Gum on My Shoe

Introverts, in contrast, may have strong social skills and enjoy parties and business meetings, but after a while wish they were home in their pajamas. — Susan Cain A few months ago I shared a post inspired by Fran’s approach to things she’s unsure or anxious about. It wasn’t a theoretical exercise for me. As I mentioned in the article I’d been invited to a wedding in April. “I’m already anxious about it,” I confessed. “But it means a lot that my friends want me there and I’m looking forward to celebrating their day with them.” Social anxiety isn’t fun. And it’s not only weddings. I’ve felt anxious attending funerals, parties, mental health events (I’m aware of the irony), even get togethers with friends. If the plans involve more than two other people it’s a safe bet I’ll be uneasy about it beforehand. I called it social anxiety but I can be more specific. It’s the conversations that are the issue. I’m generally okay talking one-to-one. But as soon as there’s a third perso...

When you go home, do you look around and wonder, “Who are these people, where did I even come from?” I mean, you look at them all, sitting there, you know... they look familiar, but who the hell are they? — Claudia, Home for the Holidays A few weeks ago I mentioned to Fran that I needed to find something to write about. Without hesitation, she suggested I write about what Thanksgiving means to me. I said I couldn’t really do that as I’m not an American, but I could imagine I’d feel somewhat the way I do celebrating Christmas as an atheist. That is, conflicted. Fran paused, smiling. I realised what she’d done. She’d led me into discovering an angle to explore. I reminded her she’d done the same twelve years ago when she suggested I write a book about being friends with someone with mental illness. Both ideas were too good for me to dismiss! Hopefully, I joked, the blog post wouldn’t take as long to write as our book had. Christmas is a religious celebration of Christ’s birth, y...

Writing prompt: Tell the story of something that happened to you, but write it from a different perspective, or as fiction rather than fact. It was our first visit to the Green Festival. In past years I’d learned about it after the event, or we were doing something else, or ... well, anyway, this year we went along: my wife Pamela, son Michael and step-daughter Emma. When we arrived there seemed to be plenty going on. Lots of stalls and tents, noise and people. Our first priority, though, was food: somewhere to sit and eat the picnic we’d brought with us. We found a suitable spot close by a huge felled tree that was providing children with a makeshift and ecologically sound climbing frame. We attacked our picnic with good-natured greed to the accompaniment of the loud, live, 70s music emanating from a marquee somewhere close behind us. My hunger pangs assuaged, I sat back to take in the surroundings and indulge in a little people-watching. Perhaps from a desire on the part o...

In the first of a series of themed posts , I’ve compiled a selection of my open letters, plus two letters and a poem written to me by other people. The open letter format can be useful, not merely to share what we’d like to say — or have said — to someone, but also as a novel approach for presenting other content. I’ve provided a brief introduction and quoted from each letter, but I encourage you to read them in full. An Open Letter to My Father My father died when I was eighteen. This open letter to him was the first time I’d written publicly about my childhood and family life. It was first published in June 2016 by The Good Men Project . I grew up accepting disability and illness as things you put up with without making a fuss about them. But Dad, that wasn’t enough. I didn’t learn how much it fucking hurts to live in chronic pain. I didn’t learn how someone can rail against the injustice of it all, scream at the universe — and then move past that and...

I was searching for a blog topic recently and my son Mike suggested writing about my ideal Christmas. It was a good idea and I love this time of year, but I wasn’t sure how to approach it. My ideal Christmas has always been the last one I spent or the next one to come. In the end I decided to explore what I’ve enjoyed about Christmas in the past and how I’m feeling about this one, which is so different because of covid-19. I hope you enjoy sharing the journey with me. Childhood Memories My childhood memories of Christmas come to me as a series of disconnected snapshots or vignettes. Hunting for the presents my parents had hidden away. Finding them in the suitcases stored underneath their bed. Denshi board electronics set and Spirograph. The wooden gifts my father made for me over the years: the castle my son inherited, the music box, and the fishing tackle box I wrote about decades later. Standing outside Liverpool’s registry office on Christmas Eve in a blizzard at my cousi...

I’m on my way Driving at 90 down those country lanes. Singing to “Tiny Dancer” And I miss the way you make me feel, and it’s real We watched the sunset over the castle on the hill (Benjamin Levin and Ed Sheeran. “Castle on the Hill.”) I’m no music aficionado but if I really like a song I’ll play it over and over, to the point where I have the lyrics committed to memory. If I ever find myself at a karaoke with a few pints inside me and a friend at my side there are a few numbers I’d have a go at. “ Let it Go ” (from Frozen), “ Take Me Home ” (Jess Glynne), “ Fairytale of New York ” (The Pogues), “ Stay Stay Stay ” (Taylor Swift) — and Ed Sheeran’s “ Castle on the Hill .” I found Sheeran via a video of Canadian singer-songwriter Shawn Mendes performing “Treat You Better” at Capital FM’s Summertime Ball. The song meant a lot to me but in this recording Mendes opened with lines I didn’t recognise. A quick search revealed they were from “Castle on the Hill” by Ed Sheeran. ...

We are going through the pandemic together. — Fran Houston In our recent article for Diane Atwood’s award-winning blog Catching Health , Fran and I shared how the coronavirus lockdown is affecting our 3,000 mile friendship. The title we chose — Stay Home, Stay Safe, Stay Connected — highlights our commitment to staying in touch with each other, other friends and loved ones. Fran: Marty and I meet every day on Skype to hang out and process what is going on in the world and relax watching movies together. I talk with other friends on the phone. Martin: Connection is also really important to me. I can’t meet friends in person but I’m keeping in touch with as many as possible. I have friends I talk or chat to every day, coronavirus or not. But since the lockdown I’ve also been reaching out to folk I contact less frequently, or who I’ve not heard from in a while. Fran is doing the same. I’m sure it’s true for most of us. I was thinking about this the other day. It occurred to me th...

The author has asked to remain anonymous. At this time of nation-wide uncertainty, many of us are preparing to spend the foreseeable future isolated at home with our families, hoping to make the best of the situation surrounded by those we care about. However, isolating at home can be a frightening prospect for those members of our community who do not feel safe at home. This includes people living with a loved one suffering from addictions such as drugs or alcohol, and those subjected to domestic violence. I have lived with an addicted partner and know first-hand how this impacted my quality of life, as well as that of his children. Anger and frustration used to lead to domestic violence issues worsening if he could not obtain what he wanted or persuade me to get things for him immediately. Families are advised to isolate, and with good reason, but does this leave our vulnerable neighbours less likely to be taken in by those who are “socially distancing” from the rest of the comm...

By Peter McDonnell I realise that some people reading this article might not be enjoying their mental health at the moment. I would like you to know that it is possible for things to improve. January 2018 – “Let’s just keep all the good stuff and lose all the bad stuff.” As a result, at the end of 2018 I find myself more confident and outgoing. I was already doing very well in those areas twelve months ago but now my brain is serving up witty stories and points of general interest in a familiar, effortless, appropriate fashion, sometimes in a magical way. I’m not arrogant or egotistical so I like to control myself in social situations when I feel like my confidence is getting away from me. I have been reminding myself that other people are simply not as interested in many of the things that delight me, and so I pass the conversation on to other people too and just listen for a bit, becoming interested in them and their lives. I have two mental illnesses, psychosis and anxiety. ...

By Peter McDonnell This weekend my brother Will is home from Bristol, a rare things these days unfortunately. I live with my mum in my childhood home and my dad lives close by. At the moment we have just finished dinner and now we are sharing things on our electronic devices and relaxing. Will doesn’t share my opinion that my new Samsung Galaxy Smartwatch is worth every penny; unnecessary is the essence of his words. I agreed in part, but I have been looking for a nice watch recently and it makes so much sense to have a smartwatch instead of a normal one that could only tell time and date, even if it was emblazoned discretely with a mid-range maker labelling like ‘Citizen’ or ‘Seiko’. My new watch is like having James Bond’s watch. There are vast options for different designs for the watch face which on its own would be a clincher for the fashion conscious. Will told us about his recent shenanigans over dinner and desert. He is learning to drive and we talked about that too, and w...