Stop the Clock: on springing and falling backwards and forwards

Go on, admit it, how many of you read that title as Stop the Cock? Just me? I mean I know I wrote it... 

Every Spring we are cheerily reminded that the clocks 'spring forward' for the next six months until the doom-sayers will pipe up and remind us the clocks must "fall back". 
We spring forward into longer days and sunshine (in between those April showers) but fall right back into cold, dark, wet and, disappointingly, snow free nights before we have even used up the last of our suntan lotion. WHERE was our bloody summer? 
But it's all about perspective isn't it? Marian Keyes has a campaign on Twitter #peopleaginspring, which bemoans the longer days and the warmth of the sun: the movement represents those of the World, yes, those who are wrong, who prefer winter. Perhaps in Marian's World the clocks would fall forward into winter and spring back to summer because the blasted summer always has to pull us out of comforting, cosy winter and force our pasty skin into the light. Personally, I prefer Spring and Autumn, both have the promise of change and a mixture of weather, which is much how life feels every day.


Perspective is always important but never more so than when you feel you are taking a backwards step. In fact, in life there are no backwards steps, we cannot physically go back in time, we also cannot fast forward time, we are always, undeniably, right here, right now. 
And so, when I made the decision to go 'back' on anti depressants this week, I chose to imagine I am springing back on them to prevent myself from falling forwards into that crevice I'm wobbling atop. I haven't fallen back on them like some accident. I've made an active, conscious decision (with the help of my Mother) to do something whilst I am able to, so that I don't find myself in danger at the bottom of a well without even the energy to muster the voice needed to cry for someone to help pull me up. Which is what depression, at it's worst, can feel like for me. 


I'm okay, I'm not worried about me and neither should you be. In that magic way that an iPhone can change time zones whilst you're sitting unknowing in an aeroplane, or jump from winter to summertime as you sleep, life can sometimes trigger an algorithm in my brain that sets off a way of thinking that confuses the rest of my programming. And when that happens, it's good to fix the problem before the bug spreads or a bloody hacker gets in. Jesus, when did I get so tech savvy? Literally one month ago I didn't even know how the trackpad on my Macbook worked, despite owning it for eight months already, and now I'm all computer programming whiz-kid. I've changed. 
And I have changed because whenever I have a little glitch in my computer system I learn a little bit more about how the rest of me works. So, even as I feel my mood changing and try to sidle out of my Mothers concerned gaze, I can recognise when it's time to redesign the website, or at least reboot it to prevent a serious server crash; or something less geeky. Which is why it was with a spring in my step that I took the first tablet yesterday, a tablet that I know will lead to longer and sunnier days, just like the changing clock already has (okay, sunshine isn't guaranteed). 

The seasons will change and with them the weather, so we might as well accept that fact and maybe check the weather forecast every once in a while, so we can try to wear weather appropriate clothes; where fashion will allow, of course.

Maybe pop an umbrella in your bag; this is England, after all. You might not always need that umbrella but if you’re caught in a storm there is no way to walk around it, you have to walk straight through, and you might as well do whatever you can to make that walk a little less, well, wet, but also less difficult.

Summer is coming but you’ll probably still need that umbrella.