Robin Williams and Depression

The disease that is Depression- for it is a disease-a chemical imbalance in the brain of either dopamine or serotonin, has taken yet another life. For all the publicity this illness receives, it is still vastly and chronically misunderstood. In my experience, when someone uses the word "depressed" or "depression," 9.9 times out of 10, the person using the terminology is having what all of us have once in a while: a bad day, week, or month. That is not Depression, with a capital D.

Depression is debilitating, and one of the reasons it is so misunderstood is that it manifests itself differently for each person. The demons (and every person who has struggled with the disease will use different terminology- in my case it is "demons" or a character, "crazy jack"), appear in different ways.  Yes, there are commonalities, including negative mood, persistent feelings of lack of self worth, lethargy etc, but still every sufferer will describe their experience differently. In my case, all of the aforementioned were true, covered with suicidal thoughts and planning, and a whole body ache that some days meant it took me 10 minutes to get out of bed, and the first thing after that was to take a fistful of painkillers to ease the ache.

Depression teaches you things. You learn about people: some will come at you with what I call the usual tautologies and catchphrases like "think positive," "say something positive, I dare you," "cheer up," and the biggest piece of bullshit of all "it's all in your head, get over it." What, are those of us who have dealt with the illness just supposed to flip a switch??

You will lose friends. That is fact. Don't mourn them-they either couldn't handle it, or they weren't meant to be your real friends in the first place. That is fact.

What is also fact though is that you will find people along the path who will be in your life for as long or as short of a time as they are meant to be, who, even if they don't understand, will empathize, who will guide you to modalities of support that are right for you, and who will provide the encouragement and support you need. In my case, the biggest support networks outside of my "inner circle" of best friends has been in the fitness/crossfit & yoga communities: with "communities" being the key word.

We cannot know what was going on in Robin Williams' head before he committed suicide-if, in fact that turns out to be the case. The word "choice" is bandied about in regards to suicide, as if he or any other mentally ill (yes, Depression is a mental illness) person were standing in a Ben & Jerry's shop choosing cookie dough over caramel chew chew, and debating whether they want gummi bears or sprinkles on top of their ice cream! Many people who are suicidal think they are worthless, or that they are a burden on others- or the pain is simply so bad and they feel so alone, they don't know where to turn. They just want the pain to stop. For it all to be over. Oblivion seems better than a lifetime of pain.

When mental illness still carries such a stigma and such a taboo, that to say you suffer from it is to
risk ridicule and ostracism, is it surprising that people suffer in silence? It sure isn't to me!

It needs to change. There needs to be a serious drive to educate people on what Depression actually is- those suffering from it need to be encouraged to talk about it- to professionals- they need to be able to not suffer in silence, and the idiotic stigmas around it need to fall away. They're not useful. To the contrary, they're brutally dangerous.

I found my way back- there are still days when I look over the abyss. But I now have the coping strategies lined up immediately ready for use- whether it's a phone call or email to one of my best friends, reading one of my favorite inspirational poems, a yoga class, a crossfit session, or whatever. Those who have helped and guided and mentored me have my eternal gratitude, wherever you are,
whether Boston, London, Melbourne and anywhere in between. You know who you are.

Many- as evidence by Robin Williams, do not find their way out. Their demons, tragically, win the day. That needs to change. It can only happen one person at a time.

With that, my favorite piece....

Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul.

Conversations & Stillness.

This first blog post of 2013 is inspired by a conversation that I had on Facebook earlier today. The friend i was in conversation with pointedly told me that I am too much in my own head, asked if i ever let other people finish a conversation and told me that I need to find the stillness in my life. Although the posts were self-evidently written in a loving and kind manner, they brought about an immediate and visceral reaction, which included some tears on my part. It bears emphasizing that the tears were not due to the tone of the comments at all, but due to the fact that they spoke to a deep inner combination of insecurity and fear that still exists in me. 

A huge part of my life has been very dark. There are long periods of my life (specifically my childhood) that i have no memory of ( those of you who are scientifically inclined will know that the brain's memory centre can shut out traumatic periods for protection)
and for the last few years, i have grappled on and off, with serious depression. 

My depression was, in part, triggered by what i refer to as my "Matrix" moment.
Those of you who have seen the film will recall the scene in which Morpheus offers Neo a red pill, and a blue pill. "You take the blue pill," he says, "and the story ends. You wake up in your bed and believe what you want to believe. You take the red pill, you stay in wonderland and i show you how deep the rabbit hole goes." 

Taking the red pill has for me, meant many things. It has meant life-changing decisions. It has meant finding a new career in Yoga and sports massage. It meant finding Yoga in the first place. It meant finding a few new people in my life whom i trust deeply and value deeply.

 It has also meant acknowledging harsh realities about certain people--people whom it would have been easier to keep seeing as i saw them before--with all that such a change entails, and it has meant 5 years of struggle to deal with that new reality. 

A part of what came out of the "Matrix moment," was the realization that for much of my life, I have not really been seen--the real Fabian--has not been seen, heard, or acknowledged by all bar a small group of people...10 of them at maximum. Whether in Boston, Melbourne or London, those people know who they are, and they mean the world to me. Around those people--some of whom were in my life before the "Matrix moment," some of whom came into it, after--i can find stillness, and I have been told that I am more Zen than i ever was before. 

It is with new people that i struggle....

I struggle because the insecurities are ingrained in my psyche so deeply, through years of conditioning, that they come to the surface. A demon pops up on a shoulder...it asks, "are you sure this person sees you? I think they don't. That schmuck is just faking it!" And often, that voice is louder than the better angel of my nature that sits on the other shoulder. 

I don't mean disrespect or rudeness when i talk over someone--or don't let them finish the conversation...i come from a place of insecurity of being unable to quite trust that they have heard or seen me. I know that can make me difficult to chat to, for people who don't yet know me well, and it is something that I am working on....

The struggle for stillness is equally difficult. I often can't sleep at night because my brain won't shut up. The demon and the angel chatter away in very loud voices. I find yoga classes without music very difficult for the same reason, and I can't meditate without having a classical adagio or self-hypnosis playlist going on, to distract and quiet my mind. 

At times...and the last half of 2012 and early 2013 are one of those times...this struggle is overwhelming. Seeing how deep the rabbit hole goes, and the struggle that comes with it is physically and emotionally draining in ways that are impossible to put into words. 

That said, two of my goals for 2013 are to overcome further those insecurities, and to be able to find what TS Eliot wrote of as "the stillness the dancing." 

Ruminations on Yoga & BBY

I don't know whether its just me...or whether every yogi is the same in regards to what i've felt myself going through the last couple months. In May 2012, I completed a YTT course. Since getting back to London, i've barely practiced at all--and NOW, my body feels it. Before YTT, yoga was something for me--something entirely spiritual. I knew, intellectually, that the physical benefits were there--the increased flexibility, the increased muscle tone.

I knew that the side benefits were there (sorry ladies, but yes, it is a good distraction to see the human form in all its beautiful expressions and shapes!). But the benefits for me personally in yoga were, as i said mainly in the spiritual. Many a yoga class would find me with tears streaming down my face as i moved, or during Savasana.

Yoga was one of the things that helped me overcome depression and to confront, deal with, and move forward in regards to many of the issues that those of you who know me well understand that i had/have in my life. Since the YTT course finished, i have found that I'm unable to quite view Yoga in the same way. I guess you could say that it has become too "intellectualized."

Yes, intellectually, i know the benefits for me--but now there is just too much other yoga related info floating around my brain for me to switch off. The intensity of the course and the depth of the information provided--while obviously beneficial, was overwhelming, overloading. As a result of that, I have the feeling of not wanting to teach--at least for now--I need to rediscover the love of yoga for myself.

The second issue i have found is that of connection: I came to yoga at a time when my depression was at its peak--i could barely move...I could barely get out of bed in the morning...I was a zombie on every level one can imagine. And then....Back Bay Yoga and 2-3 amazing teachers (Nicole, Ame, Goldie) loaded with compassion, humour, gentleness of spirit came into my life. The minute i walked into that studio, i felt like i was home. I call it my "Jedi Temple." I have never taken a class there and not felt healed, opened. I have never left BBY without having shed some tears, laughed at myself while falling out of a pose i find challenging, or been hugged or smiled at by a bunch of random people.

Spiritually at least, Back Bay Yoga is home for me.

Now i've moved to london--i've experimented at a few yoga studios--they're nice enough, and people are friendly enough--but something is missing...and i wonder whether it is me--or the studio...or a combination. Is BBY just something so "one off"--at least for me that it cannot be repeated, or am i not "open enough?" I don't know the answer............I guess I am left with saying "BBY is Jedi central," but i need to find an offshoot locally......here's hoping......

Music & Me

Those who know me well will know that I'm a music nut. While I can certainly see the genius and beauty in paintings or photography, I've never been someone that can take 2, 3 or even 4 hours to wander through an art gallery, or someone who can spend 20 minutes looking at a  single painting. I just don't get that--and I'm just not built that way. Again, that doesn't mean I don't respect and admire the genius of the great painters and their work. It just means that my soul is touched by sound, more than it is by vision.

I'm not dogmatic. Buddhism speaks to me the most: I do believe in a higher power, but don't believe whoever he/she/it is, should be labelled as Jesus, Allah, Jehovah, or whatever other term man has invented to differentiate one from the other and to make his god better or more true than another man's. Music is where I feel the divine in humanity.

I used to have very one dimensional taste. U2 and a few other acts like REM and The Eagles used to be about it. Gradually, through friends, and through becoming a bit more open-minded, my tastes broadened. Now, there's classical, there's hip-hop, there's grunge, there's heavier rock like Rage Against the Machine, and there's Bruce....who I got into because my great friend Jenn has a (not so) secret crush on the man.

Most albums have at least one song that gives me goosebumps. At U2 concerts--or any other concert, there are certain songs where I will pull my hood over my head, close my eyes, not interact with anyone and just let the lyrics and chords flow over me.  Usually, those are the songs that have a particular emotional tie, or they are songs that gave me some hope when my depression was at its absolute worst.

When I'm out and about, I've usually got headphones on, and a playlist can send me through the whole gamut of emotions in the space of how ever many songs are on it. I will feel elated, melancholic, emotional, joyful...and on...and on....You get my drift. And yes, there is even a "fabs is pissed off, and needs noise, don't bloody well talk to him now" playlist.

There is a great line in the movie "Amadeus," where Salieri, Mozart's competitor and fictional assassin is close to death, and making what amounts to his final confession to a priest. Salieri describes the first moment he saw and heard Mozart's music, stating that "this was a music I had never heard...filled with such unfulfilled longing. It seemed to me that I was hearing the voice of god."

That is a quote that describes what music does to me....and who could fail to agree, who could fail to feel some kind of emotional tug when they hear a coda as stunning as that in the link that follows:
Music like this demonstrates the power of the divine in us all:

Shakespeare had it dead on when he wrote: "The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not mov'd with concord of sweet sounds, is fit for treasons, stratagems, and spoils."

Equality & Controversy

So, today I'm going to be controversial. Yesterday I went to the Australian Open tennis. I went to 2 matches at the Rod Laver Arena (Centre Court) and saw one women's match and one men's match.

Now, the Open programme mentions that the women receive equal prize money to the men. Interesting. Why do i say interesting? Well, to me the word "equal" implies getting compensated the same dollar amount for the same hours of work. If I lay bricks for 60 minutes and a woman lays bricks for 60 minutes, we should get payed the same amount. That is the meaning of the word "equality," at least as far as I am concerned.

But in tennis, that clearly is not the case. Consider this:

In grand slam events, ie; Wimbledon, US Open, French Open and Aussie Open, the men play best of 5 sets. The women play best of 3 sets. In yesterday's match, Serena Williams finished her match in under 60 minutes of playing time.

Then Lleyton Hewitt came on court--and in the same amount of playing time (60 minutes) they had just barely completed 1 1/2 sets. The match went to 4 sets. I left after 3 sets and they had been going for about 90 minutes of playing time. I walked home. It took me about an hour. Every bar i passed on the way home they were still on court. They finished just about at the same time as i got home around about 11.30-12. In other words, 4 sets took them about 3-3 1/2 hours.

This is not inconsistent for men's tennis. There have been monster 5 setters that have lasted 5-7 hours.

I've looked it up-so the statistics in this paragraph are not my own--they are official. According to the ATP (association for tennis professionals), in their 2011 statistics covering the 4 majors, the average time for a ladies final to take at a Grand Slam event (again, best of 3 sets) is 90 minutes. The average play time in the same event (best of 5 sets) for men  is 240 minutes.

240/90=2.666. So the men play on average over 2 1/2 times as long than the ladies.

Lets add in the additional factor of the actual prize money. The prize pot this year for the Australian Open is US$2.3 million to each winning  singles finalist So you're a lady, and you play at  a 90 minute final. You win. You take home $25,500 per minute played. You're a man, and you play the average 5 set final, taking 240 minutes. You win. You take home a little over $9,500 per minute. Again:

Ladies winner: $25,500 per minute for 90 minutes work.
Men's winner: $9,500 per minute for 240 minutes work.

So: on the per-minutes played basis, as well as on the number of sets played basis, women's prize money now actually more than doubles what the men take home.

How, in anyone's world is that "equal" labour?

Now, this is not to deny that the ladies don't put in the same amount of preparation--workouts, practice sessions, travel time etc, etc as the men do. But in professional tennis the prize money is for playing and winning tournaments.

I could be cheeky here and add the following fact, again from the ATP: men's tennis (in the finals) have higher TV viewing figures and in general, higher actual attendance figures. Most people would rather watch Federer/Nadal/Djokovic etc, than Stosur, Williams, etc. So men's tennis also brings more income into the tournaments (at least at the 4 majors) than ladies tennis does.

Equal prize money in my book therefore, at least at the 4 majors should never have happened. There's not going to be a backward step in reality. Once you've given "equal" prize money, you can't take it back again.

Its now skewed the other way. Sorry ladies--but this aint "equality." You want "equality"? Fine. Start playing best of 5 sets. Then we can say things are equal.

Hope & Loneliness

The turn into 2012 has led to a little rumination on a specific subject. Lately, I've been feeling very lonely. I am in a far away country, thousands of miles away from what has become my spiritual home at Back Bay Yoga in Boston, thousands of miles and multiple time zones away from the people who mean the most to me.

In the summer of 1997, someone told me that I would be lucky in life if I could find just one handful of people that I would trust 100%, whom I could call upon in an emergency and know for a fact that they would be there when needed, who would have my back no matter what. I have had such luck. I've 6 such people.

That's not to say I don't have other friends--whom I care deeply about, including some wonderful people in Melbourne--but those 6 know everything there is to know about me. They know my fears, my secrets, my hopes and dreams, and they know that I would also drop everything for them.  The 6 are the only people who know me with absolutely nothing held back. I hope others reading this don't take offence at that fact.

Yet the loneliness that I feel is not the loneliness of friendship: cliched as it may sound, it is the loneliness of romance. I feel envious. Envious that many of the 6 "inner circle" and others of my friends have found someone special. Someone they can wake up to, snuggle up to: the last face they see at night or the first face they see in the morning. Someone to hold and to be held by.

I'm not a serial dater. I don't jump from girlfriend to girlfriend. It takes me a while to get over heart-ache, and I don't give my heart easily.  That being said, I feel like I'm over the last one now....and I'm ready to meet someone.....You all know that I love T S Eliot's poetry and that his stanza, "the faith, the love and the hope are all in the waiting" rings true to me....But right now....I wish the universe would just get a fucking move on!

Back To Blogging & Reflections on 2011

I basically dropped off this blog for 4 months. Things got a little hectic in the last quarter or so of 2011. Courses got intense, I went through a bit of a down time, and well--life kind of just moved too fast. I've just come back to Melbourne from a 2 week sojourn in the USA, and the trip has set a bunch of stuff running around my head. 

Being back in Boston was an emotionally and spiritually fulfilling period, even though it only lasted 4 days. I was able to catch up with old and important friends, and practice some yoga at my spiritual home. I felt, in those 4 days, as though my gas tank was filling up again.

I got to thinking how important it is to be in a city or a place where you are near the people who mean the most to you, where you feel spiritually nourished, and where the heart feels at home. On reflection, this means that Melbourne is not home.

From a personal perspective, the Remedial Therapies & Yoga courses here have given me a new lease of life--people around me here and those who saw me in the states, claim to have seen significant emotional growth. But Melbourne has one massive and key downside: Australia is in the middle of butt-fuck-nowhere. It takes 18 hours to get to the East coast of the USA. It is, simply, too far from my spiritual homes and the core "Fabian's Jedis" group that is so vital to me. 

So here's my decision: I won't be staying here. Yes, I have met some wonderful people here--whom I hope to be life long friends with--and they know who they are. But I don't feel "at home" here. 



I stand by my decision to leave Boston and come here. I had gotten to a point there, where i was emotionally and spiritually stagnating....I was in a massive rut, and I was not happy. My relationship was on the verge of tipping into death throes--if it hadn't already done so, and I felt lost. I needed to go somewhere completely different. I have grown emotionally here--because I have been way, way, way out of my comfort zone--and I needed to be out of said comfort zone--I never had been before.

It has been emotionally challenging and at the same time, draining to be here. Some aspects of my self-care, including my fitness have suffered because of the energy that has been needed to maintain sanity in the midst of this emotional challenge....and we all know that Fabs is an emotional eater.

But I feel lighter now that the decision has been made. So...4 months left to go. So my resolutions for 2012 are to figure out where to end up, whether the UK, mainland Europe or North America--nearer to those dearest to me; to maintain this blog, which is so cathartic for me;  to let go of a few things i still need to get shot of, and to get myself in the best condition of my life by the time i leave.

I'll see you all in 2012. Love and Peace to the Jedis. Again...you know who you are.