Part 40 – Jan 2020

Valley View

I can’t believe it’s almost 5 years!

The start of a new decade seems like a good time to update ‘Memoirs of a Nutter’.

The end of the 2010s were marked by two major battles: one against the Department for Work and Pensions (DWP), which I won, and one against the woeful mental health system, which I didn’t.  I will come back to those later.

Since my last blog entry four and a half years ago, I have enjoyed the continued support of my partner, in spite of his own difficulties. Continuing with my self-devised programme of ‘positive activities’ has led to varying degrees of success.  Unfortunately, my aromatherapist moved away but mindfulness still had a positive effect.

I found ways of living with constant depression and anxiety; the overriding issue for me now is without doubt chronic fatigue (CFS).

I modified the demands I placed on myself to accommodate this.  For example, in 2015, I gave up working in the charity shop as even 2 hours a week was too much for me (the bitching didn’t help either).  I followed this with a stint as a volunteer support worker for an ex-associate now running an adult beginners’ IT courses nearby.  Although much more enjoyable and in line with my skills, I could not sustain it.  I ended the year with the realisation that I was not ready for the ‘world of work’ in any form.

Flooded Town Centre

Meanwhile, the town ended the year devastated.  In the aftermath of the now infamous ‘Boxing Day flood’, the whole town centre was submerged, wreaking havoc on homes and businesses.  The effects are still being felt today.

During 2016, I focused my writing on ‘Cool Places’ (published on WordPressⁱ).  By summer 2017, I amassed enough material (both old and new) to compile a book. 

Although I received a few encouraging responses and comments,  getting published seemed impossible without already being famous.  I considered self-publishing via Amazon Kindle but working through KDPⁱⁱ also proved too much for me.  I decided to approach local media to publish extracts.  On contacting Valley Life magazineⁱⁱⁱ , they said yes straight away!

Draper Lane, from Valley Life Magazine

Now into the third year of submitting bi-monthly features to Valley Life, the audience for ‘Cool Places’ has widened to include people who don’t access web-based material.  Although unpaid, I receive positive feedback from friends and acquaintances and can now say I am a published writer, hopefully leading to future work.

2016, however, brought more than its fair share of travails, with early summer being particularly trying.  Amidst the start of the Brexit debacle (who’d have thought what a palaver would ensue over the next three years?) and reeling from the murder of Jo Cox, I lost another brother, making two in 18 months . The circumstances of his death were very different.  He was found face down in a canal, apparently falling while walking on the towpath.  Speculation included suicide, which his ex-wife discounted immediately on the basis that he hated water (this was true; I remember my dad fruitlessly trying to teach him to swim when we were kids), and the ‘canal pusher’ which his estranged daughter irritatingly fixated on.  Some months later, an inquest returned a verdict of ‘unexplained death’, most likely an accident.

A horrendous period ensued.  Mum characteristically ended up in hospital the day after my brother’s body was found.  This left her offspring with the double burdens of arranging the funeral and addressing her needs.  Following a stay in a medical ward, she was transferred to a rehabilitation hospital several miles away.  I arranged a lift from an extended family member.  During the visit, I tried to talk to mum and the care staff about addressing her mental health issues.  It felt as though I got somewhere but as usual, it was one step forward, ten steps back.

After the visit, my lift drove me to mum’s house for a cuppa and an illuminating chat about the brother who died 18 months previously.  Soon after she left, one of my sisters arrived and treated the whole thing as a work project.  Along with our two younger brothers, we dealt with the practicalities of the funeral, and Mum’s aftercare.  Not being in a position to travel over The Pennines on a regular basis, I volunteered to conduct ‘desk research’ into care homes in case she could not cope with returning to her own house, but not before enduring some abuse for interfering.

I remarked that due to mum’s situation, our grieving process was yet again impeded.  None of the others seemed to care that we had lost another brother.  I felt so upset and stressed it was hard to focus on little else for several weeks.  As a cathartic exercise, I wrote a piece of prose about my brother, which eventually formed the basis of a eulogy (i.e. saying words) at the funeral – the only one as it turned out.  My voice cracked at the end of my short speech and although not intentional, I was commended on my performance.  Later, I reflected that in spite of being plagued by ill-health and experiencing diminished brain capacity, I could still deploy those rusty old skills when needed.  My art friend provided some much-needed additional support and very kindly drove me and my partner over The Pennines. We returned via the scenic route and stopped for a drink at a country inn, providing a brief, pleasant diversion.

A few weeks later, Mum returned home and I phoned to see how she was doing.  Straight away, she asked me to rush over and put her in a care home.  I said I was not able to come immediately  but would ring  the places on my list and find vacancies.  I arranged a couple of interviews for the following day and set off the next morning to be with her.  By the end of that day, with help from my youngest brother and the extended family member, we got her to a care home in time for tea.  My brother gave me a lift to Rochdale so I had a mercifully easy journey home, where I collapsed in an exhausted heap.

Maggie's 80th

Thankfully, family troubles quietened down after that; it was a relief to have mum looked after although she ended up being moved to another care home closer to her house (even though she would never go back there!)

A much pleasanter family get-together took place towards the end of the year.  My Aunty Maggie turned 80 in December.  We enjoyed a lovely evening at her birthday party, an amiable overnight stay at mum’s house and  lunch at the fab Indian café with my sister before returning home the next day.

The start of 2017 also entailed family duties.  The cost of care necessitated renting out mum’s house.  Again, I got a lift from my kind art friend,  to help my brother and sister with the clearance.  It took the whole day to sort through cupboards and make piles of stuff to keep, to go to the charity shop or the skip.  We loaded my friend’s car with items we wanted and had dinner at the Indian café before getting lost on the way home thanks to the one-way system!

Flaming Wire, Photography Course

On a personal level, the rest of the year was largely major-incident free.  With no change in my health issues, I made an effort to stay positive and forward-thinking and added activities to my weekly routine which I thought would be of benefit.  My partner gave me a Bridge DSLR for Christmas and in January, I started a creative photography course which helped me develop my skills (sic),  not only did I link these  into my writing projects, I also broadened the scope of my photography and picked up quite a few techniques.  Best of all, I made a new friend who I meet up with quite regularly.

Towards the end of the year, I embarked on a beginner’s adult ballet class, primarily because of its proven benefits for both mental and physical health.

My partner finally persuaded the powers-that-be to make him redundant.  He became officially self-employed in April.  Since then, he has been working on a variety of photography and digital art projects and although not earning enough to pay tax, he is a lot happier.  He has recently joined the gig economy answering on-line questions for shutter stock at a dollar a pop.

Unfortunately, he has also suffered a series of traumatic health issues, the most worrying being a  lump in his neck.  After a year of trekking to ENT at Huddersfield and a roller-coaster of conflicting diagnoses, he was finally told it was not cancer in May 2018.  Soon after, he woke one morning unable to see out of his left eye (the one he uses for taking photos).  He is now half-blind.

In spite of the difficulties, we found amusement following the antics of our elected representatives.  

Not only did the Tories hold the Brexit referendum in June 2016 that we didn’t need to have to drag us out of Europe, they then held an election in July 2017 that they didn’t need to have, resulting in a reduced majority  ( thanks to their own stupid manifesto and plans for the so-called ‘dementia tax’), thus prolonging the agony; and after all that, four years later, we left anyway!

Stoodley Pike Shadow

2018 had some dramatic ups and downs.  Notable fun times involved more Brexit malarkey, a very hot summer which prompted us to undertake longer days out including a long-overdue return to Stoodley Pike, and the World Cup.  My partner had yet more hospital visits, this time concerning his vision after which they concluded there was no point having surgery.  He has adjusted in his usual stoical fashion.

My established pattern of managing my health problems and engaging in constructive activities was disrupted by a re-assessment for Employment Support Allowance (ESA), which proved to be an incredibly drawn-out process.

I will reflect on this more fully in a different blog, but briefly, I completed an assessment form in March and subsequently attended a face-to-face‘ fit for work’ (ATOS) assessment in August.

Sant Andria Beach, Menorca

The day before we flew out for a  holiday in Menorca, a letter from DWP arrived, stating I was ‘fit for work’ and my ESA would stop immediately.  Needless to say, my stress and anxiety levels went through the roof.  I managed to calm down sufficiently to contact Citizens Advice Calderdale (CAB) ^iv for advice who told me what to do and not to worry during my holiday.  Easier said than done!  Still, a spell in a quiet corner of  The Balearics did me no harm.

On our return home, the battle with the DWP dominated the next fifteen months.  At the end of it all,  I attended a tribunal hearing in December 2019, which I won - what a stupid system!

Alongside all this hassle, I decided to have one more go at trying to get to the nub of why my health had not improved very much in the past six years.  I asked the GP to re-do tests to determine if there were any underlying physical reasons for my chronic fatigue and depression.  The results showed nothing other than a vitamin D deficiency (not surprising given it was the dark months in the North of England and addressed by taking a supplement) and pre-diabetes.

This was a complete shock.  I had always thought my diet was relatively balanced and healthy, I hardly went out drinking anymore as it was too expensive and although a bit overweight, I was not obese.  When I got over the initial shock, I felt angry.  Several people I knew had much unhealthier lifestyles, seemed less conscientious about their diet and drank regularly.  I then realised that they could have the condition but not know.  I decided to take control of the situation.  The doctor had referred me to a clinic but while waiting for an appointment, I conducted my own research.  This confirmed my view that the weight (particularly the surplus fat round my middle) was the biggest risk factor and totally reversible.

With the help of the Diabetes UK website^v I put myself on a healthier eating regime.  This entailed making changes I could stick to, rather than cutting out certain foodstuffs altogether, namely, fats, sugar and carbs.  I measured oil for cooking rather than glugging it into sauces, switched to healthier sweet treats such as malt loaf and dark chocolate rather than cream cakes and swapped ‘bad carbs’ for good (for example, brown rice and bread) and weighed out pasta and rice.  The run-up to Christmas is not traditionally a time for calorie-counting.  I was incredibly good for 5 weeks, then didn’t worry too much during the festive period.  And guess what?  I still lost body fat!  With no bathroom scales, I used a tape measure as a gauge.  During the first few weeks, I lost 2 inches off my waist.  Over Christmas and new year, I lost another inch and a half.  Who does that?

I had an appointment at the diabetes prevention clinic in February 2019.  My blood sugars had dropped several points.  They wanted me to go on a course and I initially agreed, but later decided not to.  It would have involved going to the surgery practically every week for about a year, at 10 a.m., for an hour!  The programme they sent me indicated I had dealt with the contents already e.g., sessions on carbs, sugar, fats etc.  Since then, my blood sugar levels have dropped to well within the normal range and my body fat has continued to reduce – so much so that I can wear size 8 skirts and I want it to stop!

As an unintended consequence of the ‘healthier eating’, my partner has also shrunk.  It can be galling when people notice and ask him “have you lost weight?” while I am stood there thinking ‘oi!  What about me!’  The fact is that his metabolism means he needs to eat a lot more than me.  I encourage him to consume extra pies at every opportunity.

Halifax Minster

I had less success addressing the mental health side of things.  I have provided an overview of the key events here, with plans to provide more detail in another blog.

Having determined that there was no underlying physical reason for my chronic conditions, I embarked on yet another odyssey to get proper help.

After a six-month wait I was offered counselling in Halifax.  The tedium of weekly trips to Halifax was alleviated by my partner meeting me for lunch and a visit to the amazingly historic minster.  But it proved patchy and unsustainable.

Due to sometimes being too ill to attend, I was discharged before the end of the therapy, raising my stress levels yet again.  Following a complaint, I was offered a fresh face-to-face assessment, promised to be nearer to home. After more toing and froing, I was eventually offered an appointment at the local health centre.  Predictably, the promise of  ‘a range of options’ was nothing of the kind; it was CBT, counselling or nothing.  The therapist said if I wanted any other kind of help I would have to go back to the GP.  But of course, the GP had nothing else to offer.  So the circle had no end!

In light of the fact that no other help was available, I was persuaded to continue, even though the therapist had doubts that CBT was right for me as I didn’t “like being told what to do”.  I laughed and said that was true..  We eventually  came to an agreement to work on my Chronic Fatigue (CFS).

I mentioned to my GP that I did not have a formal diagnosis of CFS.  Apparently. it was quite a rigmarole involving several trips to the hospital in Leeds, at the end of which, one of the treatments suggested would be CBT so she suggested I give it a go.

I attended the CBT sessions regularly for the next few weeks, trying to keep an open mind but all the time wondering why I was bothering.  The ‘therapy’ for CFS consisted mainly of stuff I had been doing by myself for several years.  I asked “what else have you got?”  Answer: “I don’t have a magic wand”.  i.e., nothing!

We moved onto tackling anxiety.  Similarly, this offered little in the way of new techniques and created a whole pile of homework which took over my life.  With that and the impending tribunal hearing, I hardly had any time to concentrate on my own positive activities such as writing.  My anxiety and frustration levels sky-rocketed and I felt angry all the time!

In spite of success at the benefits tribunal hearing at the start of December, I was totally drained.  I rang to cancel that week’s CBT and decided to take a breather until after New Year.  During the hiatus, I considered if I really wanted to continue  and realised that I was calmer, less angry and less anxious since I stopped going.  Thus the CBT had actually made me feel worse and I discharged myself at the start of January 2020. 

They will probably put me down as a ‘positive outcome’, whereas in truth, I have decided that I am better off dealing with my issues on my own after all.  I want my life back!

References

i.   KDP (Amazon Kindle Direct Publishing): https://kdp.amazon.com/
ii.  Cool Places: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/
iii. Valley Life Magazine:  http://valleylifemagazine.co.uk/
iv. Citizens Advice Calderdale: https://calderdalecab.org.uk/
v.  Diabetes UK: https://www.diabetes.org.uk/

Part 39 – July 2015

Old mill wall panorama

At midnight as the month changed, an extra second was added. I woke in the early hours and noticed the DAB clock radio had gone off. I tried the lights but nothing doing due to a power cut. Then I heard an alarm outside but managed to ignore it and slept another four hours. The next morning I felt dazed with all the sleep.
The 1st of July proved to be the hottest July day on record. I sat in the shade when outside. My walking friend came passed on her way to go swimming. We had a brief chat and later in the week we arranged to meet for a proper catch up. Neighbours complained that even the wind was warm! When my partner got home in the evening he complained about the melting heat. We could feel that a storm was a comin’... which it did at 11 p.m., with massive bolts of lightning and a sudden downpour including hail – brief but spectacular.
 I spent much of the week working on ‘memoirs’ for June and sorting holiday photos. On Wednesday afternoon I went to aromatherapy. She made me an energising citrus oil blend. It might have worked as by Friday I felt significantly more cheerful and energetic.

Crashed toy car

In the meantime, I felt the after-effects of the massage with twinges in my neck on Thursday. Ignoring them, I set off towards the market and discovered a crashed toy car on the way – I couldn’t help wondering how it ended up stuck under a bush.

At drawing class I sketched a toy wooden horse. I thought the face looked quite nice but the rest not so good.
We stopped early to visit the ‘student showcase’. I became inspired by the watercolour display to sign up for next term.

Toy wooden horse

I had earlier mentioned to my drawing teacher that I found it a bit too hard for my brain and she got all concerned and cornered me to tell her about my issues. I gave her a brief précis but explained that art was pure escapism for me and not to worry.

Friday morning I woke early. While cleaning the bathroom, I found a mysterious dead bug on the window sill. I posted it on social media to ask friends if they knew what it was. My art friend said it was a ‘ruby tailed wasp’ which sounded right to me.

Bug - deceased

On the way back from the supermarket, I noticed a house on the street below was taking part in ‘open studios’. The mum of the friend who used to live on the street sat opposite. She invited me in to see her paintings and I politely did so.

In the afternoon I went round the charity shops in town and picked up another volunteer application form. I lost my sunhat and rushed round all the same shops again to find it but to no avail. I made an emergency purchase of a plastic trilby. I was overheated and tired when I got home. The weekend proved fun and sociable.



On Saturday we waited for the early fog to clear then visited a few ‘open studios’. We developed ‘art overload’ and retired to our old local for a couple of pints and caught up with a few people. We had a quick bite to eat in the wine bar before going to the cafe in the park for our American friends’ performance. As she waited for the sun to go down, we enjoyed the lovely evening while drinking beer and trying to fend off midges. She played a couple of songs before the main event. It involved video, spoken word and performing a few songs on guitar with vocals. After, we helped clear up before walking home.

Streetdancing kids

Sunday also started grey but brightened up we walked into town passed the river with new stone features. We stood on the old bridge and watched cute kids break dancing (a small girl with a pony tail was very good) and the youth theatre singing.

Carrying on into the square, we listened to the junior brass band (a bit out of tune, maybe due to the heat) then hung around for a ‘virtuoso violinist’ to play. He had problems with his backing track and after a while, my partner relented and fixed it but there was too much chatting and we gave up waiting for the music.

Performer with glamorous assistants

Escaping to the marina, we witnessed a very amusing acrobatic performance by ‘Fallen Diva’. She had the crowd in stitches with her antics including balancing drinks whilst contorted, spinning hula hoops and dragging guys up from the audience to be her ‘glamorous assistants’ culminating in her clambering all over them in the finale.

We saw my art pal on our travels. She had been moving house but now she was settled, we said we would meet up properly soon. Late afternoon, it started clouding over and a massive gust of wind presaged another storm. We rushed home expecting a deluge. Large rain drops started to fall but it was not as bad as feared.

 I had an odd night; I woke lots, was hot and sweaty and made a right mess of the bed with all the tossing and turning. I spent Monday drafting my blog for the start of July and doing chores. Tuesday I completed the new volunteer application form and tried to enter my ‘triptych’ into the art ‘open’. I had problems with the form and they took ages to get back to me. In the meantime, I transcribed notes from my holiday diary in preparation for some posts in ‘Cool Places’.
As I set off to drop the form off at the charity shop later, I saw my walking friend with her companion outside the pub round the corner – they had planned a walk but he got soaked coming down the hill. The manager of the charity shop rang to say they wanted verbal references so in the evening I texted my two ‘character referees’ to ask their permission. I also rang mum. She was not doing too well. Her legs felt very shaky but at least she had carers coming in twice a day.
On Wednesday I embarked on a mission to the big town in the drizzle and whizzed round the usual shops. Walking back from the train station, I saw my friend with the interesting ailments and we had a brief chat (we had already arranged to meet next week). When I got home I collapsed on the sofa. I managed to unpack the shopping and started some writing but I was too tired and had to rest. Later, I practiced guitar before feeling exhausted again. My partner arrived home, whinging about the amount of work he currently had on. We swore at the smug Tory budget (very bad for young people and laughable so-called ‘living wage’!)
Thursday was a lovely day. In between writing, I spent some time gardening. I gave my young neighbour a book we had both read which turned out to be more for her age group (but a good story) and chatted to a younger girl from down the road. She told me about her holidays and family including a brother who died before she was born. I told her I also had a brother who died.

Me as a zombie

At drawing class we had a laugh making portraits of each other. Two people drew me, one of whom made me look like a green a zombie. We ate sweets and drank cava that the teacher’s pet had brought (she travelled from Bolton just for the classes!)

We had an end-of-term dinner at the Turkish restaurant. This took ages. First we didn’t have enough space and a couple sat next to us said it was their fault for having pudding. By the time we had eaten, it was 10.30 and I had texts from my partner asking ‘are you in the pub?’ I walked home with the two women who lived near me and exchanged telephone numbers so that we could arrange to go walking some time.


That night, I really struggled to sleep despite feeling exhausted and had a torrid night.

Ruined mill

On Friday morning I felt unrested but looked forward to a day out with my walking friend. She arrived at noon and we set off to catch a bus. The next one did not go far enough so she decided to hunt round the charity shops for a hat. I waited in the square and then spotted her coming across the bridge in a straw hat that really suited her. I took her photo and posted it on her wall the next day (which she and a few others ‘liked’).

We caught the bus up the hill and walked down via small overgrown stone paths to a ruined mill. After a picnic lunch we carried on down the clough and across an arched bridge. We then climbed up to take smaller paths homeward, admiring hedgerows along the way.

Hedgerow

The climbing made me tired and a bit overheated. We stopped for more refreshments then climbed a flight of stone steps onto a paved road. The going became easier as we descended back to the main road and along the canal back into town.

She bought me a drink at the pub on the corner. We sat on the bench near the river and talked about work. She needed to earn more money as the budget changes meant she would be worse off. We discussed her options and also my current situation. She then left to meet her walking companion.

A pub mate came along so I accompanied her to our old local. We sat out and chatted to various people. It was mainly light-hearted although I did tell a good friend about my nephew’s situation. I later regretted it - TMI after a few drinks I fear. Further amusing conversations ensued to lift the mood including having a laugh about the recent Ginger Baker TV interview (what a cunt!) I stayed out until 9.30 p.m. – it was such a nice evening!

On Saturday my legs really ached and I thought I had a pulled muscle. I managed some errands but mainly stayed indoors and edited photos from the walk.

Pretty lock

Sunday looked fine with intermittent cloud and sun. My partner suggested walking to a hamlet along the canal. My leg seemed to give way and I got worried but then realised that if I put my heel first I could walk and stretch the sore leg at the same time which seemed to help.

The unexplored section of canal proved very picturesque. We took photos and stopped at a pretty lock for a small repast.

Polite notice

On the return journey we tried a different route, marked with amusing polite notices requesting 'courteous cycling'.  However, we had to turn back due to a bridge undergoing repairs and thus impassable.

Nearer home, we saw a good friend from the pub. She was waving to another old friend on the other side of the canal. He gestured for us to go over and chat but we were desperate to get back.

Sunday night I struggled to sleep and had a think. I wondered if all the stuff churning round my head was due to having an enjoyable but active and sociable weekend and/or because it was three years since the start of my woes. The previous week marked the third anniversary of the last awful flood, when it all started to go wrong for me. I had been thinking about that time a lot, not always consciously, and it felt like a hump I had to get over.

I decided I would stop writing the ‘memoirs’ blog at the end of the month. Although the story might seem unfinished, it was a good time to review my life, try to draw some conclusions and put a line under it. Having a strategy made me feel better but I still found it hard going.
Consequently, I struggled to get to sleep most nights. I tried all my breathing and relaxation techniques until I eventually dropped off, but I would wake several times during the night and feel unrested the next day. I had set the alarm on low volume for 8 a.m. weekdays. I gave up on that after a few days due to lack of sleep.
After spending most of Monday drafting ‘memoirs’ I became very tired with a headache by mid-afternoon and could hardly keep my head up. I stopped and took it easy, did yoga and relaxation and fell asleep. My head felt fuzzy when I awoke.
In the evening I reviewed the photos from the previous day. I had taken some for a panorama and opened ICE for the first time in ages. An update was available which proved a million times better than the old version.i The next few days I worked on smaller blog entries and got 16 new followers for Aspects of London on Word Press.ii
Early Wednesday morning I had a missed call from the charity shop. When I rang back later on, I arranged to start the following Tuesday but did not think I would be able to hack the standard shifts of 1.30-5.00 p.m. I had a chat with my partner about the job which he thought was hilarious of course. He asked if I got first dibs on the donations. The thought never occurred to me!
I went to the bank round the corner and opened a savings account with the traditional quid. The woman was very chatty. We talked about holidays and she made a good point about Greece – you never saw bank employees going in the Greek banks so who was filling up the cash machines? At my aromatherapy session, the therapist added frankincense to help me sleep. She said that as energy levels seemingly rose after the last treatment, she was worried I would start doing too much. I assured her that I would pace myself. Back home, I felt dozy. I took it easy and intermittently rested indoors and out in the sun.
That evening, my partner updated me on the work situation. Another round of redundancies would take place in September with him in one of ‘the pools’. He hoped the interviews would take place at the end of September as we normally went abroad at the start of that month, although we had not even discussed it at that point. I said I was sure that legally they could not stop him having holidays if it was already booked but as usual he said they didn’t give a toss about the law.

Afghan rug shop

On Thursday afternoon I met with my friend with the interesting ailments. We walked to the park and sat outside the cafe. We talked about her plans to go away, work and my new ‘job’.

Some ne'er do wells started kicking a football at the back of the cafe and a well-known local character appeared asking for change.

We left them to it to walk round town. We looked round for new shops and went in a few charity shops. She then returned to work. On my way home I spotted the new Afghan rug shop.

'Algernon'

The next morning we laughed at a news story about nursery kids having grad ceremonies – ridic but made for some funny pictures: ‘Algernon was only 5 when he got his university degree’. Like something out of Ripping Yarns!

 I wondered if the restless nights would improve if got on with my plan and reviewed my ‘life planning goals’. I then looked at the notes I made a year ago when I had started to edit ‘memoirs’ for a book. I fell deep in thought. My partner looked at me oddly. I said “I am thinking”. He said “it looked like you were thinking “I asked: “what’s odd about that? “

He had distracted me then so I looked at crap on social media and shared a story about Angela Merkel telling a Palestinian kid they ‘couldn’t all stay in Germany’.

My partner found a photo of her in younger days with a couple of Nazi-looking chaps. Oh dear!

Later, I decided I would put off the review until the end of the month, as per the original plan.

In the evening I met my art friend in the wine bar. We caught up on each others’ news. My partner arrived later, straight from work. I suggested going somewhere else as it was too hot and noisy yet it still looked nice outside but they wanted to stay.
We spent most of Saturday sorting tech stuff out. My partner changed our ISP subscription to include Netflix for an extra £2 a month plus a free telly box. The laptop which we used for backing up DVDs died and I spent ages trying to find the right software to install on my regular laptop. At dinner time, my partner said he felt dizzy. He looked a bit poorly and later he fell asleep on the sofa.
The next day we both felt apathetic and the weather was windy and changeable. I did not feel like doing anything constructive but tried a few sketches. After a mediocre night, I felt unrested and depressed again on Monday morning. It was partly my own fault for not leaving the house at all over the weekend. I kept busy with housework and on drafting ‘memoirs’.  I visited the supermarket. An amusing conversation at the till gave me material for a new ‘Tales from the co-op’.iii
In the evening we watched a programme about travelling to Mars. We laughed as they skimmed over the real issue of people going mental in space – these NASA nerds just hadn’t watched enough films! That night I couldn’t settle at all. I felt itchy and hot. I did some thinking and had a mini-revelation. Sometimes I quite liked having thoughts going through my head while I was in a semi-conscious state. But this was not good for sleeping. I did spend some time during the day thinking stuff through as a way to manage the situation, but maybe it was not always enough. The fact remained that I needed to get shuteye at night. Eventually I did sleep but woke frequently.
The next morning I tried not to get angry - I was so pissed off by the constant lack of rest and my tummy hurt due to increased anxiety and deeper depression. I considered whether this was due to starting a ‘job’ that afternoon but dismissed the idea. However, it did make me feel slightly under pressure and required curtailing my morning activities to be there by 1 o’clock. I reflected again on my strategy. Once I ended the 'memoirs’ blog I would have more time to work on other projects and look into selling smaller pieces of writing. I sometimes became disheartened by my apparent lack of progress towards making money out of writing but it was what I wanted to do so I decided to persevere. Who knew what the future held? I would run out of money eventually and my partner could lose his job but we would cross that bridge when we got to it.
My first stint at the charity shop went okay. The assistant manager showed me round the back room and explained what happened with sorting cloths and bric-a-brac. I spent some time hanging clothes on the correct hanger alongside a young Asian man who had been sent from the Jobcentre. He seemed nice at first but had some odd views. Oh my, I thought, more material for writing! This could become ‘Tales from the charity shop’ but I would need to take care not to incriminate anyone! I then shadowed the cashier and this time passed quickly. Nevertheless, I felt very fatigued after two hours and said my goodbyes, leaving with a free hat destined for the rag bag.
On the way home, I spotted my walking friend outside the pub on the corner. As the hat was too big for me, she tried it on. I thought it looked good but she said it didn’t suit her. In the meantime, her walking companion appeared. They were off on a walk and inevitably invited me but I had already said I was tired and had to get back for delivery of the telly box. The package arrived soon after I got home. I unpacked it but left setting it up until later. I went upstairs for some relaxation and thought I didn’t sleep but I must have dropped off, because when I got up, my partner caught me unawares by calling ‘hello’ from the attic. How did he get in the house without me hearing him?
We set up a new internet router for the telly box, which had the unexpected bonus of making the internet much faster. Then we started setting up the telly box. Inevitably this was a right palaver. The signal glitched and I suggested going back to normal telly but that had been messed up as well. We concluded it was due to dodgy cable ends. He managed to fix it later in the week and distracted us by flicking through seemingly endless TV channels and catch-up ‘on demand’ which proved a lot less faff than downloading onto a PC.
Thankfully my sleeping improved. I felt much less fatigued on Wednesday. I cleared space under shelves and hoovered so that we could put the new telly box in a good spot. The activity made me hot and slightly out of breath. The manager from the charity shop rang and we arranged a regular two hour slot for Tuesdays.

Plant fronds

At lunchtime, my walking friend arrived and we headed out to the flea market. The Italian cafe was packed and I suggested trying the Town Hall for lunch. We ate quesadillas and chatted about all sorts including her latest horrendous walk with her companion. She again suggested a walk which I eschewed due to the cold, damp conditions. We went round charity shops then back to the house for coffee and biccies.

I showed her the ‘bug deceased’ and she noticed some plant fronds in a pot on the window sill. The skies brightened late afternoon but as my partner and I had a day out planned for the next day, I did not want to get over tired.

York Tap - trendy micro bar

We settled on York by train and had a great day sightseeing (for the first time in a decade, we worked out).

There had been some changes since the last time including the disappearance of the model railway museum (now a trendy micro bar), additions to the NRM and a fabulous Undercroft museum beneath York Minster.

Weary and footsore on the journey home, my partner dozed. I had a mini relax and drank pop then suddenly felt more awake which was strange but good.

On Friday, I felt overwhelmed by a backlog of stuff that needed doing after being out a lot during the week. It had been nice but I had not had time for shopping, chores or even writing apart from my journal. After some reflection, I decided not to worry about it and just do what was manageable – after all, no one else was putting pressure on me. I managed one post on CP2 iv and felt much better after that.
We spent the evening eating nice food, drinking wine and watching DVDs. The next morning, my partner said he felt fuzzy due to the alcohol.

River reflections

Despite this and because of the bright start to the day and a forecast of 0% chance of rain, we headed out to the bus stop. We were just in time for the community bus. It started raining the second we alighted! Convinced it was a passing shower, we proceeded down into The Deanv and took photos when it started raining again, heavier this time.

We sheltered under a tree until it eased off. We walked back down into town, pausing by the river to eat a picnic.

The pay-off for being slightly damp and muddy was that we practically had the whole place to ourselves until we got to the more-frequented part of the crags. On the last section, we walked the quick way back. My partner bumped into a woman who knew him. She exclaimed: “how out of context is this?!” He couldn’t remember how he knew her but I said it must be from work as no one else spoke like that. My partner fancied a pint but I said town would be full of knobs. As if to prove the point, loud noises emanated from the back of the inn as we passed. He re-named it the White Knob. I then said did he fancy the Knob of Mutton, but inevitably we ended up at our old local. We sat outside chatting with friends. Later on, a punk band from the olden days turned up and other assorted folks including an ex-pole dancer who had recently moved from Cleckheaton (I spotted her in the supermarket the following Monday with a bandaged foot) and one of the skanks from the park which was amusing, especially when the landlord threatened to chuck a bucket of water over him.
Due to the entertainment, we stayed a bit longer and got a take away to eat at home. Tired, my partner fell asleep on the sofa. I could hardly keep my eyes open and went to bed early.
On Sunday, the weather was terrible, as forecast. We set up Netflix on the telly box and embarked on one of them ‘box sets’ that were all the rage. I’d had enough after three episodes though – how did people watch them back-to-back all day?
After a torrid night, Monday I slept in rather late. I had tummy ache and realised I would not get to my ENT appointment in time. I spent ages trying to log onto NHS choices to change it. When I finally felt able, I worked on drafting ‘memoirs’, a few chores and nipped out for some errands. I felt like I had done a lot despite the dodgy start. I decided the tummy ache was stress-related – I had not consciously felt nervous about going to ENT but a similar thing happened the previous week before starting my ‘job’ in the shop.
In the evening I rang mum. She complained again of not feeling well. I said I would try and go over in a couple of week’s time while other siblings were away. I tried to ascertain if we would be going away at the end of summer. My partner was still not sure what was happening at work. In the meantime, I started researching last minute deals to no avail. He said later that it was Tunisia’s’ fault and prices to Greece had gone up 12%. Now he tells me, I thought! Not that I was that bothered. We had been lucky recently to have so many holidays and I did not expect it now that I was not working. Tuesday I woke earlier and felt quite a bit better. I worked on various blogs during the week – some got ‘favourited’ and ‘retweeted’ which was cool!

Forlorn ducks

In the afternoon I set off towards town and walked over the old bridge to look at the swollen river – such a contrast to only a few days previous when it was very low. The ducks looked quite forlorn.

At the charity shop I spent two hours in the back room. The steaming made my shoulder ache. I said I needed to stop after half an hour so the manager showed me how to tag and code clothes.

 I spent the last few minutes putting the newly-tagged clothes out on the shop floor fending off a woman who was literally trying to grab them out of my hands before I got them on the rails.

I was very tired when I got home and realised just how much the clothes steaming had affected my shoulder - so stiff and painful. Wednesday’s news was awash with animal stories including the killing of Cecil (the culprit was doomed but maybe the lion didn’t die in vain) and the Shi Tzu who ate a kitchen sponge/scourer that had to be sicked out by the RSPCA. At aromatherapy I mentioned my shoulder. She said it seemed like a joint problem. Unusually, there was a lot of activity in the shop while I was there. She apologised for the disturbance.
The next morning I set off to visit the weekly market. First, I popped in a charity shop and found a book for the son of our good friend who used to live on the street below. He had recently had an appendectomy and was thus housebound. I bumped into my walking friend. She was on her way to clean her walking companion’s house, having spent half her earnings in advance on pies for lunch. After shopping, I went to see the poorly boy. I gave him the book but he was engrossed in a video so I chatted to his mum about what had happened and how rotten it was to be laid up at the start of the summer break.
When I got home, my partner was still here. We agreed it was a bit late to bother going to Leeds and so I made us lunch and he carried on working at home. The weather became very nice and sunny and I did some gardening. After pruning and weeding, I looked to see if we had any spuds. I found eight midget ones, and a half-eaten green one. We laughed and debated whether to eat them as a snack or replant them.

Despite a bad night, Friday morning I woke at 7.30 and could not sleep anymore as it was too bright. I discovered that Windows 10 had arrived and started the install on my laptop. When it had finally finished, I decided I quite liked it although I needed to get used to The Edge (new browser).

Easter treats!

In the afternoon, I started to paint the bathroom ceiling. I had to stretch over the bath which made my arms, neck and shoulders ache a lot. I could hear my aromatherapist telling me off!

Afterwards, I collapsed exhausted onto the bed. That evening, my partner texted from the train that there were loads of rabbits in the sweet factory. I replied do they put them in choc bars...

We had said if the sunny whether held up we might go to the pub but predictably, it became dull and grey later in the day so we spent the evening watching DVDs and the telly box.



Thus not a stunning end to my three years of struggle, and there is some way to go before I am fully well. However, I am pleased with the progress I have made and remain determined to stay positive and forward-thinking.
Despite setbacks and prolonged bouts of sinusitis, I am generally more active and have learnt how to pace myself better. I go walking, have holidays and occasional day trips with my partner, play the guitar, attend art classes and work in a charity shop. And best of all, I have done a ton of writing! * Fending off repeated GP attempts to ply me with anti-depressants, I weaned myself off Temazepam. I gave up trying to find appropriate psychotherapy; I realised it was a waste of time. Instead, I found a lovely aromatherapist and the sessions seem to help with my energy levels and it’s nice too!
My sleeping is still erratic although I experience less really bad nights than I used to and I have learnt to live with constant sleep deprivation! Feelings of depression vary but I will myself to keep going and never give up. My stress and anxiety levels do sometimes rise. However, I catch myself in time to prevent going totally hyper. Onwards and upwards as they say!

References:

i.                     Microsoft Image Composite Editor

ii.                   Aspects of London: https://hepdenerose3.wordpress.com/

iii.                  Tales from the Co-op: http://maryc1000.blogspot.co.uk/2015/07/tales-from-co-op-vol-3.html

iv.                 Cool Places 2: https://hepdenerose2.wordpress.com/

v.                   Cool Places: https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/