She made me think about how much still I self-censor here. Yes, I have coped but I’ve not coped too, and I wanted to say a few things about that.
First off though, about coping – I have the love and support of my Boo, family and friends and I also have my daily dose of Prozac. I’ve been quite flippant about what I’ve called my “chemical assistance” here, but it really is that. Sometimes my dose takes the edge off things but sometimes it doesn’t. I don’t want to go in to all my “stuff” now, all the emotional challenges and issues – because I’ve at least referred to most of it here before but mainly because the detail simply isn’t relevant. I think that everyone has their limit when it comes to how well they can continue to be with the challenges life throws at them and my particular limit has been reached is all.
You know when you’ve worked hard all year and then you get to take a few days off and then you get ill? Well, that’s kind of how I’d describe what’s happening with me right now. I’ve been climbing that mountain and now that the peak is in sight my mind & body is saying “enough”. It’s a fair cop I suppose. Despite the efforts of everyone around me I didn’t really take it easy after having my gall bladder out. Apart from never being able to sit still anyway, I’d just moved in to my new flat and had my benefits to sort out to say nothing of the bankruptcy. Oops wasn’t going to do any details! But those are just a few of the more recent challenges!
My body saying “enough”: Generally, I get very tired. On Sunday, Boo and I traveled here to Spain. She drove the short distance to Stansted airport and I slept for most of the flight which took just over 2 hours. We were met at Alicante and driven the hour long journey to the flat in Denia. Again, I slept most of the way. When we arrived at around 4pm I was absolutely exhausted and white as a sheet. After having something to eat, I slept for the rest of the evening and then went to bed and slept right through to Monday morning.
My mind saying “enough”: Apart from being generally quite tearful and anxious there have been some very specific bad times. Like recently lying paralyzed with an overwhelming sense of dread and hopelessness in the bath for what seemed like an eternity, unable to move.
So I really am going to take it easy. A few final pieces of the jigsaw are falling in to place (like benefits actually being paid and the bankruptcy being finalized) and then I’ll be able to lie down on my sofa and sleep and rest and recover.
My goodness! What my Boo has had to deal with over the last 2 years! There’s been one issue after another with me and I don’t want to keep burdening her or our relationship with my shit. We’ve talked about it of course and despite her protests I haven’t lost my senses completely and realize when enough is enough. And it really is. Like I said to her recently, I don’t need or want a carer any more than she needs or wants a patient. Being so needy is very unattractive and not sexy at all.
But, it is what it is. If I could change how I’m feeling of course I would. Apart from anything else, and this may seem strange, I am very happy with my life and relationships now and very, very in love with Boo. My depression is a result of an accumulation of stress / difficult life events, it’s an illness from which I’ll recover just like if I had a broken leg. There are no quick fixes, there’s not one single thing that anyone could put their finger on and resolve to make it go away. Just like the broken leg, you have to deal with the very practical stuff around mending the leg, not ponder what caused it to be broken in the first place.
I’m seeing my excellent GP regularly, remembering to count my many blessings and now, finally, I’m accepting what I need to do to get better and that is to really rest.
I wanted to write this so that what is here is honest and fairly represents me and my life – otherwise what’s the point?
I don’t have any quips to end on but promise to post some jollier entries from my next 2 weeks in Spain.