🎵 Friday, Happy Days The Weekend Comes, My Cycle Hums 🎶

This is a blog about depression. If you are easily offended or take offence to my very sarcastic humour, please do not read any further. Mental illness is not a joke; it is not something to point fun at and I fully understand that. BUT…when the going gets tough, sarcasm and humour is my defence and so I will be parading it around all over this blog.

 

If you need help, please get it. Whilst I hope this has a happy ending, I don’t know yet and given I’ve not been able to fix myself, I really don’t want others using this as a ‘How To Be Happy for Beginners v2.0’

 

 

 

It’s Friday, the last day of the working week. If I can make it outside, I’ll have considered this week not only a success but a pretty damn awesome success. The weather forecast is awful so Friend CT and I arrange to meet somewhere different than planned. We were going to go for a walk around a park. I look up where I am going and realise, I can walk it in 50 minutes. The weather is grey but the rain hasn’t materialised just yet. I quickly scramble to get dressed and apply some more dry shampoo before marching out the door. I am on a roll with the walking but it’s fragile. I know it could come crashing down around me at any moment. I’ve prepared Friend CT that I reserve the right to turn up with greasy hair. She is amazing about it. Friends support is so important when fighting yourself. Friend CT and I have a similar sense of humour to her reply is perfect!

 

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We sit and chat over my infamous poncey coffee. I urge you all to try almond milk in your coffee just once. It has nothing to do with not wanting dairy, I love a glass of cold milk, but the nutty taste in the coffee is a perfect compliment. Friend CT notes that I am more animated in comparison to when she last saw me. It’s true, I feel it. I think the walking and going outside is starting to work its magic. We decide to stay put for lunch and whilst I’d love to scoff a cheesey panini followed by the peanut butter cake I spied on my way in, I order a lentil salad with a slice of bread. Very healthy if I do say so myself. Today is day 8 of being binge free. The more days I stack up, the more chance I have of getting through this. Also, the more chance I’ll get out the obese range! I notice the time and need to make a dash. Friend CT and I will meet again as I am hoping I can keep her company on her Friday’s off! Maybe we can also share a slice of peanut butter cake.

 

 

It’s a quick march via some streets I never knew existed and I meet Friend MI. She’s been a huge support and in my corner from day 1 of this starting. What she does say though, is she knew things were tough but she hadn’t joined the dots as to how tough. Friend ML said last night that Mentor AS and her felt the same, they hadn’t spotted how bad things in my head really were. I understand, there probably were some indicators but they’d have been subtle. I didn’t realise how ill I was so it’s not surprising others didn’t spot it. Whilst in hospital, a patient told me about a new training initiative called Mental Health First Aid (MHFA). I wonder if, once I am back in the office, I could speak to our HR team and try to get some training in place at the office. It makes complete sense to train people in how to spot the signs. We train at least a couple of people per floor on first aid, why shouldn’t that include all our health, not just physical? Friend MI and I talk about a recent blog post. I likened the 6 week crisis team wait to being told to hobble on a broken leg with no support for 6 weeks until you can have an X-ray. Friend MI points out it’s nothing like a broken leg, it should be compared to having a heart attack and being told to wait. I ponder this and realise she’s right. A crisis is, by its very definition, a crisis. The person is at breaking point and the only way out of hell is death. It needs to be treated with the same urgent response as other life threating illnesses.

 

It’s still not raining so I walk to the station to collect a book. Once collected, I could walk home or I could get the bus. Both are tough in very different ways. I decide to get the bus, it’s not yet school kicking out time so the bus won’t be that busy. Plus, I’m already over 13,000 steps. Bus it is. I get off a stop early and walk the rest of the way as a token nod to having walked all the way home.

 

I immediately get into pjs and my dressing gown. Tomorrow, Saturday, is planned to be a pj day but I’m playing with the idea of unwrapping the new trainers and starting the NHS ‘Couch to 5k’ training. Anyway, tonight is tonight and I am now at 14,000 steps. I have an afternoon snack, watch a film and then supper. All on track and another day binge free. I decide to have an early night so wash down my night meds and start reading. My mood is a bit all over the place so I am hoping a good night’s sleep will make everything better.

 

p.s. if you don’t recognise today’s title, google the 80’s show ‘Happy Days’ – TV gold!

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