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’
Saturday morning starts badly. The severe lack of sleep means I am in a bad mood. I know that everyone struggles with mood if they’ve slept badly so I’m not a ‘freak’ but still, I would really like to have not felt hungover today. Especially the feeling of being hungover when I’ve not had any drink! I am meant to be seeing Friend ML today, she’s messaged but I’ve ignored it so far. Mum is also on her way to Sister’s house. Sister has messaged which I am also ignoring. Ignoring maybe the theme of the day!
I’m still in pjs but as it’s the weekend, it’s a treat breakfast of crumpets. Never trust anyone who doesn’t like buttery crumpets. Turns out, the Warburton cumpets I had this morning have magic powers. The buttery, crumpety goodness has made me see sense and I reply to both Sister – no I am not coming over – and to Friend ML – no I don’t think I can leave the house. BUT! If you fancy the shitty task of helping me declutter my clothes, you’d be welcome to give up your sunny Saturday. Strangely, this is an appealing offer to Friend ML and so over she comes. Maybe I am not the crazy one!
To get the sorting underway, I do what everyone should do, open some pink bubbles. This is partial payment to Friend ML for giving up her sunny afternoon to help a greasy haired and somewhat smelly friend (I’ve had a perfume shower before he arrived). It’s not that I need Friend ML to do the sorting, it’s that I need someone to stand in the room whilst I do it so I’m held accountable. Also, someone to take a rational view point of what I do need anymore. An example being some size 00 mustard jeans purchased when I was in NYC 4 years ago. There is no way I’ll be a size 00 or 0 or any other silly number unless I return to the depths of an eating disorder. Given I’ve got enough on my plate with my health at the moment, I don’t intend to do this again in my lifetime. Yes, the jeans were expensive, yes they are nice but, there is no need for them to be stored in my wardrobe. Charity shop it is. Similar discussions happen with 2, yes 2 pairs of boots that I have bought in a size too small. Even though they are expensive, there is no amount of pushing and pulling that is going to make them fit (think ugly sister scene from Cinderella!). Mum has smaller feet and given they don’t fit Friend ML (a sure sign they were never going to fit me), they get bagged up for Mum.
There are some blazers and other bits that I may fit back into one day but given it’s not going to be in the imminent future, Friend ML gets a goody bag of clothes! Throughout this I was also looking for my fountain pen but it hasn’t materialized. Instead I have found the gold pen set Mum gave me… didn’t even know I’d lost them! Oopsie.
All this sorting has generated 3 recycling bags and 2 bin bags. It has also meant Friend ML and I are hungry and somewhat tipsy. Indian take away it is. I am so pleased she came over today. No, it’s not been perfect, yes, the punitive thoughts were having a blast in my head but, de-cluttering feels so good. If Friend ML hadn’t come over, the day could have gone even further south. Another bonus of Friend ML being here is, when Mum calls asking more favours, Friend ML is sat there telling me to hang up and take care of me first.
Whilst we are finishing the take away, the first news breaks of the terror attacks in London. Then, rapidly, more news starts flooding in. It’s shocking and so absolutely horrifying that this is the world we live in. The attacks aren’t too far from my flat and once Friend ML heads home, I start watching the live news coverage. To add to this, the work security protocol has kicked in. Somehow, this attack feels too close to home. I don’t mean that in only a literal sense. The bars and restaurants are ones I’ve been to many a time, I’ve crossed London Bridge more times than I can count. It’s scary and it makes it feel very real.
To anyone impacted by the attacks, my thoughts are with you all. London will not be broken by these atrocities and we will continue to stand together.
I was up until 02:30 watching the news coverage but there was a minor consolation, I have now found my fountain pen! I am sure you were all worrying just as much as I was. It was found having dropped into an A4 lever arch file in the study. It wasn’t a sensible idea to stay up that late due to lack of sleep being compounded by more lack of sleep but also, I think that I can get too caught up in the news. The images and coverage was repeating itself and whilst I am thankful we live in an age where information is immediately available, I don’t know that watching live coverage for hours on end is a good idea.
I turn the news off in favour of some lighter entertainment. I also decide that I don’t need to ‘earn’ the right to colour, I can just colour because I want to. I’ve not coloured in nearly a month, which is ridiculous given it’s an activity that distracts me and makes me feel a sense of accomplishment.
You may have noticed that I’ve not mentioned breakfast or getting dressed. Breakfast was some more magical buttery crumpets but the wash never happened. I think this is day 5 but hey, never mind! Who wants a clean friend anyway? I’ll have a bath later, yes, that’s what I’ll do.
The day passes with some tv, some colouring, some life admin but no washing. In fact, I am still in pjs. Oh dear. I do want a bath but then the One Love Manchester concert is being broadcast so, instead, I sit and watch that. Please tell me that I am not the only one sat in their lounge balling like a baby whilst watching this? It’s like Comic Relief, they get me every time!
The concert is followed by the news and I have fallen into the trap of watching it again. In an act of defiance, even though it’s 23:40, I run a bath. I get in and take some deep breathes. I realise my face is wet – yes, I do realise that the point of being in a bath is to get wet but bear with me – I’m crying. I don’t know why but it’s streaming down my cheeks. I submerge myself as surely the logic is that if I’m underwater, it doesn’t count as crying, right? Bath salts, hair removal and hair washing done, it’s time to put some body oil on and get into bed. To add to it, I’ll even brush my teeth and spritz my room with some lovely Neom spray (Still going, thanks Friend KM). This is surely a perfect recipe for a good night’s sleep? Well, you’d be wrong. Turns out no one told my insomnia it was time to take a hike and get lost. I am up for no real reason until 04:30. Funnily enough, at this time in the morning, when the rest of the country feels like they are asleep, one can start to feel very lonely. I’ve said many a time that life decisions really shouldn’t be made in the early hours of the morning but I’ve somehow forgotten my own advice. I’m stewing over my career, my friends, my money, my weight and my loneliness. This is really not good given I have a psychologist appointment at 09:00 today with the psychologist I don’t feel is really doing me any good. Great – and yes, there probably a link between the lack of sleep and my feelings about going back to see Therapist L. Looks like all my crazy planning for the day isn’t going to happen. I’ll be a walking zombie. It also means it’s unlikely I’ll break the psychological barrier I’ve put between me and returning to the pool. Bugger.
I’m still struggling to do this task! Ggrrr.