This is a blog I have been putting off writing for a while. It’s about letting go, but I have to keep reminding myself that it’s not about giving up.
We’ve talked about this for a while but it wasn’t until the last time we took the boat away that we officially made the call.
We’re putting Wildflower up for sale.
It’s a really hard thing to do. She’s been a massive part of Paddy’s life, and a big part of mine for the last 10 years. It’s like letting go of a family member or, the way I prefer to look at it, preparing your child for every possible eventuality and sending them out into the world.
Wildflower is tough and beautiful and created by Paddy to be the ultimate ocean-going vessel – but she’s not crossing oceans. All the little things that went wrong when we last took her out were simply due to lack of use. She needs to be out on the ocean waves.
New adventures
Part of me is really struggling to fight the feeling that this is giving up. I gleefully signed off my book with plans to take her away again in 2016 (note to self: never put a date in print). That year came and went and we are still here in Wellington.
We have taken the boat away on smaller adventures – across to Tasman Bay and Nelson and over to the Sounds, but also embarked on different adventures of our own.
We bought a house, I tamed a feral garden, we got engaged (there’s a half-finished blog about that too. We had a party which involved putting 3000 ball pit balls in a spa pool. It was awesome.) We inherited a new fur child, I wrote a book and got it published and I am writing more.
When we moved from living between the boat and a flat to a house (a move that went amazingly smoothly and, I would like to point out, was Paddy’s idea so no rubbish about me making him swallow the anchor) we thought we would have more time to sail the boat because we weren’t living on her. We could keep her set up for sailing all the time and it wouldn’t be such a drama having to pack up our life every time we wanted to take her out.
The best laid plans
Unfortunately things didn’t happen that way. For a million, very valid reasons, we just didn’t get the chances we thought we would. As I have mentioned before, one of the issues with having a cruising boat in Wellington is the fact that you are in Wellington. You can’t just pop over to the Sounds for a weekend and be back for work on Monday. You need several days either side to make sure you get the Cook Strait crossing conditions right. So, while it’s a lovely idea, it doesn’t happen that often in reality. And in reality, with the new directions our lives have taken, we aren’t going to be able to take a year or so off work to get the boat ready and head over to the tropics any time soon.
This isn’t a bad thing. We are both in a really good place right now and I am happier and less crazy than I have been in a long time. It’s just that it’s a different place than we thought we would be.
Not the end of the adventure
This isn’t the end of sailing for us. There will always be a boat, just a smaller one that means less maintenance and more sailing. One thought is a trailer yacht that Paddy can actually sail and maybe get back into racing. The other possibility is to get a berth down in Picton and have a smaller boat there, so we can fly over in the weekends and already be in the Sounds.
One of the things Paddy asked me when we were talking about this was “what part of sailing do you like best, getting to places or being in places?” And when I honestly think about it, being in places is the winner for me. What I loved about our Pacific trip was the access to islands and villages and people that you normally wouldn’t have on your standard tourist holiday. And while I am super proud of myself for crossing oceans and it gave me a huge amount of confidence, I can’t say I enjoyed it hugely.
The odd clear night with bright stars and a calm sea made it all worth it, but that was the exception rather than the rule. Most sailors I have spoken to don’t enjoy long passages. A couple of days between countries is all good, but I can’t say I get much out of anything longer – other than bragging rights. So another option for us could be flying and chartering a boat. The sailing isn’t over, it just might be a different kind of sailing.
Rules for dating our daughter
It’s not the end of adventures on Wildflower yet either. It can take years to sell a boat and we are certainly going to vet potential purchasers. Our baby isn’t going to go to just anyone. It has to be someone who will love her and look after her and can handle the fact she’s a little bit ‘extra.’ If you are going to date our daughter, you are going to have to get past us. (So don’t worry Mum, you will get your ride round the harbour!)
So, as Paddy has said ‘the star of Which Way is Starboard Again? is up for sale’. She’s strong and beautiful and has more whiz bang gadgets than you could possibly need (don’t even get me started on the fridge) and a piece of me will go along with her.
She is sturdy and safe and got my anxious arse around the South Pacific and back. She is the goodest girl and we are very proud of her. We want to find someone who will love her as much as we do but give her the freedom to sail she needs.
The deets
For those interested, Wildflower is a Bruce Roberts designed R432.
She has a “Solent” cutter rig and an 80hp Ford D series engine.
On board there’s a generator, water maker, dive compressor and SSB radio.
Note: This is one of those blogs that travels all over the shop, from New Zealand to Samoa and back – so I have broken it up into bite-sized chunks so you can easily stop reading when you get sick of the sound of my e-voice. You’re welcome.
Also content warning: This post deals with mental health issues including anxiety and depression. It is unbelievably okay to ask for help so if you or someone you know needs assistance there are New Zealand-based contacts below. I am sure there are similar resources available for overseas readers.
When the crazy comes back
This sort of feels like an admission of defeat, but my gleeful post about switching meds for the first time in 20 years appears to have been a bit premature.
In short, the crazy came back.
Basically things went really well, right up until they didn’t. I was functioning fine during the working day, but by the time I got home I was completely out of gas from holding it all together. I was pretty much on an anxiety tight-rope. When it got to the point where Paddy sneezed and I screamed, we knew something was seriously wrong.
I didn’t give up easily. In fact, in trying to find another answer, I probably took longer than I should have to realise it was the meds. I did all the right things, I talked to an awesome head doctor, I started seeing a physio because the tension had munted my back and I was trying to eat healthier. (Getting more exercise was the next on the list, but I hadn’t quite got there yet!) When none of that worked that pretty much left one thing, it was chemical.
I didn’t want to admit this at first because I was so convinced the last happy pill switch was going to be the answer, so when things got steadily worse I felt a bit gutted. It’s silly, I know people who have been through at least six different medication changes before they found the right mix. I just figured that wouldn’t be me.
In typical Anna fashion, crunch time came at the least convenient moment, just before we were due to go on a planned holiday to Samoa. (Before you ask, we totally cheated and flew rather than sailed. We’d need a bit longer than 10 days if we were going to try something like that!)
No time was going to be a good time to switch, so my choice in terms of going on holiday was – wait until I got back, knowing there was 100% likelihood of feeling crappy while I was over there, or start beforehand with the small hope that I might actually feel a bit better. Not much of a choice I agree, but in the end I went with the latter.
This involved weaning myself the old happy pills, a couple of days of no happy pills and then gradually building up the new happy pills – which meant a fair bit of time with Anna’s brain not having enough happy juice. I was a bit scared, but I had done it before, and I knew it would be okay eventually.
Harry Potter and the Customs Official
‘Swish and flick!’
One of the joys of having an anxiety disorder is that you fixate over every possible way anything could go wrong. If you are under-medicated and have an anxiety disorder it’s like that on acid (not that I ever tried acid, my brain was already fizzy enough!).
We were flying to Samoa from Auckland and circumstances meant that Paddy would be there before me (in Auckland, not Samoa), so I was going to catch a red-eye from Wellington and meet him at the Auckland International Terminal.
So of course my brain got busy with all the things that could go horrifically wrong before we even got out of the country. I stayed on the boat the night before to be closer to the airport and, after very little sleep (except for enough to have a nightmare that Wellington Airport was fogged out and no flights could leave), I got there ridiculously early and everything went super smoothly leaving me with an hour to kill. So far so good…
Turbulence on the flight to Auckland made me a little bit jittery, but it was nothing compared to bouncing around in the middle of the Pacific Ocean (which is what I kept telling myself as I gripped the armrests.) I arrived safe and sound and made contact with Paddy to let him know I was about to head through customs. He told me there was plenty of time, but as far as I was concerned there wouldn’t be plenty of time until I was sitting at the gate waiting for them to call our seat numbers.
Customs went fine at first, I was waved through the people scanner, got most of my stuff, then noticed my handbag was heading away from me down the Naughty Conveyor Belt for Naughty People Carrying Naughty Things. I signaled to the customs officials that it was mine and they waved me over.
I stepped towards them and they were all “stay behind the yellow line please ma’am”. This was serious, I couldn’t even check to see if time was running out for my flight because my phone was in my handbag!
It was actually the second time this had happened recently, the first was when I was visiting my sister and new niece in Brisbane, but they found nothing then.
After confirming I had packed my own bags I joked (because that is what I do when I am stressed or nervous) that it might be my good luck troll. For those of you who don’t know me: My name is Anna and I never travel without a troll.
The customs official said “no, but I can see the troll, it looks quite funny!”
“Can I have a look?” I asked excitedly, forgetting I was still under suspicion.
I mustn’t have looked too dodgy because he let me lean over to see.
There she was, smiling benevolently up at me through the x ray. ‘Get me out of this Cal! (Short for Calorie, a story for another time),’ I thought frantically at her. ‘We’ve got a flight to catch!’
Cal the good luck troll (spoiler- as you can see we made it safely to the Pacific and she became TropiCAL)
After a bit of scruffling around and finding nothing, he finally said “What we are seeing is a pointed metal rod with sort of bumps all the way down it.”
I let out a massive sigh of relief. “I know exactly what it is. It’s the Harry Potter wand on my keyring!”
Instead of looking at me like I was a crazy person, he dug in deep, grabbed my keys and said ‘So it is! And it’s not just any wand. It’s the Elder Wand!”
(It’s totally a knock off of the Elder Wand, but I’ll take it).
It was a ‘graduation’ gift from a Wizarding Academy steam train trip I took recently with my Mum, two of my best friends and not a child among us – because #adulting. (Important note to anyone else who went on that trip. Take the wands off your keyrings if you want to fly internationally.)
Wizarding Academy graduates – adulting at its best!
It turned out Mr Customs Official was a massive Potter geek and had just returned from Harry Potter World (I didn’t catch whereabouts, I was still a little flustered).
He preceded to wave my tiny wand around *, showing his fellow customs officers the proper ‘swish and flick’ motion and trying to cast Alohamora.
I was massively relieved and glad to have provided some entertainment and found a kindred spirit, but I was also all ‘dude, flight to catch!’ I didn’t say that out loud though because I was still so relieved he hadn’t pulled out the rubber gloves.
In the end he gave me back my wand and my troll and I made it to the gate with time to spare and a story that I probably found much more entertaining that Paddy did.
* Yes I am aware of how that sounds. If your inner 14 year old boy is as vocal as mine, just google ‘Harry Potter wand replaced with wang’ and get it out of your system.
That’ll keep you going through the show (with apologies to Pink Floyd’s Comfortably Numb)
Sometimes you don’t realise you haven’t been feeling anything until your emotions come back and you start Feeling All the Things.
It’s like when you stub your toe or otherwise bang yourself up. You feel nothing for a split second after you injure yourself (mostly because you are in a wee bit of shock) and then EVERYTHING IS FIRE AND PAIN.
As I mentioned in my book (which you should totally buy if you haven’t already because half of the proceeds go to the NZ Mental Health Foundation – see I can do product placement!) I have the cray-cray trifecta – obsessive compulsive disorder, anxiety and depression.
The anxiety is pretty easy to identify because you jump every time a spider farts, but the depression is a creeper and often you don’t realise you are going through it until it has its claws well hooked.
Paddy noticed I was sleeping a lot at home, but I just put that down to having a pretty full life. That was really the first sign. The second was that I had stopped feeling. I was making my way through life fine, but I didn’t really feel happy or sad, or anything really. I was numb.
It wasn’t until I was unwinding in a tropical paradise that I realised just how long I had been like that, and I realised it because I suddenly started to feel things again.
Something really silly made me cry. It might have been something in a book I was reading, or I might have lost something, or I might have stubbed my toe – I honestly don’t remember other than it was pretty minor – and I suddenly realised I hadn’t done that for a really long time.
That opened the floodgates. I’d get really involved in a discussion, I’d read something that resonated in a book, I’d see a cute cat on the internet and I would start bawling. It seems perverse that feeling sad can actually be a good thing but when you have felt nothing for so long it really, really can.
The first couple of days were a bit rough. Different people deal with depression in different ways and different approaches can work at different times for the same person. There is no right or wrong way to do this, so please don’t take my coping strategies as gospel, I might have different ones next week.
You often hear people talk about ‘battling depression’ and often that can be exactly the right thing to do. Fight the bastard. Throw everything you have at it. Don’t listen to a lying word it has to say.
Sometimes though you just don’t have the energy to do that, and that’s okay too. Sometimes you need to know when to stop and regroup, to recharge and get your energy back to kick it to the curb. That’s when I find myself sinking into it, just curling up and letting the feelings wash over me, acknowledging them but not fighting them. Sometimes that can take their power away.
Of course from the outside that looks a whole lot like curling up in a ball and feeling sorry for yourself, and when you are in a tropical paradise that some people might never get to see, that seems rather ungrateful and something you should feel ashamed about.
Now that I am out of that ball and feeling recharged and ready to face what’s ahead of me I can tell you that’s absolutely not the case, but it can be a tricky argument to win with yourself at the time.
When you suck at being a VIP
Before anyone tells me what I missed out on, this is not the first time I have been to Samoa. Around 10 years ago I visited Upolu, Savaii and even American Samoa and saw some stunning places, had awesome experiences and met some lovely people. I particularly recommend Savaii if you are thinking of going there yourself, it is absolutely stunning.
This wasn’t meant to be an adventure holiday, it was more of a stop, drop and flop affair. Somewhere warm to go and do absolutely nothing to stave off burnout in our real world.
So for the first time I stayed in a proper resort. To be honest, and I really hope this doesn’t come across as privileged and ungrateful, I’m not really a huge fan. Don’t get me wrong, it was absolutely lovely. We had lovely air conditioned rooms in a gorgeous setting with BATH TEMPERATURE ocean water just outside, the food and people were lovely, but I’m just not that crazy about people running around after me like I’m some sort of VIP.
I know it’s their job and if they didn’t do it they wouldn’t have one, but I just find people serving me and cleaning up after me a little hard.
I think I might have been a bit hyper-sensitive to it because I wasn’t 100% and I kind of just wanted to be left alone. But every day staff were desperate to get into our room to tidy up and, even if we left the ‘do not disturb’ sign up, they just circled until they had the opportunity to. I understood why after a couple of days, when it turned out hours later a manager would come in to check that the first lot of staff had done their job properly.
That didn’t sit super well with me, and is also a little hard when you are already feeling a bit guilty and ashamed about being busted taking a two-hour depression nap in the middle of a beautiful sunny day. I know it’s silly and that people who are on holiday rest a lot but, trust me, depression isn’t big on making a whole lot of sense.
Sometimes superpowers aren’t all they’re cracked up to be.
Voices by the pool
One of the side-effects of going through the medication switch at a resort is that I now know far too much about the people staying there.
I know that three Australian men were there on a racing trip (though I’m unsure what type of racing) and that they were rather fond of the local beer. I know that the kid two tables down from us hadn’t slept for three nights in a row (and I felt terribly sorry for his parents), I know that the woman at the table behind us was headed to Tonga but something her son was supposed to do back home hadn’t been done – and I learned all this in about 10 minutes, while trying to have a conversation with Paddy.
I first experienced this when I was 15 and diagnosed with All the Things. At the time I thought I was hearing voices or had suddenly developed the ability to read minds.
I would be in the supermarket and suddenly be assailed by inane conversations.
“This brand is cheaper but Frank likes that brand better.”
“Susan is a total skank!”
“I told you we were running low on petrol two days ago.”
I would hear all these things simultaneously until I wanted to scream “just put the house on the market Janet – it’s not going to matter if you buy new curtains or not!” at the top of my lungs.
When I told my head doctor about it I was convinced I had developed some sort of unwanted psychic superpowers. “You know, like when Superman got overwhelmed by being able to read everybody’s thoughts until he got control of his powers?”“
No,” she said, disappointingly. “You are not turning into a superhero.”
So much for silver linings!
She explained the fight or flight wiring in our brains, which kept us alive when we lived in the jungle and every cracking twig could be a bear creeping up on you. This was useful when humans were more regularly potential bear snacks, but not so much when you are in the supermarket buying yogurt.
As humans became less likely to be lunch, this hyper-vigilance faded. But those of us with anxiety and out of whack brain chemicals didn’t seem to get the memo. So here I was, in a tropical paradise, drinking pina coladas while utterly convinced there was A BEAR RIGHT BEHIND ME all day, every day. We don’t even have bears in New Zealand, and I’m pretty sure they’re not native to Samoa.
Once I got this under control the first time (and I will again) it actually became a useful skill as a journalist. I had developed bat ears and often conversations inadvertently tuned into, grew into promising story leads.The moral of the story is, don’t whisper things around me, I will automatically tune in, whether I want to or not. Also, that colour really does look good on you, you should totally buy that dress!
Anna’s list of things that help when you are going bonkers in the tropics
There is most definitely a light at the end of this particular tunnel. I am not better yet, the drugs still need tweaking, but I am getting there.
The fact that I am writing again is a pretty good sign. In fact, I wrote most of this while we were away, which is an even better sign. I find writing down the things that have helped me through a wobbly patch is useful for the next time things go bumpy, so here’s my list this time round:
Sending silly messages to my family Whatsapp group chat, and seeing what they are up to (particularly looking at photos of my wee niece and grossing my sister out with photos of my Crocs)
Island cats (none of which were as beautiful and snuggly as my beloved at home of course!)
Island meows!
Swimming in bath temperature warm ocean water
32 degrees!!!
Having breathing space to write again and actually feeling like doing it (it took four days before I was in the right headspace but I got there!)
Umbrella drinks
Putting umbrellas from said drinks in my good luck troll’s hair
Tropical flowers that look like fuzzy Muppet caterpillars
Muppet flowers!
Reading three books in 10 days – a record, which is a shame because I love reading, I just never take the time to do it.
Wearing pretty summer clothes (that probably won’t come out again until the next holiday)
I got Paddy in orange!!
Paddy – for being right there with me while I slept, wrote, stalked island cats and put umbrellas on my troll. Love you babe!
Paddy in training for the 2019 International Competitive Hammocking Championships
Where to get help if you need it (in NZ):
Need to talk? Free call or text 1737 any time for support from a trained counsellor
Lifeline – 0800 543 354 (0800 LIFELINE) or free text 4357 (HELP)
This year’s mental health awareness week’s theme is Nature is key – which would be great if nature wasn’t being so bastard cold at the moment *
(*When I started writing this blog Wellington was behaving awfully weather-wise. It has since bucked its ideas up but I can’t be naffed changing my intro or cover pic. Nice one Wellington – keep up the good work!)
In all seriousness though, they’ve put together some pretty cool material to remind people not to get buried in things and to look to nature to support mental health and wellbeing.
One of the things they have produced is a little green N sticker to put over the N on your keyboard to remind you to take a break and go hang out with the grass and woodland critters. It’s a great idea in theory, but I’m a bit of a keyboard masher and N seems to be right in the firing line – so mine kind of looks like this now.
Sorry N key!
Hopefully it stops raining for long enough to go outside before I wipe it off the face of my keyboard. (See asterisk above).
It might seem a bit tree huggy, but there’s actually something in it all. When I’m having a hard time with anxiety, one of the best things I can do is just drop everything and go for a walk. Blowing out the cobwebs by moving is a great distraction when your brain is trying to eat itself. Going to the gym is great but sometimes you just can’t deal with other people – going for a walk around the harbour (even if it is head first into a gale force wind) can be much more healing.
I discovered the benefits of getting out and walking when my OCD was bad all those years ago. I would get to the point where I couldn’t stay still. I couldn’t stand still, I couldn’t sit down I just had to get out of where I was. Walking through botanical gardens, parks and along beaches saved me in a lot of ways and the friends and family who walked with me (when I was up to dealing with people) even more so.
Gardening is now one of my go-to’s (a genetic predisposition from my Mum). I can spend hours playing in the dirt, freeing plants from weeds and vines, talking with worms and helping things grow. It can be very zen in some ways but great when you are frustrated too. Sometimes the more violent the gardening the better. Hacking up blackberry and ripping out weeds by the roots can be exceptionally satisfying.
Blackberry slaying therapy
Getting away from the dirt – I guess, if you think about it, heading out to sea is about as close as you can get to nature. While it wasn’t always super relaxing – and at times rather traumatic -our trip around the South Pacific in Wildflower also provided me with some of the most peaceful moments oof my life. A night watch on a still night can be stunning. When there is nothing but sea, stars and fluorescent algae to keep you company, nothing but waves and the Milky Way, there is nothing more beautiful. It is one of my go-to images when I feel stressed out.
Speaking of images, the Mental Health Foundation also has a photo challenge going, which I am having a go at this year. You can check it out here:
If you’d like to have a look at my pics you can find me on Instagram as Seamunchkin, @Seamunchkin on Twitter or check out the Which Way is Starboard Again? Facebook page. Let me know if you are taking part, I would love to see your photos too.
The best thing is you don’t have to be officially cray cray for this sort of thing to help. We all lead highly stressful lives in one way or another and sometimes we just need to be reminded that there is a world out there. That outside of that meeting you were in, that difficult class you took or that politician that annoyed you on the internet, there’s an ocean and stars and trees and flowers and dirt.
I’m not saying going outside will fix everything. If it did I would spend much more time out there than I do. Treating mental health is much more complex than that. It may involve talking with people or in some cases, like mine, medication.
That’s why I get so mad when I see those stupid memes about how hugging a tree is better than medication. You know the ones – I’m not giving them the airtime of reposting. There is a great response by the wonderful mental health advocacy website The Mighty that I will share though:
So kudos to the NZ Mental Health Foundation for encouraging people to think about their brains as well as their bodies.
I know I bang on about it a lot but mental health support in this country needs so much more support than it gets. I am so glad it has finally become a political issue. It affects so many of us and we need to stand up for ourselves and each other and push it where we can.
In the meantime, if you have anything to spare, I highly suggest sending it the Mental Health Foundation’s way. They need all the support they can get.
As always, 50% of the profits from Starboard physical book sales are going to them so if you want something to read and a warm fuzzy feeling feel free to push the button below ($10 sale is still on)
Note: The super funky image at the top of this blog is called Rain and wind. It’s by jaci XIII, and was created for the Kreative People Challenge 59 CC BY-NC-SA 2.0
I’m super excited to see that 1000 lovely people have subscribed to this blog (especially since I have been a bit rubbish at regularly updating it of late) and a big wave hello to the new followers on the Starboard Facebook page!
This is an awesome surprise and a good wake up for me to share more with you all.
To celebrate I’m selling signed paperbacks of Which Way is Starboard Again? for NZ $9.99 with free postage in New Zealand.
50% of the proceeds still go to the New Zealand Mental Health Foundation . Mental health is severely underfunded in New Zealand and this is a fantastic organisation that deserves all the support it can get. I have already made our first donation of $200 so thank you so much for everyone who has been a part of that.
For those of you who would like to donate more the $19.99 full promotion is still available and there is more information about it here
If you live outside of New Zealand and are interested in buying a copy, drop me an email at whichwayisstarboardagain@gmail.com and we can sort postage. The book is also available on most ebook platforms, but I don’t have control over the pricing of those. Do shop around though, I have spotted it on sale at different sites. At the moment Amazon has it at $6.59
In other news, book number two is definitely on the way and I will share a sample with you shortly. I am also investigating turning Starboard into an audio book, I just need to get my head around the technological side of that!
Will keep you posted.
Again, thank you so much for the support. It might just be a matter of pressing a subscribe button, but it means an awful lot to writers like us – so yay you!
I got ‘the call’ from the publisher – Starboard has been out for a year and the copies they have left aren’t moving anymore.
With limited space in their warehouse it was time for the oldies to make way for the new kids, leaving me with the choice of buying up the stock they had left or letting them pulp the excess.
Because I couldn’t bear the thought of my first book becoming garden mulch, there really was no choice.
So I am now the proud owner of 22 boxes of my own book.
My book-babies
All up I sold just over 1000 copies, which isn’t too bad for a first book with a Kiwi publisher. Now it’s my job to move the rest.
I’m still fundraising for the Mental Health Foundation so if you or someone you know would like to contribute to that you can buy it here for $19.99, with 50% of the proceeds going to them
If that’s not affordable for you though, just drop me a line at whichwayisstarboardagain@gmail.com and we can sort something out – I have plenty of them!
Seriously, I have plenty of them.
Other plans for this many books include; building a giant book fort and filling a pool with them so I can swim about in them ala Scrooge McDuck.
I was hoping to make one of those cool book Christmas trees you see on Pinterest but with copies of the same book but I ran out of time before Christmas (I suspect I will still have enough left to be able to do it next year though!)
Any other suggestions for what to do with a stupid amount of books would be much appreciated!
Please don’t think I’m having a cry here. As I said, I think Starboard went pretty well for a first book by a new kid. I just wasn’t going to let what was left be turned into mush. Thank you so much to the thousand plus people who bought it, to those who bought the e-book, to those who got it out of the library and recommended it to their friends. The support has been amazing and overwhelming.
And yes, there will be more. I’m working on a couple of projects at the moment (fiction this time) and there will be a Starboard followup when life lets us do another big trip.
Short version for busy folk – 50% from Which Way is Starboard Again? book sales will now go to the New Zealand Mental Health Foundation – you can get it here for $19.99
Reading the stories generated by Mental Health Awareness Week has been both inspiring and depressing.
It has been inspiring to see the strength of those living with mental illness and speaking out about it to remove the stigma, and depressing to hear about the state New Zealand’s mental health system is now in – particularly for young people.
I was lucky enough to receive excellent support when diagnosed with OCD, anxiety and depression as a teen (20 years ago) through the 198 Youth Health Centre in Christchurch (now 298 Youth Health) and the Youth Specialty Services there. I read a story in the Sunday Star Times about a Ministry of Health target that 95% of youth referred to mental health services have their first treatment within eight weeks. Thousands assessed as ‘non urgent’ are waiting longer than that. I honestly don’t think I would be here (or at least who I am) if I had to wait that long.
I know there isn’t a huge amount one person can do to help. If I wasn’t certain I would take it all home with me I would retrain and join the mental health profession.
What I do have though is a book.
A book about living with mental health issues and going outside your comfort zone. A book about bumbling around the South Pacific on a boat and the amazing people we met there. A book that people living with anxiety issues have told me made them smile (which is by far the best review I could ever hope for) and a book I hope I can use to raise a little bit of money and awareness for mental health services in New Zealand.
So I’m now working with the awesome people at New Zealand’s Mental Health Foundation to see if I can make that happen.
From now on, from every copy of Which Way is Starboard Again? bought through me for $19.99 50% will go to the Mental Health Foundation.
You can buy them here
or if you don’t use PayPal just drop me a line at whichwayisstarboardagain@gmail.com and we can sort something out.
The Mental Health Foundation will also be selling the book through their website and I’ll share the link when I get it.
So if you are interested or know anyone else who might be – point them our way. We would love your support.
So, rather ironically given I work in communications for a living, it turns out I am a bit of a rubbish self promoter. I need to try harder to let people know Which Way is Starboard Again? the book is out there.
To that end I have spruced up the blog and transferred it from the basic seamunchkin.wordpress.co to seamunchkin.com. If you already follow the blog your subscription has been transferred and nothing will change – it just means it’s easier to share and buy through the website.
I’ve put up a page about the book here and even have a dinky PayPal button
which you can also access here for people who would like to buy signed copies with special messages directly from me.
All the Facebook, Twitter, G+ links have been updated and I’ll put a redirect on the original blog so, other than the new look, it’s pretty much business as usual.
So if anyone you know is interested in reading about sailing, anxiety, projectile vomiting and ant wars I would really appreciate it if you could point them this way.
Thanks for bearing with me – back to your regularly scheduled programming!
Monster Weather Pattern! Horror Summer! The Godzilla Cthulu Sauron El Nino of 2015!- I’ve been putting off blogging about this because I haven’t wanted to jinx anything, but there appears to be no escaping this behemoth, and the accompanying headlines.
The Listener not helping my neurosis
I feel a bit selfish worrying about this. I’m not a drought stricken farmer or an islander waiting to get walloped – but the El Nino (or El No No as I have dubbed it) is certainly putting a spanner in our works.
Next year is supposed to be the year we climb aboard Wildflower and head out into the wild blue again. It’s the excited note I ended my book on, it’s what the next book (which I have already started writing) will be about – and there’s a good chance it might be put on hold.
Even though we won’t be leaving until mid year, we have to make a call by February so we can wrap up jobs, sort out my flat and get the boat ready. If Godzilla Cthulu Sauron is still lurking about by then, then the answer will be no.
We seem to attract annoying weather patterns. On our last trip we struck El No No’s opposite, a La Nina. The biggest problem with that though was a lack of wind, meaning we ended up spending much more than we had planned on diesel.
El No No goes to the other extreme. It is possible to sail in one, but the winds are stronger – strong enough to change things from ‘rather uncomfortable’ to ‘really bloody uncomfortable’. Ever since our wretched passage to Tonga Paddy has been trying to convince me that open water sailing can actually be quite pleasant. El No No seems to want to make a liar of him.
The other thing an El Nino can do is mess with the direction of the trade winds. Again, you can sail in this – you just need to change your angle, but the problems lie when you reach your destination. The majority of the anchorages in the islands are set up to be sheltered from the trade winds, if the winds start blowing in the opposite direction then shelter is much harder to come by and you are likely to be spending a lot of your time in bouncy, uncomfortable spots. Since we’re not complete gluttons for punishment, this doesn’t really appeal.
Of course it could have all blown over by the time we are ready to leave, but the problem is it is impossible to know. There’s so much to organise, we should be organising it now, but its hard to know when to invest the energy. I’m nervous as all get out anyway and don’t feel like I am ready yet, but committing to getting ready is only partially possible when we can’t commit to the fact we are going.
It lacks the adventure and sense of achievement but it really is so much easier to plan a trip when you are just climbing aboard a plane. As Paddy says, nothing goes to windward like a 747.
Our last trip was the big one for Paddy, he was able to prove that he and his boat were tough enough to make it round the South Pacific. This time we don’t have anything to prove, we know we can do it. This time we are going to take our time to enjoy it, to spend more time in places we like with people we like. I’m afraid I’m not up for the whole ‘heroic suffering’ thing.
I feel like a real spoil sport stressing out about all this, but Paddy told me the other night that the aim of the whole exercise was to enjoy it. He said he was prepared to wait until the conditions (and the neurotic crew) were ready – and that is a huge relief to me.
If feel like a bit of a fraud. I’ve told the world the next adventure will be 2016, but I honestly don’t know.
It’s really hard to keep your head in anything when you don’t know. I have my OCD under control but I still have a few hangovers. I want to know what is happening, when it is going to happen and how, then I can plan and get it sorted in my head. This limbo situation is the worst kind of torture for a control freak like me!
So I will be keeping a close eye on El No No and I’ll keep you guys updated closer to crunch time. In the meantime a few less Godzillas in the headlines would be much appreciated!
(Sorry for taking so long to post these on here – life and lurghies kind of got in the way.)
Last month I ended up sharing more information about myself over the radio than anyone could possibly want to know.
The Nutters Club is a late night show that runs from 11pm to 1am on Newstalk ZB. Hosted by comedian Mike King, it describes itself as being a show about “Nutters helping other Nutters live at peace with themselves and others, so that we can all lead meaningful lives.”
The show’s producer had read Which Way is Starboard Again? picked up on the mental health angle and invited me on to talk about living with obsessive compulsive disorder and anxiety.
I was absolutely terrified, but the guys were great and made me feel as relaxed as I possibly could. Mike is a media personality who has been very open about his battle with mental health issues so he was a great to talk to and his co-host Malcolm Falconer, a really laid back and switched on psychologist, helped chill me out before and during the show.
Malcolm’s website psychd.co.nz has links to all sorts of useful and interesting stuff.
Nutters – Mike King and I
Once I got over the ums and the nervous giggling I think I did alright – although I did end up calling Paddy an old bastard on national radio. Mike kept talking about Starboard being the story of ‘a young woman meeting a young man with a boat’ – after about the 3rd reference I blurted out ‘actually, he’s not that young!’ explaining that there is a bit of an age gap between us. Poor Paddy! He says he still loves me.
So here’s part 1 – I’ll forgive them for misspelling my name, it’s all good publicity!
And if you are still awake after that, here’s part two. One of the best things of the second part of the interview was an amazing lady who rang in. She was 48 years old and had only been diagnosed with OCD and anxiety at age 44. I can only imagine how difficult things had been for her for many years. She rang to thank me for speaking about living with anxiety. She said she still had a way to go but that listening to me sounding so confident gave her hope. Now I’m not the poster child for getting through these sort of things. I still have my moments and no doubt I will have more in the future – but it was an amazing feeling to be able to help at least one person see that there is light at the end of the tunnel
One of the things some people who were listening to the show at the time (and I was really surprised at how many people actually are listening to the radio at that time on a Sunday night/morning) complained about were the ads, and I can definitely see how they would be irritating to listen to, but I have now seen it from the other side and for me it was actually the opposite. I found the ads were an immense relief, because it gave me a breather from constant babbling.
Because the show finished so late they put me up in a hotel near Newstalk ZB and the suite came with a complimentary bottle of wine. I had a few hours to kill before go-time but tried my best to resist the urge to drink the nerves away – I figured turning up sozzled probably wouldn’t be a good look. In the end I caved and had one medicinal glass, then put the bottle out of sight. By the time I got back from the interview though I was completely wired. It was 2am and I was wide awake, so I poured myself another. Then I remembered my good friend and primo cook Janie (who I had stayed with the night before) had packed me off with chocolate brownies to help me make it through the night. So there I was at 2am on a Sunday sitting by myself in a hotel room, glass of wine in one hand and chocolate brownie in the other, partying like an author.
Disclaimer: I was in bed and fast asleep pretty much 10 minutes later – rock and roll!
The response from people who have read Which Way is Starboard Again? the book has been nothing short of amazing, but there are still a couple of reactions that I struggle with.
One is ‘you’re so brave’ and the other ‘I could never do that’
Firstly, I’m not brave. I’m terrified of everything – cars, loud noises, sudden movements, having to call strangers on the phone. I’m the biggest scaredy-cat out, I’m just really good at bluffing. Yes I did something that was pretty scary, but you know what? Most of the time I was doing it, I was pretty scared!
The second statement I can understand a bit more. If anyone had told me a few years ago that I would willingly spend days being tossed about the middle of the ocean in a tin tub rather than catch a plane to the tropics I would have told them to lay off the wacky backy.
The thing is you never know how you are going to react to a situation until it presents itself and you can be surprised at what you are actually prepared and are able to do. I highly suspect that given the same opportunity the people saying ‘I could never do that’ would do it, and do it well.
When I was at a low ebb Paddy would tell me that being brave wasn’t just about not being scared, it was about continuing to function despite being frightened, about not letting fear stop you. I didn’t feel particularly brave at the time, but I think there might be a grain of truth in that. There is definitely something rewarding about getting through the rough stuff and out the other side.
Funny thing is, the scariest part of it all for me wasn’t the crashing and the bashing and the splashing, it was afterwards. It was writing the book. It was talking about mental health.
I almost didn’t mention the Battle of the Brain, I was writing a humorous travel book after all, I didn’t want to bring the reader down. But gradually I realised that my anxiety was part of the story and part of me, and that leaving it out would have just been a lie.
Another reason I outed myself publicly was to let other people know that there is nothing wrong with being a highly functioning nutbar.
I said to myself, “if one 15-year-old me picks this up and realises they aren’t alone and that it will be okay, then this will be worth it.”
I got that confirmation at the weekend.
One of the great things about working for a teachers union is that you get to spend time with teachers and learn about the work they are doing to help guide the next generation through it all. I was chatting with a teacher who was reading parts of Starboard out to her Social Studies class and she told me they were really enjoying it. Apparently they particularly liked the parts that I found the scariest to write – about being different, accepting that you are that way and being honest about who you are to yourself and others. Apparently they were having discussions about this. They were the 15-year-old me I had vainly hoped to reach and they were having the conversations I was too afraid to have when I was their age. If nothing else comes from this book other than that I am happy, I have succeeded.
And now I’m off to put my head in the lion’s mouth again. This weekend I am going to spend a couple of hours on the radio talking about being a fruitbat. I will be the guest on Newstalk ZB’s Nutters Club , hosted by Mike King.
It’s a late night talk show that runs from about 11pm Sunday to 1am Monday where a comedian, a psychologist and a guest blather on and take calls about being a bit doolally. The premise of the show is “Nutters helping other Nutters live at peace with themselves and others, so that we can all lead meaningful lives” – I like that, and hope I can do it justice and not become a nervous blithering idiot. Wish me luck!
