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| Dandelion with raindrops |
May started well for me with
fun and socialising but unfortunately, I became debilitated during the
latter half and struggled against deeper depression.
Friday 1st May brought
further news for my partner about planned cuts at the college. He reckoned all the community provision and
learning support would go. I said there
was no point worrying until he knew more.
He agreed but felt angry, on behalf of colleagues. As the month wore on, a few planned
redundancies were announced but the sums didn’t add up leaving my partner
bemused. He concluded that they were
waiting for ‘The Butcher’ to arrive.
That evening, I met my art friend
in the Italian cafe. It was packed with the very loud middle-class
self-entitled brigade. As we ate, we
watched ‘Venice cam’ and caught up on each others’ news.
We then walked to the art
studio. We waited outside for ten minutes
as speeches were underway and we couldn’t get in the door. Once inside, we looked around and said hello
to various people including our good friend who used to live down the road and
her art teacher pal. My friend was still
evangelising about voting Labour. She
insisted that we look at selfies of her and Eddie Izzard (who visited our town
the previous week). I picked up a list
of the art and we remarked that it would be good to have notes of the mediums
used, but then realised we could work it out ourselves. Our old art tutor said the same thing. I also told him I was enjoying the drawing
course and said “I’m still rubbish but less rubbish than I was in
January”.
When I got home, I Felt worn out
after all that hob-nobbing and being witty and polite! I got a bottle of wine and flobbed in front
of the telly.
After a rubbish night with
frequent waking, loud power tools woke me up at 8.15 on Saturday morning. I put earplugs in and turned over, to no
avail. The stupid royal baby dominated
the TV news (a ickle princess– hurrah!).
My friend with the interesting ailments
had a friend drive her over to collect the rest of the bricks. I asked her the names of the lads who kept hanging
around, although I didn’t see them again. (maybe they got the message that she
knew where they lived).
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| Emerging bluebells |
Sunday morning began with dreary
weather which persisted for some time. Just
as we set off on a walk, the sky seemed to brighten. We walked
up to the woods above town. We could see
people waiting around and realised the Tour de Yorkshire was due. We decided to chill and wait for it: a dull
half hour of police motorbikes showing off and a few support vehicles. Eventually, the cyclists appeared but it was a
palimpsest of the previous year’s Tour de France spectacle.
We carried on walking to the top
of the woods, looking at trees and emerging
bluebells. We then followed the line of the valley and
came across a small world of cliffs, streams and a waterfall. What a surprise! As we descended back to town, we got rained
on.
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| Cliffs with waterfall |
We went to a May Day street party
to see a local ska band. We waited
around for half an hour during which we were rained on again. In the meantime, we consumed beer and Tibetan
dumplings. I chatted to one of my pub
mates. She said the UKIP poster in our
old local was not serious; he had another one up saying ‘whoever you vote for,
a Muppet gets in’).
In the meantime, my partner had
disappeared up front to take photos. I
caught up with him, covered in straw, following a straw fight with a small child.
As we watched the band, a couple
of ne’er do wells appeared. We joked
that they were ‘living like the captain’ and christened one of them Captain
Skank. I spotted some other mates and
went over for a natter. After the band,
we chatted to some other friends. We had
a right laugh. My partner took some
excellent portrait photos including of Captain Skank and a pub guy dancing with
a woman holding a bottle down her pants. At about 6 p.m., it looked like the
situation might degenerate and we went home. Later, I found out that the police had been
called thus confirming we had made the right call.
That night, we both struggled to
sleep. Consequently, on Bank Holiday Monday we were too tired to go out. It was
a fine day after some heavy rain overnight.
I took the opportunity to plant up hanging baskets.
The next night was much better
and I got up feeling more refreshed on the Tuesday. I spent the week mainly on
housework and writing. I posted ‘Memoirs’
for April and a few articles on 'Cool Places' (see links below).
I followed a link to a video
about the relationship between depression, lack of sleep and fatigue. I got drawn into starting an online
course. Some of what they said made a
lot of sense to me. I rang mum later and
told her about it. She finally admitted
she had depression and added “but we know why, don’t we?” I told her that wasn’t the point and also mentioned
it was a symptom of Parkinson’s which she didn’t know (I found it odd that no
doctors had mentioned it). I hit the familiar
inevitable resistance although she did say she would try the meditation course
I lent her ages ago. At least that was a
step in the right direction.
I had an odd night with lumps of
deep sleep, but frequent waking, mulling over stuff from the ‘depression’
course. The next day I finished session 1 of the course including a ‘relaxation
review’. This made me feel better at first but then woozy. I considered paying for the rest of the
course, and later in the week, I started drafting notes to help me decide. Then I
realised I could just look at the headlines of future sessions - they covered
nothing that I hadn’t tried and/or put into practice already. Conclusion:
Usual NLP/CBT psycho-babble.
That night as I got ready for bed
a fight broke out on the street below. My
partner looked out and made as if to go outside but I told him not to asking: “What
are you going to do?” It seemed to calm
down so I settled down to sleep, when it started up again. I put earplugs in and did some relaxation until
I dropped off, then it kicked off for a third time! Thankfully,
it didn’t last too long and I managed to get to sleep and had an average night.
On Election day morning, the
stats from the General Election exit polls predicted our Tory MP would retain
his majority. I decided not to look anymore
as I didn’t want unnecessary stress although I had already accepted it as inevitable
given other recent polls.
When my friend with the
interesting ailments arrived In the afternoon, I harangued her to vote. I told her about the May Day street party and
showed her my partner’s portraits. She agreed
they were great. She said the party had
left a mess for her to clean up at the school, including straw everywhere.
At drawing class we used drawing
ink to sketch a still life. I found it a
nice medium to work with although as usual, my efforts were not great.
When I got home we watched the
start of the election results which proved depressing even at that early stage. I went to bed. We decided that Silly Thursday had reached a
peak; election night was like Christmas for commentators and pundits.
When I settled down to sleep, my
mind mulled over all sorts of things including the drawing class. It had made my brain very tired and
over-stimulated at the same time. I
wondered if it was too much for me but I decided to stick it out until the end
of term. As it turned out, I did not
attend another session that half term.
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| Election screenshot 1 |
The next morning, I stuck the
telly on and shouted ‘fuck!’ at
confirmation of the worst case scenario becoming reality. We watched as the election results brought
horror upon horror. The Tories actually
had a majority!
Other highlights included
the SNP sweeping the board in Scotland, Ed Balls and Charles Kennedy on the
dole, and us keeping our smug Tory MP (as predicted). The best news was Farage not winning a seat
but we had to wait until 10.30 a.m. for the count.
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| Election screenshot2 |
I tried to cheer myself up
looking at the lovely morning – sunshine, blue skies, green trees. As I had accepted the inevitable a few days
ago, I wasn’t as stressed out as some people.
I joined in the conversations on social media. But
by Friday night I was ready to slit
my wrists as every news bulletin went on about the election results – smug Tory
bastards!
On Saturday, my partner developed
a cold. We spent the day on DIY. I painted wooden folding chairs I had found outside
a while back. Sunday, my partner felt a
bit better whilst I started to feel ill.
I applied second coat of paint to the chairs, despite the fumes not being
good for my respiratory system.
I popped
outside for fresh air and noticed the garden had become wild after all the
rain.
I went to bed early and took
aspirin in a bid to stave off a virus. I
had a rubbish night with hot sweats and frequent waking. At 8.30 on Monday morning I was awoken by
hammering outside. When I stood up, I
felt terrible. I spent the next few days mainly in bed ailing
with familiar symptoms and hoped it wasn’t the dreaded sinusitis again. I also suffered from chronic lack of sleep.
First thing Wednesday I felt a
bit better but an hour after waking, I became tired again and dozed until the
postie knocked on the door, meaning I had to go down and receive a parcel. I seemed to improve towards the end of the
week. I progressed to sitting on the bed
rather than in it, and managed a couple of spells sitting in the living room.
Friday, I had to go shopping to
re-stock the cupboards. At the till,
they forgot to ask for my member’s card, but I didn’t realise until I was
answering some questions for a market researcher. I went back to the till. A team
leader told me that I would have to have all my shopping scanned in, get a
refund, then scan it all again. I lost
my rag and shouted “I haven’t time for all that effing palaver and you can stick
that in your stupid questionnaire!”
As home deliveries were not
available I struggled home with the shopping trolley and the wheel broke
again. I was exhausted. I spent some time outdoors despite feeling
terrible. I cleaned the garden (and found what looked like dog
poo for chrissake) and tried moving planters around but it was too much for me
so I gave up.
Being out in the sun and fresh
air made me feel a lot better mentally.
I did some thinking and again told myself that although I was still in
this seemingly endless cycle, the gaps between physical illnesses appeared to
be increasing (although this did not last).
I then suddenly felt very tired again and it had become cloudy too. I retreated indoors.
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| Ickle Stevie Gerrard |
Saturday, I became ultra-depressed. I actually cried about Gerrard leaving Liverpool (I don’t think I was actually crying at that; I had kept wanting to cry anyway and the old shots of ickle Stevie at age 17acted as a trigger).
Despite the fine weather, we both felt too ropey to go out. I cheered myself up listening to the Prodigy’s new album (good but not a radical departure) and we kept busy with housework and baking.
By Sunday we had to get out of
the house. We went into town for a spot
of shopping and onto a new micro bar. A
few of our mates were sitting outside so we joined them for a pint. We also met a very nice Scottish guy. We accompanied them to our old local and I
got better acquainted with a young neighbour.
More friends arrived including one who was celebrating her birthday.
I compared notes with one good
friend on battles with demons and brains not working as they should. It meant a lot that she trusted me to share
her story. We also had a laugh
re-telling the story of a friend’s sister coming to grief after drinking ouzo
at our house (This happened years ago but I realised the importance of these
stories for communities).
Predictably tired, I went up to
bed early that night but tossed and turned for hours. Monday morning I felt rubbish again and could
barely speak, which I put down to the previous day’s drinking rather than
anything else. I spent the morning organising
a planned June trip to south east England.
I booked a B& that sounded nice but risky as it didn’t open until 1st
June! When my partner got home he said it
had been hard work post-Sunday drinking.
Over the next couple of days, I thought my virus had
scarpered but I still struggled with sleep. Mid-week, I raided my much diminished
supplies of Temazepam which I hadn’t taken since the previous summer. It resulted in a slightly better night and helped
me to carry on with daily life.
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| Art flower, by my partner |
My partner made me an art of a flower.
I was chuffed but pointed out it had taken three months since he had promised
one on Valentine’s Day. That’s the
artistic process for you!
Besides writing and housework, I
managed a trip to the big town for essentials.
On the way to the station, I saw a guy I knew through work. He told me about a new resource centre in the
Mill opposite. He kind of offered me a
job, but I declined: bid writing was the
last thing I wanted to do! I did say I might
pop in and look round some time.
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| Banana Beach next to Poundowrld |
I visited the usual round of
shops, bought cheap art materials and a garden spade to replace
the one that got stolen. I had a bakery
lunch while sat on a bench, enjoying the sun and light breeze. Opposite, I spotted the beautiful banana beach, right next to Poundworld - class! Predictably knackered when I got back, I took
it easy the rest of the day.
While watching George Gently that
evening, my partner spotted one of his crow stencils being used as a logo for a
fictional bank. As I said on social
media, I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or outraged. I suggested he sue for royalties but he just
thought it was funny.
That night I got a sore
throat. It appeared to have eased in the
morning, but I had lots of snot and phlegm and a small nosebleed. Otherwise, I felt okay. I dosed up with nasal spray and aspirin in a
bid to stave off yet another bout of sinusitis. Later, while out at the market, I developed a headache
and raised temperature. Determined to go to drawing class that evening,
I rested for most of the afternoon. But as
I was getting ready I became very wobbly and dizzy and realised there was no
way I could.
I retired to bed, where I
remained for most of the rest of the month. When the physical symptoms eased every
couple of days I was severely debilitated with fatigue and then the sinus
problems would re-emerge yet again.
I revisited one of my little
theories. As I had a virus the previous
week which I thought had gone, it could be that I hadn’t quite shaken it off and
I overdid it, especially going to the big town.
Hence why I was struck down with sinusitis. I was so tired and weak due to not having any
reserves to fight these things and all I could do was rest. I tried not to get
too depressed, especially when the weather looked nice outside – at least I had
the green hills, trees and sheep to look at through the window.
While I wiled away the hours
watching telly and playing games, my partner spent most of the weekend setting
up his raspberry pi and after tidying up the attic, decided he had two spare PCs.
On Sunday evening, he was
carrying the tea tray downstairs when I heard an almighty crash and a
scream. I went down to find him on the
floor, with milk and broken pots all over.
His ankle had given way and he had thrown the tray forward so he
wouldn’t fall onto it. I collected up the
bits while he limped down for the mop.
Then he started to clean up in the kitchen but I told him to leave
it. It got a bit fraught but I was more
frustrated with my own pathetic state and not being able to help properly than
him becoming an invalid too.
On Spring Bank Holiday Monday we
both struggled: my partner had hardly slept due to the pain and I tried getting
up and dressed but was too weak. I felt
sorry for him having looked after me over the weekend and then being
crippled! Despite still being
bed-ridden, I tried to keep my spirits up during the day and entered a ‘top
travel tips’ competition.
I fell asleep quite quickly that
night, thanks to a new breathing techniquei
although I still woke several times. The next day I felt slightly better albeit very
fatigued. I spent most of the day in bed
again and worked on ‘memoirs’ but I also managed to get up for short spells and
carry out a few chores. Mid-week my
sinus symptoms returned. I took it easy
in the morning with a small amount of writing. I needed to go out in the afternoon for an
aromatherapy appointment which I decided to keep in the hope it would do me
some good.
I realised I was very smelly so
had a bath out of respect for my fellow humans.
I arrived early for my appointment.
Whilst waiting in reception, the owner of the shop appeared while my
back was turned. I heard a ‘hi Mary’ and
just stopped myself jumpingii.
We made pleasantries when a young woman entered. She asked about job vacancies. The owner said no; she had just taken on a part-time
receptionist, but that the girl “would have been great. I mean, you look great”. I bit my lip: I was tempted to say something
about equal opps, which hiring on looks is not, not to mention the fact that
this sort of comment reinforced stereotypes of girls being judged on their
looks rather than their skills.
After my massage I felt sleepy
and she told me to drink sweet tea when I got home. The following day, I convinced myself the
aromatherapy had indeed helped. I
proceeded to perform chores. Whilst
putting recycling out, I heard ‘Hi Mary’ and again stopped myself from jumping as
a neighbour approached behind meii.
In the afternoon I felt very fatigued again and thought I might have
overdone it.
That evening, my partner helped me
cook sausage and mash. He said it was ‘a
proper tea’. I replied that we always
had nutritious dinners and we can’t eat sausages all the time. He agreed but maintained that it was good to
have ‘a nice old fashioned tea’ sometimes.
At night-time, I got to sleep
quite late but had a decent kip before being woken by the bin men. I couldn’t sleep more after that despite the
early hour. After breakfast I realised I
actually felt worse with a recurrence of sinusitis symptoms. It made me very miserable. Although I kept telling myself that all I could
do was rest and be patient, it was so tedious!
Saturday morning over a cuppa, my
partner suddenly exclaimed: “Shit. Was I
meant to go to Hull today?” “ I don’t know.”
I replied. “You mentioned going last
Saturday but said you would try and change it to during the week, then I forgot
about it”. He said he had better go and
asked if I was annoyed. “What’s the point? “ I answered and said we had better
get on with it.
While in the bath, I realised I
was really angry. He had been planning
to go and help his sister clear out their parent’s flat for four months and the
date kept being put back. He asked did I
want to accompany him which I thought ludicrous in view of my ailments. Anyway, it was not about being left alone all
day when I was ill; it was the lack of notice.
He said it was pointless me being angry about not knowing about it as he
didn’t either.
“That’s the point”, I told him. “I can’t deal with things being sprung on
me. You might be happy to not plan your
life but when it impacts on others, you should take account of that”. He went quiet which irked me even more. I asked him to say something and he said he
found it hard to respond to shouting and didn’t know what to say. I became upset (with my own feeble state as
much as anything). After a cry and some
more chatting, I felt a bit better and suggested he try changing it to another
day and if not, to just go and get it over with. I got
dressed even though I didn’t feel like it.
I went to make toast and left him to ring his sister.
He rearranged the trip for the
next day. This meant that he could help
with shopping and some cleaning. I spent
most of the day out of bed except for a two-hour spell in the afternoon, even
though I was still poorly. I reasoned that
once up, I might as well give it a go.
Sunday morning despite feeling
worse again, I got up to make breakfast so he could get off in time. He texted me from the horrible train– plagued
by people with hangovers, kicking kids and crap weekend dads.
I spent some time during the day thinking. I reminded myself yet again that I was doing
my best, given my mental and physical limitations. I needed to stay positive and continue looking
forward despite the frustratations.
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| Wild garden, after rain |
https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/2015/05/07/changing-landscapes-in-crimsworth-dean/
https://hepdenerose.wordpress.com/2015/05/08/up-to-old-town/
Notes
i Breathing technique for sleep –
breathe in for 4 minutes through the nose, hold for 7 minutes, then breathe out
through the mouth for 8 minutes. It works
but I found that I could only do a few breaths as the counting was irregular
making it a bit tricky to get right.
ii Twice in two days someone had
taken me unawares by saying ‘hi, before I saw them. What I found interesting about this is that
both times, I almost jumped but within a split second I subconsciously realised
and stopped myself. I considered that progress on the stress/anxiety front.
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