To hope or not to hope - that is the question

You sometimes see them on lampposts, sad, faded, weatherbeaten pleas for help finding a lost pet. Posters from months ago, are they still searching? If not when did they stop, and how do you decide when to let go of hope?

And what about when it is not a pet but a runaway teen, or a missing pensioner...?

In one of the villages I work in the searches have gone on – crowds of volunteers turning out day after day. But when everywhere has been searched, every stone turned, every shed checked, when the regular rhythms of life call out – then the searchers go home. What happens next?

Logic may say hope is gone, but that kind of grief seems wrong, like giving up on someone before it is absolutely certain. Yet it has to be faced, and somehow life for everyone else has to go on, but how? And the community effectively has to ask if it is okay to smile or laugh at things again, whilst living a life that still looks over its shoulder, alert to any clues to the mystery.

But according to the charity Missing People an estimated 250,000 people go missing in the UK each year. Some are like our local experience – where confusion or vulnerability appear to be a cause. Many of them are by choice, getting out of difficult situations or as a result of family tensions, but they become vulnerable by setting out without any resources or support. Often the wider community aren’t involved, family and friends have to deal with it themselves. You hear of parents staying in a house and keeping the missing teen’s room as it was, waiting for them to come home one day. But the prodigal son returning home isn’t that common - is it better to wait in endless, wishful hope, or to move on? Are there times when hope is not good for you?

Now back at work, on Monday I led a funeral, this is both a privilege and a responsibility of my role as a minister. The ritual of a formal goodbye and a time of remembering and celebrating a loved one’s life is important whether done religiously or not. Moving on without these psychological markers, moving on when nothing is definite, is incredibly difficult.

And so I will go to the village hall coffee morning tomorrow, with no answers, no promises of hope, but to sit with them as we ask our questions together.

A week since...

... I realised that I needed to seriously consider time off, that I was not ready to go back to work after my holiday leave.

In that week I have -
1) crossed wires with my boss who was disappointed that I hadn't told him that I was struggling before Christmas. His role is one of care for colleagues - it is different to say your manager in the office, although even there they are supposed to be able to respond to personal issues, but probably only when it gets to affect your actual work. I had shared with colleagues nearer to me after all.
2) had a really useful doctor's review, changed meds and received orders to go to the gym
3) officially signed off work for 3 weeks
4) signed up for the gym, and been back since!
5) slept lots but not always at night
6) begun to face up to being not the superwoman who can still do stuff despite depressive waves, but being fragile in my wobbles. Only begun though, lots more to do there.

So quite a full week considering.

And today? Well a call last night from the tenant of my flat (well the bank's flat) that the electric shower has died, so I thought I would face a day of chasing things up, but in the end one phonecall to the local electrical firm and now I sit and wait for them to visit and send me a quote. So the morning was in bed with iplayer type telly rather than dashing arond which was good. My legs were also feeling tired from the gym yesterday, and it was according to The Plan a salsa DVD day which I finally got to before tea. Useless, I can't co-ordinate to follow it!  I didn't have to think with the treadmill yesterday, just keep going.

I am also planning to break my leave tomorrow - an opportunity to speak to a high school RE class, this is a new thing and true to my need to be in control I couldn't find it in me to cancel this bit of my diary. I had the plan for what I was doing so no big prep stress, although I have just had an email from the teacher to say the school are dealing with a tragedy, so I may well offer to stay around if that is any use to them. (A bit of a Rev moment when a routine school assembly becames more profound - though unfortunately not watchable at the moment)

In part I would say that it may turn out to be very timely that I - as someone not a staff member - can be around if people need to talk.  Or is that another symptom alongside not being willing to cancel the class visit, that shows my need to be a fixer and a doer, and letting my projects and opportunities become my special babies I am not good at letting go of.

But those are deep thoughts for another day, for today the fact is that it is 10pm and no sign of the queasiness, enough tiredness to sleep when I go to bed, and I didn't have the new shower stress I feared, so a good day.