I knew her by reputation only but when I heard the news about Helen Stokes today I was completely blindsided. Not in a 'lets jump on the grief bandwagon' kind of way. Anyway if you want to jump on a bandwagon, jump away, life is short, do what makes you happy. Even if that involves crying.
My life is good. I won't even try to deny that. I'm more at peace than I've ever been before and I'm making decisions every day that have a positive impact for me and, more importantly, the people around me. Unfortunately that doesn't stop Padfoot showing up. Like the oversized hound of hell that he is. Seriously, if I get myself a living, breathing black dog will he perhaps fuck right off? Unless he really is Gary Oldman in which case, stick around, I'm all yours.
He appeared in the tube again. I'm starting to think I may have watched An American Werewolf in London too many times in my youth as this seems to be a recurring theme. "Don't stray off the path lads..."
I'd spotted a woman on the platform who seemed to have a look in her eyes that I recognised. So I checked up on her. Which means I kept her in my line of sight. She was fine. At this moment in time at least. The tube arrived and she got on. No drama. My greydar clearly isn't up to Bawdsey standards and my furtive imagination would be put to better use writing fiction. Perhaps because I thought she looked like a potential jumper it woke up the generally dormant, spring loaded thoughts inside my own head. And suddenly there he was. Hello Padfoot. You again?
It wasn't as bad as when I thought I might jump but I was having one of those days when I felt like an ant, a plain old worker ant, busying away in a colony. The world around me slowed down. I could hear every sound more clearly, colours were brighter, the air was thicker. I understood my role, my place in this world but I couldn't appreciate its purpose. It seemed futile. I mean really why do we stay on this treadmill? Work to live. Live to work. Is there any difference? They both have negative connotations. As I said, I was having one of those days.
And then I saw the tweet about Helen. There was a link to a beautiful, simple, heart felt message on her company website that said "Like many great people before her, Helen suffered in silence with her depression. Mental illness, like any illness, is part of being human and we are so very sad to have lost Helen to this silent killer." I was floored. A high achiever - Helen is, was, an inspirational figure in the industry. We all know how I like to repeat myself but seriously if you still believe mental health is about feeling sad because of the things we don't have, think again. For so many of us it's about how we feel, pure and simple. Sometimes we feel like crap. Sometimes we don't. And that pretty much sums it up.
I managed to keep it together most of the day until I was on the train heading home and then it was too much; I couldn't stop myself from crying. Here was a woman who to the outside world had everything but it wasn't enough. I was upset because I'm still in a place where everything I have isn't enough. Not yet anyway. I have everything I could possibly want except the ability to love/like/value myself. So I'm going to keep talking. I'm going to keep making choices that are right for me. I'm going to keep sharing how I feel because I know I'm not alone. It's tough I know but let's help each other through this. Let's keep talking.
