Part 10 - February 2013

Snowy ruins painting

February started off sunny if cold and we spent some time during the first weekend walking and drinking and eating nice food.  It soon turned nasty though, with gales and then snow -  more slushy than picturesque this time around. 
Amusing news items during the month brought some light relief to everyday events.  These included the resignation of Chris Hulne MP  ( I saw the  news three times on the day the story broke and I was sure that he said that he must resign from his 'sleaze seat'. Well, at least he weren’t lying about that), the horsemeat scandal (we were especially tickled to learn that a local knackers yard was implicated) and we found a funny blog:  http://scarfolk.blogspot.co.uk/  Hilarious!

My final Counselling session at the beginning of the month left my issues unresolved and a report was sent to my doctor to that effect. This came as no surprise of course as I just needed the shit to be sorted out!

My sleeping was still very hit and miss and when I took the antihistamines that caused drowsiness at night, they made me feel a bit strange. After taking them, I was often conscious of two different levels of sleepiness. The first level was the normal one which didn’t necessarily lead to actual sleep.  The second level felt like a part of my brain was winding down and I could sense myself gradually sinking into sleep.  Weird stuff!  Even when I took these pills, I would still wake up several times during the night but I would go back to sleep quicker due to their soporific qualities. They also tended to make me still feel very woozy in the mornings and it could be very late when I finally came round properly.

One morning, I must have looked more fed up than normal because my partner asked me what was up that was ‘different to usual’.  I wanted to explain that it wasn’t anything new, just the same old shit, but I didn’t feel up to having that conversation early in the morning.  He then went back to looking at the news on his app. (which at that time was all about the horsemeat scandal), and then he started doing some work, so when I did try to talk to him he wasn’t listening.  I was quite annoyed by this and banned work of any description from the bedroom from that day forward (and wondered why I hadn’t done it months ago). I told him that there was nothing ‘different’ wrong with me and that it was about the same stuff but sometimes it got me down more or I found it harder to keep my mind off it and I asked him if he realised how often I felt down and depressed.  He said he did so I left it at that.

We both did quite a lot of art that month, sometimes together which was quite nice. I bought some charcoals and pastels off Amazon and experimented with drawing the wooden animals that are scattered about our living room (not as mad as it sounds) and we did some designs for lino cuts and mosaics. The art tutor liked my sketches and made some suggestions so I had a go at cutting out a lino print of a wooden giraffe which looked quite haughty.  When I was asked why it was frowning, I said ‘it’s expressionism innit?’ Unfortunately though, we were also forced to do another boring old life drawing and I thought my efforts were terrible as usual.  However, the art tutor said I was a ‘born expressionist’. I told him not to take the Michael and then others in the class said they thought my drawing was really good; comparisons to Henry Moore and Francis Bacon were made which I scoffed at.  I mean, there is a slight discernible improvement but let’s not get carried away!  Anyway, I still don’t like this life drawing lark and I detest the works of Moore and Bacon almost as much. 

Outside of class, I did a sketch for a collage I was planning (second in a series of three) and I also got into making cards for valentines and birthdays.

On the second Saturday in February, we attended a Mosaic workshop.  I found the cutting of tiles very hard, even though we were shown the proper technique.  I started doing one of a seahorse I’d drawn and my partner did a flower he’d drawn on his ipad.  We didn’t finish them so the tutor let us take some tiles away to use later (much later; in fact-  they’re still lying around in a box to this day).

It was a grey drizzly day so it felt good to be doing something fun and different.  We went for  pizza on the way home and were planning on staying out for a drink but we both felt like we had a cold coming on (I blamed the stupid sneezy woman who was sat next to me in the workshop). That night I just couldn’t settle.  When I lay down to sleep I had a sneezing fit, then I couldn’t breathe so I had to get up and dig out the olbas oil.  After that I slept a bit better but the next day we both felt very achy and sorry for ourselves. I decided to stay in bed as I really did feel rubbish and continued to do so for most of the week, although I managed to do a couple of things with the aid of technology.  As well as some research for our upcoming trip to Portugal, I corresponded with a friend currently living in Canada who was planning to move back to England and was asking about jobs up here. Ha ha!

By the Wednesday I started to feel a bit better and managed to muster enough energy to go see to Mark Thomas for which we had tickets. A friend who was due to come was unable to make it and she spent a lot of time trying to find someone else to take her place (even though I said not to worry as it was only a tenner and I didn’t want her to stress out about it).  She did find someone but then they dropped out as well.  That day, there had been endemic snow panic in Leeds (second time during the winter) and everyone made a mad dash to get home at around 3 o’clock, which of course meant that the buses and trains stopped running (as reported on Look North Later).  Absolutely crazy, but at least it meant my partner wasn’t late home for the gig. 

I must say I enjoyed the first half which was a stand up routine based on the people’s manifesto more than the main event, but it was an engaging performance mainly because Mark Thomas is actually a very god performer.  Afterwards, I asked him to sign some books I’d bought in the interval.  We had a chat about the Tunnel Club in Rotherhithe which I remember from our days living in South East London as being a right rough old dive – a baptism of fire for a young performer in the ‘80’s!  He told us a funny story about Keith Allen doing a routine called ‘Lenny Henry’s filofax’ (the intimation being that Mr. Henry nicked everyone else’s jokes)

The next day was Valentine’s Day and I gave my partner a card I’d made for him. Of course I got the typical I’ve-not-got-you-anything-Valentines-is-a-load-of-rubbish response.  Having said which, he did like my card and put it on display (well, it was pretty arty seeing as I can do art now!).  In the evening, he drew me a tulip on his ipad and e-mailed it to me so I could use it as wallpaper on my laptop which was sweet.

At the weekend, the weather started to feel a bit springlike after the soggy snow earlier in the week. On the Sunday it was actually quite a warm, sunny and beautiful day and we went for a walk up the hill via the Pennine Way.  I forgot how steep some of the route was and got a coughing fit and didn’t feel great as I was still shaking off the end of my cold.  We ended up on an awful boggy track and the effort required exhausted me.  After a short rest to get my breath back, we returned by an easier route and went to a pub for Sunday dinner before going home.  I felt really achy and tired when we got back. 

True to type, two letters had arrived at the end of the previous week and again I had been trying very hard not to think about them all weekend. I opened and read them on the Monday.  One was the anticipated report following my grievance appeal hearing from the Board – the usual load of waffle but with a bit more legalise this time, and the other was from my boss requesting my consent to acquire a medical report which I gladly gave. I was going to see the GP the next day anyway so planned to talk to them about it.  We chatted a bit and I wondered again whether I should just resign as they were still not admitting any responsibly for me being ill. Then I thought about it some more and decided that it was worth hanging out for redundancy on ill health grounds. I  e-mailed the Union Rep to get his views and as usual, had to wait ages for him to get back to me. 

That night, I had a particularly bad time with hardly any sleep at all.  The next day I wrote some notes before going to the doctors.  As usual, she was supportive and confirmed that she would say the right things in the requested report.  I finally spoke to the Union Rep later in the week. He agreed with my plan of action in terms of waiting until my employer received the medical report and then angle for redundancy on the grounds of my ill-health. As usual, he had nothing new to offer so again I was left thinking ‘do I have to do all the work around here?’  I again raised the issue of involvement from the Union’s legal  team but this seemed to fall on deaf ears. So it was a matter of waiting and seeing ... again.

At dance class I was doing really well and seemed to be keeping up with the veterans a lot better. Later in the month, we started learning the tango.  I have always wanted to be able to do the tango and really enjoyed it although I was slightly dismayed at the choice of music – a tune from Phantom of the Opera rather than something from Evita which the dance teacher hadn’t even heard of - for Shame!!!!

On the last Friday of February we went out for posh surf n turf at a local pub then went to meet a friend for her birthday drink.  There were a few other people, most of whom I didn’t know but we got on great and had quite a good laugh chatting about comedians, politics, religion, the state of the world etc. We got a bit drunk and stayed out until the bitter end. 

Towards the end of the month, the weather took a wintry turn again with horrible tiny snow falling out of a leaden sky and it got very cold.  My partner got another cold but as usual, refused to stay off work or even have a day in bed.

While waiting for any news, I kept busy sorting my partner’s birthday presents and getting ready for our holiday. This entailed going to Halifax for some essentials and I saw someone I used to work with in Boots. She was surprised at first when I told her that I was off with stress, but she didn’t seem that shocked that I had been bullied by my boss.  I also saw another friend on the bus coming home (the one who now has depression) who was doing some volunteering at the time. She was due to come round for dinner on Saturday so this was quite fortuitous as I took the opportunity to update her on my situation so that I wouldn’t have to talk about it at the weekend.  Later that afternoon, I went upstairs for a rest as I often did but didn’t sleep. I kept feeling as though I was falling asleep but then jolting awake with a sensation that something awful was going to happen – annoying and a bit scary! 

That night, I couldn’t sleep at all and was tossing and turning for ages.  Eventually I got up again and sat turning things over in my mind.  I came to the conclusion that I was worried about there being more delay and that going on holiday would delay it further.  I told myself that this angst was illogical and pointless and talked myself into sticking to a course of action, (i.e., waiting for the medical report to come and saying nothing until my employer got back to me when they had received it.  After all, they had caused enough delays so it would make a change for it to be the other way round).

The next day I felt really terrible and groggy and sad, but made an effort to get up and do stuff to see if it lifted my spirits. I started to do some housework but it felt too hard and I also got very hot and bothered and I blurted out to my partner that I couldn’t cope anymore and started crying.  All my frustration and fears came out, and amongst other things I told him that it felt like there was a cloud in my head (I used to think people made this shit up but it is truly how I felt, or like my head was full of fog).  I know he thought that my decision not to resign was making it worse but I said that I really needed to follow this thing through because how I was being treated was wrong, and my employer not taking any responsibility was morally wrong.  I told him that I really needed him to support me and not say I was doomed all the time.

I also said that if my employer continued to refuse to take responsibility and make amends that I would get revenge another way – I just could not let them get away with this. I felt a bit better after my tirade and realised that I had been trying really hard to keep things in and to not talk about the shit but that it was not good for me to bottle it all up. I had to talk about it. 

As it turned out, I was walking through town in the sunshine the next day when the GP surgery rang to say the medical report was ready for me to look at so I went straight round to read it. I thought the report was okay but didn’t quite say enough about my depression and after some deliberation, the secretary suggested I take it away and re-write the last paragraph and return it the next morning so that’s what I did. I made a big effort to get up early the next day to return the edited report which I had changed so that it gave a true reflection of how work was definitely responsible for me being ill. I hoped that if my GP was in that day, I would be able to go back later on to check the new version and they could get it sent off before I went on holiday.  

The secretary thought it was very good (and apparently later, the doctor said it was much better than she could do, to which I responded that writing was my thing, although at the moment it takes me a lot longer to do than it used to due to the holes in my brain).

However, the secretary said the finished report wouldn’t be ready until the following week when I would be away.  Again, I felt guilty but the surgery reinforced my earlier thoughts that I shouldn’t because usually the delays were at my employers’ end so if they got annoyed with having to wait for the GP report, so what?  It would be a taste of their own medicine so to speak.  I kept telling myself this but I really had to try hard to forget about it all and concentrate on having a nice sociable weekend followed by a trip to Portugal...

Snowdrops – the first sign of spring!