Depression and Crafts

I have avoided many times when writing my blogposts about real life and how depression effects my day to day activities.  I have often thought about consistency in my life that has never really changed and since the age of 10 I would say it is 'crafting'.  As a child I was taught to crochet and you know what kids are like, it gets put down for a few years and then you pick it up again.  I can't quite remember when I did pick it back up.

My Mum died when I was 7 leaving my Dad to bring up 9 kids, the youngest being 2 and the eldest being 18 and all of a sudden our world was turned upside down.  We all got split up at the time and 3 of the youngest kids went to stay with my Aunt & Uncle in Chelmsford for 6 weeks, 3 of the kids went to my Aunt & Uncle's in Peterborough and then the eldest kids stayed home to help Dad with the funeral.  I will never forget going back to my primary school and standing in the big porch that we stood in when it was raining at playtime and a friend Carol said "where have you been" and I just said "My Mum died and we went away for a while".  It's strange how little things like that you can remember.

We did not have much growing up, new clothes and shoes were never an option and it was always hand me down's from neighbours or from jumble sales.  The house was not clean and I often cringe about that and as we all got older, the house got worse.  Dad ruled with a hard hand at times and let's just say he was not a nice man to me and my sister.  As far as he was concerned we got fed and that was about it and if it wasn't for my Aunt & Uncle in Chelmsford we would not have had Christmas presents.

The neighbours were great back then and we were often given bits and pieces and one neighbour in particular who Dad referred to as a Gypsy lady would visit now and then with a big black bin bag and  it would have second hand clothes and shoes.  One particular day we were given a load of paper and it was yellow but of course, I wanted white paper to draw on so Dad would tape the paper to the sunniest window and it would bleach white.  Wow!  So I use to spend hours upon hours in my bedroom drawing.  That is where my creative side started kicking in again.  I could copy a picture from a comic but not freehand drawer from my mind.

As time went I started crocheting again and knitting, I think it was my Aunt in Chelmsford that taught me to knit but I can't quite remember.  When I got my first wages after leaving school I bought a load of acrylic yarn and wanted to make my eldest brother Alex a jumper and of course, I loved every minute of knitting it and when I gave it to him the bloody thing wouldn't go over his head.  I was so disappointed and did cry but he took it home and did not see it again until many years later when his wife showed me their new home and in the wardrobe was Alex's jumper.  He had kept it but never wore it.

As I got older and started my career I then got married and had 2 boys and in that time my depression seemed to hit quite bad.  My anxieties got worse as the kids reached milestones of schooling and my husband was in and out of so many jobs that every day was becoming a struggle.  To this day I do not know how I got through those years.  My husband back then was a heavy drinker and smoker and he had got a job in a store called Rumbelow's which use to sell fridges, freezers etc and he brought home a cross stitch kit to cheer me up.  So that was when I got addicted to that and the little bit of yarn I had got put away in a drawer.  Then a few years down the line I started patchwork and quilting and would go around the charity shops and look for bits of fabric in the cheap basket or I would cut up old clothes.

In 2010 something happened and I decided enough was enough, I had been working up to 7 days a week trying to get by and my husband was getting worse with his drinking. I got divorced after being with him since 1986.  My youngest son was going down the wrong patch and I was not coping with him and getting no support from my ex and I just sunk, sunk into a robot kind of figure.  While I was at work I tried to be chirpy and jolly and by the time I got home in the evening I would sink and cry and run out of steam.

The one thing that I only ever did to keep my mind normal as possible was to do my crafts, I would work on projects like blankets just so it was a long term project and it would focus my mind.  I would start little projects that I could take to work with me and do in my lunch break just so I could try to relax.  It is like weaving the yarn into your worries and anxieties and hopefully, getting it out of the head and into something that is beautiful and creative.

Even now today I have woke up wanting to go to work but I just could not bear stepping out the front door.  I get terrible palpitations, hot and sweaty, shaky and light headed and just cannot face the world outside which is why I am writing this.  I thought it might make me feel a bit better.  I am taking medication for my depression and over the past 6 months I have weaned myself to a lower dose but sitting here today, thinking about consistency in my life and what helps is my crafting.

Every day I craft, if I could spend my whole day at home I would.