So, a week after I’d told Deckname “Alan,” a friend from church, that I was feeling very down due to a variety of reasons, including SAD and other factors. Since then plenty of WhatsApp messages from him about how he’s been travelling around the English West Country, seeing lots of nice places.
Nice. Very nice.
Bedtime in Germany last night. Radio Four on. The World Tonight. Kindle and mobile my bedmates for the night.
I take my mobile.
G in G: Alan, remember I told you a week ago that I was feeling very down?
Alan: Yes, Ginge in Germany, I do.
G in G: Alan, have you asked me since then how I am?
Alan: I don’t think so.
G in G: (Thumbs-up symbol) Good night. I wish you good dreams.
Fast forward to this morning.
Alan: I will be early to apologise and say sorry now that you have felt neglect.
Better late than never. Hopefully a lesson learnt. Caring about your friends should not always be a one-way street.
Have a contrite day, won’t you!
Let there be light! Let there be a light box! ‘Tis the season of the year. Not just Diwali, Hallowe’en, clocks going back, etc. SAD time is here – for some of us.
What is SAD? Seasonal affective disorder. I get it. When I describe the symptoms to women, they generally summarise it thus:
It’s just like being hormonal.
With me it normally kicks in during late October. That’s when I switch my light box on. Give it up to a week, and I’m back to my usual crude, lewd and rude joke-telling self.
Have a light day, won’t you!
The title is a Latin phrase found in the work of the Roman poet Juvenal from his Satires (Satire VI, lines 347–8). It is literally translated as “Who will guard the guards themselves?”
The question in my head at the moment is:
Who cares for the carers?
Sometimes, and I’ll be frank here, I think the answer is: no-one? I’m a member of my local church council. I find it rewarding, and I like to serve man and God by doing all this work, whether sorting the church website or hoovering church carpets when the cleaner is on holiday, or spending hours sitting with fellow members of the congregation, listening to them telling me their problems when they are feeling down.
Yet what happens when the “care bear” and the church leader needs a listening ear? Where are the friends who were there when they were feeling down?
They are either:
- Not there at al: radio silence
- They are telling you about what a great time they are having on on their hols
- Moaning about their latest “playground fight” with a fellow member of congregation, followed by a huge long “mea culpa” session
This weekend got too much for me. I ended up at Schatz’, lying on the bed and listening to good mood music such as Rule Britannia. Finally, I decided to stick my shoes on and tell Schatz I was going out for a quick walk to the local bridge over the Autobahn and back to clear my head. Maybe she thought I was planning to jump off the said bridge. I wasn’t. Suicide is Painless, goes the theme tune to M*A*SH. But I wasn’t aiming to find out. Instead Schatz suggested we head the local restaurant and have a few drinks. We did that. Five glasses of Hugo and a good rant about the Ted Stryker fan club later, and I was feeling better. We duly waddled back to Schatz’ house, blood pressure somewhat lower than before.
Moral of this story:
- Support your local gunfighter. Support your local church council member.
- No matter how down you are feeling, no better how cheery your friend is feeling, ask your friend once in a while how he/she is, especially when you have been told bluntly that said friend is feeling down.
Danke nochmal, Schatz, für deine Geduld!
Have a supportive day, won’t you!