The Thursday Guest Blogger - Darren Goldsmith Part 2

Welcome to this week's Thursday guest blog, an occasional series of discussions, opinion pieces and reviews. This week, another well-written, heartfelt and searingly honest guest post by writer, musician and artist Darren Goldsmith.

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At the end of 2006, I fell ill. It was my own fault. Too many late nights, not enough sleep, not eating properly. Stress at work. We’ve all done it but I took it to the extreme… then out the other side. And kept going. On average, I’d been getting about 10-12 hours per week. Yes, you read that correctly. Per week. And I did this for about 6 months.

At some point, no matter how strong you feel, no matter the few hours of kip (or calories) you think you need, your body will decide to do something about it. In my case, I collapsed. Nervous exhaustion. Everything hurt. Even my hair. My body felt battered. My vision was blurred. I couldn’t speak properly. Couldn’t think straight. Understandably, I was pretty worried but stupidly assumed I was just ‘a bit run down’. I thought a few days’ (a week at most) rest would solve it.

After said rest, instead of feeling better, however, I felt worse. On top of everything else, I started to experience dizziness, light-headedness and feelings of disassociation. The doctor checked me over and said it was probably some form of Labyrinthitis, even though I wasn’t presenting classic symptoms. She gave me a prescription for some pills to nullify the motion-sickness and told me it could take up to 3 weeks to clear up.

Part of the problem is I worry about my health. I always have. Not the physical pain stuff - I can handle that just fine - but wooziness, dizziness, light-headedness… call it what you want, that stuff freaks me out. So, I took the pills, which made me feel more nauseous than I was before and 3 weeks later nothing had changed. I started panicking about my condition.

I’ve suffered panic attacks since I was about 5 years old (that’s another story). Not the general feelings of dread or worry that a lot of people call panic, but the hyperventilating, chest pains, think-you’re-going-to-die sort. Awful. And they can come out of the blue, even if you’re feeling OK. In the last ten years, I’ve managed to crack it and I can prevent a full-blown one occurring. During this period, however, with no reserve of energy to draw on, they were coming thick and fast.

I’d wake in the morning, dizzy and sick. Weak. I couldn’t stand without feeling I was going to fall over. It was like being on the deck of a boat in stormy seas. I’d hear screaming in my head. My own voice… unintelligible shouts. I had typical symptoms of disassociation - not feeling as if I was ‘here’ or that anything was real. Everything looked and sounded wrong, like I was underwater. Days and weeks of this. Not able to work, not able to function properly at all. It then stretched into months. Besides work, I couldn’t maintain any kind of social calendar. My friends dropped off the radar. I became agoraphobic and avoided social situations. Not because I was scared of the outside or people, but because of how dizzy those situations made me feel. All the things I’d taken for granted, like walking in a straight line… driving, watching TV (especially fast motion), pubs, restaurants, train journeys. None of those things were possible, without some violent adverse reaction.

To make matters worse, I’d checked up on my condition online. Trust me. Never. Do. This. I became convinced I had contracted something fatal or near to it. A brain tumour, Ménière’s disease… multiple sclerosis. All the horrible ways in which the body can break down and fail. The symptoms were identical, you see. Or so I thought.

I had umpteen tests. All of which came back negative. I was put on beta blockers to help keep me calm but they only made me feel even stranger. A specialist performed yet more tests and I had a brain scan. He told me the only reason I was feeling this way was stress and anxiety. There was absolutely nothing physically wrong with me. He gave me some exercises to do, which helped me with my balance. After an evaluation with a psychiatrist, I had sessions with a £200 per hour psychologist. And entered a period of enforced rest. I didn’t think any of this was working at the start but, gradually, over the course of 8 months or so, I started to feel more human. I stopped thinking I was going to die. I recovered.

For a period of two years after, I felt good. I still had the odd wobble here and there but nothing serious, nothing lasting. Then at the end of 2010, as a result of trying to get a novel written, I got into the same bad habits. Now, no one in their right mind would have done that to themselves twice, right? But that’s exactly what I did. I overworked. I didn’t sleep. Didn’t eat properly. Perhaps I thought, having gone through it once, I had become immune or something. I’m shaking my head in sheer disbelief while typing this.

So, for pretty much most of 2011, I suffered the same symptoms. However, this time I was determined it wouldn’t stop me getting on with my life. Despite feeling utterly horrid, I did manage to carry on pretty much as normal. Knowing that rest was essential, I made sure I got some. Because food was essential (who knew?) I ate properly. I tried to attend more social events and so on. Stress and anxiety were still high though and the dizziness and disassociation were still very much present. After another round of doctors’ appointments, I was sent for some further counselling. To be honest, I wasn’t confident this would work. I’d got it into my head that the way I felt, especially since all my symptoms had come back, was now a permanent thing.

The counsellor, like the psychologist before, used a method called Cognitive Behavioural Therapy, or CBT, for short. If you Google this, use the long form otherwise you might find sites that offer… erm, therapy of another kind altogether! Anyway, I didn’t feel the sessions in 2008 with the psychologist had been that successful - my recovery was glacial, and didn’t appear to be inline with any of the treatment – so I wasn’t expecting much from this new batch. Imagine my surprise then, when after the very first session, I felt better. It’s hard to describe. I knew (and it had been explained to me) that I had a long and bumpy road ahead to full recovery but somehow I felt… lighter. For the first time in several years, there was actual relief, as opposed to suppressed anxiety and false hope. I have no idea why this counsellor worked when I felt the psychologist didn’t. Perhaps it was because I was more receptive to the treatment at that point. Perhaps how she conducted the sessions just clicked for me.

As expected, it did take several months but I was discharged at the beginning of 2012 and have felt great ever since. I do still get the odd day when I don’t feel quite right (who doesn’t?) but, as a result of the therapy, I now have a set of tools that I can use to counter symptoms of stress and anxiety. I won’t go into the specifics of the treatment here, not because it’s private - because I’m perfectly willing to share if anyone asks - but because if you feel you might benefit from this kind of therapy, it would be much better to speak to your GP. And I’ve already written far too many words.

There’s a stigma surrounding mental health. If you succumb to any one of the number of issues, it’s perceived as a weakness, rather than an illness. Even some of my friends… those I considered to be good friends, reacted strangely (and badly) to what I was going through. I’d like to think this post helps dissolve some of that stigma but I suspect not. It’s hard to understand something you can’t see or haven’t experienced for yourself.

If you are experiencing mental heath issues, anything from anxiety/panic attacks through to depression, please… don’t feel alone. Don’t feel embarrassed. Speak to a professional. The route back to feeling better may be hard and long but there is plenty of help available.

There are two things I’d like to sum up with. One is that although I’d paid for the psychologist in 2008 (via a work insurance), the latter CBT sessions in 2011 were available completely free on the NHS. I couldn’t have afforded this treatment, as it happens, so I find it very hard to hear of essential services being closed down or that our wonderful health service may be carved up. What will happen to those, like me, who aren’t able to pay for healthcare?

The second is another thank you to my wonderful wife, Hayley, who was an absolute rock throughout the whole thing. I hate to think about what I put her through. I could see the distress and pain my illness caused. Yet she was, as always, wonderfully balanced and patient. And full of good humour. And love.

Cheers,

Darren
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The content of guest blogposts do not necessarily reflect my views (although they often do) and are the views of the writer alone. Fancy being the next Thursday guest blogger? Drop me line at stevyncolgan@mac.com or tweet me @stevyncolgan.

The Thursday Guest Blogger - Darren Goldsmith

Welcome to this week's Thursday guest blog, an occasional series of discussions, opinion pieces and reviews. This week, it's writer, artist and bass player for Thomas Dolby, Mr Darren Goldsmith. Enjoy.

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I have observed the reaction to the success of E L James’ ‘50 Shades of Grey’ with fascination. Can’t say I’m surprised, however. I’ve been around a bit and I’m big enough and hairy enough to know how people can behave. For the most part, this is nothing more than sneering and snobbishness.

I do wonder how many of the nay-sayers have read it. Not many, I suspect. At least, not more than a passage or two, to confirm what they already know; this is a terrible book, terribly written. How can it have sold so many copies? I blame the hype. Etc.

I’ve not read it either. It doesn’t sound like my cup of tea. But I have no problem – none whatsoever – with the author’s success. I wish her only the best. Seriously, has she killed someone… or dined on kittens? Perhaps people are so enraged because this is the death of literature itself?

Right.

In a conversation on Twitter yesterday (which I backed out of), I made a comment that people liked the book and it made them happy. It doesn’t really go any further than that, does it? Sure, a large percentage of sales will be down to curiosity, based on the news of its success, but that’s how hype works, folks. I understand the book was already selling thousands of copies before the media got a hold of the story anyway, hence their interest in it. But if the concept of hype puzzles you or annoys you, you might need a reality check. Or more time away from the internet/TV.

OK, perhaps the book is badly written (I have no idea) but so what? Really… so what? For the people sneering (mostly writers, I have observed), how the hell does it affect you? It’s probably safe to assume those who read ‘50 Shades of Grey’ are unlikely to be in the market for your work. So don’t worry, your ‘tightly plotted prose’ and ‘brilliantly realised characters’ are perfectly safe. And the book isn’t dragging the publishing industry through the mud, is it? A single book isn’t going to topple (or significantly boost) an industry that’s going through so many changes right now anyway.

E L James was rejected by agents and publishers alike when she first sent the manuscript out. She invested her own money in editing and a decent cover, and word of mouth (the best hype there is) did the job instead. Now those same publishers want a slice. This doesn’t necessarily mean the industry was mistaken regarding the book’s quality, or the author’s ability, but they sure as hell were wrong about what the public want.

One responder to my ‘people like it/the book makes them happy’ comment stated yesterday that she would prefer people to be happy reading better material. Fine. But perhaps those who read ’50 Shades of Grey’ will make that very decision for their next book. They might not. They may never read another. It’s not up to us to judge or enforce.

Another responder claimed my argument was shaky, saying ‘heroin also makes people happy’. What the f**king f**k? I understand that heroin (up to a point) makes people happy… but it’s not harmless. Far from it. Books about soft porn/erotica aren’t addictive and don’t kill people.

Anyway, this last response was why I had to back away from the conversation. My cousin, who would have been 40 this year, died of a heroin overdose when he was 19. I only wish he had been into something as innocuous as ‘50 Shades…’

Keep quietly creating, folks. Don’t sneer. It’s beneath you.

Cheers, Darren.

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The content of gust blogposts do not necessarily reflect my views (although they often do) and are the views of the writer alone. Fancy being the next Thursday guest blogger? Drop me line at stevyncolgan@mac.com or tweet me @stevyncolgan.

Guest Blogger - Darren Goldsmith

Too much of a good thing can be a bad thing. I mean, look at my waistline. And, to utilise another cliché, a change is as good as a rest. So, how about we have an occasional respite from my wittering, blathering and general verbosity? How about me hosting a guest blogger once a week, say, on a Thursday? What a good plan. I like that idea.

So, to kick us off, here's the first guest post by novelist, screenwriter and CG artist Darren Goldsmith. Enjoy! Oh, and if you want to be next Thursday's guest blogger, tweet me (@stevyncolgan) or mail me (stevyncolgan@mac.com) or despatch a carrier pigeon or trained racing newt. I'd love to hear from you.

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Hello, Darren here. I don’t have a blog of my own so a million thanks to Sir Colgan for the loan of his, for the next 581 words.

After a mini-Twitter debate today - regarding those who find themselves unfollowed and their subsequent reactions - I just wanted to bang some thoughts down. Normally, I wouldn’t bother. I’m busy writing my second novel and that occupies most of my time. I’m taking a week off however, to recharge, so typically I find myself writing other stuff. Yay.

Right. Social media. I’m no expert and I don’t suppose anyone else is either. We make what we will of it and that’s all fine. By the way, I’m referencing Twitter here. I don’t use Facebook or… um, are there any others? Anyway, I replied to a tweet about people being unfollowed this morning. The guy who posted it (utterly lovely man, great writer, has many followers) said:

“Whenever I see someone asking someone else why they've unfollowed them, I become more fearful that Twitter will dissolve into neurotic gloop.”

I guess Twitter might do that. But it probably won’t.

I responded by saying that I thought it was OK for someone to ask why they had been unfollowed. There is the infamous Twitter bug which will randomly unfollow people on your list, for a start (it’s happened to me many times), so it’s nice to know if someone has dropped off without you noticing*. Also, is asking so terrible? The askee might gain some valuable insight. Or not.

The argument is that someone asking why you unfollowed them puts you, publicly, in a corner. I guess it does, to some degree, but so what? Tell them the truth. Or lie. Or tell them nothing. But you can’t expect every person you unfollow to shrug it off. No, you can’t. Some people just won’t. Sorry. That doesn’t make them mad or needy or neurotic. They could just be curious. They could have thought you were getting along just fine and be confused or yep, even hurt, you unfollowed. They could just be having a hard day.

Obviously, if they are being whiny, slap ‘em down. No one wants that shit.

The other argument is that unfollowing someone is not personal. I hate that. Twitter is social media. It’s about people, not data. It’s personal. There are degrees, naturally. You’re not going to be best buddies with everyone in your timeline. If someone I had chatted with regularly decided to unfollow me, I’d like to know why. If someone followed me and then didn’t engage, even infrequently, I would wonder why they followed me in the first place (frankly, what I have to say is mostly shite). I certainly wouldn’t worry when/if they decided to unfollow. I wouldn’t have known them, see? It wouldn’t matter. Degrees.

Yeah, I know the original tweet was about the whiny bastards. I just thought I’d make a case for those who weren’t. People like me. Not that I’ve ever asked anyone why they’ve unfollowed. But I might.

In the case of the original Tweeter, he doesn’t follow me. Never has. It doesn’t stop me chatting with him and making a nuisance of myself. And hey, he can never unfollow me.**

Are you happy to unfollow and not provide a reason (if asked for reasonably)? Do you get a bit miffed or upset if you’re unfollowed? I’d like to know what others think. Comment away!

Many thanks, again, to Steve for the use of his space.

* Yes, it’s possible not to notice, especially on a busy timeline.
** He might block me though. And bloody right, too.

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So there you go. If you have any comments, please add them. Or maybe you don't have a comment on this subject but would like to say something on another. Maybe you don't have a blog of your own but would like to get something all off your chest. Whatever the reason, contact me. New guest blog next Thursday. You could be next.