Listen to your heart

Listening to yourself is a good thing, it’s like an early warning system: if things are getting too much it will tell you. For example, it can tell you if you’re working too much. And am I? Yep! What am I doing with the warning signals? Not much, just blocking them out. Is this wise? No! Then why don’t I do anything about it? Because I’m too scared to tell people. I should ask for the days to be broken up into a chunk of 3 and 2, instead of 5; after 3 I’m goosed and I’m hardly proud of that, but it’d be better for me and my health but also better for work because I’d be more productive… I know everyone will be thinking ‘well change it then’ but I don’t want it to reflect negatively on me. Just it feels so scary and I feel I need to prove that I’m not lazy, that I can do this and more importantly, that I’m here for the ride and that I’m reliable.

Getting comfortable

Are you sitting comfortably? Then I’ll begin…
I’ve been reading Prozac Nation these last few days (interesting, but does nothing for the mood!) and I just read a chapter where she talks about how sometimes you can get into a sort of comfort zone and to aid your recovery you have to break out of it. Said like that, it’s big and scary and who’d want to do that anyway? So I’ve been considering what I call breaking out: being at work. There are no excuses, I can’t run or hide, so there is only one option: to pretend everything is fine and to just keep trying and also learning- learning to distance myself from nasty customers or bitchy colleagues; learning to cope and push through the barrier where normally I’d just break down, or just learning my own limits and that I can’t be blamed for everything that goes wrong.

I’ve got to the point where I can recognise my own bad behaviour and go someway to stop it from developing further into the negative spiral. I’m learning and that’s the point. Sometimes I want to cut down my hours or just plain blank walk out, but this is a learning curve: in this place there is none of the comfort I’d normally find or any of the excuses I could use; this isn’t student world where an excuses and a note to back you up will cut the mustard, this is the big bad world of work.

So far my mood seems to be okay, I try to keep myself distracted from thinking etc and it generally improves the closer to the end of work I get!

What, however, is worrying, is how many randoms seem to know stuff when I am pretty sure I’ve never told them anything! For example, yesterday, I was talking to a colleague about his masters, how my friend found it etc and he randomly said ’she assess you then?’ and I was pretty thrown but he continues ‘i remember you saying something about problems…’ thing is, I’m really pretty sure I haven’t said anything to him, unless my knowledge of the mental health system for a mere lay person tells the story. I don’t, obviously, as a rule, go around blurting this stuff out, the most I think I’ve said is about waiting for x to call. And he wouldn’t be one of the people I told…

Old habits die hard (?)

So, I’m home and I think the whole world and his dog knows this! My mood has dropped but I’ve been wondering why: is it because I’m home and everywhere has memories of how I felt at a certain time, or is it because it just does naturally?

If it’s the first, then obviously something needs to be done; as of yet I really don’t know. I guess something like isolation, like counsellors etc have to do so they don’t get too involved in their patients’ lives. I’m working on that, trying to work out what to do, as obviously it’s not good! Perhaps just not thinking as much?! Who knows…

If it’s the last, then I can deal with that. Admittedly something still has to be done but in my opinion it isn’t so bad, that I can deal with! It doesn’t upset me as much. So, now I need to work out which it is!

Where did I go wrong?

Warning, this post may be seen as controversial, so it’s behind a read more.

Energy Transfer

There seems to be a gap between intake and conversion of energy: The food/drink goes in… but never seems to appear as energy. I’m worn down, every move seems difficult; maybe it’s the heat, maybe it’s sleep quality, maybe it’s the thought of having to go to work, maybe I’m not being stimulated enough? Who knows. But it explains why I’m not really posting as often. I keep meaning to, I sit down then just don’t have the energy to.

I’m home, mood is okay. Okay, and only okay. Feels a bit like waves, bobbing up and down, not out to sea, I’m not that bad, but just waves, up and down, like a duck in a pond, a trip in a kayak. I’m here, I’m okay and I have half a post written. Hopefully I’ll write the rest soon, but now it’s time to go back under the duvet for another 12 hours or so. Sleep, beautiful sleep.

Thinking about what could have been and other London based ramblings

For ages I wanted to study at UCL, and to an extent I still wish I was there. Don’t get my wrong, I love my University I’m at, but, well, I really love UCL. The reason I’m not there, or didn’t even apply is because my parents wouldn’t let me: they said London was dangerous and too expensive; to an extent I agree- my friend studies there and she says it can be frustrating at times but dangerous? Well everywhere has its ups and downs. Thing is, it’s probably the only time I’d ever be able to live anywhere close to the centre of London and I really do love London. See, there’s practicality and dreams. What’s brought all this up again?  A trip to London, to the sort of areas where I’d be living and studying and I love it too much. The parks of London, the achitecture, the places… everything. I would actually love being there, it’s my kind of place: green but close to places, too. Not to mention how close everything is on foot, so public transport isn’t really required. Birmingham is different, I live in the city and it’s a trek to anywhere green. London is amazing, that’s all I can say, use to justify my answers. I’ve always dreamed of living in London, and I suspect it’s a dream I’ll have to crush; the outskirts don’t do it for me, only the posh kind of places do, the places I can’t and won’t ever be able to afford. The pursuit of happiness can hit monetary walls it seems.

I also learnt something in the British Museum (for once): the average person is prescribed 14, 000 pills in their lifetime. That’s quite a lot, but thinking about it, it seems more likely to be true: this figure includes painkillers, injections and things like the contraceptive pill etc. Maybe it is true then…

Once you stop, you just can’t start

(and the only reason I’m writing this is because I have no ideas for a fathers’ day card!)

All week I’ve wanted to write, but I’ve either not had time or when I’ve had time I’ve not felt like doing anything. But now I have, now I am home. Straight out of student land and into Real Life. This week has been quite good, though; not just what I’ve been doing but appointments wise too. My doctor has given me 2 months worth of Tally, and then for the third she would like me to see my GP up here, or if need be to ring her; this won’t be a problem however because when I’m in Brum I’ll go and see her. I don’t like my GP here…

Then, later that day, I had counselling; we talked about my needs and how I need to be more forceful in getting them across and how I should tell my mum when I want to do something different etc. I told her about summer and she has since rang to tell me that I’ll still be able to see her after summer, so yay!

Therapy on Wednesday was a bit of a wash out; we didn’t really I do anything, just sort of caught up over the last 5 weeks. I’ve asked her if I can work with her on a more long term basis, instead of hanging around and waiting for the CMHT to do whatever; she agreed and said that would be fine providing things don’t go to pot again (which was the reason I was originally referred for). I’m seeing her in August, which means that I’m seeing someone on average once a month: Psychiatrist in July, her in August and counselling rebegins in September. Sorted. All of this is a relief and such a weight off my chest, I’ve been worrying for a while and these developements mean I can at least start the summer in a good mood!

I just need to keep the balance; work and play.

Audience Participation Reqd!

Okay, readers! I need your help…

… In recommending me good coping/distraction techniques!

I already know ones like music, exercise, going for a walk, reading, writing, cooking; but what else is there that I don’t know about? Thank youuu!

Mist. Fog. Cloud. Call it what you will, but here it is. There’s something creeping over me, like clouds across the sky. A breeze gently blowing across something that isn’t a town, city or country; a breeze that’s blowing across my head, bringing the stormy clouds together, to cloud my judgement, to cloud my senses, to cloud my ability to help myself.

I’ve been lectured and lectured on how I can help myself: exercise, eating properly, little alcohol and socialising. So this I am trying to do, I really am; yet there’s still something coming in, clouding over, something unhelpful, something drowning all my sense of this, drowning my hope and my achievements. Drowning is not what I want, but the more the clouds come in, the less I want the future and hope. The realisation of this time last year vs. now is hurting, and somewhat helping: I can congratulate myself on making it this far, and be happy that I have a life, have something, have achieved things and have a hopeful future. This is here. But the realisations? How? Why? Too many thoughts like that are forcing in a storm, forcing in negativity, little by little in the hope that they aren’t there. In the hope that I’ll be too happy to notice. Well, I’m noticing. And looking. And whenever I walk past a shop window I’m examining the fatness, examining the expanse. Then going off to try and exercise it away, to eat less fat and do more exercise; well made promises if you can call it that, but the point is being missed, perhaps? The point that it’s all in my head, it isn’t that bad et al?

I want to shout ‘badness be gone’ and for it to blow over, like clouds do, but be the fluffy ones, not the storm ones. For me to weather slowly and gently, not like a hurricane or tornado and bang it’s gone. I have insight, I can see what’s happening, just I don’t feel I can stop it; for losing the fatness is a good idea, more than that, it’s brilliant! Just no-one else will let me believe this, no-one will let me diet and exercise it all away; the line will go: “but you aren’t fat, you don’t need to do this, exercise by all means, but extremes? That’s a no-no”. See, I know the lines, from times past, but I never learn from what they say, for they are wrong. They are, they are, the voices in my head cry and even I know I am right. I need to do something about this, shove the chub that’s always hung around. Shove it away, right away, make it stay away.

I’m back to where I was a year ago, weight wise. 7 st 12. I made a decision the other day to try and maintain this, not maintain at just over 7 or 7 and a half, yet that’s gone, disparu; my head is saying well to do this, you need to exercise, eat heathily but then the doubt comes in, the shadows. The ‘well, if you’re doing it anyway…’ line of thought. That line, that thought. That motion. That path. That life, that choice. That that that. That’s the only clearness in the muddle, the stand alone cloud watching the others group together, intermingle, mix.

The rest? It’s the usual. Home, Work, Uni… those sorts of things. The realisation whilst watching others pack up that this time in a week, I’ll be back at work, recreating last summer. You know what? I’m really, really scared. Scared not just of work, but the whole concept in itself: customers, co-workers, being told what to do and when, missing the weather; everything that comes with work. I’ve had time to relax, got used to this life, just for it all to step up again, starting in a weeks time. One week. One week left of my life here in this room, this room that’s known it all, the wardrobe that’s stored it all. This room knows me, and like a plant I’m going to be uprooted. Byebye life here, hello work and professionalism. Expectations, a high jump needing to be jumped at from the start, no training, no nothing. A quick recollection from knowledge I last used 6 months to a year ago. I want to do my best, they pay me so I want to, I enjoy my job, but the pre nerves? Unbearable.

Goals

Having things to look forward to is good, right? If so, then why do I feel so negative cum apathetic towards this? This will be amazing, this will be great… yet I see it as a drag; something I have to do. I’ve just booked my tickets for Sziget, 1 week seeing Snow Patrol, Lily Allen, Ting Tings, Die Toten Hosen, Bloc Party, Fatboy Slim, The White Lies, Primal Scream, Jet, Pendulum, The Prodigy, Editors, Klaxons and more, and it’s in the most amazing location: Obudai Island in Budapest. It’s going to be great, but I’m scared of the mean time, what happens in between. The month of work, the family holiday, just the way of how on earth I am going to cope with all this.

Goals are good to have, to look forward to; this one is daunting.

I realise I keep talking about the summer, and how worried I am about it, I’m sorry; hopefully by the end of this next week I’ll have a clearer idea of what isn’t going to happen and how I will be alone. I know from experience going it alone doesn’t work, so why should I put all my progress behind me? I am constantly going through ideas, thoughts, plans of how I could get hold of something, and nothing’s coming. My doctor says I can make emergency appointments with my doctors at home, ED:IT recognised a need for something but the problem of a) wrong area and b) I’m not entirely in their remit has meant that I can’t see them. The young peoples’ place in town has a rather long waiting list I would have needed to have signed up for in Janurary/February time and my counsellor from the online counselling place has left, meaning that I’d have to find someone new on there and start again. It’s an option, just one I’m not entirely sure I want to take- with it being online it’s so, so easy to just email whenever, and not work it out yourself, or to rely too heavily on them. So… where am I? Who knows!

Anyway, back to goals. I have one, I’m not feeling too positive about it in general but the festival itself I am looking forward to. I don’t really do goals, I see it as a) too stressful and b) setting myself up to fail. I did that with AS and A2 and in the end, it just made me rather ill and aiming for something I wasn’t able to ahieve at that time. Recently it has been becoming clearer how much better things are from this time last year to now, I hope it lasts, I hope it isn’t threatened and I hope those days never come back. That, I feel, is all I can really say on anything…