And so it continues, being on the Brink of Bedlam that is….literally. I’ve been a bit up and down recently and not in a good ‘Let’s have a laugh mucking about on a see-saw’ kind of way either. I’m rather prone to depression and have been suffering a little recently so,
It’s off to the GP I go!’ *sing in a 7 Dwarves cheerful fashion*
I think a change of meds and a change of lifestyle will help. I also think writing down my goals, plans and thoughts will make me feel more positive and braver as a result. I can face challenges and I can come out of this a better person.
And so…Plan A – go to my lovely friendly danish gp and ask for a change of meds. I still trust her even though she said, and I quote: ‘I stab everyone’ before she gave me my flu jab.
Plan B – Go to my local charity shop and see if they’ll let me help out. This will give me work experience, enable me to have conversations with people instead of pets and there’s a 6ft transvestite who works there who I think might be nice. I see him/her in the mornings walking down the hill and he/she always smiles and looks friendly. He/She’s always impeccably dressed and I’m always curious about people who dare to be different.
Plan C – Visit the job centre and stare hopefully at the computers. I shall ask the computers to tell me about local jobs and I will absolutely not swear at the screens when they tell me there’s loads of jobs out there…..in Hertfordshire, or at the North Pole and only for people who can speak Japanese and can drive their own car etc etc.
Plan D – Raid google for local groups I can get to. I can’t knit, but I’m planning on finding out about the local Knit and Natter posse. I’m hoping they will have a space in their heart for someone who has only ever knitted 6 inch squares from scraps that are then sewn into patchwork style blankets. I did this about 30 years ago with Guides and I was never very good at it, but as long as they have coffee and biscuits there I’ll be fine. I’ll just clatter the knitting needles together a bit and have awkward conversations with OAPs – anything is better than sitting in this bl**dy house on my own any more.
Plan E – Tidy the house. This will make me happier. Falling over stuff may be funny in slapstick comedies, but I’m going to break my neck if I don’t move the bookalanche at the top of the stairs. Gawd they’re slippery if you get a load of the shiny backed ones in a sliding stack and stand on them.
Plan F – Eat sensibly. I have to feed the kids properly so I do organise one decent meal a day so that’s good at least. During the day though, I have been known to massacre a jar of Nutella with a teaspoon, and just drink tea, which is stupid. Plus if you drink too much tea, you spend all day thinking that you need the loo…again.
Plan G – Stop sleeping all the time! I have heard it said that the hallmark of depression is sleeplessness or insommnia. For me, it is the opposite. I can’t keep my eyes open. After having dropped the kids off at school I have been known to sleep for hours and hours because I feel there is no point being awake. This is no way to live. For the sake of my kids, my husband, my dog and my cat, changes must be made.
Plan H – Be positive and be confident. It’s all alright really and I’m alright really. I should stop telling myself that it’s not and that I’m not.
Plan I – Do the above. Write about the little victories. Seize the day, or the knitting needles, or the new meds, or the pile of washing. Seize it all. Get my life back . And write more. Because writing means I’m mentally putting myself ‘out there’ again which is a therapy of sorts for me, and because I love the written word as much as I hate housework: and I mean that with a passion.
And so…..wish me luck 🙂