Ear affairs

If I had to choose one body part, the one which has given me trouble ever since I was a baby it would have to be my ear. I remember dreading Fridays because Fridays were ear-ache days. And no I don't think it was really by suggestion as I didn't yet know all about the psyche. Or maybe I did. I was a smart child you know, really smart. How modest of me at half eleven in the evening. So what's causing it again? I have a hunch it's my wisdom tooth which every now and then decides to inflict a wicked kind of pain; the pain when you cannot even turn your head without hurting. Why my ear, so small, cute, really an attractive ear as ears go. I think it's a top model ear, too bad I didn't get a top model butt, but then we don't always get everything in life. So maybe I got a top model ear, nose, brain... well I didn't fare bad. And I think I'm also winning the biggest boaster on blogspot too at this rate. Anyways, what did my ear do so bad to ache so much? I have to admit it's heard way too many things, mostly way too many notes out of tune, and no those notes were never mine, but more likely out of a female Big Jim violinist who was too close for comfort. Definitely too close for my ear. Because it's quite a perfect ear, and that is not always a good thing. Oh God, the screechings, the bangings, they were a bit too much for my sensitive ear which allows nothing but the best... that means probably my own. Yet more boasting. What could I have done wrong with my ear for the Gods to put it in penance? Nothing really. But through the course of my musical career I have not only had to put up with the dissonance and out of tunes and gross musical indecencies, but also a whole new swearing alphabet. Because, at least in this country, music is very akin to swearing. That was my first impression as a naive 13 year old joining the now Philharmonic. Fast forward, that bit hasn't changed at all. It's still a swearing circus in there. And no, nobody should feel offended because it's all about performing monkeys. Now where can I find that gorilla, baboon, oh yes I can see it all even if I sit in the theatre gallery....

A Cure?

There is no cure for the common cold. But we get by, we try to nurse it. Just this has made pharmaceutical companies very rich. And we get over it in a week and are back to normal. Sometimes we also break bones, literally, physical bones. And it hurts and we put it into plaster, swear for six weeks, and it's we're as right as rain again. And sometimes we get depressed. And we try to nurse it. But, as a friend pointed out, it's complicated. That doesn't mean it's impossible to tackle either. It's just that little more vague. And we don't like vague. Because vague is an unknown devil, and we prefer the devil we know, although it's a devil. We don't realise that perhaps this devil is enough of a devil and things could only get better. But then, we identify with a lot of things in life, one of which is pain. Yes we are a glutton for punishment and it's not always our fault. Yes we can go back and try to identify how and why and what and where. That's not a cure. I am not saying that playing stupid makes it easier. It doesn't, but opening a can of worms is not always a very good idea, because nothing but worms will come out. And we don't need worms. But that still doesn't mean we've found a cure for the damn depression. Depression is a word like any other, it shouldn't scare people off as much as diabetes should. And again, is there a cure? I cannot give a yes or no answer, I can only say that it gets better and it doesn't have to be chronic. I was there, and very bad. There was little hope, I remember doctors shaking their heads in despair behind what they thought was my back. Years later, I can write about sex and have a jolly good old laugh. And I thought I would never even live long enough to smile. How? Well, finding the right doctor is imperative. Never giving up is another, although yes I acknowledge that a big part of depression is about giving up. How I wish I could take some of other people's pain away. Because there is no word in the dictionary which can really describe the pain. Perhaps fear? And yet I made it. And I am not a very brave girl. Depression is so much like diabetes, you have to find the right insulin dosage, the right syringe. Otherwise you will live in lethargy, thirst and confusion. So is depression. How I did it. Well if Rome was not built in a day, neither was the road to recovery. It's all about baby steps, sometimes you take one step and go back one, sometimes you take two and go back three, sometimes you take ten and take ten more. It is still a sensitive subject for me now, because of the bland ignorance there still exists. I have been given a clean bill of health. But I don't look back and laugh. That was no laughing matter. I look back and breathe a sigh of relief. It's over now. And although religion is not really my thing, I sometimes sit on my terrace, smoke, and look at the black sky. And I pray that if someone out there is having a hard time, well, if there is a God, I pray that He takes their fragile mind in His hands and gives it a cuddle. There is never any harm in drawing a picture in the sky.