Things take a turn

It's the fourth day of the Write a Novel in a Month challenge and I should be 8000 words in. 

Alas, I am not. Well not with the Minutes Before Midnight anyway. You see, I was having a block of some sort. Every time I sat down to write that story it wouldn't come, it didn't feel right and I had more questions than answers. 

It was going to be part memoir, part fiction. It was going to be about my time working for a major bank during the Global Financial Crisis and the shaky nature of my mental health at that time. 

Maybe it just isn't time to tell that story. It must stay in my head until I make the decision for myself what I will do with it and how I will tell it 

This is not the end of the challenge though, there is another story that has been with me for seven years and that is the one I will write. I have written many words about that story and I know the characters well. 

So far I have hand written ten pages to add to what I already have and it doesn't take much to get in the head of my characters. I love the way their relationships take on a life of their own and are almost writing themselves. 

Today is a good writing day. 

Lauren  

Begin with the (almost) end

In preparation for the 50,000 words in a month challenge I have begun reading my old diary from that period.

26 December 2008

The nine point depression checklist; I ticked 'yes most days' for every question. Yes, most days I feel sad. Most days I cry, I feel worthless. Yes, most days I think of suicide at least once. 

I've exaggerated things in the past, usually just to get attention. Nothing awful. But this time I didn't and I'm almost strangely proud of that. I told the absolute truth. 

It was Christmas eve two days ago. It was the third time in the last few months that I had resolved to go to the doctor. The thought of facing Christmas day and three ensuing days alone in a freezing cold flat with no one to help, I dissolved into panic. 
Fear is all I've felt for many months now, maybe even years if I'm really honest. Not this intense of course, not at this level of anxiety. I've always felt kicked. I've always watched others live. They seem so lively. I can remember only one period of time when this kicked feeling wasn't the case. Seven years ago; sometimes I wonder if I hang onto that period too much. Hope too much that I can go back. 

But of course, Dr Willis doesn't know any of that. She only knows my current state of paranoia, of crying in her office, of shaking and not being able to breathe. Dr Willis suggested I break up with my boyfriend and go home. Translation: please leave, you're not Scottish. 

It was clear there wasn't going to be any anti-depressants issued on Christmas eve, in fact she wondered why I didn't have anything better to do on this day. No, this was the best thing I could do. 

I fell apart in front of her then, I still remember it. What I really wanted to say was: "Can't you see me you dumb c**t? Can't you see the terror, the panic, the - can't you see I want to end this?"

I wanted something to get through the next few days. I was desperate.

The Minutes Before Midnight: a novel in a month?

Midnight has long been considered the darkest hour hasn't it? 

Horrible things happen at midnight.

Ghost stories are best told then and feasts are had as a kid when friends slept over, at that hour. 

It's two hours before midnight at the moment and I have entered a writing competition. By 11.59pm on 30 November I must have written 50,000 words of a novel. 

The Minutes Before Midnight is my entry. It is part fiction and I am bravely (or stupidly) admitting, part memoir. 

Set against a backdrop of the Global Financial Crisis, it is the story of a journalist turned Public Relations pro who moves from Western Australia to Edinburgh. Ambitious and desperate to get away from the small town dramas and the humiliation of a cheating ex-boyfriend, Tara immerses herself in the corporate world of one of the UK's biggest banks. 

A year in she begins a complicated romance with a married-but-separated co-worker and assists with a hostile takeover of a European bank. Back home tragedy strikes as a former friend is diagnosed with a terminal illness. 

Tara remains committed to her work, Edinburgh is home now.

Things are changing though. Relations sour with her married man and a lot of secret meetings are going on at work. By September 2008 the northern hemisphere is in turmoil. 

Alone and disconnected from her family and sometimes reality; one freezing night will see Tara come undone and drive her to decide, in the minutes before midnight whether she will stay in this life or go.

So, we will see if, in the minutes before midnight 30 November, I make the mark.  

I give it a year

I feel like I've been doing a lot of talking about some heavy issues lately, which is of course a good thing. One can never talk too much about mental health but .... in the interest of preserving my own mental health I try to regularly take part in an enjoyable activity called watching movies.

Unlike many people I actually enjoy being on aeroplanes. Well, on short flights anyway. Unless you're in Business or First, a long haul to London is hardly enjoyable.

For me a plane ride is an absolutely perfect excuse to do nothing but watch movies and not feel one ounce of guilt over it. Why? Because there is nothing else to do. I can't walk the dog, do the washing or polish the silver because I am stuck in a metal tube thousands of feet in the air.

And so I chose this one, simply because it was British and starred Rose Byrne.

I Give it a Year

Movie info from Rotten Tomatoes: Since they met at a party, ambitious high-flyer Nat (Rose Byrne)and struggling novelist Josh (Rafe Spall) have been deliriously happy despite their differences. Josh is a thinker, Nat's a doer..but the spark between them is undeniable. Their wedding is a dream come true, but family, friends and even the minister who marries them aren't convinced that they can last. Josh's ex-girlfriend, Chloe, and Nat's handsome American client Guy, could offer attractive alternatives. With their first anniversary approaching, neither wants to be the first to give up, but will they make it?

It received some harsh online reviews and funnily enough I agree with most of them: it's smart and shocking in parts and tries to be cliche averse but fails.

The characters are strong: Rose Byrne plays the ambitious English rose flawlessly, Rafe Spall plays her dimwit, joker husband perfectly and Simon Baker - well he plays the suave guy well. There's no change from his usual character here but it's one he plays well.

However, it was not sans cliches. The opening montage was a sign of things to come. But it is the unexpected moments and Stephen Merchant's outrageous sense of humour that saves the whole picture. Particularly his recital of how a German would have sex. I haven't laughed out loud that much in a film in a very long time.

The ending wouldn't have survived the Hollywood cutting room. That's all I'll say.

Have you seen it, what did you think?

　

I'm okay with being unpopular

Most of the time I am okay with being unpopular or at least, not being one of the cool kids.

But this weekend I found myself in a lovely Italian restaurant in Melbourne and while sitting at the bar enjoying a superb glass of French rose, a gluten free mushroom pizza and the company of my lovely partner, I had a mild panic attack.

Why? Because I looked around me and not only felt unsettled and slightly claustrophobic but not good enough. All around us there were tables of friends and family enjoying dinner together, talking, laughing, drinking - all the things that normal people do. People unlike me.

And that's where the unravelling nature of anxiety begins for me. It starts with a slight knock to my self confidence, then I remember I don't like going out at night. I can't drink more than two glasses of wine a month otherwise it f***s with my head. I'm not normal, I'm not cool.

Just a few years ago I would have been right at home here, in the hustle and bustle of a funky eating place with wine and conversation flowing. But now, I want to run and hide. If I was really honest, which I was the following day with my partner - I actually wanted to get Dominos, go back to the hotel room and watch TV.

Part of it I know is growing up and moving on from those days of social mayhem; moving on from the need to be around people in a certain place, dressed a certain way, consuming certain food and drink.

I don't need that anymore.

Breakfast the following day was a different story though. In a laneway, gluten free French toast and coffee. I felt safe again. What is it about the night that disturbs me so?

If you haven't read the Wellness Warrior's blog yet, I highly recommend it. Todays post managed to realign my thoughts and depreciating self worth this morning. It was the new perspective I needed.

Being okay with being unpopular

Maybe it's not a matter of being unpopular, that seems like such a school yard term. Maybe it's actually being brave enough to say no thanks, not into that. And that's okay.

Too sensible for suicide

"I thought she was too sensible for that?"

"For what, suicide?"

"Yeah, I mean she was like really smart...I just don't get how she thought that was okay."

I overheard this conversation once, a few years ago now and I was reminded of it this morning as I read an interesting article about a barrister who went from being Mr David Stokes to Ms Heather Stokes.

It got even more interesting when I got to this line: 

Not that she would have harmed herself; she is far too sensible for that.

This was the writer's response to Heather's revelation that she didn't know what she would do if she didn't come out and live life as a woman.

Read the full story here

News.com.au is not my favourite source of news but occasionally, especially lately for some reason, they have had a few gems. Not well written gems, but interesting stories nonetheless.

I was quite shocked to read this. I understand why people think this way but it shouldn't be promoted.

If you have never experienced that kind of desperation or felt like the only way out is to end it all, then it is easy to think 'Why on earth would they want to die? They had so much to live for, they were so pretty/cute/sensible/loved etc."

Well the thing is, suicidal people don't think like rational people.

The following pattern of thought does not occur to suicidal people: I have this great family, a good job, lots of friends and hey I'm even quite attractive. I won't end my life, I do have too much to live for.

When one is in the depth of despair, whatever the reason, one usually feels very alone no matter how many loved ones they actually have in their life. Sometimes, all the love in the world doesn't permeate the sadness someone feels.

What angered me most about suggesting someone could be too sensible to harm themselves is that it implies all those who have, do or will in the future are not sensible.

No, it's not nice to harm yourself but that doesn't make you stupid. It makes you vulnerable and in need of compassion and help.

Lauren

Suicide prevention? Just ask Siri

Siri, the iPhone assistant has been good for locating restaurants and telling you the weather but now, she could also save someone's life.

Prompted by concern from mental health professionals about Siri's inability to handle suicidal references in the past, the update means she can now recognise requests that refer to suicide and in the US at least, can ask them if they would like to be put through to the Suicide Prevention Hotline.

Previously, Siri could locate suicide prevention centres close to users, if their location settings were turned on of course, but she could not call them for you. Which, to anyone experiencing suicidal thoughts could actually be the difference between life and death.

The American version of Siri's response

For anyone experiencing a crisis, depression or suicidal thoughts please call Lifeline in Australia: 13 11 14