When I was at junior school, we learned how to knit in home economics while the boys took woodwork down the hall.
My mum helped me practise my plain knit and my purl, and I remember creating a rather lopsided teddy bear out of chocolate brown yarn.
By the time I reached my teens, I wouldn"t have dreamed of admitting that I knew what to do with a pair of size 5s and a 50g ball of extra chunky.
Therapy: Rin Simpson yarned her way through a break-up
Knitting was something old ladies did and not something I"d have any more to do with until I got my bus pass and my pension book.
So if you"d told me, as I headed into my 30s, that knitting would become so much more than a hobby to me - that it would be a kind of therapy as I faced the heartbreak of divorce - I never would have believed you.
I got married young, straight out of university, and for the first few years all was well. My husband and I fought sometimes, but who doesn"t? For the most part, we were the couple everyone said would make it: passionate and the best of friends.
But change, as they say, is the only constant in life and change came into our marriage. Suddenly, the fights weren"t occasional, they were joined by periods of angry silence. Worse, there was a growing distance between us that I couldn"t change.
My husband took a job in Pembrokeshire, more than 100 miles away from our home in Bristol. Having never lived on my own, I was faced with an empty house from Sunday to Friday.
More...Everyone"s doing it: Knitting in pubs
Not one to mope about, I threw myself into socialising, started no end of projects, made lists of chores to get through so that the house would be a haven for him to come home to. But there was always a moment when the friends were gone and the carpets vacuumed, when the silence would descend.
I"d pour myself a glass of wine, shut myself in the living room and stick on a DVD. I got through hundreds of DVDs in those last few months of so-called married life.
And then one night, I decided I would start to knit. And something strange happened. As I cast on and began the repetitive process of layering up row upon row of stitches, I began to relax.
My ears on the TV, my hands on my work and my eyes flicking between the two, I found that I could pass hours in this way without dwelling on why my husband hadn"t called, or whether we"d manage to get through the coming weekend without a row.
That first project - a cheerful scarf in all the colours of the rainbow - was followed by a second and a third.
"Now I don"t dread the odd evening when I"m not seeing friends or doing chores"
All fairly basic, I simply chose yarns I thought were pretty, picked a likely looking pair of needles from a bundle I inherited from my grandmother, and set to work.
But the feeling of control over even this small thing, the satisfaction of creating something, was captivating.
Not surprising, given how many experts agree knitting is good for you. Researchers at the Mayo Clinic in Minnesota, U.S., found that knitting can delay memory loss, while a study at the Mind/Body Centre for Women"s Health at Harvard Medical School showed that the repetitive motion of knitting elicits a relaxation response, lowering blood pressure by creating a feeling of serenity.
Sometimes, a complicated pattern demands every ounce of concentration, making it the perfect distraction from life.
Other times, knitting is a mindless task that allows you to think. And these days, there"s even a social aspect, as women get together for Stitch "n" Bitch sessions that encourage friendships and sharing.
Sadly, even as my new hobby went from strength to strength, my marriage was getting weaker. Something had to change. Two months later, in May last year, my husband finally left.
Though there was relief that such an unhappy situation was at an end, there was also sadness like I had never known before.
The life we"d built, the future we had dreamed of, the many happy moments we had shared were all gone.
Friends, family and my faith conspired to keep me going through those initial weeks as I learned for the first time how to be an adult - how to pay bills and get the car MOT"d, and even how to unblock a toilet.
But there were still plenty of long, lonely evenings when it would have been easy to let a glass of wine become a bottle of wine.
Luckily, it"s difficult to hold a glass when you"ve got your hands full of needles and yarn. The list of completed projects grew, from scarves and hats to baby jumpers and a cardigan for myself.
With my hands busy, my mind was free to wander, and in this safe, relaxed way I began to process, to work through some of the hurt and the heartbreak.
It"s been more than nine months since my husband left, and my life is looking very different from what it was.
For one thing, I don"t dread the odd evening when I"m not seeing friends or doing chores - in fact, I can"t wait for those times when I can snuggle up on my sofa and get a few more rows of my latest project done.
I"ve also started a job as an art and craft teacher with young offenders in a local prison. I"m hoping to find a way to bring knitting into my lessons before long. After all, I know first hand how therapeutic it can be.
No comments:
Post a Comment