Depression needs a new name

This piece was written by my good friend Jane. I convinced her to let me publish it here. It is unedited.
Just read Deborah Hill-Cone’s piece on Charlotte Dawson. I’m not linking it – it is vile click bait and one of the more despicable opinion pieces I’ve read.What is really fucking me off about the reportage is that circumstances and events are purportedly to blame for her death. Twitter trolls, ageing, financial and personal insecurity, abortion have all been trotted out as the reason she took her own life. And yes, these things contribute but not the root cause.Depression. I think we need to find another word for it. Depression is too kind, soft, like a slow exhalation of breath. It is anything but that. It’s a neverending chasm, the further you fall, the less light there is. It can gradually build or it can fucking slam you unawares. Sometimes there’s no time to ‘reach out’, no time to reason with yourself. Other times, you can see the signs, be kind to yourself, find help. But mostly, you’re just scared of not coping, being seen to be not coping.

I don’t know Charlotte Dawson but from what I have read about her, she was ace at holding other people up, putting others’ needs before her’s and generally fighting the good fight. What I can also extrapolate is that this took a heavy toll. Some people can help others and leave it behind at the end of the day. I don’t think she could. You can become a vessel for other people’s distress and emotions, hanging on to them and eventually drowning.

Depression is a killer full stop

 

The holiday house

Sometimes, I think ( I know) that the issue of domestic violence, and the work we’re doing at the Refuge, are very scary to people.  How can you help? What can you do?

Remember this: violence is scary. These women are not. They are ordinary people, like you and me. Some of them have had rough as gut lives, some of them have not. Some of them have known nothing but violence, some of them are surprised by it.

Either way, whatever way they get into Refuge, by the time they get there, they’re ready for a break. And that’s what the Refuge provides for them. A break away, a respite, a rest before they start their new lives (or in some cases, resume their old ones).

And a rest is as good as a holiday. A’s kids call the Refuge the holiday house. Because they go camping every Christmas, they associate the building and the way they’re living in it, with holiday cabins.

That’s a pretty great thought, isn’t it?

Because it kind of is like that. It’s communal living, and there’s these large grounds with big beautiful trees, and an amazing playground. There’s other kids to play with. So I guess for some of the kids it is like being on holiday (and also people give them stuff, so it’s also like Christmas quite a lot, which is pretty remarkable, you must admit.)

It’s not a scary place, and these aren’t scary people. They are brave and beautiful people finding their way through, or discovering for the first time what it’s like to have a bit of peace.

I won’t sugar coat it. Things need doing around the place, and they’re getting done, bit by bit. But overall it’s somewhere you can find a cup of tea and a sit down quite enjoyable.

It’s not exactly Club Tropicana but it’s not Colditz either. So go ahead, become an Aunty and find a bit of joy where you thought there might be none.

Just like at a holiday camp.

Inaugural #twitteraunties meeting – 15 February 2014

Yesterday, a group of people came together to celebrate being Aunties. Not Aunties in the traditional sense. These people care about women and children they have never met. I hope to change that somewhat. That having been said it’s largely a relationship that appears to have one side.

I can assure you that it is not.  The women that are the benefactors of  your graciousness and kindness are appreciative beyond words. Every thing, every gestures, builds them up. Kris and I make sure they know that is true.

And no one is more an Aunty to these women and children than Christina Teikamata, the Refuge co-ordinator, and Karen, and Trish who work there too.  She loves her “mummies” and seeks to do all she can to provide for them whilst they are there, and when they leave she is there too.

So what we are doing is reinforcing Christina’s efforts. Providing an invaluable base of support and resources, from which she can draw when needed. (Which is every day).

And so to last night’s meeting. I was pretty stunned at the love in that room. Poor old H1 and H2 were a bit embarrassed ( H2 said “that was AWKWARD”) but also heartened and inspired, lifted up by all that love and encouragement. And also the knowledge that other people have been where they are – people who are not poor, who are not brown. People who’ve done it, and they can do it too. People who assured them that this is the first steps to their new life. A life without violence, a life where they get to love themselves, and choose who shares that life with them, reinforced by more knowledge about what’s possible, and what it means to be safe, in all senses of the word.

The people who came to the meeting offered a range of skills, which they may not be aware they have. At the moment, we’re all feeling things out. What needs doing, and what does not. What works, and what does not. And as Christina said, if something doesn’t work, we just need to tweak it.

These were also people who are very brave – none more so than H1 and H2 who were pretty anxious about the whole thing. Having said that, I felt it was important that those who want to be Aunties have more than a passing connection with people they are helping. So that you can see that this is not a thankless effort, that people are being touched and affected, by what we are doing. That connections being made is about reciprocity, about understanding that this is not a one way street. Being so involved with the Refuge, for me, has helped me in more ways than I have helped them, to be sure.

To ensure those connections hold, and are strengthened, Christina and I want to make the meetings a monthly thing.

The first mentoring sessions – for women who have left Refuge – are on the 20th and 27th of February.  Two weeks afterwards, we will have the next Aunties meeting. I hope you can be there, and add your voice to the growing army of us who seek to speak for these women and children at a time when they cannot speak for themselves.

M’s story.

When I published the other womens’ stories, stories in my own voice, M was really disappointed not to have had the opportunity and said she would like to write something for you all to read. To impress upon you why the Refuge is so important, and to give voice to those you are all helping. 

She wrote it a while ago, and I only just read it this morning. Sitting next to her, at the dining table at the Refuge, I cried for her. And she cried for herself. “I know” she said to me. “It’s ugly”. We read it side by side, and hugged each other. This may not affect you as personally because you don’t know her, but I want you to hear her voice. It’s an important one.

So here it is. M’s story, or at least a small part of it. In her own words. (And I didn’t pay her to write the final paragraph…..).

 

Hello to everyone,
 
I am writing about my story from a woman that has been scared, treated like a slave, all my self esteem taken away from, beaten till I was black and blue, but also out of all the terrible things that have happened to me, I still have lots of love.  Sometimes I use dto think, why me and my  5 children, but someone said to me one day and recently, when is it going to stop?  So I had the courage to leave and came to the Refuge.  
 
I was scared and very unsure what I was doing but in time I got to know the women and started to open myself and started to trust in people that wanted to trust me.  It actually hit me more when there was other stories at the refuge, and I realised I wasn’t alone in this big wide world of ours and we surely take things for granted.  I am healing and still hurting inside but in time I hope, no I know, I will over come this.  Without the help and support of the wonderful Women’s Refuge and the support of the public, I wouldn’t think we would be survivors today.  I also would like to thank  the women that are in the same situation’s as I. Because of the night talks and crying we all share, I have made platforms of strengths that encourage me to say, “I am superwoman.”
 
I also would like to thank my superwoman and angel, Jackie.  I can’t go a day without thinking about this lovely soul.  I feel so blessed and fortunate to know and have this wonderful person in my life.  She has guts and this personality that in time I will have.  She shows strength like she can kung fu you and man you mess with her, look out…..hahahhaha and she has a dog to prove it.  She works so hard and I want to be like her.