Monday, 15 September 2014

Part 28 – August 2014



Canal reflections

I spent the first weekend of August in bed again.  The niggle in my throat and nose returned, I had nosebleeds, and got even less sleep than normal.
My partner also had a cold.  He took it easy but did go to the shop for essentials such as cake, and did most of the cooking.  The highlight of our weekend was booking a holiday to Kos for the end of the month.
Customised blue dress
I kept busy with crafting. I customised an old blue dress – it was covered in plastic sequins which had always been breaking and falling off.  I decided to totally redo it.  I took them all off and sewed random beads on.  It took me all day but I was chuffed with the result.  I should have done it years ago, but I didn’t have the crafty confidence before I guess.
I got even more depressed by the world news – Israel had bombed a total of three schools in Gaza and counting...  As the month wore on, equally depressing news emerged from Syria and Iraq.
Just as I was settling down to sleep on Sunday night, my partner set the smoke alarm off.  It was attached to the landing light so he had to leave the light on to stop it buzzing.  In a bid to get some shuteye, I performed all my relaxation techniques.  My body felt very floaty and relaxed but alas it didn’t work on my brain.  I reflected that I had now suffered for two whole years. I was not sure if I could cope anymore with the whole melange of mental illness, sleep deprivation and recurring viruses. 
On Monday morning, I was upset after a terrible night. My partner sympathised and moved the smoke alarm to the spare room so it would cease to annoy me. despite feeling terrible, I had to get up to go to a counselling appointment.  I had cancelled the last one due to illness and as we were going away at the end of August, I resolved to attend three weeks in a row to get it over with. 
It was predictably tedious, as were the subsequent sessions.  After the preliminaries of the meaningless questionnaires and telling her how I felt, we started the EMDR therapy.  For most of it, I sat there feeling daft holding these two buzzy things with her getting me to relive one tiny part of my ordeal over and over again and asking me stupid questions ‘on a scale of 1 to 10...’  I wondered what on earth she expected me to say.  I did try really hard but my mind kept wandering and I kept saying to myself ‘this is a waste of time’. 
Eventually I couldn’t bear it any longer and signaled her to stop.  I had a pain in my throat and my eyes were watering so I reached for a tissue.  She interpreted this as me crying.  I explained that I had viral symptoms and was not upset by reliving the experience; I had done it enough times myself.  I just found it really tiresome.   We talked about it for a while and after revisiting the other limited options available and me still being adamant I did not want CBT, I agreed to give it another go next time .  I had already promised myself that I would go through with it and decided it would be a shame not to give it a chance. 
On the way home I went to the chemist and got some nose spray.  I remembered that a while back when I had a similar recurring illness it had helped.  However, after trying it for a few days I realised it was doing no good – in fact, my nose became more snotty! 
The next day I slept in quite late. I didn’t feel as viral but still really tired.   I stayed in bed working on my blog.  It took me until the Thursday to insert the photos and publish it but I was happy with the result.
I thought about how it had been two years since I walked out of work, and one year since I became officially ‘work free’.  I should have been enjoying my life, being able to do what I wanted when I wanted.  Instead, I was still ill and apparently suffering severe fatigue due to two years of insomnia.  I recognised that the recurring viruses were connected with a lack of sleep compromising my immune system and creating a vicious cycle with no end in sight.  Despite all my efforts, being productive, trying to keep positive and forward-looking, it was wearing me down leaving me at a loss as to what else I could do to help myself get better and get on with my life.
Pocket watch necklace
Charm bracelet
By Wednesday I felt slightly better and managed short periods out of bed.  My partner took a day off work.  He still had a cold and the events of the previous two weeks with his Mum dying had taken their toll.  I did not feel well enough to go to my painting class.  Instead, I made some jewellery out of recycled parts including a pocket watch necklace and a matching charm bracelet.  
I saw a photo of my friend with the interesting ailments on social media with a broken arm.  
I messaged her and she was scared she wouldn’t be able to go on holiday the following week.  I arranged to meet up with her before she went.
It looked sunny and warm outside so I got up, put on a dress and sat outside.  In fact, it was a bit cloudy and breezy and my knees got cold.   I went back inside but stayed out of bed.  I rang my Mum and did a few jobs round the house.  I was on the stairs when I had a funny turn – I felt dizzy down my right side and almost fell sideways off the step!  When my partner got home I mentioned it to him.  We wondered if it was because I had been a bit over-enthusiastic about feeling better. 
At about 10 o’clock that night, we noticed fireworks being launched from somewhere down near the canal.  I watched from the window. They were much better than the normal crap from the corner shop.  Not quite as good as a display you would pay for, but impressive all the same.  They had obviously been put together by someone who knew what they were doing and it lasted a good quarter of an hour.  I put a request out on social media, to have one every night.
I took Temazepam and was asleep soon after 12.  I still felt very weary and wobbly the next day but I had to go shopping.  I discussed our changing shopping habits with my partner: we seemed to be able to survive without doing a big shop every week (and it worked out cheaper).  In general, people appeared to have eschewed the big out-of-town retail experience and become more diverse in their shopping habits.  We mused that we had followed this trend without being conscious of it.
Some men had been working on a house on the street below.  That morning, there was such a terrible racket that I put earplugs in.  We looked out and saw a man attacking an old water tank, alternately using an angle grinder and kicking it.  My partner said ‘what is he doing?’  I surmised he was cutting it into smaller pieces so he could get it in his car to dispose of it.  He said that sounded like a reasonable assumption but then said ‘why is he using an angle grinder?’  ‘Because that’s what he’s got’ I replied.  I know I often complained about being disturbed by men and their power tool noises, but this just proved that men will use them willy nilly – even when they are totally the wrong ones – simply for the sake of it.  Later in the day it went very quiet but of course just as I contemplated having a little sleep in the afternoon the dreaded grinding started up again!
Action cat crosses the canal
On Saturday we both felt quite fragile.  It was a lovely day with a hurricane expected later in the weekend so I convinced my partner to come out for a walk in the early evening.  We walked up the canal for about a mile, taking loads of photos including the stunning reflections in the water and an amusing ‘action cat’.  On the way back we stopped at a canal side pub for dinner and a couple of pints. 
Beach horse lino print
The next day we slept in very late.  The hurricane had arrived and we agreed to have a Sunday ‘crafternoon’ making lino prints.  My partner did some of his Chinese writing and I did one of a beach horse copied off a bathroom rug we bought in Zante last year.  I was very pleased with the result.   As my art teacher would say, I ‘caught the spirit of the subject’ with a sense of movement and fun.
On Monday afternoon my friend with the interesting ailments visited and told me about her accident wherein she broke her arm and her upcoming holiday to Crete.  I gave her some tips on getting round on buses and lent her a sarong to stop her whingeing about all the clothes she couldn’t wear due to her cast.  We also talked about the therapy lark.  Although she was unfamiliar with EMDR, she knew where I was coming from.  She had been through all sorts of other counselling and therapy and was currently being ‘persuaded’ to go back to art therapy. 
That night I couldn’t settle at all.  I tried my relaxation techniques but nothing worked and I tossed and turned for ages.  I churned over the therapy appointment.  I had decided I would go as I would feel very uneasy if I didn’t.  However, I decided I didn’t want to continue with the EMDR.
When I got to the appointment, I started straight in telling her what I had been thinking.  Namely that the EMDR concentrating on one speck of time was unhelpful; that there was a backdrop to what happened to me at work and in my personal life at the same time.  She called it ‘spaghetti’ which was not a bad analogy.  She tried to persuade me that EMDR was not just about dealing with isolated incidents.  Then proceeded to pick out other events in isolation!  I took issue with the use of the word ‘distressed’ to describe what I felt when I thought about the shit.  I said I actually felt anger and frustration.  She said after what I had experienced it was no wonder.  She convinced me that I needed more time to feel better.  This was actually quite helpful as I had been fed up with still not being well after two years.  Perhaps I just needed to accept it was going to take longer.
She went back to the old NHS alternatives of CBT, counselling and ‘guided self-help’.  As she expected, I eschewed these options – again!  In the end, I agreed to purchase a book on ‘mindfulness’ and report back to her.  We only had one session left and I suggested waiting a few weeks to give me chance to have a go at it first.  However, she said she could not book appointments too far ahead and as I was on holiday at the end of August, we ended up booking for the following week.  This would of course prove to pointless.
In the afternoon, I did some meditation and caught up on some sleep and felt loads better.  I tried a new technique to help me become more serene and accept that I needed to be patient with myself until I healed fully.  This seemed to work at first with improved sleep quality. I had another really good night with five and a half hours straight. Unfortunately, the following night was terrible.  I kept telling myself I needed to be still and calm as it had worked the day before but to no avail.  I detected a pattern that whenever I tried a new relaxation technique, it only seemed to work once or twice.
Mid-week I went to the library and was amused by kids collecting stickers for the ‘reading challenge’.  The Librarian said to me ‘you don’t get stickers sorry’.  I replied ‘that’s alright.  I don’t need motivation to read’. (As should have been evident by the pile of books I had returned, most of which were about writing).  
At painting class I started a painting out of my head,  inspired by a photo I saw of street furniture silhouetted against the light so the shapes looked like animal.  Of course I didn’t quite get the effect I wanted.  The tutor advised adding shadows which I attempted with mixed results.  I had a bit of a laugh to myself at some of the pretentions of others in the group. One woman talked about her voices: ‘they’re not coming to me’ and another one was doing a self-portrait.  I thought (but stopped myself saying out loud): ‘ooh! You’ve done a selfie!’
My partner was on a photo shoot with our American friend .  We met for Coffee in town.  She said they’d had a great days’ work at her new ‘studio’ which was basically a massive warehouse space.  They had done various projects including her daughter sitting at a Victorian school desk which made for very powerful images.
I spent some time during the latter part of the week editing my early blog for a book.  I finished proofing the first third which felt like an achievement.  I also prepared for our upcoming holiday to Kos and worked on a second horse design for a lino print.
Old photo nicked from the pub
On Friday night my partner managed to get home early for once.  We went out with our walking friend for food and beer.  She seemed concerned that my partner was very tired.  I thought: what’s new?  Aren’t we all?  Isn’t that normal nowadays?  He managed to amaze her with his instant art skills, using his phone and bits of shit. We examined an old photo on the wall which I decided to nick and post up on social media.   Unfortunately the beer did not have a soporific effect and I had a terrible night, waking all the time and lying awake in the early hours. 
On Saturday morning I discussed what our friend had said.  I had been somewhat irked that she noticed he was tired but that I was permanently tired yet got no sympathy.  My partner said he realised what a big effort I made when out and about.  Maybe to such an extent that other people thought I was fine.  I always felt exhausted afterwards.  But I preferred to do stuff and suffer later rather than not do it.  I mused that as lack of sleep and tiredness had become normal, maybe I should learn to love it!
River ducks
The bad weather swayed us to stay indoors. My partner cut my hair into a new style and dyed it for me.  Sunday was no better - literally raining one minute and sunny the next.   But I needed some air.  We walked into town and took photos of ducks on the river. We shopped for needless items such as sweets and DVDs.



The following week brought more ups than downs for a change.  On the Monday I had my final counselling session.  As predicted, it was a waste of time. She repeated loads of patronising advice and comments about me doing all the right things and said again that I just needed time.  On the feedback form I reiterated what I had said before - that until a whole range of services was offered rather than just counselling and CBT, it will never be truly tailored to the individual and help people get better.  It was also ridiculous that you had to wait until you were severely mentally ill to get referred to a proper psychiatrist and then there was a two year waiting list! 
When my partner arrived home he said it was cold outside – I had noticed it had gone rainy again but actual cold in August!  We decided that autumn had indeed arrived early.  The changeable weather and drop in temperature  with even the odd touch of overnight frost, had already started turning some leaves brown.
On the upside, I got back into a morning exercise routine and felt the benefits after a few days.  I made a shopping trip to the big town and congratulated myself on leaving the house shortly after 11 a.m. – a record apart from when I had to go out for an appointment.  I had timed it to catch a particular bus but it sailed past me, even though I ran and waved at the driver!  I walked quickly to the main stop to see if he would wait there a few minutes as they sometimes did but saw it pull away in the distance... so despite my best efforts, I did not reach my destination much earlier than normal. 
In the evening my Mum rang. My sister would be in Turkey during our trip to Kos.  I texted her to see if one of us could do a boat trip and meet up in Kos Town or Bodrum – that would be fun! 
Landscape with balsam
At my last painting session, the tutor said we would go out to sketch seeing at was a fine day.   We walked uphill to come out above the playing fields.  I had never been there before and took quite a few photos including landscapes with balsam which most people hate but I quite like it.  I tried to do a sketch with some dark pastels I had borrowed from the studio.  It was predictably rubbish.  The tutor came along and told me to put more light in it to get a sense of perspective but with no white in the pack it was hard.  We started to get cold and bitten by midges so we retreated.  I chatted to fellow students on the way back to the studio about the class.  I said I liked the tutor, but he didn’t really do teaching.  I needed more help with technique rather than the workshop-type format.  When we got back it wasn’t worth starting on anything else so I found the paintings I’d already done and told him I was going.  I said I would sketch on holiday and he said ‘yes, as much as possible’. 
In the evening I met my art pal at the pub at the corner.   She got a place on an access course but work wouldn’t let her go part time and extended her contract to December.  She planned to move back to Wales though and had applied for jobs over that way.  She suggested going for a drink for my birthday when we got back from Kos.
Later in the week I started writing a short story.  It was slow and made my brain hurt a bit but I did almost 500 words. 
Amusing slogan
On Saturday we met our friend from down the road for coffee and cake.  She showed us tons of photos from her Canadian trip (lots of sunsets).  Afterwards, we wandered round town.  We Looked at the labour club’s 90th birthday street party – very sad with a white man singing ‘No diggedy’ which was just plain wrong!  At the newsagents, we laughed at a billboard for the local rag, which I edited to make an amusing slogan ‘Young drinkers shock’.  A feature in the weekend magazine about ‘sleep hygiene made a lot of sense to me: if it was simply a matter of not drinking caffeine and turning off computers, how come I slept without follow those rules two years ago?
Huge rocks
The next day was lovely and sunny.  We walked up the valley and took loads of photos, including some ace huge rocks.  We also came across a succession of manky-looking fungi and a crucifix apparently made of books – WTF!  At the top of the valley, I almost stood on a butterfly sitting on the path.  I posted this up on social media the next day and got a few ‘likes’.  

Tree with fungi
We had a dodgy pint at a country pub before getting the bus back into town.  I needed another pint to make up for the nasty one.  Most hostelries looked full of bank holiday knobbiness so we retired to the pub with the beer garden. 
Crucifix made of books
Bank Holiday Monday brought nasty weather with it of course. My partner spent the day ironing and packing while I worked on my blog.  I went to the supermarket  and saw a friend from art class.  We had intended to go to the pictures together over summer but had failed.  We said we would definitely meet up soon though.   
Butterfly on path

On the way back I bumped into one of our old drinking mates on her way to work.  She told me that she found it hard to motivate herself at present, even to go to the pub.  She seemed jealous of us going away and said she couldn’t afford a holiday as she had to fork out for new boiler recently. 
I replied: ‘when you don’t feel like going to the pub, don’t go.  Save your money and then you might have enough for a holiday’.  She said ‘you’ve got a point there, £30 is nothing... but I am in the house on my own’.  

I said she was welcome to come round for a cuppa and chat whenever she liked.  I actually thought she might be depressed due to the drinking but I didn’t consider the street a good place to talk about it. 
That night I took Temazepam.  It would be my last chance for two and a half weeks and I wanted to improve the odds of getting a half-decent kip.  We left very early on 27th August to catch a plane for a fortnight in Kos!

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