There were setbacks, but overall the year of our lord 2015 was a positive 12 months of self discovery.
The original TARDIS console in the Doctor Who Experience, Cardiff. (Image copyright: Robert Fairclough) |
I re-read the blog I wrote summing up 2014 before
starting this and I was struck by how straightforward and optimistic it
sounded. Looking back, I can see I was on a bit of a manic high after deciding
that I was deserting London. The beginning of this year couldn’t have been more
different: coming back after the Christmas break and getting down to the nitty
gritty of how much equity I had in the house, I realised that I couldn’t
actually afford to move (embarrassingly, after I’d told everyone I was going to.)
In January and February, London was the last place I
wanted to be. I’d had enough. Back in the dreary cycle of job searching and
signing on, I went into a depressive slump and before you could say ‘bipolar’ I
was lying on the sofa all day watching box sets of House and 24, sometimes going
back to the beginning after I’d finished one and viewing it through again. It
was moving wallpaper that blotted things out. If you’re really feeling low, at
its worst London can be so anonymous you can disappear; sometimes I didn’t see
anybody for days. One plus point, though, was finding a new lodger to pay the
mortgage, who, after the horror story of last year, confounded my expectations
by being a nice guy who kept himself to himself. There should be more ex-monk
pastry chefs in the world.
When I’d been depressed before, the mental health
charity MIND had been a great help. So, with the mortgage taken care of, I
asked for their help again. It was a bit mechanical and I had to force myself
to start with, but weekly walks in local Danson Park, as well as participating
in the upkeep of their community garden every Friday in Bexleyheath, really did
help. They also found out for me that as a sufferer of bipolar disorder, I was
entitled to a Freedom Pass on the trains and buses, meaning that, once I had
it, it didn’t cost me anything to travel around the capital. Before I got it, I
think I went into London just once every month and only used the bus every two
weeks to sign on: imagine what that does to your mental health.
It makes me furious at how much mental health
services have been cut back and MIND are
overstretched, but what they offer is an essential lifeline for people who
often don’t have anyone else at all to turn to. Once I felt I was coming out of
my slump, I wanted to give something back. Consulting MIND again, the ideal
place appeared to be the Centrepieces Mental Health Arts Project, based in a
corner of the beautiful gardens at Hall Place country house, where I started as
a volunteer in April.
Some of the Centrepieces gang. (Image copyright: Robert Fairclough) |
Well now. Discovering Centrepieces was a turning
point in two ways. To begin with, in a creative environment I was familiar with
– painting, sculpture and photography – I felt at home and gradually more
confident, as I was able to use the skills I’d learned as a graphic designer
and writer to streamline their database of artists, include a visual record of
every piece of artwork and, more importantly as far as I was concerned, bring
their online presence up to date with a blog I oversee and edit. It isn’t false
modesty to say that when the duo who run Centrepieces, Geoff Norris and Dawn
Tomlin, started telling me what an important contribution I was making, I didn’t
know how to react. Social and emotional isolation can do that to you.
Rob 'n' Dawn. (Image copyright: Dawn Tomlin) |
The other big turning point this year was going into
a relationship again. Me and Dawn started going out in June. We see a lot in
each other that’s similar, with a history of similar mental health issues, but it wasn’t
easy at first. Dawn has two children – Rose, 15, and Poppy, 8 – and at first I
ran a mile emotionally. Starting a new romance after so long was a challenge,
but one that involved kids… We broke
up for a while, but still had to work together at Centrepieces and remained cordial.
Almost inevitably, I suppose, we tried again and this time I stuck at it. Dawn
said something to me that I often think about, about not ‘hiding away and
rotting’ (which is where I came in this year with the House and 24 marathons).
It’s pretty scary how easy it is to get into that frame of mind. Thank God she
shook me out of it. Now, after two holidays up in the old home town of
Lowestoft – one with the girls, one without – with the combined values of our
homes it looks like we will be able
to relocate to East Anglia, as Dawn fell in love with the place when we
visited.
I seem to have acquired a family. I’d never have
thought that at the beginning of 2015.
****
Full-time work has remained elusive. For someone who’s
done as much as I have, who hasn’t had one single interview resulting from
LinkedIn, my website, blog or the months of job searching I’ve done in Blackfen
Library, it’s something I’ve thought about a lot. Leaving aside the obvious
drawbacks of being too old, over qualified or lacking current skills – and I
did a 12 week course in web design at City Lit University this summer, which
seems to have made bugger-all difference – I’ve concluded that HR departments
are the problem. When I started my career, you applied to the person you were
going to work with and they interviewed you. Now, before your application reaches
your potential colleague, it’s vetted either by a computerised points system or
an HR checklist and if you
don’t measure up exactly, you’re in
the bin. I can think of a few jobs in the past I wouldn’t have got if the
modern system had been in place. This is another reason for leaving London –
after nearly two years out of work, what have I got to lose?
So, work this year has a combination of the voluntary
and creative, both of which have been rewarding. As well as Centrepieces, I’ve
been volunteering in Blackfen’s Ellenor hospice charity shop (the vivid Saturday
morning chats with the stand-in manageress Tracy are always a highlight of the
week) and Blackfen Library; the staff jokingly said I was in there so much I
might as well work behind the counter. I liked it. If things do work out as we
want them to, I could quite happily enjoy a full time, community-driven role such
as a librarian, as long as I have time to write. I’ll miss the Balckfen girls,
even more so when the library goes into private hands next April – one of the worst
decisions the local council has ever made.
One of the other constants this year had been my
writing. Even on my blackest days, if I
can put my finger tips to a keyboard I feel better, and that’s been one reason
for continuing with this blog. Professionally, mine and Mike’s new book The Callan File: The Definitive Guide to the
Classic Spy Franchise is finally done and we’re taking in corrections and
comments from our read-through crew at the moment. The publication of that next
year is one major thing to look forward to, not least because Mike has
dedicated it to his fiancée Zoe, who we lost to leukaemia this year. That was
such shock: she was only 46. One of the most beautiful pieces of writing Mike
has ever done was the eulogy he put together for Zoe’s funeral. He’s a very
talented, humane and funny man and I’ll always be proud to know him.
Daleks in Cardiff! (Image copyright: Robert Fairclough) |
My Doctor Who writing
has gone from strength to strength, and for that I’m indebted to Marcus Hearn,
who edits the The Essential Doctor Who and
Doctor Who Magazine Special Edition publications.
In 2015, I’ve written for TEDW: Monsters,
TEDW: Davros and Other Villains and The
Doctor Who Magazine Yearbook 2016. Even if I wasn’t convinced by the series
itself as much as I was last year, I always enjoy every minute of researching and
writing about it. When I had to interview Doctor
Who’s Supervising Art Director
Stephen Nicholas in November, I jumped at the chance of visiting the Roath Lock
studios in Cardiff. Even though production had shut down for the year and most
of the studios were empty, it was a once in a lifetime thrill to walk through the
hallowed halls where so much television history has happened, not to mention
stand on the TARDIS set. During this whistle-stop trip, I discovered that I’m a
very good photographer. Although in the end none of the photos made the
article, I’m delighted that it’s another skill I can develop in the future.
****
Looking forward, and I am, there’s always more to
do: I could drink less, get fitter, be less grumpy and less inclined to slump
in front of the TV if I’m feeling down. I’m always saying I could do more, and
Dawn’s always saying I don’t give myself enough credit for what I have done.
Starting from such a bleak place at the beginning of the year, I realise I have
come a long way, certainly more than in 2014. Life’s not just about having a
decent job and doing what I want any more, but about how rewarding having a
social conscience, doing something for others and being part of a family can be.
Dawn says I’m a natural at it. That’s one of the
biggest compliments I’ve ever had.
Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.
A good end to the year, by the sound of it! Good news. I live in Erith. Fancy a pint one night?
ReplyDeleteRob, you're amazing. Having mental health issues myself, I get a lot of what you've written in this entry.I applaud you for being so open about it, too. I wish you all success in 2016. You have achieved so much thus far, and you deserve the best :-)
ReplyDeleteAll the best, from Mike's Aussie "email-pal", Saz (Sarah)