Look at me!

LOOK AT ME!

By David Milligan-Croft.

.

I was cradling you on my left hip;

Absentmindedly swaying from side to side,

As I talked to a fellow parent

In the school playground.

.

Slowly, you reached across

And clamped your hand over my mouth.

Your tiny fingers felt warm and sticky. Then,

Gently, you pulled my head to face you.

.

I looked down into your sparkling eyes,

Your perfectly beautiful face. And,

That was it.

That was all you needed.

.

Adieu 2019.

Well, it’s been an eventful year, to say the least.

I’ve been doing a lot more visual arts this year, so I thought I’d do a month-by-month, blow-by-blow, pictorial representation of my year. (Lucky you.)

Actually, the reason behind it is to see if/how the images/moods have changed over the course of the year. And how that might correlate to my mental health.

As some of you know, I volunteer for an arts charity called Arc, (Arts for Recovery in the Community), which works with people with mental health issues. I am an ardent advocate of the arts as a medium to treat mental health, and wellbeing in general.

Many years ago, I visted the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam and you could see the gradual decline in his mental health through his work.

Whilst I’m no Van Gogh, I am trying to see if there are any similar patterns to my own work.

Let’s have a look, shall we?

And before I forget; Have a Happy New Year and an absolutely spectacular 2020.

JANUARY

Oh dear… that’s not a good start.

FEBRUARY

That’s a bit more positive. Birthday trip to Haworth, West Yorkshire, (home of the Brontes’), with my daughters.

MARCH

Pros: Part of an Arc exhibition. Cons: Became homeless.

APRIL

Ee, it’s grim up north. Charcoal sketch of an L.S. Lowry.

MAY

“Are you sure you’re all right?”

Rehomed.

JUNE

Think I can see a pattern emerging.

JULY

Rehab.

AUGUST

I guess a lot of things are obvious in hindsight.

SEPTEMBER

The road to recovery.

OCTOBER

Signs of improvement.

NOVEMBER

Apart from my volunteer work at Arc, I started facilitating a Creative Writing Workshop at The Wellspring homeless charity in Stockport.

There are always reminders.

DECEMBER

A change of outlook.

As you can see, it’s been a tumultuous year.

I feel very fortunate to be able to experience the last day of it. That would not have been possible were it not for the actions of my dear friend, Siobhan Costigan, over in Australia. Her, and my friends, family, NHS, Stepping Hill Hospital, Pathfinder, AA, The Wellspring and Arc have all played their part in saving my life and helping me to recover. And I thank you all from the bottom of my heart.

As of 31/12/2019, I am 140 days abstinent. I feel completely blessed that I have been able to experience 140 days on Earth with my daughters, family and friends that I might not have been able to. I am truly a lucky man.

I wish you all a magnificent 2020; may the forthcoming decade bring you everything that you hope and dream for.

 

Addendum.

If you, or a loved one, are going through a difficult time, there are organisations out there who can help. Reaching out isn’t a sign of weakness, it’s a sign of strength that you have managed to hold on this far. And remember, if things get so bad, go to your nearest A&E dept., they will take care of you just like any other patient.

The Samaritans call 116 123

NHS call 111 or 999

Alcoholics Anonymous call 0800 917 7650

Love – Things to be grateful for #354/365

Where’d we be without Love, eh?

Here’s where.

Not a pretty sight.

What kind of love am I talking about?

I think there are five basic types of love:

1. The love of one’s family.

2. The love of one’s friends.

3. The love of one’s pets.

4. The love of one’s children.

5. Romantic love.

The love of family, friends and pets are pretty similar in some respects – when, no matter how big a dick you are – they still love you despite all your shortcomings.

True, your friends get to choose you, whereas your family and pets don’t have an option. Still, it’s always reassuring to know that someone is there for you even if it is only a disgruntled pooch.

Romantic love is a biggy. It’s probably the most euphorically ecstatic feeling a human being can experience. (Apart from synthetic drugs.)

It is also the most agonisingly painful when it isn’t reciprocated.

I suppose some people never experience true love. And that’s a tragedy. Some people do, then lose it. That’s just life.

I have been fortunate to have experienced love a couple of times, and I am grateful that I had the opportunity to share that feeling with another human being.

Of course, none of those relationships lasted and some were mind-meltingly painful to recover from. (Or was that the synthetic drugs?) But I’m still glad I got the opportunity to experience that sensation of pure bliss.

Finally, the love of one’s children. I was a very late starter. I had children in my early 40s. And something changed inside me. Literally. Chemically. I imagine it sounds quite odd to someone who doesn’t have them.

I have never known love like it. I would die for them. I would kill for them. Love is utterly unconditional. Non-negotiable.

Of course, they can be little shits at times too. Then again, so can I.

Love can save your life.

When you’re at your lowest ebb, contemplating the futility of existence – it is often the thought of the people we love that can help save us from the abyss.

So, for all of those types of love I am very grateful. I know that if I never experience romantic love ever again, I will always be satiated by the fact that I have the other four. Well, the cat’s a bit shady, so maybe three.

Cherry Blossom perfume

How to make Cherry Blossom perfume.

1. Find a cherry blossom tree.

2. Gather fallen cherry blossom petals.

3. Place cherry blossom petals in a cup and add water.

4. Wrap in clingfilm and leave to soak overnight. (Add other flowers if desired.)

5. Sieve liquid into a vial – voila! You have cherry blossom perfume.

Things I am grateful for #1

My daughters.

By the way, the manly arms behind Scarlett belong to the great, John Mannion. A much loved, and adored uncle, by my girls. And a great friend to me. I hope the Heavens are looking after you, my friend.

Finite – A poem.

Finite.

© David Milligan-Croft.

Empty palm.

Upturned bag, of

Chocolate buttons.

A child’s look,

Of utter consternation.

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