Don’t panic!

On Sunday I had a bad day.

I woke up feeling bad, kept feeling bad and managed to go to bed feeling only marginally less bad. Thankfully I woke up better on Monday and I’m trying to forget about it and put it behind me. But it was an unwanted reminder that sometime, somewhere, somehow there is going to be a relapse. It’s just a fact. But I really don’t want it!!

So what is a bad day?

I just felt bad!

I know; not terribly articulate. But that’s about all I had on the day.

To my husband’s frustration. It’s hard to be the one on the sideline asking what’s wrong and getting “I don’t know”, over and over. Like, surely you know something about what’s wrong; you must know a bit about what’s happening. But I didn’t; I still don’t. And of course there’s nothing to show for it that would give either of us a hint.

It’s also hard to be the one trying to figure out an answer to the question “what’s wrong?”. I just couldn’t explain it. Between being the one on the sidelines, and the one in the thick of it, there aren’t any winners!

In hindsight I can break it down, a bit. It’s like having a bad taste in your mouth, except its in your mind and its a lot harder to shake than by chewing gum or brushing your teeth, mainly cos you can’t get at it as easily. The bad taste makes you feel icky, yucky, unsettled, nervous, uncomfortable, sad, upset, despairing, weird, a bit spacey like you’re on the outside looking in, a bit in pain and a lot confused.

And why? Why did I have a bad day? I don’t know why. Probably there is no reason why. Or maybe there is and I’m just totally missing it. I don’t know why it happened, or why it happened today, and I probably never will. But it had gone for now, so let’s be happy about that and just leave it be. Obsessing about it won’t do any do, I’ve proved that amply by now.

So what to do about it?

Sleep.

Go back into oblivion where your brain shuts down enough of your thought processes to give you some peace. I woke up at about 9am in a sorry state, went back to bed just after 10am til 11.45pm, and went out for some lunch with hubby and family, more to avoid explaining why I wasn’t up for it as compared with actually feeling like going. Then back to bed just after 1pm til 4pm, a few hours up, then back to bed as soon as possible. It’s not living, but it’s surviving and on a day like this, that is all that counts; surviving.

So I survived, and the next day was better. Who knows how it all works. Just another story in the life of. Thanks for reading.

Canberra Day Nineteen

Thursday 29th November, 2016

Well I think I’m perking up now, but its been another struggle street type day.

Actually woke up and got up at a bit more civilised hour today, 8.30am. Didn’t do much with it though. Decided to get out of the house at lunchtime since the rain had cleared up but halfway to Floriade I found out it was closed for the day for maintenance. Visiting the shops just wasn’t that appealing, hubby was already halfway into his lunch break so I did another of my stupid feeling my way home things which took an age!!

Got a bit more productive in the afternoon getting my last little bit of continuing professional education done before tomorrow’s deadline. Made dinner. Took the washing off the rack; didn’t fold it, but I took it off. Those are my achievements for the day. It’s not much, but better than the last couple of days anyway. Then of course I had to fight with hubby which turned into me crying my eyes out…bit of an over-reaction! Think I was overdue for a cry somehow…anyway I think we sorted it out, and went to bed in a good place.

No photo today, didn’t take a single one. So in the spirit of my new honesty, I took a few photos of how I felt yesterday. Usually my photos show me smiling, holding in my fat bits, putting my best face forward. Instead, this was me after fighting to get dressed to go for a ride in the late afternoon, which I then just couldn’t do; it was a rough day. This is how my face had fallen all day, this was me with my double chin and stomach poking out and just looking my down self. It’s not pretty. I don’t like it. But it’s the truth.

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Although in the event, it doesn’t really show how I was feeling like I thought. A reminder that when you’re feeling down, you can’t wait for someone to notice; you have to be willing to talk to someone. Your face doesn’t show as much as its supposed to.