Canberra Day Eighteen

Wednesday 28th September, 2016….yesterday still to come.

Well this is all out of order but I’m struggling a bit to keep things together. I took my tablets, and went to bed by 10pm last night to give myself the best chance for today. Slept okay I think, hard to remember, thought I was too drowsy and hungover when hubby was going off to work and tried to psych myself up, but he was actually getting up for his 5.30am morning bike ride!! So…back to sleep, and it’s always a struggle waking up from that second morning sleep. When my 9am alarm went off I just couldn’t feel like it was time for the day, and rolled over. Actually can’t remember now what time it was that I got up, somewhere around 10 or 10.30am. Had brekky around 11.30am, hubby reminded me to have lunch around 2 so at 2.30pm I finally got started on that.

Hubby is being my hero, yesterday and today. Not that he isn’t always; he is. But I really need a helper right now, and he’s being that. The photo of the day is his reminder to me of what I could eat for lunch. I have NO imagination for lunch, I’ve always eaten leftovers and when there aren’t any leftovers, I just stare at the pantry, in the fridge and I can’t think! So I default to drive-through which obviously isn’t ideal, but it’s so close to home, a quick drive away. You may have noticed that weight is a bit of an issue for me. Speaking mildly. It’s become a bit of a thing though, buying drive-through, and even when I don’t really want it, that’s what I do because I know what’s there, and it’s always there, and it’s no bother, and it’s just easy and doesn’t require thought or planning. Sad, you probably think. So do I, often. The rest of the time I’m just pleased that that’s lunch sorted for another day. Plus it tastes good sometimes; not all the time.

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I’m sure that hubby thinks its sad too, so I hide it. That’s become a thing, too. Not quite admitting to what I’ve eaten during the day. Burying the evidence at the bottom of the rubbish bin, or in the bin bag that’s on my side of the bed and only taking it out when I’m taking the bins out to the road, or worst comes the worst putting it in someone else’s bins. And that is not the way to have an honest relationship, which I’ve surprisingly taken a long time to figure out! It just puts up a little wall, stone by stone until you realise that there’s a barrier in the way of the two of you really connecting. Somehow it took an honest conversation last night about me hiding my food habits to start taking down some stones and building a bridge. It’s horrible to think we would have something between us! I’ve hated it lately. We have always been best friends and partners with no lies, no hiding, no buried pasts, full openness and honesty; and this is no time to change any of that!!! It’s hard enough keeping an equal relationship with mental illness on one side. It wasn’t intentional; I was doing the self-protection thing. Which does boil down more or less to selfishness, really. Where to avoid an uncomfortable discussion of my obesity, and eating food that can only contribute to more weight gain, and spending money of unhealthy food and so on, I’d hide anything to do with it: receipts, food scraps and packaging, and even pay cash so it doesn’t show on our credit card statement! It’s all become a sad rigmarole, embarrassing, and many other things; I’m sure you can fill in some of gaps.

But, we’ve opened the door, so here’s the new thing: planned lunches. So far today, so good. A nice toasted sandwich with prosciutto, cheese and tomato. Yum! I’ve got pies to cook with frozen veg, some bacon and cheese topped rolls, and a bit more confidence that I can do this! I can eat regular lunches like regular people and go back to the times before when the day manager at KFC knew me and greeted me with a smile every time I drove through, and had a joke with me! She’s a really lovely girl, is it beyond tragic to say I miss her? So much for new city, new habits!!

Well, that was a lot of spewing of internal bile that I hadn’t really planned on sharing today! But there we are.

All I can say about today is my planned ride and bird watching didn’t eventuate. Owing to the fact that it took me 20 minutes and a few sit downs to get dressed for the ride after a phone call to hubby for an inspirational speech, and after procrastinating all day! It didn’t seem like I could throw a leg over a bike! My main achievement was sitting around on the couch deleting a few MB of photos from my computer so I can fill it up again with the 800 or so photos that I took yesterday!!! Eventually I’m going to need my own server! And that was my day! So…not the greatest. Not one to remember. Quite frustrating really watching the brilliant sunshine and blue cloudless skies go by, knowing its the last fine day of the week! If only…but no, as hubby says, it wasn’t my day. Maybe tomorrow I’ll be firing on all cylinders just in time to watch an inch of rain pour down from the skies! Who knows? There doesn’t seem to be a rhyme or reason to me as to how I’m going to be each day. I am missing the routine of getting up early to take hubby to work, I think, but I doubt I’d actually have been up for it today and yesterday. I wasn’t up for it last Thursday; needed a sleep in. And he rode to work on Friday. Maybe this was coming all along and was just inevitable; after all I did surprisingly well for the first 10 days. It’s just annoying, because I can’t say one way or another. Am I just having a bad couple of days like anyone could? Or am I having a down swing with my moods that I should monitor and that might need some intervention? And on and on, my mind is just going round and round and round, on a slight downward trajectory. Things that don’t usually bother me are getting in my craw, so to speak. I’m thinking too much. A good nap has helped a bit, but in total that means that I slept from 10pm last night to 10am this morning, then for another 2 hours from 4.30 to 6.30pm. 14 hours a day isn’t really sustainable. I don’t know whether having a job would have helped or hindered today. Would having to get up have worked, or would it have been another sick day? I wouldn’t have been the best customer service! Enough! No more thinking for now. Off I go at snail’s pace to potter around about dinner. Hubby’s late, poor him. So here we go, off I go. Off I go…

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On Wednesday I got excited…

[Author’s note: written two weeks ago]

The last three weeks have been a bit tedious, and boring, and uninteresting, and flat, and sleepy, and just hard to enjoy!

On the 19th May, after 5 days in the manic sphere having a fabulous super productive and energetic time, I collapsed! Literally collapsed into bed, fell into a coma (*exaggeration*) and hardly got up for week (*not an exaggeration*)! I left the house 3 times – Thursday, Friday and Sunday. A friend’s birthday lunch, a mother’s club that I nearly cancelled on, and the gospel meeting. I showered once. It was rough!

The last week of May was slightly better, I got out of bed every day and left the house a couple more times. I did next to nothing but I ate most meals and had a couple of laughs.

The first week of June I had a couple of ordinary days, an intermediate day that I thought might crossover into mania but didn’t (thank goodness!! Can’t take another huge mood swing!), and a couple days that felt like regular good days 🙂 I’ve had a bit more energy and for the first time in three weeks I actually feel like I could hit the gym! I’m even almost excited to go; to run, and jump, and lift weights, and be part of my fitness group again. This is great!

I mean I felt like it, I didn’t actually go; but I felt like it. So that counts, right?

So Wednesday. June 4th. Not a great day; an intermediate day. I left the house because I had an appointment with my psychologist/counsellor. Probably wouldn’t have left it otherwise. Got up late, showered – sad that this is noteworthy! I started well with a good breakfast, then had another good breakfast, then a couple of mandarins and it was starting down a slippery slope of sour straps and peanut butter that luckily got interrupted cos I had to leave for my appointment!

Getting out of the house makes a HUGE difference to how much I eat. This is something to always keep in mind. Having something productive or useful or purposeful to do in the day significantly reduces how much I eat. Mainly because I’m distracted from sitting and staring at food, and actively doing something else like driving or catching public transport or using my brain!

So off I go to the psychologist. Trying to think of something to talk about, and coming up with nothing! Nothing had happened in the week since I saw her last; no improvement, no gains. My brain is not getting exercised and can’t think of anything that we can work on. Luckily, she is a psychologist and counsellor and her job is to know these things.

So we got chatting about the week that had been, and things that had happened and how everything was going. Then about strategies to improve the days, to give me something purposeful to achieve, to help fill in the gaping hours. And it kick-started something in my brain. It jogged my memory again. It gave me flash backs of useful and interesting things that I had done, and plans I had had for other things that I hadn’t done yet, and which my mind hadn’t been able to access for the last few weeks.

It is amazing and fascinating that in down times I really can’t use my brain as well as in better times. There’s actually evidence to show that the pathways to creative and imaginative parts of the brain are diminished and much harder to get to when a person is in the midst of depression. The absolute opposite is the case with mania; the pathways are much easier to access and the creative brain is firing on all cylinders.

I started to get excited. I remembered my knitting, my drawing, my bird watching, my photography. I remembered how I’d been planning to join a choir, that there were pharmacy continuing education sessions I could go to during the day, that I had meant to go back to the zoo, to do a bush walk, have a bike ride, visit some gardens. It came to mind that I could call the pharmacy counselling number and have a chat to another pharmacist about where I’m up to and how I can proceed from here, that I could visit friends, finish my half-done quilt, sort some boxes from the shed, get involved in life again.

And I guess that’s why they pay psychologists the big bucks. This is why I definitely need my psychologist sessions. Just someone professional looking at how I’m going and offering a different perspective and some guidance on how to proceed.

I went into this session unable to think of anything to talk about, to discuss, and unable to see how I could be helped.

I came out of the session inspired with a long list of things that I could do if I wanted; interests re-remembered, hobbies re-energised and feeling more optimistic about the days ahead of me. I had things I could do, I had reason to get up in the morning, I had plans for spending the days. I had hopes and ideas and inspiration.

For that, I owe great thanks to my lovely psychologist. What would I do without her?