Could knitting be bad for you (or can you have too much of a goodthing?)

A short while ago a friend posted a link on Facebook to a blog post about fighting depression.  Now some of my lovely regulars will know that this is an interest of mine.  From time to time I succumb to an attack by the black dog and most recently I wrote on here that it had been particularly bad this winter past and that the dog had brought along the grey donkey of futility.

Getting out more on the Helford river (thank goodness spring is here at last)

Before I dig deep into my view of this blog post, a little word about 'fighting illness'. Generally I don't like the term as it can carry with it the suggestion that all illness is potentially beatable, and almost single handedly to boot, by the person under attack.  True a positive attitude goes a long way, as well as eating healthily, getting enough sleep and excercise along with persuading your doctor to treat you as a partner in your treatment. But it is my belief that we should not suggest to someone that they alone are fighting the illness.  For surely it is cruel to imply that chronic illness or worse, a terminal stage is because they did not fight hard enough.  Nor would I ever suggest to a doctor that many hours googling my condition plus regular bouts of positive thinking replaces his or her seven years in medical school and another  seven post graduate training

But there is a lot we can do and one thing I have learned is that while I was working at an intellectually challenging job involving writing, campaigning, lobbying and the occasional public speaking, knitting was my panacea for almost all my ills.  However, once I was retired and free to knit all day I believe it was threatening to be the cause of a prolonged visit from the black dog, a feeling of uselessness and even agoraphobia.

Soon after writing this post I took stock and decided that rather than sit around waiting for things to happen, for people to ask me to do things that would make me feel  more useful, I would get out and just DO SOMETHING.  I applied to be a volunteer at a local charity and local school. It couldn't do any harm to be more busy could it? To have to fit my selfish life into someone else's time table? Now I'm not saying everything is now brilliant, that I have not looked back since I returned to the world of work (albeit unpaid) but it has helped me not to dwell so much.

St Michaels Mount at Marazion always lifts the spirits

So I ask myself, while there are plenty of articles out there telling us how knitting helped people get over bereavement, a stress related illness or even lowered blood pressure can we actually have too much of a good thing, in fact can knitting be bad for you?

We all know the physical risks, hours of knitting with the same size needles and yarn can risk RSI in the hands and neck problems but what about the psychological?  I'm certainly not saying we should give up knitting but, something that is pretty much true in most aspects of our lives,  I needed to get the balance right.

Taking a break from work for a few weeks just to sit and knit worked well for me in short bursts but hibernating and knitting for days on end was turning me into a recluse.  While not an actual hermit style recluse I had begun to resent anything that took me away from my sofa and my latest project.

Of course I haven't given up knitting totally, while I am now committed two days a week to volunteering (in addition to a couple of forays out to an exercise class) I still have the odd afternoon and many evenings to knit and now I look forward to that time as a treat, not a time when I sit and plough through a project while dwelling on the futility of life.

I have still finished quite a few things in the last couple of months, here are some of them...

A little red, white, and blue hat for Glori to wear to a birthday party for the Queen (pattern coming soon)

The Lattice shawl, a KAL at my local knitting group

Sweet William knitted (and steeked!!) as a cardigan for Isabella to wear at her first birthday party

Vanilla socks using up all my Islington by Kettle yarns leftovers

What do others think?  I would love to know

xx

c

PS I have been sewing a bit lately but more of that later

Under the Weather

It is said that there is always a fault in the beautiful symmetry of a Persian carpet because only God is perfect.  Looking at my old worn carpet from Anatolia in Eastern Turkey there is more wrong with it than the odd bit of asymmetry.

It is positively threadbare, but I still love and value it.  A couple of weeks ago I became far too like my carpet.  There's always been imperfections but also plenty of life but suddenly came the realisation that I was running on empty.  Now I know there are blogs out there where people bare their souls (or discuss their health in great detail) and they often provide a great opportunity for people to unburden or provide cyber group therapy  but a crafty blog is not that medium..  So I won't dwell but I wanted to explain slightly why my knitting is a little grey and wonky at the moment.

Do you see what I mean?  I do wear a lot of muted colours and often my impulse yarn buys are too bright for my taste in clothes but this battleship grey is pretty much the dullest colour I have ever knitted with.  And it is 4ply knitted on 4.5mm needles - deliberately to give it maximum negative ease and a slightly sheer appearance.  But it is sooo hard to knit evenly at such a loose tension.  Never-the-less it is beautiful yarn, Drops Alpaca.

Despite the colour the texture is very soothing.  It is soft, drapey and smooshy, lovely to knit.  And that brings me to knitting as therapy.  A few years ago I read a moving article by Ann Hood in the New York Times, how, after the sudden death of her daughter she was paralysed by grief and could not even read, books having been her life support system until then.  She began to knit and its comforting rhythm allowed her to think and heal.

So I'm not really concerned about the colour of my yarn, or the unevenness   This sweater is knitted in great blocks of stocking stitch, so all I have to do is sit and knit, yoga style, empty my brain and let it reboot.

I shall then soak it and block it and, as I wear it, a lot of the unevenness will work its way out.  Just as I hope that with time, peace, quiet, friends and knitting I too will see the lumps of my life work their way out and allow the colour to come back.  Just like this wonderful colour combination for my next project, colour affection in the Donegal tweed by Countess Ablaze.  And coincidently a perfect match for battleship grey!

xx

C