Thursday, September 22, 2011

Coming Back To Life

Being different has become what could be called a standard in modern (western) societies. We are ready to call a lot of looks, behaviours and points of view acceptable. But while the way we dress, the lifestyle we choose and the things we believe in are subjects of races for the weirdest possible, we still struggle to keep an open mind when it comes to what happens to what we more often than not call minorities. It is acceptable to be different as long as it impresses others, as long as it is "hip" or "cool". As soon as it comes to problems or handicaps, many people feel the pressure to keep it to themselves, thus trying to draw the least possible attention to their very person or to what they are suffering from.

This world can be quite a dark and cold place to live in. Within the moment you have to open your eyes and leave your warm bed, you can find yourself deprived of all the precious energy you somehow managed to regain during the night, which has been far too short, because your brain wouldn't have let you enter the realms of  Morpheus for too long. The idea of leaving the house makes you feel sick, while driving to work, you can hardly fight the urge to vomit. You don't want to stay with those people, nine or ten hours, maybe more. You don't want to listen to them, you don't want to solve the problems that they caused themselves.
You want to go home, where it is safe, where it is warm. You feel sick of fighting, even though somewhere, deep inside, you know you should, you should try. But you have lost your strength on the way already. Everything is cold, everything is dark, and it feels like it is all closing in on you. There is no easy way to explain it to others, and the unsolicited advice just upsets you, if there would be any power left, you would be wild with rage. But because you just don't want to listen to them any more, you become a hermit, your flat turns into your safe haven.
You feel trapped. You are trapped. And you cannot escape without help. Without it, it is a downward spiral, without support, there is no way out. Because deep inside you know, that tomorrow will be even worse. And while considering options, considering all options, you turn to your bed. After the lights have been turned off, the world is still dark, but at least this is a warm place. What would be the difference if you would not wake up again?

This sounds depressing. There is quite an easy explanation why it does: this is how a depression can make you feel. Actually, this is (in excerpts) how it made me feel. Not for the first time, sadly, and quite likely not for the last time. Depressions and burnout are proper conditions which need proper treatment. The weird thing is, that, just like a drug addiction, depressions cannot be cured, at least not like a cold, a broken bone, or anything like that. Chances are that they return and strike again. The only way to deal with them is to keep them in check, trying to be prepared, by avoiding situations that will quite possibly trigger them, and by raising awareness for early symptoms.

One of the biggest deals about fighting depressions is, that is necessary to swallow one's pride. Again, just like fighting an addiction, one needs to trust some others by telling them about the issue, and by asking them to support the efforts to avoid the real trouble. It isn't easy to accept hints from the people that surround you, but those who share parts of your life with you and know about the issue can be a reliable source for much needed feedback. Apart from that, they can help you to get out of the downward spiral before you are in too deep. - It is hard to get there, to entrst yourself to others. But it is totally worth all the efforts. Seriously.

There is a huge impact on almost every sphere of life: job, relationships, social life - you name it. The point is to realise that there is quite a difference between having a bad day at work, or not feeling like meeting with friends or going to the movies, and feeling permanently overwhelmed by the job, feeling scared by the idea to meet people, not to mention finding yourself surrounded by strangers. As soon as the bare ideas already start to worry someone to death, that is no longer simply odd or weird, but about someone's world that is about to collapse. And this someone may not be able to ask for help any more.

When depressions hit me for the first time in my life, about 15 years ago, I somehow managed to ask for help. I cannot remember how, and at this point of my life, it really doesn't matter any more. What is far more important is, that I did learn a lot about myself, about the ways the human brain works, and about the pressure everyday life creates. Think about it for a moment. (Take your time. I am going nowhere without you.) Isn't it amazing how we manage to deal with it all, day by day, and somehow manage to survive without suffering from serious damage of body or soul? Well, at least most of the time, we do.

I, for one, managed to come back to life. Somehow. And I think because I did, depression isn't such a scary thing to me any more. But it still is a dangerous condition, even more so as it is either under control - or not. Since that first time I suffered from depressions, I am a little bit more prepared, at least I feel like I am, and I learned to listen to my body and my soul. Coming back to life isn't easy, though, and leading a "normal" life can be quite difficult. Depressions will never leave, and as soon as I fail to preserve my equilibrium for some time, I have to deal with the consequences. It had to. Two more times, so far, with the last major episode not so long ago.

I am coming back to life, again. It takes me longer to get there this time, but I have no doubt that I will. The main difference of this approach is, that I am working from the outside to the inside. But how? I found a new job that I really like, I had to move into a new flat that is bigger and brighter, and I smile a lot. It is funny, but especially that smiling bit is working wonders. It is an honest smile. (You can tell by the crow's-feet around my eyes.) The best thing about it is, that it is not only helping me to stay relaxed and calm (well, most of the times, that is), but it makes the people I meet during the day smile too. It makes life easier, mine as well as theirs. Life is good.

Coming back to life also means that I have to relearn a lot of things. Most of my former (social) contacts have become non-existent. Socialising has been some kind of blind spot, all of my life. Crowds of people have always been suspicious to me, and I never felt exactly comfortable when meeting and talking to strangers. But nobody ever said that coming back to life would be an easy thing. Having a life is a challenge, day by day. And maybe, at some point in the future, I will be ready again to share my life with somebody else. I would love to. But let's not rush things. Meeting people and finding new friends will do for starters.

So, if you meet a stranger these days, wearing a panama hat, with a knowing and warm smile on his face, and a twinkle in his eye, well, that could be me.

Coming back to life.


PS: Yes, it is true, this post's caption and the title of a song by Pink Floyd, they actually are identical.

Saturday, September 17, 2011

Some Things Just Don't Mix

Those of you who did have a look at my profile at Google or at my bio at Twitter might already know this: I love music. I love to listen to all kinds of music, and if you would like to learn more about it, have a look at my library at last.fm. This one, of course, isn't a complete list, far from it, but it might give you the idea of what I am talking about, and I would be glad to hear about the tracks you would recommend! Yet loving music, for me, is not only about listening to it: I love to make (and write) music, too.

Over the years (the fourth decade of my life is coming to its end already) I had to learn that some things in life just don't mix. While I don't think of that as a bad thing in general, even though it is a continuously growing list, every now and again it is quite a setback for me, especially when it comes to making or writing music. The fact that I rely on technology as some kind of crutch (please pardon the expression) to record my ideas and create stuff, as I never learned to play any of the instruments I use properly, tends to be a challenge of its own.

So, two of the things that just don't mix, at least not for me, are making music and moving. Over the last 12 years I moved about six times, and I really don't like moving. Every new flat brought the inevitable quest for the right space that could be both, the set-up area for my equipment as well as the place where I could do some creative work. While it isn't much of an issue to find some room around the flat where the stuff can be just stored, it is rather difficult to have the instruments in a place where they can be kept in some state of readiness. When I have an idea that feels right, I have to record it immediately, so fiddling around with my keyboards and computer just to get ready to record something isn't the way for me to go, never has been.

Recording the idea is only one aspect. Building something from that idea, finding out whether this would turn out to be a piece of coal or could be turned into a shiny diamond (or something like that), is a completely different story. Building something like a demo can easily take me a couple of hours, more likely even a couple of days. With that in mind, it is quite easy to understand that the place where it all happens should both, feel right itself and make me feel good, too. It usually takes me weeks, sometimes months to find the ideal part of the flat that meets all my needs. Sadly, I find myself more often than not preparing the next move by then, having to start all over again.

Two more things that just don't mix are making music and depressions or burnout. Even though this might sound like a no-brainer, almost everyone has come across stories where artists claim that they have had some of their greatest moments with regard to creative work when they felt down, things were going wrong, or they felt like the odds were completely against them. While I don't intend to question their statements or experiences, I can say that it didn't work for me. Maybe that is one of the differences between a real artist and an amateur, maybe the lack of any (serious) addiction to drugs on my side was keeping me from sharing their experiences.

As a matter of fact, the impact depressions and burnout had (and sometimes still have) on me can be best described as living a life with applied handbreak: it takes forever to get into gear, and it doesn't take much to make it all grind to a halt again. I am pretty sure that a lot of ideas never saw the light of day during the last years just because I didn't feel able to get up, power up the equipment and spend a couple of minutes to record the stuff, mainly because just thinking about it did already exhaust me completely. I am grateful that those days seem to be over, and that (temporary) recovery is only a question of time.

After all, I still love music. As long as this doesn't change, there still is hope, and there might be some fresh demos at some point in the (near) future.

And some things just don't mix.

Wednesday, September 14, 2011

Sitting Under The Tree, Part 5

Oh, hello! Welcome! How are you? Isn't it a beautiful tree, with its leaves starting to change their colour. Come on, sit down, don't be shy. Didn't you offer do bring tea and cake? No? Oh, well, sit down anyway. Wait, what's that? Ah, you are checking for news on Twitter. And Google+. Are you going to send an update to Facebook, too? Don't forget to take a picture (not of me, the tree, silly) and send it to Instagram. You are now mayor of what on FourSquare? Anyway.

Over the last years, a multitude of social network services has become available. They offer easy ways to share short messages and pictures with the rest of the word, letting everyone know where we are, what we are up to, what consumes or mind at the moment. They have introduced new ways of getting (and staying) connected on professional levels, as well as on private ones. And while some people can't make head or tail of this social networking bric-a-brac at all, others can't wait to sign up with yet another service of that kind as soon as it is becomes available.

Personally, I really do find some of those services sort of usefull, or at least entertaining, and for some of them I am actually aware of what could be called serious use cases. Maybe it is exatly what confuses so many people: apart from guidelines on how to exchange data and use the interface of the service itself, the providers leave it to the users to figure out how the service could be used, and what it could be used for. It is left to the personal creativity of those who take part in it to shape it the way they think it works best for them.

Now, let's step back, let's try to get a bit more of the bigger picture. It really is an impressive number of services, isn't it? And that brings me to a serious question: can it really be possible to handle all this, is there really a way to actively take part in serveral of these online social networks? If it is possible, what would be a reasonable number of services to use? Is there a number that, when reached or crossed, would render real life activities (work, of course, but meeting people, too) impossible to take part in?

You may interject that there are no universal answers those questions, and I agree. We may work in different jobs, we have (if any) different affinities for online services, and we have developped different ways and preferences on how we like to socialise. Those and many more aspects may influence how we tend to deal with offers like social network services in general, as well as how much time we are willing to invest in this kind of virtual interaction.

Maybe you can remember when everyone was making fun of those "poor creatures" who felt the constant urge to check their e-mail inbox. Fiddling around with something like a BlackBerry in public? What a poser! Actually, we had a lot of fun with those weirdos.

Poser. Weirdo. Really?

No, I am not going to ask you to have a look into the mirror and tell me what you see there. (Hopefully, you would at least see your reflection. If not, well, you may be in trouble for completely different reasons.) But seriously, have a look around you: in the city, on the platform - just think of some public spaces and places. What did you see there a couple of years ago? What can you see there now? People, holding their phones, quite likely, but not only holding those devices up to their head to make (or take) an actual phone call.

Sometimes I get the feeling that, for many people, having access to the Internet, almost everytime and everywhere, is no longer an optional feature, something that is nice to have. Always online, always connected, always ready to interact. Text? E-Mail? Basics for the digital nomads, not even worth mentioning any more. Surfig the Web, updating blogs, watching some videos online? Now we are coming to a point.

Always online, always connected. Constantly looking for more friends, more followers, more updates, more likes. More influence, maybe? Could be. Afraid to miss something? Absolutely! It is all about being important. The news? No, of course not! The people are! Or at least they think they are, entangled in their narcissistic dreams, or maybe just caught in their efforts to receive some respect, respect they think they deserve.

But with all this engagement in networking, sending and receiving all kinds of updates, it takes me wonder how it is possible for, at least some, people to get any work done at all, to have what is called a life? They seem to be on-line 24 hours a day, seven days a week. And then you learn that they have just joined another social network. Why did they do it? Because it is all hip and new and possibly trendy, too?

They have become slaves to social networking. Their minds revolve around the next update. They laugh about all the other ones, who are "parts of the corporate machine". But who are they kidding? Apart from all the shameless self-promotion they are doing, aren't they just parts of yet another machine, the social network machine? And they are so very happy to give away even the last, most private bit of information, just for the sake of... Hm, for the sake of what?

What do you think? Please, feel free to share your thoughts on that with me!

But for now, come on, let us enjoy sitting under this beautiful tree, watching the leaves and listening to the wind. - And you are sure you didn't say you wanted to bring tea and cake?

Sunday, September 11, 2011

All These Scars Are Mine

Personally, I don't believe that there are days of the week or months that are predestinated to be good or bad ones, holding good or bad luck. But I do believe that that life is an ongoing, daily challenge, and while some days are easy ones to make it through, others are quite a fight, from the moment the alarm goes off in the morning, until I finally manage to fall asleep at night somehow.

Don't get me wrong: I don't intend to complain. Far from it! As a matter of fact I know people who would have every reason to to complain, to whine, but most of them don't. No, they just don't do it. I have great respect for them, as every day of their lives is a struggle. I do what I can to help them, of course, but most of the time my humble efforts to support them only make both of us feel worse, but at least they make their lives a bit easier to deal with.

What I find interesting about it is, that while those people seem to have mostly memories of good times and enjoyable moments of their lives, for me it sadly seems more easy to recall situations, days and events that left me with bad feelings. I am aware of the fact that it is mostly a question of the personal mindset. I had the chance to discuss this with psychologists, and they convinced me that this is a sensible way to think of it.

Fighting personal demons means to confront them. It doesn't matter what it is that scares us, it doesn't matter what we are running away from. If we want to bring on a change, if we want to take back control of our life, we have to stop running away. We have toturn around and face what is frightening us. The demons may not go away, but as soon as we know them, as soon as we name them, they become less powerful, less important, and we may get back what could be called inner peace and a normal life.

For me, September has brought to me some of the most significant changes to my personal life ever. Even while I am writing these lines I am not sure whether I really should share this with the rest of the world. Well, if you can read this, my decision was obviously to finish the draft and publish this text, and I am about to share some personal bits of my life with you, which left quite some scars running across both, my heart as well as my soul.

Three years ago my to-be ex-wife had just moved out of the place we had shared for years. That semidetached house became quite a weird place to live in, even more so as I only spent the weekends there. Finding yourself abandoned, facing the remains of what was meant to be a part of the future, isn't the easiest life situation to deal with. To me, it was even harder as I had to clean up the place and prepare my own move, finding myself questioning many of my decisions, again and again. Learning that the significant other had decided to leave me was by far the worst experience I had made so far at that point in my life. Literally watching things falling apart took it to the next level, and I felt sick of life back then. Obviously, I chose not to use a quick exit.

Last year I had just hit the ground, going down in a spiral of what the doctors (later) referred to as burnout. At that point, I didn't expect that it would take me only half a year to get up on my feet again. Only few things kept me going, again I considered the ultimate exit strategy. Luckily, I managed to ask for professional help and support. That I had to give up my job, well, it was an absolute necessity. That I had to move again was an inevitable decision, which I did even welcome. It was one thing to discover that I had reached a dead end in my life; to even start making the needed U-turn was a completely different story. I didn't expect it to work out for me. Today, I am happy it did.

Those incidents were like a slap in the face that made me think a lot. Both were wake-up calls, but somehow I didn't really get up the first time. Thinking and writing about those chapters of my life still hurts. I never seriously considered a relationship ever since, but this may change. I found a new job which I like very much. Taking a step back and looking at my current situation, my life from a distance, I tend to say that things look a lot better now, and I am grateful that I (somehow) managed to get my life back, even though there are some scars left to remind me.

But all these scars, they are mine.


PS: Some of you may have realised it that this post's title is a line taken from the lyrics of a song by INXS, 'The Gift', which is one of my all-time favorite songs.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

Generation "Guidebook"


I have to make a confession: I still buy books at bookstores. Well, at least some of them. But apart from getting some new reading material there, I like walking around and having a look at all the stuff in the different sections. It is quite interesting to see how they change over the years, watching some of them grow, some of them disappear.

I may be late on this one, but because of some conversations I had recently I realized the considerable increase of a specific genre of books. Even though I am not sure whether it actually is called a genre or not, I will stick to that term. So, when you get the chance to go to a bookstore, look around and you will find them quite easily.

I am talking about guides. Guidebooks on this, manuals on that, how-to books on, well, almost everything. We all know the user guides that come with consumer electronic or kitchen devices. Some of you, just like me, have to work through user manuals and how-to guides on a daily basis. But it is not them I have in mind. It is not about guides for any kind of device. It is about guidebooks to different areas of our lives.

They are everywhere, and their number increases every hour, maybe every minute. Guides on building a successful business, manuals on how to lead a happy life. People offering their help to improve our sex life, while others are trying to make us better parents. And while some are showing what they think are ways to simply make us better human beings, others are trying to (literally) sell us a shortcut to attain real enlightenment. Fortunately, there are less serious publications too.

Facing this massive (and continously growing) amount of how-to manuals, guides and companions I am wondering how mankind managed to survive and come this far without them. As far as I am concerned, the mere existence of this vast amount of guidebooks to "everyday life" is what irritates me most.

Of course, we all need some help before we make decisions, and we all need some reassurance now and then whether the path we have taken is the "right one". We consult our family, our beloved and/or trusted ones to obtain some advice, some insight, a different point of view. But have those books taken over their part and role in our lives? Have they become more important, more trustable for us than the feedback of people we actually meet and know?

When looking for advice in those how-to and companion books, aren't we (wrongly) assuming that we are all playing by the same ruels? Think about it. What are the chances that what worked for someone with roots in a different culture, in a different socienty could work for us, too? Have our lives become so exchangeable, are they really that compatible? And more important: have we really become completely incapable of making decisions on our own? Or are we looking to shift responsibilities on someone else by using those books?

Maybe we are simply trying to avoid learning things the hard way. Maybe we are desperately looking for ways to learn things life would have tought us, without going through life's lessons. Maybe we are afraid of making mistakes. Maybe we are afraid of being hurt, afraid to be laughed at. The fear to fail has become quite a driving force. We are trying to make everything perfect, right from the start.

Those guidebooks may convey the impression that there are universal answers to almost everything. But why are there multiple books on the same subject then? Just lean back and think about it for a moment.

Don't get me wrong: I am not trying to tell you that those books are superflous. Far from it. They are a great resource when it comes to getting a different point of view on a subject. They are a good way to share ideas and concepts that seem to work for some. But they don't offer the one and only, the universal solution. And I am afraid too many people think that this is exactly what those books are about.

Have we become a generation that puts more faith in books, theories and second hand experiences than in real life and its unique, personal lessons? Have we become a generation that has lost the faith in common sense and our ability to solve problems ourselves? Do we really need how-to manuals and companion books to live our lifes?

Personally, I don't think so. How about you?