Getting the Better of Fear OR Stranger than Fiction

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/R._N._Taber

[Update - April 26th 2020: Many of us suffer from depression at the best of times. The coronavirus pandemic means we are living in the worst of times many people will have had to confront in their lifetimes so far; the toll on mental health worldwide is incalculable. Where many of us will admit to being 'stressed out' those same people often prefer to avoid the term, 'mental illness'; they see its some kind of stigma. Whatever, our mental health is every bit as important as our physical health; both are necessary for our general well-being. 

Regular readers will know how much importance I place on positive thinking, the key to mental and physical health, now more than ever as we fight not only the pandemic itself, but our fears for its potential economic and social consequences worldwide. 

Enter, the human spirit, always on hand to lead us away from negative thinking by substituting a natural optimism ... if we let it. Life is tough for everyone at the moment, especially those struggling with the virus itself or who have already lost loved ones and friends to COVID-19, but also the world population in general; everyone fears the unknown and needs must find their own way of rising above that fear.  For me, it is creative therapy, and I recommend it;; this can be the arts, gardening, physical exercise ... anything we can enjoy, that will lift our spirits, offer the human spirit an opportunity to actively engage with us and  help us to help ourselves and encourage others to do the same.

The human condition is no pushover, not least in its capacity for love; let its nemeses throw what it will at us, we will overcome them if we but engage with its spirit full-on. As I've said on the blogs many times, I'm not a religious person, and it's my belief that religion does not have a monopoly on spirituality, but whatever ... if it works for you, GO for it.

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Now, regular readers will know I have suffered regular bouts of depression all my life. Creative writing is the lifeline that empowers me to drag myself out of it. Okay, so some of it that may not satisfy my critics, but it helps to keep me on an even(ish) keel and feedback suggests that it helps some readers to do the same.

Depression is a form of retreat from reality when we try (and inevitably fail miserably) to run away from aspects of life we prefer not to confront head-on for whatever reason; if we end up confronting anything it is our failure to run away which, of course, only exacerbates the depression.

Depressed people need patience, understanding and help. Sadly, all three are often found wanting in modern society. Indeed, I would go so far as to say there is little more of any now than when I had a severe nervous breakdown way back in the late 1970's.

It is important to remember that depression is an invisible illness; you cannot tell simply from looking at a person that he or she is depressed. If someone you know, though, starts behaving uncharacteristically in any way, please give them the benefit of the doubt and be there for them. Depressed people are often in denial (as I was myself all those years ago) so be supportive even where someone may well reject the idea they are in need of any support. 

I suffered from depression even as a child; being an avid reader saved me from the worst of it. I never thought of reading as creative therapy, but of course it was, just as writing would become in later years.  No one considered that children might get depressed in those days, but thankfully, attitudes have changed, and about time too.

Invariably, it takes time and care for mind, body and spirit to get back into sync, but where there's a will, there really is a way ....

GETTING THE BETTER OF FEAR or STRANGER THAN FICTION

I ran like a frightened rabbit,

a once-friendly darkness all but

choking my lungs;

every exit blocked, no escape,

sentenced to death in the pages

of a novel

Panic-stricken now, desperate

to feast my eyes on one glimpse

of freedom;

finally, surrendering to despair,

I paused, all but ready to see how

my story ends

Suddenly, the faintest memory

of some long-ago spring charged

my ailing heart;

calling upon a half buried will,

I somehow managed to chase it

down the last tunnel

In fresh air and warm sunshine

I found the peace that closes eyes

and lets dreams pass

where, oh, but we would follow,

give reality the slip and be a hero

in someone else’s novel

Yet, the story is mine alone to tell,

second chance at living, promising

a kinder ending;

as for those readers burrowing

dusty bookshelves, may they too

re-invent themselves

[From: Tracking the Torchbearer by R. N. Taber, Assembly Books, 2012]

[Note: This poem first appeared on the blog in 2013 under the title, 'Run, Rabbit,Run'.]