State of Play

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I’m staring down the rabbit hole of my depression and I’m scared shitless. I don’t mind admitting this. I have been in touch with my Community Mental Health Nurse and I have in place the support I need to keep me safe. Within an hour of me texting her this week, she phoned me back and we have been in regular contact since. I cannot express anymore than I have before, how much I appreciate the professional support I receive from our NHS mental health team. However, no matter how caring the folks are, at the end of the day. my keeping well is down to me. This rabbit hole is a familiar one and this time it’s a particularly dark one. I have an urge to express myself and write about what I’m experiencing. I have a sense this may help me work my way back to the bright, colourful sunlight of the summer. Thank you for taking the time to read this and to hear me out.

The warning signs were there a few weeks back. I noticed changes in my thinking and how I perceived myself and how generally my mood was slowly beginning to diminish - I was losing my spark. The contentment I had been enjoying in my life was being eroded to be replaced with increasing thoughts of self-criticism and self-dislike. “It’s a blip” I told myself. “I can expect my mood to dip from time to time.” So I decided to sit things out and wait for the beginnings of this deepening gloom to shift. After all it was early summer, the months of May and June which are my absolute favourite months of any year. It is when the fecundity of Nature and life, which abounds during these weeks inspires in me a sense of joy. Indeed, there was a long period when all my stars were in alignment. I was engaging in what I love most in life, immersing myself in wild nature and in turn I was rewarded with some truly incredible experiences which reinforced my hard won conviction that life was worth being around for - to be lived at its fullest! There was entering Fingal’s Cave in my kayak on a perfectly calm day. Sitting alone with the early summer Puffin arrivals on the island of Lunga, enjoying my human solitude and my companionship with the wild life around me. Then there were the three days of exploring the Small Isles in my kayak when I was privileged to encounter a friendly and exuberant pod of dolphins just below Ardnamurchan Lighthouse, the film footage of which went viral and propelled me into a short period of recognition from around the world. It seemed then that I was reaping the rewards of steadily speaking of my connection to Nature and how this helps my mental health. I met the dolphins again about a month later and again their obvious enjoyment in swimming alongside me in my kayak captivated nearly 200 000 people on Twitter.

In these early weeks of the summer months my life was as joyful and unencumbered with depressive thinking and feeling as I ever remember it being. I truly believed recovery from my depression was within my grasp.

Now, in the space of a few weeks this bonhomie I had been enjoying with myself has evaporated to be replaced with a self-loathing so fierce, it has taken even me aback. To explain this self-loathing a little. It’s literally looking in the bathroom mirror and hating my reflected image. Not how I look (though I do see myself as a complete shaggy disaster), but the face of a man who I dislike immensely. I’m a person who rarely takes against people, in general preferring to see the good in most, but in those rare moments when I do, my dislike is fierce and uncompromising. Right now, I am the person I most hate in the world.

No matter what positive messages I receive from those who love me and who are my friends, I only hear what I believe is unsaid - criticism of who I truly am. The man in the mirror who I hate is a fraud and this man is me. I talk of Nature being healing and yet I do not allow this to be true for myself. I’m good at talking the talk and because of this I hate the sound of my own voice. So much so I choose to speak as little as possible to prevent me hearing the words uttered from my mouth. Most of all though, I hate who I am and who I have been. I look back and see a swathe of errors of judgement, mistakes, wrongs committed on others, hurt, pain, slights, deceptive inauthenticity and general misdeeds. A recent visit to my family down in England served to reinforce many of these thoughts and beliefs, after all, I consider myself to be a total embarrassment to my family who deserved (and continue to deserve) so much more from me.

I think by now I am making my point. I dislike myself intensely.

The odd thing with all this is that there is in within me the knowledge that all the self-hatred I’m experiencing right now is untrue. It is my depression which is causing me to think like this and as I so often tell myself, this period of intense discomfort will pass. I will come through to the light again and begin to realise the good within me and my capacity to positively touch the lives of those around me. Somehow though there is a corruption of my positive synapsis’ and instead any thoughts of hope are diverted and quashed. This is where I wish I could describe this in greater clarity. There is within me a battle for supremacy, my depression over my authentic healthy self. It is not that I see myself as a ‘poor victim’ and need saving by anyone who wants to save me. Far from it, I seek the support I need and accept this is an internal battle I must fight myself. However, this can be exhausting - literally so. It takes considerable effort to remain coherent to the world around me while at the same time internally fighting feelings of alarm, fear, self-hatred and desperation. Quite literally, I ache for the time to go to bed when I can take my dose of Zopiclone and ease myself towards the relative haven of unconscious sleep. Only this respite is fleeting because I normally wake again in the early hours to a rush of disturbing thoughts.

When I started this post, I said I was scared. I am frightened of being really ill again. I do not want to be so ill I end up in hospital again and yet, I crave the release suicide would give me. I am thinking of my suicide and consider seriously the benefits my death would bring for me and those who I affect through my tumultuous way of living. I wrote a blog post in 2018 about my relationship with suicidal ideation which I think expresses with some clarity what I face with this - here. It is sufficient to say I’m fearful where my thinking about suicide is leading me at the moment. Basically, I’m so fucking tired of fighting this illness, I ache for the release my suicide will give me. Death will be so absolutely final, and while this is the reality, it is an incredibly attractive one.

However! And yes there is a however. There is within me a notion of self-preservation which is why I reached out to my CPN and asked for her support. I’m prepared to trust myself to the professional help available to me. Additionally, as much as it may seem so through what I have written so far, I have not given up and I continue to function, even to the point of continuing to make jewellery, one thing I find gives me a sense of purpose and a level of internal peace. Admittedly, I have Transglobal Underground playing loudly on repeat through my headphones to distract me from my thinking, but each day at 5pm I close my work-shed with some sense of accomplishment.

This then is the chink of hope, even if at the moment I cannot see hope or even feel it. After all my desire to do the things I normally enjoy such as walking and kayaking have completely disappeared, replaced with a self-incriminatory lethargy. One thing I know is to work within these chinks as they appear, to appreciate them and to accept every opportunity towards recovery they offer. Right now, creating wearable art is the one thing which is offering me positivity in the midst of the descending blackness within me. I notice as I write these words, there is a recognition that not all is bleak, and despite what I might believe to be true, I am not totally useless. Finding my way into making a small living from my creativity is proving to be more than I could have ever hoped for.

This Week’s Production

So, what now? I am here and I’m not ready to give in. I hate where I am right now (within myself that is) and I am desperate for respite from this. At the moment I am safe and I make assurances to remain safe. I have more than enough cognitive resonance to understand what I am living through at the moment is pretty tough but this purely is due to my depression and will ease over time. My fear of sinking further into my depression is real and exists and this leads me into the tangled web of it all. It’s like untangling a hopeless knot of string - there just seems to be no solution or end to it all.

Please don’t be overly concerned for me. The fact I have written this and shared it so openly is an indication I am positively working to overcome this particular bout of severe low mood. Thank you for reading what I have written and please know I truly appreciate all the generously warm comments I receive here and on my various Social Media platforms.

I sincerely hope what I share is of interest and help to many.

Thank you.

A Dose Of Road Rage Exposes My Fault Lines

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After eleven hours on the road, albeit a smooth enough 685km (428m) journey from the lovely Herefordshire market town of Ross-on-Wye, I indicated left and turned off the busy A82 into the short lane which led down to the Corran Ferry slipway. The queue of traffic already waiting for the short ferry crossing was almost to the top of the road and I saw I would have to pull in tightly to the rear of the car in front of me to allow other vehicles following me to join the queue. I noticed I should really make my way into the three overspill queue lanes but my access to these was blocked by the car in front, I could reach them without mounting the rough grass verge. Since the ferry had just arrived and was discharging its load, I surmised the queue would soon move forward as our vehicles were subsequently loaded.

The first vehicles off the small ferry were two huge yellow Highland Council road works vehicles, the front one of these obviously containing molten tar because of the signs to be aware of hot liquid the other loaded with grit. These two trucks pulled up to the junction with the A82 and looking in my mirrors I could see a large queue of traffic had formed because of the ferry queue spilling onto the main trunk road. This is the moment I realised it was up to me to move into the overspill queue lanes to ease this pressure but couldn’t do so without mounting the verge. Suddenly feeling indecisive I faltered and hoped the queue ahead of me would soon begin to move as cars were loaded onto the ferry. Looking in my wing mirror again I saw the driver of the first Highland Council climb out of his cab and walk with purpose towards our car. His face was thunderous and I knew with a sickening swoop in my stomach he was about to confront me.

In a matter of seconds he was on our car, thumping furiously on the roof and slapping my driver’s window, all the while screaming at me to “Move my fucking car into the overspill lane! - You fucking cunt of an idiot!” His rage was uncontrolled and for a brief second I wondered if he were about to wrench my driver’s door open and haul me out of my seat. He didn’t of course but he did move round to the bonnet of our car, continuing to thump on the bodywork and scream abuse at me.

Now, I am no wall flower and I have a temper too. In these split seconds my rage surged with indignation and with our eyes fiercely locking I flashed two fingers at him and shouted back “Fuck off you wanker!” No sooner I had expostulated these unhelpful words, Karen calmly suggested I calm myself and do as he was saying. It all happened so fast. I managed to pull our car up onto the verge and drive into the overspill lane but no other cars followed me so I stopped. As soon as I did this, this bulk of a man bore bore on our car again, his bunched fists readying themselves for more than thumping our body work. I prepared myself to get out of the car and face him, such was my anger too. I knew I wouldn’t have stood a chance in a physical confrontation but I’m not fearful of such things.

Suddenly the traffic queue began to move off smoothly and with a look of surprise (and maybe it was disappointment) the raging Highland Council roads operative turned away as I re-joined the queue. The ragefully angry situation was over and traffic was running again.

We were silent in the car, Karen thoughtfully allowing me to fume in silence as I brought myself down to a relative sense of calm. A few minutes later we spoke and both agreed that the man had been unpleasant and needn’t have been so aggressive in pointing out to us that it was our fault there was a queue of traffic forming. As is my wont, I mull experiences like these over and wonder what I could have done differently. It was obvious I should have not dithered when I saw the need for us to drive into the overspill queue lane and I ought to have forced my way through. Doing so would have set the precedent and the traffic stopping queue would not have formed and the Highland Council employee would not have become enraged, I berated myself for my indecision and concluded I had been at fault and suitably chastised myself.

The journey home continued without incident and after just missing the the ferry from Lochaline to Fishnish on Mull, we were home in Tobermory an hour later than planned. The whole journey had taken twelve hours and I was bushed.

Fast forward a day or so after this event and I find myself in an unhappy state. I’m indecisive and my thinking is overly self-critical. I have little goodwill to show myself and I ferociously berate any silly mistake I make. My general mood is low and I find myself cogitating over recent mistakes and a general sense I am simply not good enough. This self-belief of being a useless individual is pretty much a constant in my life. Recently through wonderfully successful therapeutic support I have come to understand more about this belief and its falsehoods but it is deeply ingrained and it doesn’t take much for it to dominate my sense of being.

We had spent the previous week with my parents which was a lovely family event. It was wonderful for us to spend time together after the deprivations of shared contact for over 18 months due to the pandemic and we were royally hosted as is my parents’ wont. I gave up thinking of my waistline and acceded to the offers of platefuls of good food and copious glasses of beer and whisky. The problem with me though, is I find it very difficult to see myself as being someone of worth and most certainly I believe myself to be an inadequate son who has let the family down. I won’t list my litany of perceived failures here, suffice to say, I feel dreadful much of the time when I think of the opportunities for different pathways I let slip by me and deep regret with some of the choices I instead made. I feel deep shame a lot of the time.

Now, you mustn’t imagine I live my life outwardly morose, always opining my sad lot in life. Quite the opposite. These self-critical views I hold on myself are largely masked and I successfully present myself as the cheeky chappie, devil may care, adventurous son, brother, uncle and dad that my family often see me as. Admittedly during this last week, this veneer has been fragilely thin and a few times I let my mask slip and presented myself as an easily injured individual, but on the whole, I think I kept my fragility intact and certainly out of sight.

Now I am home, I find myself fighting off a deepening bout of gloominess where I begin to hate myself and all that I do. I sense depression beginning to loom and I notice I’m thinking of suicide again. I’m certainly not at the level where I fear for my safety, but I realise my thinking is drifting in this direction. I have strategies to combat this deepening low and I have a ‘safe plan’ which I willingly refer to when I find my mood noticeably dipping. Generally a good dose of ‘Nature Cure’ is all that is required to set me back on track again. A few nights away camping and exploring with my kayak works wonders. However, I’m at a point where I find it difficult to allow myself the ‘luxury’ of getting away in my kayak. You see, I’ve been away for a week, I’ve not created any jewellery and I’ve not made any sales. I have to work and work hard! After all, I can see I’m not very good at what I do and I need to get better through hard work and determination. Do you see how easy it is for me to criticise myself?

Writing this has helped me. In doing so I have faced many of the negative beliefs I hold about myself and understand these to be manifestations of both my depression and my unfair self-criticalness. However, I find myself going back to one moment in time and angrily telling myself - “You should have pulled into the overspill lane and then none of these feelings of crapness would be happening!”

“It’s your fault!”

“You are a useless individual!”

So my story continues. My recovery from my depression is not straightforward, no matter how ebulliently I may present myself. I’m in a constant flow of self-query and self-awareness. The general direction is one of happy positivity and as I write those words, I know this to be true. It’s just sometimes my negative self becomes dominant enough to remind me of where I have come from and where I might end up again if I do not take care of myself.

I am determined this will not happen.

World Mental Health Awareness Week - Saturday - Real Self

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I often state, “When I’m in the outdoors, I can be my true self.” It is true I am most comfortable with myself when I’m in my kayak out the sea or wandering the wild hinterlands. This is why I attach so much importance on my connection with the outdoor realm to my mental health recovery process. I believe I gain greater insights into who I am and how I can move beyond my discomfort when I’m outdoors than I ever do in the more normal aspects of my lifestyle. I remember once being challenged by a therapist during group therapy when I stated this. He wanted to know why it was I could be ‘myself’ out doors and not ‘myself’ at home or anywhere else. At the time this intervention stumped me.

#1

Many folks are familiar with the psychological concept of the ‘true self’ and the ‘false self’ and may have seen this theory explained in a variety of forms. Because I find my relationship with the outdoors to be a simple one, I like the simplicity of this concept. There is no point for me to analyse the process any more complicatedly than need be. It follows, I am happier with myself in the outdoors than I am in more regular settings. Therefore, when outside I am who I truly am. I return to my core individuality, unencumbered with various strategies to cope with a life where I expect myself to be viewed in certain ways. The simplicity of this concept is best described through Diagram #1.

This is my interpretation of the concept. The inner circle denotes ‘My Self’, who I was born as and who my core attributes are. This is the me without the impediments I employ to enable me to exist in the manner I do. From a very early age I began to adapt my personality to meet what I perceived was required of me, or which helped me feel the most comfortable for my existence. This ‘Adapted Self’ is denoted by the outer circle in the diagram. The adaptations of my personality are not the true Nick. For example, I have a tendency to want to please people, not to disappoint them, and to do so even if this means I feel unhappy doing so. The pay off for me doing this will be what I think to be recognition and it is this psychological reward I am seeking through my behaviour. Delving further into this particular example, I may become self-critical of my perceived lack of being ‘good enough’ if I believe I’m unable to please others or I think I let them down. What is happening, I’m searching for this outer circle of my existence to be soothed through my adapted behaviour rather than feed my true self, my core, with genuine responses to my genuine capacity for compassion, kindness and generosity. In fact my outer circle is so powerful, it prevents any genuine recognition for my core capacities from getting through meaning I will forever be self-critical.

When I am outdoors however, my relationship with myself is far less complicated. Out ‘there’ so to speak, I do not feel I have to adapt myself to relate with the natural world. Nature will never judge me and indeed has no expectations of me other than who I am. Within minutes of paddling from the shore, away from the normality of my onshore life, I feel the weight I place on myself dissipating and the many masks I wear drop away. In doing so, crucially, the relationship I have with myself becomes less fraught and noticeably less critical. I continue to mull things over in my mind and of course I replay many memories where I’m unhappy with my conduct. However, in these I am able to rationalise them without laying huge amounts of blame on a personality I dislike and wish would disappear. As Nature does not judge me, neither can it forgive me. This is what I do for myself. I can achieve this balance though with Nature’s guidance, where my immersion in the natural realm feeds the healthy psychological hungers my core self desires.

#2

In Diagram #2, there are six psychological hungers as determined by Eric Berne, the originator of the Transactional Analysis Psychological Theory of Personality. Again there are variations on a theme with this particular theory and this is the one which makes sense for me. In fact, this particular model is at the forefront of my mind when I’m contemplating the processes at play when I’m outdoors. The key word when describing these psychological hungers is, healthy. It’s possible for these hungers to be addressed through unhealthy responses which will not feed into my true core but only serve the outer circle and sustain the critical view I hold of myself. Sometimes I may not be aware of this differentiation and follow a course of action where I feel I am healthily meeting my core needs but end up harming them.

  • Contact. This hunger is determined by Berne to be our human need for physical contact, our healthy desire for touch in whatever form this may be. Hugging, caressing, a kiss, handshake or a simple pat on the shoulder. Through this healthy contact our sense of identity is enhanced. Of course, since much of my time outdoors is enjoyed solo, I do not have others around me to fulfil this for me. However, I have determined Nature is a perfect substitute. Through the physical contact I receive from the wind, the waves, the rain, the sun and sounds and smells, I gain a strong sense of my identity with a realisation I am human and there is an importance for me to receive physical contact.

  • Recognition. This refers to our psychological need for healthy acknowledgement from others. Again, although much of my outdoor activity is conducted in solitude, I enjoy being recognised because of this. I recognise myself as a person who is comfortable with my alone-self where solitude is a healthy aspect of who I am. It is helpful for me to have this validated by others who respond with warmth to my accounts of my solitary outdoor experiences. Likewise too, when I do share the outdoor realm with others, I receive recognition for the ease with which I am related with in this environment because of the ease I am with myself.

  • Incident. This is the hunger which feeds our healthy need for a frisson of excitement in our lives. This is a strong reason for my propensity to seek adventures in the outdoors. I knowingly seek risk and challenge because through these, I feel alive. I do not set out to place myself in harms way where my life will be at risk but the challenge is such that there is a perception this may be the outcome. It is always the case I assess these risks within the context of my personal ability and skills. At a very basic level, living with incident in my outdoor life enables me to move beyond my comfort zone to where I learn more about myself.

  • Stimulus. This is the healthy fulfilment of all our senses being healthily aroused and soothed. It goes without saying being outdoors assails me with myriad stimulations which feed my senses of sight, sound, smell, touch and taste. Nature provides all of this without any cost to me apart from my investment of my time and energy.

  • Structure. There is a psychological requirement for frameworks within our living which provide a sense of purpose and meaning. Nature provides me with the natural rhythms of life which I easily form into a structure within which I exist. From sunrises to sunsets, the times of tides, the seasons and other more subtle considerations such as weather lore. I choose to frame the structure of my time so it fits with the natural order and by encompassing this, I am able to achieve the personal goals I wish to attain. When I’m on a long kayak journey, the structure of my life is entirely natural, determined by my understanding of Nature and my non-combative relationship with it.

  • Sexual. This is the natural healthy fulfilment of our human desire for procreation and pleasure in doing so. We are sexual beings. Nature is awash with procreation, displaying a vibrancy for life which is joyously inspiring. As a human male, I am forever reminded of my own sexuality when I am in the outdoors and my capacity for passion and romance. This psychological drive is not only completed through the act of copulation itself, but through a healthy awareness of my desires, my ability to love, to experience passion and to enjoy sensuality. All of these can be fulfilled by my awareness of the fecundity of the natural world.

My recovery from depression is best served when I healthily address my psychological needs. I know how do to this when I venture into the outdoors. The experiences I enjoy ‘out there’ provide me with innumerable metaphoric anchors with which I’m able to reference when they are needed most. I have a healthy and vibrant relationship with Nature where I’m not judged or where I overly judge myself. The benefits for me in undertaking regular meaningful immersions in the natural world are tangible to say the least. Equally the outcomes from these are helpful within my relationships with others, in particular my wife. By regularly gaining insights into the healthy core of me, I am more at ease with who I am.

As stated in my previous blog entry, this journey is far from complete. What I am certain of is my fundamental relationship with my healthy ‘Self’ when out in Nature. By embracing this and transferring this awareness to my life outwith Nature, I will develop the ability to live more from my core being rather from the perception of the protection of my outer circle, my ‘Adapted Self’.

The story continues to be written.

"Solo"

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Tomorrow my wife Karen is going to put me out on ‘solo’ and I’m both excited and nervous about the prospect.

I once worked as an instructor for Outward Bound in the UK and Southern Africa. The twelve years I spent with this remarkable charity informed so much of what I understand of humanity as well as delineating my aspirations for a life well lived. Briefly, Outward Bound is an international charitable organisation (nearing its eightieth anniversary), which primarily provides personal development courses in the outdoors and through outdoor activities. As the name Hoover is synonymous with vacuum cleaners, so is Outward Bound with outdoor personal development training. Those of you who know me will understand how firmly my attitude towards living is anchored in the humanistic precepts of Outward Bound, originating as they did from the great educationalist, Kurt Hahn. Google his name and I hope you’ll agree with me that much of the philosophy he espoused in the mid-twentieth century is as relevant today in the twenty first.

Outward Bound courses by their nature, provided myriad opportunities for powerful personal insights for the course participants. One of the privileges of my life work were hundreds of notable moments when I facilitated significant new awareness for individuals or groups, knowing they would embody this for the benefit of their futures. The ‘mountains speak powerfully’ and through many outdoor challenges, people came to realise the limits they set themselves were eminently flexible - outwards. Witnessing this occur so many times, is a strong reason why I seek this process for myself when I undertake my kayaking journeys or other small adventures. I have come to the conclusion that the outdoor personal development process develops resilient self awareness. Resilient because the metaphors are powerful enough to anchor the moment the awareness came to light, for continued future reference.

A key element of the traditionally long Outward Bound courses (three weeks in length), was the ‘Solo’. Here, the course participants would be individually placed, out of sight of each other, in an area of remote wildness, where they would spend 24 to 48 hours on their own. They would have the means to construct a rudimentary shelter, have basic food rations and all ‘luxuries’ would be taken off them. No books (apart from notebook and pen), no cameras, nowadays no phones and no watches. The purpose wasn’t to elicit individual survival skills but to provide a rare opportunity for contemplative solitude. It is highly uncommon for us in our lives to enjoy total solitude without any distractions. We often think of ourselves alone but in the background there maybe a television, a radio, and these days our phones and the internet. Somehow or other, we are permanently connected to a modern pace of life. Even during my long kayaking journeys when I may be alone for three to four days, I am still connected through online activities, texting and informative sources like my radio. It was hoped for the participants, the removal of everyday distractions would provide a somewhat challenging experience of enjoying solitude - aloneness.

Solitude - the glory of being alone.

The solo took place mid-course when the individuals were now aware of the personal development process and would have the opportunity to test new awareness out after the solo during the latter stages of the programme. Invariably, the notion of complete solitude was alien to most and a great challenge to many. It certainly wasn’t an activity we could take lightly with plenty of emphasis on safety and the emotional well being of the participants. However, it was the element of the long course programme I enjoyed facilitating. Listening to the excited chatter on the night everyone returns from their solo told me all I needed about the importance of this powerful personal development course element. Of course, not everyone enjoyed the experience. There were often quite a few who decided to make their way back to the base before the allotted time was complete. Each individual would be placed in a suitable spot to create a shelter and shown the defined boundary of their solo site. The importance of remaining within this area was pressed on them and they were instructed to return to the base if they felt unsafe or unhappy and not to seek out other participants, thereby breaking their solitude. If time was given by the instructor into establishing a meaningful reason for the activity and framing it so it held relevance, most if not all participants would embrace the challenge.

As an instructor, solo was a time of rest. It was welcome down time from the rigours of delivering a high energy course. In Wales, we would link the solo with the middle expedition so in the end five days and nights were spent out of the centre. We would arrive at one of the four wooden cabins we used in the expansive Dyfi Forest from the expedition to find trayfuls of solo rations and other rewards. For the instructor there would be our solo bag where we would have put our books, our Sony Walkman, or other little luxuries we would treat ourselves to while our group was out on solo. After placing the individuals out, all that remained was a leisurely 24 or 48 hours where we went and visually checked on them three times a day. The rest of the time was ours. When the time was up, we would collect each individual, chat to them about their experiences and send them on their way back to the base where a huge fry up breakfast was being prepared. The following hours would be given to eliciting awareness through hearing each person’s story and what insights they may have gained.

I remember feeling a level of envy at the end of every solo I delivered because I had never experienced what they had just completed. I had never been on my own for that length of time without my watch and rudimentary kit. As I have said, I am used to solitude but not total solitude. This is an experience I have yet to encounter - until tomorrow this is.

With this dreadful pandemic gripping our nation and the subsequent curtailing of activity, it’s not possible for me to sea kayak to the islands I have wanted to bivouac on. It struck me that in a way, through our social isolating, we are undertaking our modern day solos and really, this will be a wonderful opportunity for me to undertake my first and probably only, proper solo experience. Karen will walk with me to the secluded location I have chosen close to Tobermory and leave me there for a full 48 hours. Two nights and two days. When the time comes, she will walk out and collect me. I will follow the rules I set the participants on my courses; no watch, no camera, no reading book, no modern gadgets, basic shelter, basic rations, sufficient clothes and a note book and pen.

I am both ready for this and reticent too. I’ve conducted my own risk assessment with regard to the state of my mental health. I am entirely confident I will be OK and not detrimentally suffer from my solitude. I know and trust myself enough to return home if this waivers. I have no desires to complete my suicide. I will be safe.

I will write up my experience here on my blog when I return. See you in two days time. :)