and don't be too busy bemoaning your fate, that you miss the strength that is growing within you.

Saying Goodbye

It's that time of year again in the 'Stan - RIP.  RIP stands for Relief in Place, which is the process whereby the next the military serving here are replaced with fresh troops.  As always, I can't go into too much detail, although the information is freely available on the Internet if you want to look it up.

Needless to say, though, this is a hard time for me and a lot of others who work here permanently.  Even though I vow each time that I will not get attached to the new batch, in no time at all I have generally 'adopted' a few of them.  I find it difficult, as a mother, to distance myself emotionally from these young men and women who have given up their lives to serve their country.  To me they are special and inspiring.  When you strip away all the bravado and banter, you always find an honourable and amazing young person.  How many people can honestly say that they would gamble with their own lives to protect or improve the lives of others, because ultimately, that is what these people do out here - everyday!!

I suppose it is because I hold them in such high esteem and of course, also because many of them are younger than my own sons, I get pretty close to them and I can genuinely say that I care about them and their welfare.  So when the time comes to say goodbye, it is with very mixed feelings.  

On the one hand I am so happy for them.  They are going home, safe and sound, to their friends and families.  They are returning to their normal, more comfortable and decidedly safer lives.  But on the other hand, I feel almost heartbroken.  I have to accept that although we may have become really close, the environment out here enhances everything, including relationships and once they return to their normal lives, I will probably never hear from them again. 

Don't get me wrong, I understand that and I don't blame them at all.  But it doesn't make it any easier to say goodbye and watch them walk away.  I will hold back the tears and enjoy the moments we have, especially those who specifically look me up before they leave.  And I will wish them well and pray that they have long, happy and productive lives.

Lost in Translation

Having lived most of my life in a country where people spoke different languages, I've always accepted without question that sometimes it is necessary to explain words in different contexts to those whose first language is not English.  However, until I came to the 'Stan, it never occurred to me that I would encounter difficulties with those who also speak English, but who come from another English speaking country.

We work in a challenging environment out here.  The job that I do is not, in itself, particularly challenging, but sometimes the requests and/or comments I receive from customers leave me absolutely speechless or in fits of giggles.  For example, today a lovely customer asked me what was in our Freshly Squeezed Orange juice...  To be clear here, the gentleman was actually standing at the counter, watching one of the staff making the orange juice as he asked the question.  I know it was wrong, but I told him 'Apples'!!  And he didn't bat an eyelid.  Me, I had to rush to the office and hide for a few minutes whilst I regained my composure.

Yesterday, it was a question on a whole different level.  A gentleman came up to me as I counted stock, with one of the pillows that we sell.  The pillows have been vacuum packed and expand to their proper size once the seal is broken.  This fellow however, had obviously not come across this method of storage before and asked if we sold the pumps for the pillows.  I really must be quite evil, as I told him that we didn't have them in stock, but they had one at the QM's department on a neighbouring camp.  He thanked me and proceeded to the till where he happily purchased his vacuum packed pillow.  I would so love to have been in the QM's when he asked to borrow the pump!!

And then there was the lovely gentlemen who came to us complaining that our internet was not working.  Being part of the welfare package out here, one of the services we provide is half an hour's free wifi internet for every purchase.  Said gentleman had been trying to connect to the wifi, but failed.  To try and get to the root of the problem, I asked him if there was any message coming up when he tried to sign in.  He checked, came back to the counter and his exact words were 'It's saying connection failed due to sun spot activity.  Can you help?'.  My acting experience came in very handy as I kept a straight face and replied 'Just hold on a second.  I will nip out the back to my rocket and try and sort it out for you'.  And he very politely answered 'Thank you Maam' and returned to his table.  I really didn't know whether to laugh, cry or just carry on as though nothing had happened.  My colleague on the other hand proceeded rapidly to the office to hide.

I could go on listing some of the most amazing questions we have been asked.  The part that never ceases to amaze me though is the fact that most of them come from people who grew up in an English speaking country.  I would never complain though - it certainly brightens up our day.

Adaptability

I was sitting in my bedspace earlier, listening to the sound of gunfire and explosions and it dawned on me yet again just how adaptable we, as humans, actually are.  This was never more obvious to me than it was yesterday evening.

I was sitting with a colleague, waiting for transport to get from the American camp to our camp on the British side.  As we talked, the two of us were gazing at the beautiful spectacle of flares in the sky and tracking the red streaks of tracer rounds.  This of course accompanied by the sound of automatic gunfire and the almost continuous drone of helicopters entering and leaving the area.  We looked toward each other at the same time and both burst out laughing as we realised that we were enjoying the beauty of something that most people would find intimidating.  We now accept as normal what others would deem unusual.

Not so long ago, just over a year in fact, seeing someone carrying a weapon was cause for a second glance.  Now, that is the norm.  Rather, it is the one not carrying a weapon that we stare at, deciding whether they have just arrived or are about to leave.  A weapon on a table, pointing in your direction is no longer a cause for concern - even those who find it uncomfortable would just push the barrel aside, albeit gingerly.  Walking around the smoking areas or through the cookhouse, we don't even stop to think as we step around the weapons lying on the ground, daring you to trip over them in a moment of inattention.

The sound of air traffic, gunfire and flares no longer distracts me from what I am doing.  I no longer hear a bang and pause for a second to consider what it might be, momentarily flinching and ready to drop to the ground.  I just go on with my life, secure in the fact that if it was anything unusual, the alarms would be sounding.  And even that has now become something less than worrying.  

It just goes to show that we can adjust to anything out of the ordinary, given enough time.  In an ideal world, it wouldn't be necessary but we live in an ever changing world, where some places are less hospitable than others.  All we need to do is accept the differences and acceptance follows.  If only we could apply this to other areas of our lives, such as this differences between people from other parts of the world and other cultures, wouldn't our world be a much better place?

Human Nature

Well, today I had my faith in human nature restored, or more specifically, my belief in the fundamental goodness that resides within my colleagues.  We had a bit of an incident this evening, where something pretty important went missing.  To start with, there was the usual finger pointing and everyone trying to apportion blame.  Noone really wanted to accept responsibility for the loss and there was a great deal of confusion.  Once the original panic subsided, my colleagues then started to rationally track the movement of the missing items throughout the day.  It was eventually established that the chain broke at a specific staff member.

Yet again, we moved back to passing the buck and some stepping back shrugging.  Eventually, however we realised that the items were definitely missing and action needed to be taken.  And this was where my colleagues showed what I believe to be their true colours.  

Obviously, I cannot talk about specifics on here, as that would lead to further complications, so please forgive me for going about this in such an indirect manner.

So back to what happened.  One colleague was needed to return to our place of work to search for the items.  He had been asleep, as he has a particularly early start in the morning, but was woken up to verify that he did not have the items.  He willing returned to his bedspace to dress and whilst he was changing the staff members who had so far become involved stepped up to the plate.  Instead of heading for their own beds, bearing in mind that by this time it was pretty late, they one by one decided to return to work and help in the search.  They didn't need to do this, but they willingly sacrificed their time to support each other.  

Once the search began, each and every one of them did their part.  Although there was some complaining which would be expected, they all pulled their weight and did everything they could.  I felt so proud to be a part of it and it showed me again why I love it out here.  There are days when the petty complaining really gets to me and I wonder what has become of the good nature that I know resides within all people, but then something like this happens and I see the beauty that I always look for.  

Six of us went back to work tonight, one out of necessity and the others because they chose to show their support to a valued colleague.  I have never felt so proud to work with this group of people as I do now.

A New Chapter

Well, I have finally come to a decision.  Over the last few weeks, months even, I have been debating ending off this blog and starting a new one to mark the new chapter in my life.  Then it finally struck me – this is a new chapter, not a new book!  Who I am now and what I do is directly as a result of who I was and what I have been through.  It is, in fact, all part of the same journey.

So, here goes.  This is the beginning of a new part of 33 years later.  More appropriately I suppose it is in fact 35 years later, but that is merely numbers.  I am still the same person in many ways and all that I am is wrapped up in my past.  To those who read my blog with an interest in understanding or sharing my past, I am sorry.  There will probably be references to that past, but my mindset now is more about moving on and the future and this is what I intend to share.

First of all though, some explanation.  Because of where I work and who I work for, I will have to change certain facts.  Basically, I work in a shop in a war zone.  I cannot name where nor can I name my employers, but I’m pretty sure many will work it out for themselves.  But rest assured, none of the information that I share will in any way endanger those around me.  I will be extremely careful about that.  Where I refer to specific people and incidents, I will make minor cosmetic changes to protect identities, but I will not dramatise or enhance events for effect.

Some incidents I describe may be sad, some happy, but I hope overall that what I will build is a picture of how my life has moved on and who I have become.  And it is all thanks to Alex.