2023 — the Year of Recovery
An ongoing process for all of us.
*** This post contains themes that can cause upset and trigger trauma, as I will talk about grief, death and suicide at various points throughout. ***
UK Samaritans are open 24/7 for anyone who needs to talk — 116 123
US Samaritans are open 24/7 for anyone who needs to talk — 988
HR Centar za krizna stanja i prevenciju suicida 24/7–01 2376 470
2022’s review (which also contains sensitive themes) was a tough one to write, to read, reread and read once more before writing this one.
Thankfully, 2023 was no way near as tough. It has been a year where I had to rebuild certain things, where I was continuously challenged until I could breathe normally again.
There were still moments of extreme anxiety and panic, but as the year went on, as my resilience and my ability to rationalize things developed and grew, I found myself finishing the year stronger than before. With scars from 2022, that continue to heal, with memories that continue to pop up on a daily basis, but with a clarity that just wasn’t there a year ago.
Before starting, writing helps me so much when it comes to dealing with certain things. I write primarily for myself, as a type of therapy, but choose themes that are important and hope that by being open and honest that maybe they can help others talk about things.
Since being in Split, a big supporter of me writing and of my writing is Julia, and I have to say a special thanks to her for being such a special friend, especially since the events of October 2022. The conversations we’ve had I wouldn’t wish on anyone, but it has kept me moving forward and upwards, and I hope I’ve supported her similarly.
A bumpy start
At the beginning of Jan we returned from a fantastic week in Finland. A youth exchange as part of the youth club I run. However a trip so bittersweet, where you could see the joy and wonder in so many eyes as that snow came down, but the sorrow and sadness in others as one kid who was meant to be there, wasn’t there.
Triggers happened throughout the week. I watched some of the members more intently than others. Then that Arctic Monkeys song came on. I welled up, I saw them supporting each other, it got a bit much and one removed themselves. Panic mode kicks in a little, but WhatsApp was there. We’d be fine, right?
I came back from that trip drained, and again I started waking up having panic attacks. I knew I had to get a grip of that situation, and figure out quickly how to, so I started writing more, analysing my teenage years, and looking at those triggers and how I could self regulate a little more. With time it worked, and by time I mean 10 more months.
A few weeks later I went to the UK. I hadn’t told the people I was going to see what had happened over the last few months — I’d had enough of sharing that kind of news over the phone. But when I was there in person, and heard of other struggles, I decided to share my own. How could I be annoyed at them for not sharing, when I was doing the same?
Protecting people from certain news can often stop the support some people might need. How do we know when it’s appropriate to open up and when not to?
Times passed, conversations continued, I was still on full alert.
On the 8th March there was news of another suicide. This time a girl, same age, known to some of our youth club members, I didn’t know her. I was sad, but in a distant way. Knowing that people were going through what we had been through five months earlier was the worst thing. I wasn’t going to shy away, and when I saw those members who knew her, I spoke to them about it, and they shared their feelings and thoughts.
Springtime
Winter is my least favourite season as you probably know, although in Croatia it’s a whole lot better than in England. When spring arrived I tried to find that spring in my step too, but the build up to the six month mark was wearing me down.
First of all, I went back to Porto for a business meeting. The place where I got the call. I had some flashbacks but we were staying in a different place with different people, so I didn’t go to the same venue. Although it’s a vivid place I can recall whenever I want. The gate, the drive, the building, the backyard. The conversations and the tears.
A day before the six month mark and on the day itself I was frantically messaging whilst staying calm, all those I was worried about. I wanted to know they were all at home, in their beds, playing some stupid game on the mobile phone, but I couldn’t just ask that.
The next day my Dad and Nan arrived, they were fine, and so was everyone else.
There was that paradox though. I was worried about the 13 to 17 year olds whilst this 93 year old flies after a few years of covid isolation to see my new home. We had a great week together, she met my friends and saw what I did, we visited some old places and some new.
Her being here and me getting over that six month period, was the start of some true healing. I am not sure why, but something changed watching her move around at 93 reminded me that I had a whole life to live still.
I started being outdoors more — I planted my first summer garden on 1st May, and what a garden it turned out to be. I started running again. I was a bit more sociable rather than just going to work related events. All those things that kept my stress and anxiety to a minimum from life’s normal shit had been shelved for too long.
I remembered why I moved to here and the life I wanted to create here. Not indoors, in four walls, but with fresh air all around, a mountain view one way and a sea view the other.
With more headspace I could finally process the other horrible news I received — my sister’s diagnosis of MS. She had got the news in October, but delayed telling me because of everything else going on. Up until my mind was clearer, the news didn’t compute at all, I’d batted it away with ‘oh good. we know what caused some of her health issues, all will be fine, she’ll be fine’.
Then things started to settle and I took time to research as well as hear and actually listen to what she was saying. Almost at the same time, we seemed to be moving to a period of understanding, realism and to some degree acceptance, at least in my eyes. We had done our research, had our own reactions, but had also seen there had been a lot of advances in treatment.
There will be shit days, she’s had plenty of those over the past decade, but there’s a lot that can be done to reduce the number of those shit days — so we hope, for example a nice holiday to a stunning place definitely helped, although it wasn’t the right place (the tickets are booked now though)!
Summer
I was into some sort of good flow. The sea was lovely, the beaches calm, I re-established better habits with food and exercise. My bike was being used, my body was being exercised. My mind and brain were working again, I was reading, writing, planning, exploring and chatting.
Of course, the events of 2022 would come back into play, but this time I had more understanding of myself. We had learned a lot more about the lead up to October 2022, including various states of minds and mental health.
We didn’t have all the answers, but those closest had built their own ideas, and everyone had a different opinion. I felt in the middle, connected to the parents and the kids, but them not necessarily connected to each other.
I listened, I read, I gave feedback and different perspectives, I drew on all my empathy. Then I breathed and understood, that I just had to understand. I had to let go as much as possible, otherwise there was no escaping. Understanding it still only sits at 98% today but that’s good enough for me, for now.
In July, we took three kids to Porto, for a youth exchange. This time I was switched on and made sure I enjoyed watching them learn, grow, share. I went Dad mode once — okay that’s harsh on dads, but you know when you don’t listen to the teenage boy asking and think his request is a bit silly. But that’s because you’re an adult now but when you reflect you probably would have made that same request as an excitable teenage boy, but later I apologised, because after all who wouldn’t want to go to Taco Bell and a Porto mall out of town the only time you’re here… (still silly perhaps, but as the nominated responsible adult I watched the seven teens bond like never before and fully enjoy that Taco Bell (which I also ordered okay.).
In August, I was back at the leadership camp after a year off, I had agreed thinking it would be good for me, and it was. I had new skills, new conversations, a heightened ability to listen and negotiate. It wasn’t an easy two weeks of teenage angst and worry in a new place with new people, but they felt safe to discuss things and relax more than perhaps in their hometowns.
A year after the business merger had collapsed, I also realised that I hadn’t really processed that. My plan was to get business in September, settle things down and then work through that. But shit happened, and it wasn’t until the autumn that I had time to truly reflect and define my professional future.
Autumn
Just to note, I was working the first eight months of the year because I hardly mentioned it. But in hindsight, a lot of the work I was doing wasn’t really registering like it normally does.
I had hosted numerous conferences, meetings and events, helped organise Hack4Split and a new startups meetup. I was running two new international projects connected to digital skills and active citizenship. I ran a series of workshops about sustainable tourism, kicked off walking tours in Kaštela, and revived Cook Croatia. I qualified as a mental health first aider, visited friends in Slovenia and lost my passport.
But my main project was working with 10 schools on developing their student cooperatives and active citizenship programs, and it wasn’t until autumn when I was able to see what I had done and understand how much I enjoyed the work.
We ran a summer camp for the teachers just before the new school term was about to begin, and then I had the joy of going to each school and seeing first hand what they were working on. New clubs, new products, new ideas. In December I also dragged Nick in to help record 10 videos for them to run crowdfunding campaigns (a grand total of 16000EUR as things stand, not bad for their first time).
But before I get to the end of the year, there was one last date to overcome.
The anniversary of his death.
I’d spoken to all the kids and planned two meetings, one in the morning and one in the afternoon. I’d also spoken to those most affected to find out their plans, and in the build up been pretty blunt asking them certain things. They had their plan to hang out together, somewhere far away from where it happened.
Me on the other hand, wanted to make sure of this. I hadn’t visited that place since before his death. So that evening I went there. I sat and I got lost in my thoughts, I kept an eye open and also checked my messages. The kids didn’t avoid answering me. When I felt safe, when they were safe, I left.
My family and friends visited a week or so after, they have young kids now, but I hope this last year will help me in being a better ‘uncle’ to them with the words and conversations I choose to have with them. I won’t see them often, but when I do I hope I can make it count.
I had booked and organised my trip to Kenya to close out the year. I was looking forward to the adventure. It was going to come when my physical and mental strength were close to 100%, connect me with some good people, get me offline and hiking again, and make me go: “Wow”
I closed the final months of the year reflecting on the recovery, and being able to compare myself in December 2023 to December 2022, to March 2023, to October 2023.
Some things have softened in me, other things have hardened. My resilience has grown and my clarity has too. This has definitely been an accelerated process because of those tragic events of 2022.
I regularly think about him and his parents. I send his dad a message now and then, we were the ones who would chat and meet before. Now not as much.
My sister is finally coming here after five years, but I see her whenever I’m back in the UK too, and stay with her, and make her give me a shoulder massage even when her hands are aching.
We’re all going through our own recovery in one way or another, whether it’s something big or small. Other things happened this year with other family members and friends that have given me highs and lows, but they can be for another day, if ever at all.
These were the events that shaped my year, that made it a year to remember. But also the events that meant that 2024 at the moment looks to be shiny even if I have no idea what’s round the corner.
For now, the plan is that 2024 will be the year of enjoyment. To do things that put a smile on mine and other’s faces. I think that’s a fair request.
UK Samaritans are open 24/7 for anyone who needs to talk — 116 123
US Samaritans are open 24/7 for anyone who needs to talk — 988
HR Centar za krizna stanja i prevenciju suicida 24/7–01 2376 470
