Problems

The Medic

The right of might,
The frailty of truth,
The light in the night,
The word printed and passed.

Passing softly, unheard,
Leaving rapidly, uncaring,
The facts of the matter,
Not considered, just assumed.

The strength of conviction,
The warmth of the hearts,
All supporting the tiring,
With no shortfall of might.

What rest for your head,
Where to lay your cares,
How strong your companions,
Who won’t let you fall.

The answer unknown,
The future untold,
But remember, weary traveller,
You don’t journey alone.

Always being there…

“How can you do it?” I’m asked, “You are the one who needs help, an ear to listen, a shoulder to cry on, someone to be your friend. How can you always be there for everyone else?”

It’s simple of course, being there for someone takes so little, a short time, a few minutes on the phone, a short drive. It’s no real effort. And the results, the effect it has, can, sometimes, be so profound, not to just never occurs to me!

Being there for yourself, on the other hand, is very hard. When you’ve had all you can take, when life hands you another spoonful of hateful, hurtful, painful, just plain life… It seems like nothing could overcome your pain, your troubles, your hurt.

By comparison, from your perspective, other peoples problems are such a relief from your own thoughts, and if you can help someone, perhaps, just maybe, you can get some respite, an all too brief moment of calm, peace, tranquility. Perhaps even the chance to sleep? Well, lets not over-reach…

“How can I do it?” My answer, “How can I not? Someone needs me, it’s the one thing I can do, and do well. Everything else around me is crumbling to dust. This I can do, I can make a difference, and reduce the world’s pain, even if only a little. And perhaps the universe will notice that I’ve got more than my share at the same time…”

When it all ends

Marriage is great, so I’m reliably informed by a number of my friends and I’m quite sure they firmly believe that.

I, however, have found it to be a less than ideal experience.

Betrayal, dishonesty, violence, bad faith, separation and divorce are the memories that stand out most clearly from my recent (and not so recent) past.

Of course I’ve been divorced (this time) for close to a couple of years and separated nearly three, so what’s bugging me now?

A few weeks ago my ex-wife was rushed into hospital, I couldn’t visit because she’d moved to America but she was in the best hospital in the state, so while I was concerned I was sure she’d be OK…

Wait a minute… I was concerned? This was the woman who’d slapped me around on numerous occasions. Beaten the crap out of me more than once. About whom I’d had calls from the police in the middle of the night. The reason I’d installed high security locks and CCTV. Where was the concern coming from? Beats the hell out of me (again!).

That bothered me.

Her daughter was dealing with everything and was getting run through the mill in the process but, through the miracle of the internet, I could be there to support her and that made me at least feel useful, like I could do something to help, not much perhaps, but something.

It didn’t go well and after two agonizing weeks, my ex-wife passed away, without regaining consciousness. For that I was at least grateful. Had she come round and realised what her illness had done to her brain, it would have been worse for her and most especially for her daughter.

I came to realise that part of what was bothering me was the knowledge that I would never find out why. What had I done that was so terrible that the only answer was to beat me up, to terrorise me physically and psychologically.

Is that really so important? Is that what this is about? Perhaps and perhaps not. Truth be told I’ll probably never work that one out.

What worried me more was the relief I felt, or rather, not the relief itself but the guilt about that relief. I was beating myself up for feeling good about the fact that someone was no longer in a position to do so herself.

In the end though I suppose it always comes to this: we don’t choose who touches our lives, why, or even how their absence or passing will affect us. We move through life, interacting with others, affecting them in ways neither we nor they can understand, or even realize.

I try to do good where I can, and where I can’t, at least to do no harm. I sometimes fail, we all do but I try. I’m proud of this (justifiably, I believe) but it also makes me sensitive to the feelings of others (or perhaps I have that backwards, I don’t know) and that makes me vulnerable.

Would I trade my nature for the security of not caring or feeling?

No, never. Of course not, though I often suspect it would make life easier…

Low

The journey to work is no different from normal, the faces I work with are no different from previous days and weeks, the PC on my desk is the same as yesterday. Yet it’s all just a little changed. Everything feels a little more threatening. I’m on edge, waiting, worrying, watching, listening for the other shoe to drop.

I can’t get started this morning, the challenge that a few days or a week ago seemed so welcoming has turned on me and is sat in the screens in front of me, stalking me, looking for the slightest weakness to pounce on me. The trip to the coffee machine seems further today, did someone move my desk?

What’s going on in my head? Why is everything so hard? Why can’t I solve this simple challenge? If one more person tells me to cheer up…

It’s actually ok, I’ve been lower in the past, and I’ll be there again. Everyone goes through periods of their lives where they find their mind is no longer their best friend, and I’ll be ok in a day or so. I always am. But what of those who aren’t?

I have a few friends, not many to be sure, but a close knit group. Of them only two don’t suffer from depression (so far as I’m aware), and suffer far worse than my little downer.

To look at them, or me for that matter, you wouldn’t know anything was wrong. It’s known, by some, as the hidden disease. It’s not an accurate monika, but it’ll do for now, and it makes the point I’m talking about quite well.

You look at probably 100’s of people every day, at the station, in the supermarket, on the street, and unlike a broken leg, or a sprained wrist, there is no indication they are suffering. They put on the best face they can, and try to blend in, because the last thing they (or I) want when they feel like that is to talk about it, and yet that’s the most helpful, effective thing you can do to help. Not “pull yourself together” or “cheer up” but ask them how they are, engage them in conversation, show you care, and that you want to help carry even some small part of their load.

It’s never the big things that bring me down, I can deal with them, it’s the preponderance of small issues, tiny, almost insignificant niggles, that leave me unable to cope for a while. I need to hide for a while, I tend to get accused of not caring, of not pulling my weight, of ignoring others. What’s really happening is that I’m overwhelmed, seemingly by thousands of ants, each a tiny problem I need to deal with, but I can’t because all the others get in the way and stop me thinking clearly enough to solve it.

A simple offer, “can I help”, while often the answer may be “no”, is all that’s needed for me, and I suspect many others, to provide a ladder out of the deep hole we feel ourselves in. It doesn’t “cure” me, but it helps me think clearly, to see that I can put the problems to one side for a moment, and talk about what’s happening between my ears, and that, in a way, is a cure of sorts…

Thank you to all those who’ve been there (and still are), you are a lifeline.

Believe Me…

Believe me when I tell you I lied,
You know you can trust me,
so it doesn’t matter how it hurt,
I did it for a reason.

Believe me when I tell you that I want you,
After I told you that I didn’t,
It doesn’t matter how it hurt,
Because I did it for a reason.

Believe me when I tell you that I understand,
While I trash all you believe in,
Still doesn’t matter how it hurt,
Because I did it for a reason.

I’ll tell you that I love you,
Then tell you I was joking,
I’ll tell you that I need you,
Just not right now,
I’ll tell you that we mean a lot,
Just not enough to matter.

Believe me when I tell you that I cared,
While ignoring how I made you feel,
How I hurt you,
How I crushed you,
How my heal ground you to dust as I passed,
You know I did it for a reason after all.

Confusion

What did I say,
Why did you do that,
How can I cope,
Where do I find the strength?

I was never so mean,
Never treated you so bad,
Never said goodbye,
While already returning.

I don’t understand,
Did I cause this,
Help me to see,
Where it all came from.

I know it was good,
I think we were happy,
You said something else,
And left me bewildered.

I still have those feelings,
They’ll not go away,
A constant companion,
A light, a spark, a memory of what was.

I’m confused about the parting
I’m puzzled about the messages
I’m uncertain about the future,
Not even sure about the present.

The one thing I know,
Without fear, doubt or question,
That I still feel as I did,
Before all this confusion.

Software development is hard…

Software development is hard, well that’s not really true. The act of programming is actually pretty easy, but knowing what to write, where, how, etc, etc is pretty exhausting. On top of that, if you rely tomorrow on what you knew yesterday everyone you know will pass you and leave you in a cloud of virtual dust, so you spend everyday keeping your skills up to date.

If you program in multiple languages and environments, as I do, this means each language and environment needs to be continually refreshed in your head, just thinking about it is exhausting. I only keep about 10 languages and about 5 environments current – There simply aren’t enough hours in the day!

I know this won’t mean much to many people, to whom the mysteries of programming seem as alien as the surface of Mars. But think about it this way for a moment:

Imagine you are a car mechanic. Now imagine that every car on the planet has a different set of tools needed for it, some have nuts with 4 flats, some with 6 (like normal), some with 7, perhaps there’s a few where the nuts are perfectly round and you have to tighten them with magnets. Now imagine that every 18 months everything you knew about the cars you work on becomes obsolete, along your entire set of sockets, screwdrivers, etc, and you need to buy new. On top of that, some cars are released without any tools that fit them, and you are expected to fashion your own tools while the car is in your workshop.

Getting the idea yet?

Now, of course, these cars don’t run on normal petrol, oh no, that would be too easy, they run on a very precise blend of petrol, diesel, moonshine and rabbit dung, each car to a different recipe, which you are expected to make for your customers, again without proper equipment – You just make your own, while your customers stand around saying they hate cars, that they don’t understand what was so wrong with dog sleds, and implying that you are part of the PROBLEM while trying to help them out.

Am I done yet?

Well, no, not quite. While bankers tend to leave the money in the bank, cooks tend not to take their cooking home, teachers seldom invite their classes to their homes, counsellors, pharmacists, doctors (you get the idea), if you work in IT, you tend to be everyone’s best friend…

I’m not complaining, you understand, I love my job, and more than that I love helping people, but seriously, it’s not just sitting in front of a screen while the computer does all the work…

Animals vs. People

Look at the world around you. Look at all the ills and evils, the problems, distress, arguments and wars. Each of those were caused by PEOPLE, not one was caused by animals or plants.

Just think about it for a moment. We, the supposedly supreme species on this planet, are the direct or indirect cause of every single thing that’s wrong here…

Perhaps there’s still something we’ve not yet learnt from the rest of nature: How to do no harm, how to coexist peacefully.