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Quarantine and Mental Health

So pleased to have another wonderful post from Katie and Evee for you. Can’t thank them enough. They also have just posted something from me on their site as well. If you get the time please check it out.

Thank you so much.

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Our current Quarantine Routine, looks a bit like this:

– Katie wakes up and makes us both a coffee and works out

– We read, write, blog or go on walks or bike rides.

– Evee works out

– We cook dinner together

– We have our own evenings where we chill out, talk to our friends, or watch Netflix. (Evee falls asleep significantly later than Katie (usually with the odd noise complaint thrown in!))

At the beginning of quarantine, there was a clear and obvious push for people to make the most of this time. People were learning how to make banana bread, teach themselves how to do handstands, and learn Spanish or Italian. We also had good intentions; to paint, write, eat completely cleanly and have a strict regimented workout plan.

When we couldn’t bring ourselves to be productive, we were filled with guilt at the thought of wasting this precious gift of time ( https://thegriefreality.blog/2020/05/06/the-gift-of-time/ link if possible ☺ ). It was almost too easy for our minds to wonder back to the days of our own lockdown after Mum’s funeral and the depression that followed. During these days, counsellors encouraged us to mark small things as “wins”: showering, exercising, or eating healthily. But also, to the even smaller wins, like waking up in the morning, making the bed.

After our mum passed away, we were completely alone. As said beautifully in Gary’s post, there does come a point when people stop checking in and stop asking how you are. Apart from a few golden people, many individuals you thought were going to be with you until the end, become memories as well. It is a desolate place to find yourself in.

Thankfully, we have always had each other, and through trying to look after one another, we found ways to build ourselves back up.

Simple acts of self-love may appear futile or irrelevant when the future holds so much uncertainty, but we cannot imagine what our health and wellbeing would look like without them.

Lockdown has been a journey and has impacted our mental health, alongside thousands of others’. For us, it felt hauntingly similar to those grey days of 2018 that bore witness to some of the darkest moments of our lives. But through self-care, we learnt self-love.

Self-care grew to become an essential part of our healing and an ongoing exercise for our health and wellbeing. It is a wonderful thing to do that we strongly advocate, and promote heavily on our blog: Plant those little seeds of self-love into your body and mind.

As with any new exercise, it has been a difficult lesson to learn. But today when the world finds itself in so much chaos, we know to focus our attention on making ourselves feel happy and healthy. Eventually, our calm approach to life and clarity come back to us, and we ground ourselves once again.

One simple act of self-care is to sit in the bath, with a face mask, cuppa tea, bubbles and a coconut oil hair mask. It truly is amazing how much these luxuries make a huge difference to our wellbeing.

We have linked a post of little self-care tid-bits, everyone can do; it doesn’t have to eat up too much of your time. (if you could link this post https://thegriefreality.blog/2019/04/03/i-dont-self-care/ that would be wonderful ☺) It can be as small as making yourself your favourite tea before bed.

Hold tight, eventually, the hustle and bustle of normality will resume, and when it does we hope you carry forward these acts of self-kindness. In doing so, we have no doubt you’ll be more than capable and prepared for it.

Katie & Evee x

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 67 Comments

Rainbows

Who doesn’t love a rainbow. My partner adored them. They remind me of happy memories. But they also show me that life goes on. A rainbow doesn’t last for long. But if you are patient, then another will eventually appear.

Life goes on. After you lose someone special, you do forget this. There is always rebirth. That took me a long time to figure that out. For months death marked the end. That’s the frustration. If it’s the end, why is the world still spinning.

Maybe a better way to look at it for me is that death actually marks a boundary. A demarcation between two life’s. That way life does seem to go on. That’s how the world keeps spinning. That makes more sense to me.

So now I look back and see my partners death slightly differently. Her death marks a boundary. The ending of our life together. As the boundary is crossed, no more joint memories can be created. She has left this world. But here’s the key. She left the world a better place than she found it. She did her bit to enrich the people she encountered. That’s a sign of a life well lived. Surely that’s what we all should be hoping to achieve. When she left. She left her little part of this world, a better place. Filled with many memories. Some memories make you smile. Some bring a tear. But these are all memories to be treasured.

So my partners death did mark a boundary. I crossed that boundary. I brought those memories with me. On the other side of the boundary my life changed. Full time parent, tidying up the outstanding issues from the last life, treasuring the precious memories and starting to live again. Striving to leave this world a little better than I found it. Just like a beautiful rainbow.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 86 Comments

Dream

I don’t know why but last night I had a dream about a trip we had a couple of years back to Lindisfarne. A place called Holy Island. You have to drive across a long causeway running out into the North Sea. After a few minutes you arrive at the small island. You can only drive onto the island at low tide. The monastery was founded on the island in 634 by Saint Aiden. It became the base for christian evangelicalism in the north of the country. In 793 it was raided by the vikings and that raid is often seen as the start of the Viking age.

Son absolutely loved this place because of the history. He also liked the thought of walking somewhere his mum had been. We had a lovely holiday here before we became a family of 3.

Don’t know why I dreamt about Lindisfarne. In the dream we were stranded by the tide. Couldn’t get off the island and everywhere was locked up. And the vikings were coming….. Not sure if my car security is Viking raider proof. It will almost certainly invalidate the car insurance.

Bizarre dream.

I keep reading that so many people are having weird dreams at present. I’m certainly on that list. Not going to try and explain it. All I can say is that I do like a good dream but not the endless sleepless hours which seem to follow mine these days. But I am so lucky. A warm bed. Hot drinks on tap. A safe home. Books to read. Old photos to look at. And I am not alone. Tired yes but I can work round that. I’m ok as long I’m not asked about Quantum Theory or French Verb Conjunctions…..

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Battered Rose

This rose bush was here when we first moved in. So it’s at least 18 years old. Given the state of it even then, I suspect it’s been here much, much longer. The changes it has seen over those years. Some good, some bad, some happy, some sad. It’s in a really annoying place. Right next to the front door. Constant pruning required to stop your arms and legs getting lacerated just trying to get into your own home. I dread to think how many times it’s been smashed and broken by washing machine and furniture deliveries. It’s regularly attacked by the local wildlife and pets. So yes it’s had a challenging life.

Yes it’s a tad battered. The roses are never perfect these days. Always a little worn at the edges. The foliage is getting a little thin in places. But it’s still here. Just like we are. I can’t speak for you but in my case I am so like this bush. A bit old. The body has taken one too many hits. Definitely battered and a little frayed round the edges. You could even argue that I’m starting to take root. But currently I am still here. Still trying to live. I will give thanks for that.

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No Rose Show yet

No jokes today. No script. Let’s just see where this takes me.

It’s the very early hours. It’s my partners birthday. Once I’ve finished I will close the iPad for today and hopefully I will see you tomorrow.

These are strange times for all of us. But to be fair it’s been a strange time for our little family since 2016. That’s the year the world stopped and changed for us forever. Those six weeks from hell. We lost my mum and our Son’s beloved little nan on the first day of that period. That day started as a fun birthday for me and finished in heartache. Almost straight after the funeral my partner wasn’t feeling great and went into hospital overnight for routine tests. The next day having come to pick her up, I was taken to one side by the Doctor to tell me that things where bleak. She only had a 5% chance of surviving the month. Zero chance of making it to Christmas. She was deteriorating rapidly and she wasn’t really conscious. The following conversation with an 8 year old will haunt me forever.

She never fully regained consciousness. We had no more conversations. I can’t even remember the last one we had. Three weeks later I was telling the 8 year old his mum was dead. 2016 and those six weeks from hell.

This day in 2016 I had just given my partner a plant, a Yorkshire White Rose. She had always wanted one. I wish I had bought it so many years earlier so she could have enjoyed it. Since then it has always bloomed in time for her birthday. Not this year. The bad winter has set things back. It’s a few weeks behind schedule. But it will get there. It’s a hardy soul. It feels like one of the few life bridges which didn’t break in 2016. A link to a world now gone but certainly not forgotten.

So now I will focus on our Son. Yes there might be a few tears but hopefully if I do my job right then there will also be smiles. Let’s be thankful for those wonderful times. Let’s remember those other times when the world changed. Changed for the better. Our first date. Our first night in the new house. Finding out those pregnancy results. Holding our baby. Our first family family holiday.

Wonderful, loving times.

So that’s it. Take care and remember that this is still a wonderful world. No more words today. See you tomorrow.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 96 Comments

The forecast

The weather forecast is saying it’s clear blue sky and no rain today.

The clouds and the showers would beg to differ.

Another inaccurate weather forecast. It’s clearly the forecasters fault that it’s raining …. It always is. I remember going to a Test Match (Cricket) between England and India. It had been a good weather forecast. But it was chucking it down and play was suspended. With perfect timing the main TV weatherman came onto the pitch to do a weather forecast. I’ve never heard anyone get so many boo’s. It was his fault that it was raining.

To be honest we get many incorrect predictions. Leaders saying a pandemic will just go away. Those pension salespeople saying that you will be able to retire at 50. Being told that Betamax and V2000 would be the best video recording formats. No one would be daft enough to vote for Trump or Boris. My Dad saying Status Quo wouldn’t last as they can’t sing or play. Brexit was easy and could be sorted in days. The Sinclair C5 was the vehicle of the future…..

Basically life is to unpredictable. You just never know what will happen. What’s round the corner.

I know this all too well. One day your talking about the next family trip to Switzerland. Discussing trying for a second child or adopting. Then 3 weeks later I’m leaving the crematorium with my partners ashes. A broken single parent. That wasn’t in the forecast or the plans.

We often learn this lesson far too late. I did. Don’t assume there will be a tomorrow. Remember to hug those you love today. Start ticking off those bucket list items, right now. If something special to you is broken, then try and fix it today. Today, speak to those you care for. Make sure you live today.

Lecture over…. And yes it’s still raining here. I blame it on the weather forecaster.

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Honesty

Sometimes it’s best to check the facts behind what someone tells you. Often it’s what they don’t tell you that is the key thing….

So this week we have had utter governmental incompetence. First they proclaim that having the second highest death toll in the world represented a great achievement. Then they pronounced that it was time to celebrate as the lockdown was ending. Two days later that message suddenly changed to the lockdown is staying in place. Then Sunday night the PM announced that those who can’t work from home should start to go back to work the next day but don’t use public transport. Within hours that became best wait till Wednesday.

It’s absolute chaos. The lockdown stays in place in Scotland and Wales but not England. In those countries the message is Stay HOME. In England it’s changed to Stay ALERT. How do you stay alert to something you can’t see. You can now see your parents and family but they can’t agree on where, when and how. Already this morning, the rule on how many elderly parents you can now visit has changed 4 times….. We currently have incomprehensible madness. You can go to work and see work colleagues but you can only meet up with one member of your family. You can drive to destinations but they won’t tell you what your allowed to do when you arrive – are you even allowed out of the car? They talk about using the R number (the effective virus reproduction number) as the decider of policy. Yet they can’t measure it. In other countries they give a definite number. Here it’s always given as a range somewhere between 0.5 (in your dreams…) and something well over 1 (more likely). If we only test a few people then how are we supposed to work the number out. People with mild conditions are told to stay at home but are not tested.

So much waffle and misinformation. Clearly it’s what they are desperately trying to avoid telling us that is the key. Strangely that’s the stuff which will also show what a catastrophic cockup our PM has made of this crisis. Can we please have some some real honesty.

So in the spirit of Honesty, I will come clean with you. I’ve not been telling you all the facts. I’ve hidden something from you. SORRY. I’ve been talking about my swimming analogy. Grief and life feeling like I’m swimming towards an ever receding islands. That better stay as something in my mind and not actually happen. As I CAN’T SWIM….

Aa a kid we only had two swimming options. One was to swim in the Sea. That’s the North Sea. It’s better known as the OMG how cold is that Sea. Also in my day the local Steel, Chemical and Nuclear Plants would dump far too much into the icy waters. Big signs on the beach would warn against eating shell fish. If that wasn’t bad enough, you would get signs next to the poison signs warning Do not swim due to dangerous currents. So not a great place to learn to swim.

The only other swimming option was the town’s swimming pool. A very old swimming pool. Obviously built before they had invented the words – Heating or Hygiene. My new School would do weekly swimming lessons there. That was my big chance. Sadly that chance evaporated. The first lesson was curtailed when one of the older boys thought it would be funny to have a wee in the pool. The second lesson was only a few minutes old when part of the Pool’s glass roof started to fall down. Again we were evacuated. The pool didn’t reopen while I was at school. So that’s my excuse – I can’t swim.

See it’s easy to be open…..

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Flight

Such a rare site these days. A plane…. According to the flight app it’s on the way to Houston. I wonder how many are on the flight? With so many unseen enemies I don’t imagine it’s a particularly pleasant experience.

I was never the greatest of flyers. I was always one of those who kept one beady eye on fellow passengers for unusual behaviour and the other on the structural integrity of the plane. Luckily I never had too many bad experiences.

  • A landing at Geneva which was a tad extreme. I heard one flight attendant say – that’s the co pilot, he drives his car just as bad….
  • An argument with English Border Security why they were body searching our 3 year old toddler who was holding a cuddly dinosaur and his 73 year old granny, yet waving through adults my age. I wonder if that got me onto the security watch list….
  • A last second aborted landing at Leeds Bradford. Sudden pull up with feet to go. Then 10 minutes circling at an extremely low height with no pilot update. Finally the pilot announced that the power had gone out at the airport during the landing.
  • A year later circling Leeds Bradford airport for far too long waiting for the wind to drop. The pilot didn’t help the mood by announcing that the plane was low on fuel so they could only circle one more time before they he would have to find another airport that was open.

But then you balance that out with great memories

  • That first glimpse of The Alps through the plane window.
  • On a flight to Amsterdam telling son a story about a talking mole who would sneeze so hard he would blow clothes off washing lines. People and other talking animals would stand in front of the mole hoping for a sneeze and a free journey. A mole whose best friends are an overweight tea drinking cheetah and a crocodile who was scared of everything. When I finished I heard the toddler behind us laughing her head off. Her parents asked if I would tell another one for her. Ended up doing stories until we landed.
  • Our toddler son telling the the flight attendant on a Lufthansa flight that the in flight cakes were the best thing he had ever had. Just before we left the plane, the flight attendant returned with a huge box of the cakes. Kept him going for months.
  • As we boarded a Swissair flight the pilot clearly took a shining to our son. Seconds later son was sat in the pilots seat with her pilot hat on. He was shown how to fly the plane. That’s an awful lot of things to look at.
  • Swissair was always so much fun. Just before you landed they would dish out free goodies for you to take with you. Free chocolate, free small wine bottles, free sweets and a free soft toy for the kids. Sadly they went bankrupt – I wonder why….

Back to that one flight in the air heading to Houston. It got me thinking about when I would fly again. The question rapidly changed into if I would ever fly again… Aspergers and modern flying are not natural partners. Too many people squeezed into confined spaces. In your face security. Never ending queues. Unpredictable timings designed around the planes rather than the individual. The sensory overload and lack of personal space or quiet areas. Maybe the answer is never.

If and when travel resumes for the world…. if and when travel resumes for us then we have options. Train journey is still not subject to many of the burdens that go with flying. Car travel can be so much fun …..just need a car that could make it out of Yorkshire. And yes air travel may still be an option.

Or maybe I can find a talking mole who has a talent for massive sneezing. Maybe mole sneeze induced travel is the eco friendly option for the future.

Posted on by bereavedandbeingasingleparent · 80 Comments

New Style

Some objects look spectacular and then you have me……

“Dad the lockdown means that it doesn’t matter what you look like. We have seen one person in 7 weeks. No one is going to see you. Which in your case today is a real bonus.”

Last night was spent listening to songs from the Stranglers and Bad Company. On Tuesday the music world lost Dave Greenfield the brilliant Stranglers keyboard player to this dreadful virus. Only a few months back we had seen him so full of life and at the height of his form playing in Leeds.

Then yesterday Brian Howe the wonderful Bad Company vocalist was lost to a heart attack. I only got the chance to see him once. A night I will never forget. It was the night my dad died. So yes I listened to some music. Music with mixed emotions. But thankfully most of my thoughts stayed on legacy. Focusing on what those two fine musicians had contributed to my musical journey.

As we all know – life has to go on. The world keeps turning. Got to keep listening to the music. Often music and life are intertwined.

So why was I looking so beautiful this morning, so deserving of that comment from our Son. I had been sneakily trying to regrow my beard. Hoping Son wouldn’t notice. Well it was spotted and I was ordered to shave. I did a beautiful job shaving the left side of my face. Then abruptly the electric razor stopped working. It went bang. So now I’m left with half a beard and half a moustache until a new shaver arrives on Monday. Strangely I can’t remember that look ever catching on.

“Well if someone comes to the door you will just have to stand side on Dad. You can decide if you go for the beard look or the shaved look. It’s your call. You could even try and confuse them. Every time they look away, turn to the other side.”

Never thought I would be such a trend setter….

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The Big Screen

Sometimes sitting in the garden feels like the biggest ever BIG SCREEN.

“Dad I’ve really got use to our home based movie nights. I was thinking that I’m not sure I ever want to go to the cinema again. Too many people. Too much stress.”

Going to the cinema has always been a bit of a lottery with our Son. We need to carefully manage the process. Arrive before the queues start to form. Carefully select a movie time which will be quiet. Sit on the very front row as this is likely to be empty and you won’t get anyone in front of you. Then keep you fingers crossed that no one sits close to us. Wait till everyone else has left before we depart. So many stress points for both our son and parents. We’ve had to leave movies within minutes (or even before they have started). Slowly the number of movies he would endure the cinema stress would reduce rapidly. Before the virus took hold it was down to just Marvel movies. So no I am not surprised that he’s backing away from cinemas. Sadly I think he won’t be the only one.

It’s not helped that our cinema options are limited. The only cinema he would go to in the end was a large muliplex in the city. It ran early morning showings which where usually empty. Unfortunately they have redesigned the cinema. Bigger, armchair like seats have been installed. Bigger seats means less seats. Less seats means fewer chances to find space. Which means the screenings feel so much busier. For someone with Aspergers that is a major issue. So are the cinema trips over? Well if they are then I have so many memories from them

  • Taking mum to see the Horse Whisperer. She hadn’t been to a cinema in many many decades. She was a little taken aback (and very relieved) that PATHE News wasn’t shown before the movie and she was amazed that people didn’t wait for the credits to finish – as a child she had to wait for the national anthem.
  • Taking son to see one of the Smurf movies and realising we were the only people watching it. Having your very own giant big screen is such a cool feeling.
  • My first date with my partner was to see The Phantom Menace. Unbelievably our relationship survived that experience.
  • Going to our local cinema in the nearest market town. It always looked such a small cinema from the outside. Unbelievably it was actually way smaller. We watched Black Panther with a couple of his old school friends and it felt like we took up half the seats. A screen probably smaller than most peoples TV and with just a handful of rickety old seats. That was the main screen, lord knows how small the second screen is.
  • I was brought up in a seaside town where the cinema was on the beach. During a high tide the gents toilets would flood.

Photo from Trip Adviser

  • Went to see the Blues Brothers at that cinema and someone let off a stink bomb. Only the very hardy got to see the end of that one. Luckily a head cold and a blocked up nose gave me a distinct advantage.
  • Went to see BMX Bandits there as well. It was absolutely heaving. Unbelievably two kids sneaked in bikes and started riding them around during the film. A week later a famous Oscar winning movie was on and no one turned up. Summed up the town really.
  • My first trip to a cinema was to see Digby The Biggest Dog in the World. Yes I am that old.
  • Before I met my partner I remember going to see JFK with a long time girlfriend. Foolishly it was the midnight screening. I fell asleep after the first few minutes and woke as the credits started to role. Strangely I was able to fill in the missing 3 hour gap and actually felt that I had not missed anything.
  • My partners mum wanted to go to the cinema as she hadn’t been in years. She was a devout Quaker so we looked at various religious film options which the local specialist cinema would offer. One film looked very promising. It was a 2 hour documentary about monks living on a remote site. The monks had taken a vow of silence so the movie only featured background sounds, no talking and no music. After seeing the various options her mum opted for the cartoon, Chicken Run and loved it.
  • I took son to see Captain Marvel. Unfortunately his muppet Dad took him into screen 3 rather than screen 2. As soon as the movie started it was clear that the movie running here was Dumbo. Unfortunately Dumbo in 3D. We didn’t have any 3D glasses so we had to rather embarrassingly trudge out.

So just maybe our cinema days are over for the foreseeable future. That’s kinda sad but if that makes our Son happier then that’s fantastic. There is something reassuringly nice about watching a movie premiere wearing your old comfy jogging pants with a big bowl of popcorn on your lap. Also in full control of the movie options, so we can decide to switch films at any stage. So here’s to the days of the home based cinematic experience. Time to create some new memories.