Work

Today I was a good girl. Today I arrived at work not too late only about 30 minutes instead of 2 hours and I said “Good Morning!” to everybody. Not with a smile because my cheeks were paralysed from sleep deprivation, but at least I greeted everybody. I did some of that stuff they call small talk with my closest boss who sits about one meter away from me and I even managed to give her a compliment on her clothing.

All this time my brain felt as if it was recoiling and my spine was twisting. It is an odd feeling that of a recoiling brain, its as if my brain is trying to shrink and escape from the reality which it can see through the eyes.

At lunch today, which I for the first time in two months had with three colleagues I managed to chit chat and I think my mouth tried stretching into something that was supposed to mimic a smile. But after about twenty minutes of friendliness I started to feel nauseated by this fraternising. And when my colleagues started to warm up and say that I wasn’t myself I really had to sit on my hands to stop myself from throwing my plate in the air or screaming.

I hate my job.

I have never felt this way before, I recognise the feeling of total despair and wishing that I rather was dead than being in a place but that feeling has never been apart of my job. At work I’ve always managed to hide behind a nice happy mask. People thought I was quirky and strange but I did a hell of a job. I was too honest and in the bosses faces but I tried to make peoples lives better. And they laughed with me.

I was an odd ball who could one day give a little show with fluffy hand puppets or sneak in one night and fill the aquarium with colourful fish to keep the lonely grey fish company and I’ve been known to make everybody a smoothie of their own choice on a Friday.

I might never have enjoyed working in an office but I always liked my colleagues. And now it is really killing me that I can hardly look at them and am behaving like a bitch towards them.

Cacti in Tel Aviv

Funny Farm

One of my best friends has a Bipolar disorder, another friend of mine has some Borderline disorder and three years ago I was diagnosed for having suffered from Dysthymia since the age of eleven.

I know quite a number of people who take a Happy pill every day and some others who take Ritalin for an ADHD-disorder. I have friends who suffer from anxiety attacks, panic attacks and OCD. Still others who abuse alcohol in large amounts or are drug addicts. I know many who go and see a “person to talk to”, some who go on “silent retreats” and others who try every New Age ritual in the world to find their "true inner being". They meditate, drink herbs and use hot stones to drive bad energies away. Some people look to the stars for guidance and others use tarot cards or religion to answer the questions of life.

All of these friends of mine, have one thing in common which is - all of them are completely “normal” for anyone who doesn’t know what diagnose they have or what pills/herbs/drugs they pop.

When travelling or talking to friends from abroad the subject of Sweden being notorious for suicides and a high rate of depression, always comes up. I’ve heard the notion that in “other countries” there aren’t as many mentally "sick" people.

This I think is totally absurd, maybe we have higher statistics and more people are diagnosed here, but couldn’t this be because there is a greater understanding of depression and other mental health issues here? Also, since media writes about these things everyday it lessens the negative stigma and people become more open about it.
In countries with corruption, wars and/or other social miseries, media concentrates on those news topics instead. The mental health matters are not talked about and therefore the negative stamp and ignorance is still strong.

But then what is a mental health problem?

What is the difference between people who take sleeping pills prescribed by a doctor against insomnia, and people who self medicate them selves with a ‘spliff’ before bedtime to help them sleep?

Why is a person who takes a drink to calm his nerves every day more “normal” than a person who takes a prescribed Ritalin pill to focus?

Is a person who goes on ‘silent meditation retreats’, drink St Johns Wort tea (against depression) and visits a tarot card reader so much dissimilar from a person who talks to a psychiatrist and gets a prescription for Prozac?

Why is it more shameful to have a 2 week psychosis caused by a hereditary disorder than a psychosis caused by smoking too much hashish?

Is one of them saner than the other? And who decides what sanity is? And when is a person so insane that he/she should be institutionalised?

Too many questions.

All I know is that if someone wants to institutionalise me and all my friends – because I am sure every single one will fall under some category of insanity if one looks closely enough - on a beautiful tropical island because we might be a danger to ourselves or society, then I will welcome them.

But hang on a minute, maybe Sweden (which on the map looks like a big dick) already is a big loony bin or funny farm for people who worship phallic symbols (the midsummer pole) and copulate like mad men in every bush?

Freeze and reflect

I’ve come back to Sweden after 3 months in Israel and most people ask me “How was Israel? Did you see any…?” Then there is always a strange pause. A trail of unsaid words after “Did you see any…”. In the beginning I automatically filled in the unsaidness with the word “trouble” and would answer accordingly. “No, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, no suicide bombers, no horrific wall, no poor Palestinians being abused by nasty Jewish people” but now I am so fed up with the preconceived picture of Israel and Israelis that I just answer “Did I see any…what? Blue monkeys?”

It saddens me that no one seems interested in knowing what Israel is like. As soon as I’ve made them unsatisfied with my answer lacking juicy tragic details of the Middle East I’ve lost their attention. However if a person does against all odds listen to me out of politeness they look bored and sceptical and end up telling me “ Well yes, it seems like you’ve been lucky to meet nice people with good views”

So now, whether or not you want to know what I thought of Israel I am going to tell you.

In Israel I met a large number of amazing people, very warm, generous and open-minded. The Israelis that I’ve met are the most positive and funny people I’ve met. Nothing is a problem, but if it is, it will be solved in an instant. And if you don’t laugh till you nearly wet your pants at least once a day something is wrong or else you’re not hanging out with an Israeli.

It was a surprise to me that the countryside of Israel reminded me so much of South Australia. Sometimes, it felt like I was in the Barossa valley. The reason for this was because one of the most common trees is the Eucalyptus tree, stringybarks and ironbarks everywhere. Imported once to help dry out the swamps and get rid of Malaria. Also in Amiqam where I lived there where orchards and vineyards everywhere just like Oz.

But it is a pity that the wine culture is nearly non existent. If you go to the country yourselves, don’t be surprised if the only wine you get is when the host on the Friday Shabbat meal opens a bottle of red wine and shares it between 14 guests. If you are unlucky the wine might have stood opened for two or three weeks in the fridge.

I liked the fact that all road signs are written in Hebrew, English and Arabic; but I think it is sad that it is not compulsory to learn Arabic in school, in a country where 20% of the population are Arabic. But 15% of the population is now Russian and growing so maybe the next compulsory language in school will be Russian.

I loved the architecture in Tel Aviv or the White City as it is also called. Tel Aviv has the largest concentration of Bauhaus style buildings in any one city. It is a modernistic style, clean-cut and gives me goose bumps of pleasure. However I hate that the buildings are so run down and dirty. What could have been the prettiest city in the world is...not. Someone should get seriously tortured for letting it get so rundown.

Oh and I've never felt so cold in winter in any country.

In other words I saw a lot of things I liked and a few things I liked less.

And the people are amazing.

Road sign to home