A Lucky Little Depressive

 

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Holding on by a Thread – Epiphany

I’m not doing well at the moment, and neither is one of my friends. It got me thinking on things and that lead to the realisation that I am so insanely lucky to have The Wild One. And yes, everyone should say that about their significant other, but hear me out.

I live a lot closer to the skin now than I ever have. I make a point about talking about my struggle with my mental and physical health as I believe that this is important to lowering the stigma surrounding such things, but at the same time…

No one really sees the depths of it. Even my nearest and dearest only really see a very curated version of what’s happening. It’s not a deliberate thing, I don’t believe in hiding away from the world, but I’ve never been truly good at explaining what’s going on in my head and I am cautious about over sharing. Significantly, I actually don’t like to complain too much. I’m usually a very positive person, despite everything, and I just don’t.

At the end of the day the only one who really sees how difficult this has been, and continues to be, is The Wild One. They’re not in my head, the don’t necessarily understand it, but they’ve always seen me as exactly who I was and I’ve never really been able to hide anything from them…

And that makes me insanely lucky. I’m not alone in this. The Wild One is here, holding my hands, and telling me that I am loved and safe when I feel anything but loveable or safe. They make can’t fix it, but they are my touchstone to reality when I don’t have the ability to make the links myself, and they never quit out on me.

That’s a gift.

I don’t know what I’m going to do about this current resurge in my mental illness, but at least I know I’m not going it alone.

 

2017 – Manifesto

2016 didn’t kill me. 2017 is probably going to try, but whatever…

I don’t have a list of resolutions this year. I’m going back to my original manifesto style stuff…

 

Surrender, release, grow.

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Art by Creature XIII

Wait, I do have new year resolutions, I lied to you:

  1. Wear more lipstick!!
  2. Read more books!!

And the song for the year is back to an old favourite.

A depressing lack of agency

So I’m back on meds. It sucks, new prescription means new side effects.

I. Am. So. Fucking. EXHAUSTED!

Like no shit, come home and go to sleep if I allow myself/am able to lie down most days since I started. Otherwise it goes well.

I talked to my psych about it briefly, and about how stressed the idea of permanently being on them made me. She was asking why I was afraid of it, and I couldn’t answer because the question didn’t seem right.

I finally figured it out the other day.

I’m not afraid of being on the drugs for life, that’s not it. What eats me is the lack of agency. I can’t do this without them. I can’t function without them. I don’t have a choice. I hate that. The idea that I have to be on them… that I might always have to be them makes me internally scream.

No choice. No agency. No other options.

It’s not about fear at all.

2016 in Review.

It’s mid-ish November, I’ve just logged out of my facebook with no idea when I plan on logging back in and removed the app from my phone.

Trump is President-elect of the United States which is mildly terrifying, and our government is sending off-shore processed refugees to there… because why not send them to a country that doesn’t want them.

Earlier this year the Australian people voted mother-fucking Pauline Hansen into parliament, and failed to boot our shitty ass government out in favor of better things. We’re still a coalition.

David Bowie, Alan Rickman, Prince, Muhammad Ali, Gene Wilder and Leonard Cohen all died… Bowie, Rickman and Prince were pretty fucking devastating. After Bowie it all just melted into a pot of ‘God, fuck, no’.

In my personal life it’s been up and down.

On the down I was retrenched in April, been broke, been sick several times, have lost very little weight, have had a world of stress on my shoulders, haven’t made much art, finances are tight, and it’s generally been a rough year.

On the up… We moved into our house with help of amazing friends. The house is gorgeous and feels like ours in a way that rentals never do. I’m happy here and we’re building our life together which is amazing. The wedding planning continues with a few minor setbacks and we’re pretty fucking excited about life at large.

I have some answers to health problems that have lessened the complaints from my stomach and digestive track which has improved my overall health in many ways. I have much lower pain issues thanks to the same change in diet plans that helped my stomach as they also alleviated a lot of the inflammation in my joints. On top of that I have a diagnosis for my foot pain that has lead to improvements in feet, ankles, knees, hips and lower back which has been awesome. So much less pain means so much better sleep. Better sleep means more stable me, and that means…

I’m coming off my meds, successfully as far as we can tell. The first 2 weeks were a nightmare, but the anxiety has settled down to generally being caused by something or due to being over tired and unable to reign in stress over inconsequential shit. So I’m now at week four.

About a month back I also started a new job which I am loving. I’ve gone from 4 half days to four full days and am stepping up to take over the roster coordinator role whilst they’re on leave. I’m scheduling, and it’s challenging enough to be interesting without being super stressful like the old job was. I love it, and am hoping to be there for a few years while I study.

Speaking of, I started the pre-requisite classes for my degree this year, and it is going super well. I did really well on my portfolio and first essay – High distinctions on both. So now I’m waiting on results from my final essay and chat board grades (participation markers because we’re online students). So that’s good. Next semester is Statistics so… panic stations.

Mum is coming down for Christmas too, which is nice. We’ll also have the cousins, in-laws, bro-in-law and wifey with kids in tow. It’s gonna be big and fun. First family Christmas we’ve done since I moved in.

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So yeah, that’s my year in redux. No idea what the next month and a half will bring, but it better be better than Trump and no more people dying or else. It’s summer. Have a photo from a few weeks back when we climbed Hanging Rock. Look, it’s me and stuff.

Ugh

I’m over everything.

I’m ok with life – home is good, work is good, study goes well. My foot is feeling better and the pains in my knees, hips and back are better too.

I’m not ok with life – if i had any idea how much coming off my antidepressants was going to suck I probably would never have tried. This sucks. Sucks balls. I am so anxious, and just when I got to the point of not anxious something new came up. I’m holding massive amounts of tension through my upper back so it hurts badly.

I’m avoiding social media for the most part. The lack of compassion and empathy people show for each other is not making me happy. Big secret that really shouldn’t be a secret to anyone – I’m a a huge softy with a lot more patience than I let on.

I care. I care that people, even complete strangers, are ok.

I just don’t have it in me to deal with the shit that’s been going down lately though. It makes me want to cry.

So I’m writing an essay on blogging and knowledge production. Drinking tea. Listening to Duran Duran because reasons.

Kind of wish I lived closer to people so I could have company easily for such things.

Whelp that explains it…

The reason the stretching and shit hasn’t been helping my foot has been discovered.

The plantar fascia (ligament that runs under the arch of your foot) is around double, if not a little more than double, the width it should be because it’s been so over worked. It also has a 6mm long and 3mm wide tear in it. I’ve got scar tissue on the ligament on the outside of the ankle, some mild inflammation at the join of my achilles tendon and heel bone and general signs that my foot is incredibly unhappy because I walk weird.

I also still have that bone spur, which would have been caused by the walking weird aggravating my plantar fascia.

plantar

And this is why I’m in pain.

Solution is some medical inner soles for my shoes to help me walk like a regular person and quitting dancing. On the plus side, I should be able to run again once I have the inner soles and have let the tearing heal.

Today I have learnt things. Go me.

Happy

I’m happy with life as it stands.

Sure, I’d like employment sometime real soon, and I’d like to be done with this food testing stuff (and the invariable days of feeling like someone has repeatedly kicked me in the guts), but over all things are good.

I have a loving, wonderful, supportive, and charming partner. 2 awesome young ladies I get to refer to as my kids whilst marvelling and how intelligent, driven and skilled they are. And incredible, amazing, talented and inspiring friends (and a super fluffy cat). I have no fear that I won’t be able to pay my bills, or rent… well mortgage as it is now. And when I need things I can afford to go buy them.

It’s weird and new for me. I wish, more than anything, that all my friends and family will find their way to their version of this. They deserve it.