Dissection of Despair

I've always enjoyed writing; mostly as a means of entertainment but also as a way of emptying my mind of some of the detritus sculling around in there. A lot of what I write remains private but occasionally I've been known to open up to a degree. I don't know why but it seems more effective sharing thoughts with others rather than just dumping onto a screen and then filing the words away in a computer memory.

Some Facebook people seem to live out every part of their lives through the medium. Whether it be joy, despair, frustration or even their last meal eaten, it's all there to share with the world although I've always felt uncomfortable with the idea of really baring my soul in that way. I guess I've always hidden my true feelings away (and my very close friends will vouch for this). I'm not sure if it's because I don't like to be thought of as making a fuss, be accused of feeling sorry for myself or whether I am hiding things from my own self. I play the fool and make the jokes  but, if I am totally honest, it's really the old "tears of a clown" act. I remember, in my late forties, I'd had this burn-out and my consultant psychiatrist, a wonderful guy called Wilfred Assin, observed that I never answered him without a split second delay whilst I censored my reply and examined it for flaws or weaknesses and he was totally spot on with that. That's why I could never understand (or, most likely, accept) people who post their deepest innermost feelings of hurt or despair on Facebook. It's funny really - why could I accept people posting about great joy or even anger but not abject misery? It angered me but, more importantly, it scared me.

I used the past tense there because I'm now beginning to get the reasoning and I think basically it's because of desperation in many cases. A blog, although linked to Facebook, seems not to be idly seen by the many as opposed to, perhaps, one of my photos and therefore I am more comfortable writing here. I am also able to finally admit that desperation.

It seems that, in the same way I had the burn-out back in the 90s, I have reached a point where I don't know where to go or what to do. My body has deteriorated in several ways: the prostate cancer, the thyroid imbalance, the unknown tiredness which, even after a year, still hasn't been sorted; these have all hit me in the last 15 months. On top of them, I now appear to have a sleep apnoea problem and also arthritis, the latter having created a little bony spur in my right ankle (an osteophyte) which makes walking extremely painful as it presses into the tissue around the joint. Basically, I feel old! All of this has undoubtedly affected me mentally as I have lost confidence in myself. Again, people that know me well are aware that the confidence I portray is a shell. Yes, sometimes it cracks but I can usually repair it but now I can't and that, to me, means I am totally vulnerable and that is anathema to me.

All these failures of my body also tend to accentuate the fragility of life and basically I don't want to die. Death doesn't frighten me as it's just going to sleep but the thought of having so much I want to do but not having the ability to do it makes me incredibly bloody angry. Seeing myself wasting each day by sitting indoors, unable to motivate myself, makes things far, far worse. I'm pretty sure that I know myself well enough to accept I do that as a way of punishing myself. Why I need to punish myself I, and several very clever professionals over the years, would love to know but I accept we never will.

I have to be totally honest and say that my restricted mobility and fatigue problem will affect my photography to some degree. During the year, I do a lot of event photography and am known for that. I really enjoy people coming up to me and saying they enjoy my work and, let's be honest, it's nice to be in the middle of the action with access all areas and it's a bit of an ego boost. My friends in Eastbourne Tourism and Events support me totally but I struggle to accept the fact that I may not be able to give 100% as I have always tried to do - yet another situation with which I must try to come to terms.

Yes, I feel desperate now and scared about coping. Sadly, I'm not the only one at home with health problems but I don't intend to speak more of that. Suffice to say, it is another intense daily pressure. Has this helped me? No idea yet. I hope it doesn't come across as a "feeling sorry for myself" post but I think if I hadn't written it then I would have withdrawn completely. I am more and more tempted to withdraw from social media entirely but I know that it is not only my window to the world but also my means of communication.

I was searching for a suitable quote to end this and maybe make me look intelligent and found this which isn't relevant but I'd like to think my loneliness now has a reason (insert ironic smiley). The fact that it came from Yousuf Karsh, a photographer makes it even better.

"I've also seen great men that are often lonely. This is understandable, because they have built such high standards for themselves that they often feel alone. But that same loneliness is part of their ability to create."   

                                                 

I've also seen that great men are often lonely. This is understandable, because they have built such high standards for themselves that they often feel alone. But that same loneliness is part of their ability to create. Yousuf Karsh
Read more at: http://www.brainyquote.com/search_results.html?q=loneliness