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’
The start of a new week always holds promise doesn’t it. It’s more than just a new day, a new week is a bigger ‘new start’ than just a new day. I’m really hoping the new week is a good new week. The promise doesn’t last very long. I am meeting Friend AI who is in London for a few more hours and Friend KT. We are having brunch before Friend AI needs to get the train back up north. The problem is, whilst I really want to see my friends, I really don’t want to leave the flat. I desperately really don’t want to leave the flat. My hair is stuck in the position I fell asleep on it so a shower shouldn’t be a negotiable but, it’s shower and don’t leave the flat or more dry shampoo and a wash a la perfume and leave the flat. So, dry shampoo and perfume wash it shall be.
I’ve left it way too late to walk so I hop on the bus. I really don’t want to be doing this. I really want to be at home in the flat, in my smelly pjs with my dressing gown and my cats. This outside world is not for me right now. I’m in a dark mood. I’m also highly irritable but I stay with it and as I am about to arrive, one friend, due to baby tantrums, needs to cancel. I get off and wait for further instructions from Friend AI as to where to meet. We are on a train timetable limit. I’ve not seen her since this crappy situation got this serious so I can’t cancel but a change in plans is stressing me out, big style. We agree to stick to plan A so I grab the last outside table and order a large Americano. What this place doesn’t tell you is that when you ask for a large hot drink, they mean a bowl, yes, a bowl of coffee – It’s ok I tell myself, I’m making up for the weeks of coffee I missed in the hospital! I sit reading whilst waiting for Friend AI. I’m reading (and having to re-read) Jon Ronson’s ‘The Psychopath Test’. I’m not going to lie, I’m somewhat relieved that the check list defining a psychopath doesn’t fit with me, phew, I was genuinely worried! For a non-fiction book, it’s so accessible and if you’ve not read it, I highly recommend it. Even for those of you who have to re-read chapters over and over again!
Friend AI arrives and it’s so good to see her. We’ve been messaging throughout all of this but to actually see her is great. We chat and eat until it’s time for her to head to the station. We decide to walk, which is great as I need the steps, the problem is, Friend AI has got the time of her train wrong. She’s meeting her husband at the station so she can’t miss the train. The walk turns into a run! Thanks Friend AI, I know I need to get fit but legging it through London whist in ballet flats and wearing jeans is not the way I planned to it. A rushed good bye and she hands over a bag. Oooh, a present, yippee. It’s a 30-day happiness challenge, let’s see how this goes!
I start to walk home but I am way too hot (jeans and a jumper was not a thought out outfit of choice for this rare heat wave). I bale on the walking when I’m ½ way home and jump on a bus. I’m feeling ok, ish, about getting the be until a person breaks the London public transport etiquette by sitting next to me even though there are lots of free seats left on the bus. His leg is touching mine. Panic sets in. I get off 4 stops early. Seriously random man. There is a code of conduct, an unwritten rule, a general etiquette to surviving manoeuvring around London. If there are lots of free seats, do not sit next to someone. If you are walking, keep to the side of the pavement, us locals march around the city on only 1 setting, fast! Finally, do not, under any circumstances just stop in the middles of the pavement, Londoners will be thinking about the text they need to reply to or an email they meant to send or what to have for supper, they will not be looking ahead and they will inevitably come close to crashing into you! Rant over, the walk was in my best interest anyway so I shouldn’t complain.
I’m feeling panicky. I can’t explain what it is, but that’s a lie, I can. It’s the work insurance forms, it’s the next few weeks with nothing planned, it’s the extra weight, it’s the fear of ruining a good day (thus ruining said good day). It’s all coming crashing down around me suddenly. I personally blame the man on the bus – it’s easier to blame someone that admit to myself how mad I really am. I am near a pub which has seats outside so I decide to pause to try to calm down a bit. I order a fizzy water and, in the interest of baring all, I order a glass of Rosé wine. It’s cold, not too sweet and exactly what I was craving. Drinking alone is never a good thing, it’s also something that would freak me out if – sitting alone somewhere, what must everyone else think of me? Well sod everyone else, it’s sunny, it’s hot and I am going to slowly sip this and then walk home. My phone battery is running low but sadly not low enough that it’s off. An email comes in and I thank the powers that be that I do have a glass of wine in my hand. It’s from the occupational health department and they want a call with me in 2 weeks. Cue meltdown. Full on, in public, melt down. I message Colleague. Thank goodness, I can as Colleague has been having these calls regularly. OH are on my side, I simply need to tell them how I am, warts and all. They aren’t there to pressurise me, they are on my side. I take a few deep breathes and try to calm myself down. Apparently, these calls should have been taking place monthly since my sick leave began but because I was an inpatient and then a day care patient, they don’t call. The panic level returns to a moderate hum in the background and I head home.
The cleaner has been, which is basically the best feeling in the world to come home too. The place is spick and span. I head straight to change into pjs when I notice I’ve managed to tan just one arm, the right arm, great!
I sit down at the table and get out the work insurance forms. Can I do this? No, I complete 2 questions then need a break. I pull out my laptop and do some blog write ups with a cat snuggled on my lap. The insurance forms are going to have to wait for another day.
I don’t have anything planned for tomorrow. This could be a mistake. I head to bed. The forms really do need to be tackled tomorrow, but tomorrow is tomorrow so for now, good night Monday!