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’
Before you think today’s write up is going to start off positively, let me shatter that for you right now. I’ve had yet more crappy sleep, come on brain, give me a break, I am begging you. Did you know that being this sleep deprived hurts? Not just mentally, no, physically too. I am in pain from being this tired. I get up later than my alarms but still prior to 09:00. I have breakfast as planned but can’t, just can’t keep awake. I pad back to bed for an hour and then I’ll commence the weekly walk to the station for lunch with Friend GG.
Best laid plans have gone awry again. 1 hour turns into 2 hours. I needed it, obviously but I am now running late to catch the train to meet Friend GG. Weekly trains and lunches have been factored into this month’s budget so I can do it guilt free and credit card free. I consider cancelling. I mean, I am going to be late anyway so why not just stay wrapped up under the duvet today? Somehow, I peel myself off the bed and throw on some clothes that I hope look like a proper outfit. Given the time, I am going to have to catch the bus – I consider getting a taxi to the station before remembering this month’s budget it already too tight, taxi isn’t going to help it. An hour later than planned, I am walking into an Italian deli to meet Friend GG. I am so tired I am not sure I even greet her. I think I mumble something that somewhat resembles hi. My chat game is on poor form today. I feel for Friend GG, she’s going to have to put up with some potentially incoherently mumbling for the next 2 ½ hours. Lunch is aubergine ravioli. I needed something hot given the end of the British summer. The heat wave is officially over and we have been plunged back to strong, cold winds with horizontal rain. After lunch, we have a coffee and then it’s time for her to go back to work. I head to the station and ponder on salvaging some of the days tasks when I get off the train. The step count has taken a bit of a nose dive in the last few days so that needs addressing but there are also some errands that need sorting.
I pull into London and the bus I didn’t even know I could catch is sat there waiting. It’s a sign (I know, it’s not really a sign, it’s just how London bus’s work but hey, I’m taking it as a sign to be lazy). The bus gets me home about 10 minutes quicker than walking, it wasn’t even worth it. Note to self next time, just bloody walk!
Once in the door, it’s straight into pjs and, given the departure of summer, back into the winter dressing gown, yes, on the 6th June! Well done UK, we managed 3 whole weeks this time. My mind is a bit all over the place so I decide not to turn the TV on for company. Instead, I turn on some music. I need to do this more. It’s remarkable how I can sit on the sofa staring at the TV for hours whilst not taking any of it in. At least with music, you can justifiably sit and let your mind wander. I start reading but it’s slow going. I am getting better at concentrating but it still takes some going. The landline then rings. Like a lot of people these days, I rely 99.9% of the time on my mobile. This means, when the land line rings, it’s one of 3 people:
- Mum – do not answer, it’s not Wednesday or Sunday
- Aunt – maybe answer, not sure how that conversation will go
- Telemarketer – do not answer, any day of the week
I look at the number and it is option 2. I toy with not answering it but, just as it clicks onto answering machine I do. She’s delighted to hear my voice but instantly rebuffs that by telling my off for not replying to her emails. Ah Aunt, I am sorry but you are at the end of a very long list of people I am meant to have made contact with recently but just can’t face. Like everyone, she wants to know how I am doing. I need to think of a good stand by answer for this question. Understandably, it’s the question everyone asks me but finding the words to correctly sum up my mind is hard. I change the subject to Sister, Father and anyone else that will mean she stops asking me about me. It works. Finally, she asks if Father has been in touch. Yes, he has. He wants me to join him in the middle of nowhere in Wales to ‘bond’. I have a brainwave. Can she join us? If she is there, the statistical likelihood of Father and I coming off the mountain in one piece dramatically improves. She’s guessed this question was coming, no, she thinks she’s busy. But Aunt, that’s a lie! We haven’t even fixed a date yet. How can you be busy if it’s still to be confirmed? I think there may have been some family discussions behind my back about this Wales trip. Yay! She tells me she’ll call again. I can’t wait!
I’m cold, and not only with fear of being alone with Father for a few days. I decide that I can have a bath. No need to earn it, just have a bath because I want a bath. Let’s go the full hog and light a candle and play some soothing music. The cats are amused and perplexed by a bath. Yes, to non-cat owners, my cats do join me in the bathroom. Think of them like little kids, can you pee in peace? No? Well neither can a cat owner. Same logic applies for bathing. The balance precariously on the edge of the bath and sit staring at me. It’s somewhat unnerving and I wonder how long I can tempt fate that one of them won’t fall in. Today’s not fates time, I win and leave the bath sans wet cats. I start blog write ups next. I’ve not been good at keeping on top of them recently. They massively help me and I love it when I get comments (hint hint guys). But, like I mentioned a few posts ago, some old habits are slipping in and that includes on the self-help front of writing. I can’t explain how or why typing helps. I think at least a little part of it is the satisfaction of pounding my fingers on a keyboard. Something I am normally doing for many hours a day at work (but with a lot less sarcasm and bare faced honesty). Note to self, keep typing!
Friend LR cancels tomorrow’s lunch time walk as she’s not well. To be honest, this is good, it means I can spend the day in the flat. (No, I shouldn’t be planning to spend whole days in the flat, yes, I should be pushing myself to get out the house and moving. No, the likelihood of this now happening is very low – if I were you, I’d place a bet on tomorrow’s write up!).
That’s Tuesday over and done with. I am desperate for some good quality sleep tonight. Please, please, PLEASE to the gods/ almighty beings/ kings/ whatever-else-is-out-there of sleep please hear me tonight.