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Review:
“single is everything in bed
everything
but company”
From ‘single‘ by Sabrina Benaim
After the break up (the final one), I decided I needed space, time away from my normal life, my head and the dangerous comfort of knowing I could just stay in bed and binge on Netflix. I went to Clonakilty for Midterm armed with Depression and other magic tricks by Sabrina Benaim, a notebook and a camera. It was an odd time when I craved solitude but also didn’t want solitude; too much time to think was dangerous but I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer, I didn’t have school to keep me occupied. I guess I could have watched Bridget Jones and and cried with her as she sang ‘Without you’ into her hairbrush microphone, but that has never been my style, more importantly I still felt I had no right to cry.
This book had been recommended to me by a friend who has depression. She felt it was the best example of an honest discussion of what it feels like to have depression and all the ups and downs that go with it, in a very (refreshingly) clear, thoughtful and non self-pitying way. Touching on mental health, loneliness and heartache, Depression and other magic tricks proved to be the perfect literary therapy for me, catharsis without the tears.
This break up was particularly hard to get my head around. Firstly I had the guilt of not being able to make it work. The cancellations, lies and realisation that I couldn’t rely on him had obliterated any trust we had, despite our many attempts to repair it. My patience had run out and I wasn’t willing to let him take another break from us to let him ‘sort himself out’ any longer. It didn’t sit well with me. Surely you are there for someone when they need help? Otherwise you are heartless and selfish, right? That’s what you are supposed to do, right?
These feelings were countered by the anger that his mental health issues were being used as a reason for me to stay with him. Emotional manipulation by way of a threat that he might hurt himself if I let him go hit me hard. But I had let him go. My hugs, kisses, embraces, kind words and love couldn’t keep him here (with me or on the planet) if he chose not to be. There’s nothing I can do about it. Then came the sadness of not having someone there to chat to, to send funny videos to, to watch Netflix with or to cuddle, someone there to pick me up the rare times I needed it.
At the B+B I forced myself to go out every day to avoid the cleaning staff and to generally get my money’s worth for the trip. I visited gorgeous markets, a miniature railway, Michael Collins house and tried to interpret friendly barmen. I made the trek to Inchydoney and walked the empty beach until I had blisters. Coming back windswept and weary to my cosy room, I liked knowing Sabrina Benaim was there, waiting for me.
Reading through this short but powerful book I felt comforted, heard and listened to. It also opened my eyes to what it can be like to have depression; to feel lonely but not be able to want or function in the presence of the supposed antidote to loneliness – company. I felt anger at her mother’s inability to comprehend her depression: telling her to turn on the lights if she’s in a dark mood for example (explaining by depression to my mother, a conversation) and saw in myself that expecting someone to fix themselves or be able to function in a way that worked for me was unrealistic. But who was at fault? How useful or relevant is the concept of blame when it comes to depression? We didn’t work. We. End of story.
The two poems that spoke to me most were definitely ‘single‘ and ‘the loneliest sweet potato‘. In ‘single‘ Sabrina describes the feeling and conditions of being newly single in a list format and mentions things like having unshaven legs, not wearing a bra, writing in bed, eating in bed etc all things I had been doing and feeling pathetic for doing. In this way the book is a best friend who hugs you and says “me too” when you are feeling like the most heartless yet heartbroken person in the world. ‘The loneliest sweet potato‘ details Sabrina’s habit of going to the grocery store late at night to pretend that she isn’t alone or feeling alone; that somehow being out in public, not in an empty bed makes it less obvious that you are alone, and the realisation that the bed was not always empty, isn’t as painfully obvious.
Her words are accessible and her description of depression as something that lies to you, that can sometimes seem like a tiny harmless firefly but then morph into a powerful bear that clobbers you is easily understood. When I returned from my trip I read and discussed these poems with as many of my students that I could in class. They loved them. Some asked questions or made comments which seemed ignorant or even insulting eg. “This girl needs therapy” or “This girl has mental problems”, others appreciated that I was providing them with the chance to read texts dealing with issues they were dealing with themselves. I saw it as a good chance to educate, change the terminology we use and the stigma that goes along with ‘owning’ a mental illness. I wanted to help any of the students I have the privilege to teach, that see it’s okay not to feel okay, other people feel the same, you are not weird or ‘mental’, you are not alone.
Depression and other magic tricks – Sabrina Benaim, Button Poetry.
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