Sunday selections #774.

Sunday Selections was originally brought to us by Kim, of Frogpondsrock, as an ongoing meme where participants could post previously unused photos languishing in their files. Huge thanks to Cie who gave me this wonderful Sunday Selections image. 

The meme was then continued by River at Drifting through life.  Sadly she has now stepped aside (though she will join us some weeks), and I have accepted the mantle. 

 

The rules are so simple as to be almost non-existent.  Post some photos under the title Sunday Selections and link back to me. Clicking on any of the photos will make them embiggen.

 

I usually run with a theme.This week I am stepping well outside my comfort zone.  This post is all about me.

Most of you know that I have been volunteering with Lifeline Australia (a telephone crisis support line) for a very long time. My parents made clear to us when I was growing up that we had an obligation to contribute to the community as they did, though how we did it was our decision.  Volunteering with LL is one of the ways I choose to give back.

Last month our local centre had an awards night.  I usually avoid them, but it was made clear that they really wanted me to attend.  So I went, despite it being after a shift when I was already very tired.

And received not one but two awards. I was really appreciative, and embarrassed.  I suffer (quite badly) from imposter syndrome (I am convinced that sooner or later they will 'get wise' to me and throw me out) and prefer to fly under the radar.  If you embiggen the photos you should be able to read the wonderful text.

The first award is essentially a longevity one.  I described it (remember that imposter syndrome thing) as a slow learner award.  I have been privileged to be on the phones for over 26 years now.  It is not easy, but so worth while.  And rewarding, despite the fact that I have wept with and for our callers and these days often retire to bed when I get home from a shift.

 

 The certificate was given to me already framed.  I have no intention of hanging it up though.

The second was an award which I shared with other people for supporting other counsellors and the callers.

With this award I was given a beautiful wooden bookmark - with a sulphur crested cockatoo stamped out of it.  They know my tastes don't they?

The card under it came with an olive tree seedling.  Everyone who attended was given one and I hope to make mine grow.

Staying out of my comfort zone I have included a photo of me (lots and lots of photos were taken) with two of the staff members.  I am the one in the middle.

 

 

Grueling as it can be, I hope to continue volunteering here.  I have never come away from a shift without being humbled at our caller's resilience.  Many of them have and are going through things that would have me velcroed to the carpet under the bed refusing to come out.

I hope you are appreciated this week, and that you deal with it better than I do.

 

Out of the Shadows 2020

Today, September 10th, is World Suicide Prevention Day, and the start of World Suicide Prevention Week.  I spend time in the dark places myself and know both how fast and easy the plummet to the bottom can be and how very hard it is to see the light at the end of the proverbial tunnel much less climb out again. 

Most of you know I do voluntary work with Lifeline Australia, a telephone crisis line.  Almost everyone who rings those lines with thoughts of suicide has at least a degree of ambivalence.  I, and all the other volunteers, will work on that ambivalence to keep the caller safe for the moment/the day and to help them see and consider other options.   Lifeline believes that suicide is often preventable and that the start of the journey to safety can be only a phone call away.  It is often a long and painful journey but should never ever be one that people feel condemned to walk alone.

Here in Australia suicide is still the leading cause of death for people aged under 44.  More people die from suicide each year than are killed on the roads.  Sadly the numbers of people we lose to suicide are rising again.  Which, given that I suspect suicide is under reported, is scary.  Without question Covid 19 is going to increase those numbers, across all age groups and without regard to gender, or sexuality.  

I don't think that all suicide is wrong, particularly given our euthanasia laws.  However, it is such a final decision that I hope it is not the first option considered or tried.  And, as a solution to a temporary problem, I do think it is wrong.  Right or wrong it is always a tragedy.  A tragedy for the person who had, or believed they had, no other options and a tragedy for those they leave behind.  And the ripples from that tragedy encompass a lot of people.  Research shows that each time someone suicides, there are up to 135 people affected.  In addition there is strong evidence that if someone close to you dies by suicide your own chances of taking that path are dramatically increased.

In 2011 Lifeline began  national suicide prevention walks - 'Out of the Shadows and into the Light'. The walks begin before dawn and continue into the growing light.  It remembers those lost and those bereaved by suicide, with an additional focus on raising awareness.  The symbolism of starting the walk in the dark and progressing into the light of a new day means a lot to me.  Some centres start their walk later (ten or eleven) to attract more people and publicity.  I can see why, but am glad that our walks start in the dark.


 Restrictions caused by Covid 19 meant that the walk was in doubt this year.  Which worried me.  I have made a private commitment (after missing the first) that I would attend all the subsequent walks.  However, at almost the last moment, it was decided that the walk would go ahead in Canberra again this year.  Physically distanced, but emotionally joined.

Which saw me heading off again before dawn this morning.  The issue is much more important than I am.    So I walked.  Slowly just as I do every year.  Stopping to take photos.

There were brief speeches.  Some of the names and ages of those lost were read out - which I find moving.  No longer nameless, but identified and missed...  This morning the ages ranged from 16 to 72.  One person was identified only as forever young which made me think 'They will not grow old, as we that are left grow old'.  There was also an acknowledgement that there are names we do not know, which doesn't diminish their loss.

A musician played a song 'Treading Water' which had particular significance for him, and which made many eyes leak.  His friend had identified this song as his favourite on the album, and died by suicide in the studio in which it was recorded.


Come walk with me, through the cool dawn, into the hopeful light of a new day.

At home - just before I headed off. 
 

 

I liked the moon, shining through the clouds reminding us that there was still light - and that our glasses were half full rather than empty.

 

You will notice that masks were rarely worn.  Hand sanitiser was used, and contact details for everyone was recorded.  My city has had no cases of Covid 19 for close to two months and a level of complacency has crept in.
 

 It was, as it always is, an emotionally charged walk.  Tears were shed, but there was also laughter.
 

RU OK day (September 14) is also celebrated in World Suicide Prevention Week.  A  simple question we should be asking family, friends and colleagues every day.

Some services and links which may be useful for Australian readers include:

Lifeline 1311 14

Beyond Blue

Suicide Call Back Service

I am putting up this post later than I would have liked and apologise, but I went on to do a shift on the crisis line after the walk.

Stay well, stay safe. 

Volunteering

We were brought up to believe that we had an obligation to contribute to the community in which we live.  Over the years we often had an unofficial refuge in the home - people in distress would come for a meal and stay for weeks.  My mother taught migrants English in her lunch hour.  My father gave blood (hundreds of pints of blood) and repaired aids and appliances for people with sight disabilities.

As a young thing I volunteered with the YMCA, despite being neither Christian nor male.  And gave blood.

When I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis the blood bank slapped a life-time ban on me.  As far as anyone knows MS isn't a blood borne disease - but they were taking no chances.

The MS progressed and my employment was terminated.  And I discovered that I had been defining myself by what I did.  A mistake.

I needed to feel that I still had something to offer the community - so signed up to do the training with Lifeline to become a telephone crisis counsellor.  That was a little over sixteen years ago - and I am still there.

I take calls from people in crisis Australian wide - self-defined crisis.  So I speak to people with relationship difficulties, grief, loss, survivors of sexual abuse, people contemplating suicide (and on a few scary occasions people in the process of killing themselves), people wrestling with mental illness, people bereaved by suicide, and a whole range of other things. 

I also speak to people using the crisis line to indulge their sexual fantasies.  We are cheaper than the sex lines.  So far, while they get short shrift from me, I have managed not to ask them 'Are you interested in a job involving sexual intercourse and travel?  You are?  Well eff off then.' 

Each call is different, and my heart thumps each and every time the phone rings.  I firmly believe that if I wasn't anxious I would be getting complacent and it would be time to move on.

I have wept with and for callers and I have laughed with them too.  The calls are often challenging and frequently exhausting.  I have been frightened, angry, disgusted.  Sometimes I leave with my heart aching.

But I am not a hero.  I get a great deal more than I am able to give.  The pain, the fear, the anger I feel is a pale shadow of what the caller has and is enduring.  It is also a reminder that there are a lot of positives in my life. 

I am endlessly fascinated by people.  I don't always like them, and I often don't like what individuals or we as a species do, but I am fascinated.   And sometimes I can reduce pain, often I can share pain, and sometimes I can help people turn their lives around.  Which is amazing.  And rewarding.

So each fortnight I do a shift.  Most of what I do is listening.  Hearing, and sharing the pain and hopefully giving the caller some resources to take charge of their own life and direction.  When safety is an issue we are more directive, and will sometimes intervene but as a rule it is about empowering the caller rather than taking over.  In the 'off weeks' I put on a supervisor's hat and support other counsellors and negotiate with emergency services when and if required.   I sometimes fill extra shifts too.   There is always someone in crisis and our lines never close down.  We are open all day and every day.

Yes, I do contribute to the community, but I have chosen the way in which I want to do so.  It is a good fit with my interests, and has introduced me to some amazing people.  I suspect that if I was faced with some of the things our callers face I would be under the bed, velcroed to the carpet, refusing to come out. 

One of my brothers donates plasma each fortnight and drives the 'blood bus'.  He also volunteers at the local zoo - shovelling crap often, but being exposed to the animals he loves (jealous thoughts).  He. like me, volunteers in areas which are 'right' for him.

Similarly I work with the MS Society providing other people with the dread disease with peer support.  I wish it had been available when I was first diagnosed...

Soul Searching

I am a frequently grumpy introvert and most of the time I don't focus on the big issues.  I know they are there, but usually the small things are plenty big enough for me to cope (or not cope) with.  Essentially I am a watcher and a listener rather than a doer.

I give what I can to carefully selected charities and volunteer with Lifeline and provide peer support to other people with the dread disease.  A drop in the proverbial bucket - but every ocean starts with a drop.

However in the last little while two big issues have been nagging at me.  Loudly.  And insistently.

Suicide numbers here in Australia are rising again.  And suicide is almost certainly always under rather than over reported.  Not all suicide can or even should be prevented.  Suicide as a permanent solution to a temporary problem?  A very different issue.  I firmly believe that everyone who rings the crisis line with thoughts of suicide is at least ambivalent about their wish to die.  They want the pain to stop, and can perhaps think of no other way, but death is not their only option.  And I, and all the other volunteers will work on that ambivalence and do our best to help them develop a way to stay safe.  For the moment at least, until they can get to some other help...

My local lifeline centre has started a campaign with the aim of raising $1 million by November this year.  The link takes you to a short video.  We receive some Government funding but are largely self funded.  Training is an expensive and on going expense.   I don't donate money (directly) to Lifeline though I suppose that donating and purchasing books from the book fairs counts.  And I don't think I will give money this time either.  I don't even feel very guilty.  Lifeline gets its pound of flesh from me.  And I will be there for most of today supervising and supporting fledgling counsellors first days on the phone.

The next issue is bigger.  And I haven't properly resolved it in my head  or heart yet.  My country's treatment of asylum seekers horrifies me, angers me and shames me.  Over 90% of those whose claims have been assessed have been found to be escaping from genuine persecution and danger.  And successive Governments have bad mouthed them as 'queue jumpers' and potential terrorists, and built them up to be a threat to our well being and safety.  And now we physically and mentally torture them, and no longer guarantee their physical safety.  And deny them any prospect of EVER being accepted and housed here.  And are doing our level best to have them homed somewhere, anywhere else.  Without regard to their safety or dignity.

Who of us wouldn't take any means which presented themselves to ensure our families safety from persecution?   And no, I wouldn't join a queue (even if one existed), if the mere act of joining that queue would endanger my life and that of my extended family.

I have happily signed petitions and marched.  And recently another option landed in my in box.  Which is where my quandary comes from.

Julian Burnside, a barrister and human rights advocate has called on the community to show those people in detention centres that we recognise their humanity, and that we do care.  In this link he asks that we write to an asylum seeker on Nauru or Manus Island, telling them a little about ourselves and  to let them know that they are not forgotten and that we care.  And to enclose a stamped and self-addressed envelope so that they can reply.

One of the things which has made me so angry about our treatment of asylum seekers is the way we have dehumanised them.  Julian Burnside's suggestion is a step in the right direction.  It doesn't and can't of itself change the policies I object to, but it does show that people care.  It is a relatively simple way for me to 'put my money where my mouth is'.  But I don't know what to say, and I frequently feel over committed now and am reluctant to commit myself to an ongoing relationship.  So, from being angry and ashamed at my government I have moved on to being angry and ashamed at myself as well.  More thinking to do.  Quite a lot more thinking to do...

 

Out of the Shadows, Into the Light

Monday September 10th is World Suicide Prevention Day.  I am not so naive to think that we can eliminate suicide completely, but we can certainly try.

Here in Australia suicide is still the leading cause of death for people aged under 44.  More people die from suicide each year than are killed on the roads.

Many of you will know that I do voluntary work with Lifeline Australia, a telephone crisis line.  Lifeline believes that suicide is often preventable, and that help can be only a phone call away.

Last year Lifeline began inaugural national suicide prevention walks - 'Out of the Shadows and into the Light'.  Symbolically, the walks begin before dawn and continue into the growing light.  The aim is to help raise awareness of suicide prevention and encourage people to seek help.  In addition it remembers those lost and those bereaved by suicide.

I was unable to go on the walk last year, but took part in the walk arranged by my local Lifeline centre on Saturday morning.

 It was a long walk, in blustery conditions.  My mobility issues made it a hard walk.  Will I do it again next year?  I hope so.  I really hope so.

Some numbers which may be useful for Australian readers include:

Lifeline 1311 14

Beyond Blue 1300 224 636

Suicide Call Back Service 1300 659 467

The week that was

The feelings of inadequacy are moving off centre stage in my head.  They are still present, but as a bit player.  And I don't think they ever completely leave me, so I can probably cope with them in the wings as it were.

I have swum more, probably about 2.5 kilometres last week (over two sessions).  Thanks to DJan I am still working on the kick while breathing caper.  Harder than it sounds.  Drat it.  Given their druthers my legs would simply come along for the ride and let my arms do everything.  So I take along a kickboard and one lap in ten is just kicking.

I went to the dentist.  Firstly because I was due to have a check up, and secondly because I have been having significant shooting pains in my mouth.  The pain can come on either side of my mouth and doesn't seem to be triggered by anything in particular.  The result of the dentist visit was a very mixed blessing.  My teeth are all fine, and she took x-rays to ensure that there was nothing untoward happening out of sight.  Sadly, this means the pain is neurological.  I never thought that I would see the day where I was hoping for the dentist to find a decayed tooth or teeth.

I have finally made contact with the farmer that I was to talk to as part of the MS Peer Support Program.  He is doing it tough at the moment and for the next little while I will be talking to him each week, making sure that he is OK and just touching base.

I did a Lifeline shift last week and deserve brownie points for not telling one of our callers that he had behaved like a complete prat and was reaping what he had sown.  And yet more brownie points because I saved my laughter till the call had ended.  The poor possum had behaved badly for a number of years, was found out through his own carelessness and was appalled at being called to account for his actions.  Though I can't really climb too far up the path to the moral high ground myself without risking a fall.  The rest of the shift was the usual mixture of grief and pain.

On Friday I went to an exercise class at the local MS centre.  While I am a member there I try and avoid the place because I want my life to be about more than MS.   A lot more.  The class they were offering meets my needs though.  It is designed with people with MS in mind, is relatively gentle, and should improve both strength and flexibility.  And it was cheap.  There were only two of us participating which meant that I got all the attention (and then some) that I needed.  Sadly the other participant is showing strong signs of wishing to stick to me closer than glue.  Being moderately antisocial I am not happy about this.  Time will tell.

We have planted the Sumo Liliums, Calla Lilies, Columbine, Hollyhock and Sea Hollies  I ordered.  It is expected to rain gently for the next few days which will be good for them and also for the dahlias currently sitting in a box on the kitchen floor.  Or it will be good for the dahlias when I get around to putting them into the ground.  I have weeded.  More required.

The smaller portion bought me a book of logic problems so that I am compelled to exercise my brain.  I am currently reading 'The Chocolate Wars - from Cadbury to Kraft; 200 years of Sweet Success and Bitter Rivalries' and 'The Brides Farewell'.  I usually have a novel and a biography of some sort on the go at any one time.  The novel for reading in bed.  I cannot go to sleep without reading at least a little.  Paperbacks only.  Hardbacks hurt when they fall onto my face. 

It was a busy week, and probably too busy because I feel a little like chewed string, but I did at least get quite a lot done.  Not forgetting taking time out to watch the birds.