Customer feedback this week;
‘Please can you get some more diversity at the National Trust by encouraging more hot men to visit.’
Ideas for how we do this v welcome. Nothing too racy please - we are the National Trust not the National Tryst.
Seems important that in Fahrenheit 451, books were still “available” in single-paragraph summaries—“read Hamlet in five minutes!”—but the books themselves had been banned for being too difficult. Tech boosters see a warning and think it’s an instruction manual.
I think I dreamt last week that @itsmattchin got a 50 on first class or Test debut, with Joe Root at the other end? Followed by an emergency @TailendersPod to discuss how it came about..
(how it came about = Bethell's 50 + @TheBarmyArmy's Brimful of Ashes + sleep deprivation)
In retrospect Rory Gilmore as the underemployed flailing journalist who can’t wrap her mind around that because she used to be the gifted & talented kid was perhaps just a couple years ahead of it’s time
Graham Thorpe's death, with the devastating mental health troubles he had, is dreadfully sad.
I know from experience that the hardest time to talk to people is when you're at your lowest. It's easy to tell people that they must speak up, but much harder to do.
I had real struggles for 18 months in the early 2000s. I never considered suicide, so I'm not trying to make out that my issues were anywhere near as bad a Thorpey's.
But, if you've never been in that black fog of negativity, mental fatigue, feeling like you're operating on a permanent 1% battery status, wanting to lock yourself away and, if you did go out, feeling a sense of paranoia that everyone is looking at you and negatively judging you (when they are not).
I found myself resenting people that told me to snap out of it. That approach, to me anyway, made me feel worse and perversely more inclined to stay the same. "If I could snap out of this, don't you think I would!?"
You find people stay away as they don't know what to say. It's difficult to be the friend of someone that is struggling. There are few upsides.
And, when you really have to, you paint on an 'I'm fine' face and pretend, largely to protect those you love from the truth of how you feel.
I was lucky. I gradually came out the other side, started to throw myself into things that gave my mind some release. And, when I was ready, I started to talk to people.
And it was that talking to people, hearing my words out loud, with no judgement coming back the other way, that made me get better. I think it was only when I vocalised it that I properly recognised my situation and worked out what I needed to do.
Gradually my world got better, or the bit that I inhabited did. And you learn to spot the signs that you might be struggling again and work out how to cope. And, in the end, the coping, living better and moving forward in life becomes the norm.
It's not easy, but it's easier than you think at the time. Someone else telling you to talk probably won't encourage you to speak. But keep that thought between those ears, talk when you're able, go at your own pace and you'll be ok. You really will.
Because there are people that love you, like you a bit, value you, would miss you, and want you around. And there are things to do, see and enjoy in the future.
I hadn't intended to write all of that today, but I absolutely loved Graham Thorpe as a player. He meant something to me as a cricket lover. His passing is too sad for words.
I think my experience 20+ years ago ultimately, and weirdly, made me more empathetic, grateful and happy. And, it really is good to talk about it. Even now, it reminds me to never take my mental health for granted, and that's a good thing. Writing this stream of consciousness is therapy, of sorts.
Look after yourselves badgers around the world, much love and RIP Thorpey ♥️