Off days

We all have off days. Some to more of an extent than others. I have had the jolly fun of being off from the eve of my birthday then ok again then off again during my birthday and so forth for the days since. My shoulder is causing me pain on and off which I know is bound to be demoralising. I just feel crud and miserable but I am good at putting on a happy face when I have to. Reminds me of the small box of photos that happened to be to hand and came out on my birthday and was examined by young family members. I am pleased they were interested enough in some of these old pictures, and laughed loudly at some of the pictures of themselves when they were much younger, or at younger parents with big fluffy hair. My niece noted some pictures of me as a very young child, "you always look happy Auntie". And so I did. I've always known to put on a happy face. And sometimes I am happy. I gotta finish on an upbeat thought!

Feeling sorry for myself

It is past the middle of the night and I have balanced frozen peas and then hot cherry stones on my left shoulder; eaten Weetabix and four ibuprofen; drank a cup of tea; emailed a friend; and checked out a few blogs. Thank goodness I slept for a few hours in the evening.

At 8am I will phone the GP and try to get an emergency appointment for stronger anti-inflammatory and possibly even pain relief for my ongoing shoulder injury. This is what the osteopath had suggested for me last week if conditions worsened in the next seven to 10 days. All seemed to be settling down at first until the searing pain I had on Saturday night and then yesterday at work. Something happened, almost quite comical and a bit of a chain reaction that caused my body to jerk which felt like my shoulder was ripped. I went into immediate spasms and burst into tears in front of a client. So not a nice thing to do at all during the middle of their treatment. What I really wanted to do was to lay on the floor and have a tantrum but that is not my style so I pulled myself together whilst trying to reassure my client who knew nothing about my shoulder injury, and then completed her treatment. Thank goodness another client had re-arranged her appointment at the last minute so I knew I did not have the hours of back to back clients originally scheduled.

I have induction at college this Thursday evening for a course staring in January. For this I need to be fit and have full use of my limbs. I have a client today from midday through to about 7pm; and clients back to back Wednesday from 9am to 1pm...

It is not even as if it is a lot of pain except at those moments of crisis, and assorted other times. I chide myself for making a fuss. I would like a lot more sympathy and consideration but I am not going to get it and a part of me is too strong to accept it anyway. It is funny that I say there is not even that much pain when I lay in bed trying to find a comfortable position for my arm and shoulder and nothing seems to work. Laying on the sofa is surprisingly comfortable and effective. My shoulder hunches in reaction to pain or as a means to somehow protect from further painful episodes and of course, that doesn't help much.

I want to dance freely, and jump and skip and reach out and be happy. At this moment I am finding it very difficult to be in the present and to think these things are here and now. They feel all so mythical and unattainable. Like I said, I'm feeling sorry for myself.

Dressed up

Dressed to party and about to leave shortly. It is our Christmas work do where it will be Chinese food and Karaoke. We did the same last year and it was quite jolly so I expect it will be similar this time.

A swipe of clear varnish on nails makes all the difference. I can't bear putting on coloured varnish if it then gets marked so I generally don't bother with anything so it is a bit of an exception to do this. I've taken the time to put make-up on and fix my hair down long and straight which I rarely do so no-one really knows how long my hair is.

The small amount of weight I have put on to my slim frame makes a huge difference and I do not fit into any of my party dresses. Thank goodness for my inspiration at the local Christmas market where I bought a locally hand made knitted scarf that looks like tinsel with silver grey and white edged in black with a tiny silver sequin shot through. I've pinned this to the neck line of a black longer length top which has bands of silver sequins at the bottom, just below my bottom, and at the ends of the three quarter length sleeves. I am wearing a pair of black leggings and these shoes which are surprisingly comfortable as long as my beloved takes me to the destination by car and picks me up!

Yesterday was tough and I just kept on going. I am not quite there but hey, best foot forward and a smile on the face. The show must go on. 

Deep, down and dirty

Not a lot to say really. Last night at work was really great with lovely feedback from clients about treatments that are life changing. Of course I came home feeling wonderful, bathed in the warm glow of that shared glory. Way less than 24 hours later I come home from a very hard day at work. Clients were happy and satisfied but I know. I'm working with equipment that keeps hiccoughing and not doing what it should. Deadlines for treatments are being pushed and I am wanting to do the best job I can. One of the young apprentices could be a whole lot more supportive, after all the value of the treatments I am doing are paying the rent, wages and much more. My arms are working billy-oh for five hours strait, with an existing shoulder injury in one I am feeling the strain and my other arm and shoulder are starting to ache. I have no time to make a drink and no-one brings me any. Probably a good thing as I wouldn't have had time to go to the loo. When I've finished my boss who is now in about to see her own clients asks me if I'm OK in the way people these days in the UK glibly ask "How are you" without having time nor the inclination to hear a real answer so I just mutter OK. Another part of me feels that if I say anything it looks like I can not handle pressure. Is it pressure? Is it tiredness? Is it pain? Is it depression and I am just barely coping. Life is not always good at the OK corral.

Tumbled

Yesterday morning I could feel it coming on. Persistently like a dark cloud rolling quietly in rather sneakily and not in any dramatic way. Everything I did seem to add to its weight until the point I arrived at work and proceeded to burst into tears. Tears and work just do not mix. Not professionally and not practically. The tears help I suppose by letting the pressure off a little and then I manage to pull myself together because I have to pull myself together for others. My first client soon arrived and that was it, get on with it and do a good job. Which I did and is what I do. Put on a happy face. They do not know and have no idea.

Warrior Diet

These past couple of months I have been experimenting with fasting. Prior to that I have been experimenting with eating healthier and for over a couple of years I have experimented with a no-added-sugar and no-alcohol diet. The net result is that I have felt good on the whole. I still have my blips such as the other day with one depression after another I couldn't stop eating and wangled a whole cheesecake down my gullet in a 12-hour period plus sundry other items. 

Yesterday I started the Warrior diet. Rather unwisely without any preparation but I felt it was right for me just to jump right on in as that sometimes suits me. In any case, there was one very major hurdle for me to overcome and that was my attitude to breakfast: I love it and feel it is the key to everything yet the Warrior diet consists of no eating or consumption of any calories over a 19 hour period and then to have a five hour window every day, about the same sort of time and preferably in the evening when all food consumption takes place and you eat all that you would normally eat in a day. Therefore, no breakfast if one wants to interpret it that way. I weighed up eating my lovely breakfast on my own to family meals with my beloved and there is no competition.

What is more, when I started yesterday, I had a busy and late day at work knowing that I would have an active work day involving physical work. My previous experiments in fasting days actually meant one had a breakfast and then fasted until the next day apart from a little miso soup. So going without breakfast was new on me and what a revelation. I not only survived, it was actually alright. I managed all my physical work, I didn't feel tired and apart from some prattish thing I was doing much later on (after I had broken my fast at 5.15pm with a breakfast I took in with me to work) was actually quite sharp enough.

After the "breakfast" I was extremely full on the smaller meal in my presumably smaller tum which was a bit worrying by the time I was home and Mr Doris was cooking us a lovely meal and I didn't feel quite so hungry. Nevertheless I ate as it is still very important to have all your calorie intake each day but only within the eating window. And then there is the next key point for me - never to eat late in the evening and here I am doing just that. Throughout the day I drank black tea, green tea or water to keep hydration up.

Day two today and I do not have a late day at work so I can modify my food window to say, from 2pm to 7pm, or 3pm to 8pm. I have quite a bit of running around to do so that will be interesting to see how I manage. This is all experimental. In recent times I have read some ideas about the body going into repair mode during fasting rather than growth mode and that fasting only has to be the equivalent of a good night sleep plus a bit more. There are all sorts of fasting such as IF Intermittent Fasting and Alternate Day Fasting and so forth which I am researching too.

Since I am going to be fifty years old soon, I have been doing all sorts to try and get myself into better shape for the future. Not just physically, but also health wise and mentally. I have no desire to become one of the walking dead, just fitter and healthier. It will be good to see what role this may play.

Sunday Surprise

One of those days that just does not pan out as expected. I was going to have a girly day out with one friend who has been having a lot to deal with lately but then she was really not up to it despite a reasonable amount of persuasion. I was then left with a whole day unassigned and oh, how nature abhors a vacuum! Another friend is having one brick wall after another and I discovered that one might think that certain things shouldn't happen in life but I am constantly shocked and surprised. It seems that dying with a terminal illness is not enough to persuade BT they should connect a telephone line as a priority. Other options are sadly less available due to the nature of erratic mobile reception.

Later on Mr Doris knew to try and snap me out of my feeling down and persuaded me to go out to a nearby Arboretum that we have not been to before. It was a lovely drive but cold and wet in the park so we soon hightailed out to the pub where I had yummy mulled wine. Most festive.

After we came back I did some more research and then felt exhausted and napped on the sofa to be woken later by daughter coming for an unexpected visit. After a nice chat I ended up doing her some overdue treatments and then we ate some leftovers for dinner. Daughter was teasing her younger brother that she fancied a sundae from McDs but he wasn't interested in taking the small walk to get any. Then I threw a swerve ball and offered them sundaes each for pudding and put my coat and boots on and went and bought them. I never do small things like that so they were really appreciative. Silly appreciative. That was really nice, and fun.

The middle ground

Our lovely neighbour has her Christmas wreath up on her door, which is about four foot from our apartment door. I saw it for the first time yesterday, which is quite late for her, and it made me smile. So I feel it is my duty to get ours out too so that she can have that reciprocal smile when she comes out her door too.

This is extremely late for me - not even an advent calender is to be seen in our place. Very unusual. Admittedly, I have a lot on my mind that "I do not know how I feel" this year.

Driving to work yesterday, I realised that phrase "I do not know how I feel" had become part of my vocabulary this year. I have always been one of extremes, not quite black and white extremes I'd like to think, more of, you either did or you didn't and in that, it was either with excitement or not at all. My mother either made a mega obscene fuss of you or you were abandoned to the outer reaches of her universe. I have long wondered if my enthusiasm for whatever was a mirror of her ways, so yesterday I realised I had this new aspect of just saying "I do not know how I feel". More of a middle ground and that was absolutely fine.

That phrase was borne for me out of some particularly difficult experiences with someone in my life this year. Actually with two completely different people. I wonder if they are as confused and baffled by it all as I am. Rather than me drawing any decision or judgement on them or the situation I have decided to leave it at the "I do not know how I feel" stage. On the basis that least said soonest mended, not that I have any energy or desire to fix anything. Another new one for me - not feeling the need to mend.

Meanwhile the sale of our house* has fallen through in the last few days. Once again. Over five years we have had the house on and off the market and now at a greatly reduced price. Another buyer has stepped back up, at an even lower price. Releasing that house before Christmas would wipe our slate clean. Using the phrase "I do not know how I feel" has helped me through this because at times when I let go of that phrase then the enormity of all the negatives weigh heavy on me in a hugely depressing way. At least the middle ground allows me to skate through and still have some happy times. Feeling depressed does not.

*This is the house that we once loved and lavished. We downsized and could not sell due to the economy, then we left and rented it out. The first family screwed us over and the second were lovely but decided to leave and the house has now been empty for nearly six months leaving us paying a mortgage plus rent on where we live now plus all the sundry costs. As we "own" a house we do not live in, we are not entitled to any help. Then there are all the accruing interest charges on the debts from doing up the house. "I do not know how I feel" helps!

Ironing the edges of ones life

Hats off to a very lovely Saturday in the company of an old friend and just chilling out. A very special day topped off by reclining on a sofa with friend in her conservatory, chatting about life and times, looking out into the wide vista with dusk gathering across the gardens, river and fields, as the rain pelted down. A moment in time to be treasured.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Bit by bit over the last months I have been clearing and sorting aspects of my life. Simplifying. Cutting back either actively or by default. Some of it has not been done positively and has happened as those things fell off the edge of my ability to cope. There was never anything personal. It just was what it was and as long as others did not take offence then there was nothing that could not be mended in time. Am I sad that some things are beyond repair? I'm not sure and I don't know. Is it worth me being angry and upset about someone's action as a direct result of my non-availability? Rhetorical belly button gazing.

Bit by bit I've been taking positive actions to help me live in the here and now. To appreciate and love and enjoy right now. In the middle of the night I have discovered the call centre for my mobile is not 24 hours so I have to wait before I can telephone to ask them to switch off my voice mail. What is the point of having a voice mail service when it distresses me? When I do not manage the calls and (wrongly) feel under pressure all the time by its very presence. Bizarre when one realises that the mobile is part of my business. Better to switch it off now, and then to re-integrate it back when and if I am ready for it. The callers can always text and at least they do not have to pay for a phone call to an answerphone that is not answered.

Dealing with the email has been a long drawn out process. Unsubscribing from a million and one lists I seem to be on has been cathartic. Lists and Groups I truly believe are great are just overwhelming. There was a time a few weeks back when I thought I was seeing a bit of space and then all the Christmas related emails have ramped up even from lists I thought I had already carefully unsubscribed. Many email lists are just rubbish and unsubscribing would just ensure being added to many more lists so those have been left alone.There may come a time when I think starting over with yet another new email address might be the only way.

Sudden Suicide

Assuming it was suicide..... assuming it was depression ....


When a (now) high profile person commits suicide it will make society look up and consider depression and suicide and I'm hoping that out of the death of Gary Speed (football manager for Wales) that there is greater discussion and acknowledgement of mental health issues.

I think when you have someone who can be seen talking live on TV less than 24 hours before he was found dead, it brings it home:



If depression was at the heart of it I can relate to the way he can look so relatively normal and participate and yet have such huge turmoil going on inside. I can not say anything about this particular case as I do not know the man or his circumstances but I do hope that something really helpful and positive for the world can come from his sudden death.

Mental health should be as central to our lives and as easy to talk about as our physical health and whether we have a cold or sniffle. In reality, to talk about feeling down or out of sorts, or to feel like one is failing or feeling like one is a fraud or undeserving can lead to jeopardising your position. Or to back slapping encouragement that really you are OK and to pull yourself together when in fact you feel like a fragile glass ornament perched precariously on the edge of a steep precipice with wild winds whipping up all round and no shelter or comfort. Terrified, desperate and alone.

Ultimately, a person who commits suicide takes that action and it is their responsibility, but society as a whole needs to take a collective responsibility and to look at what it is that we do, say or expect that binds all of us.

Searing pain

Since the early hours of Tuesday morning she is now on the happy meds and stronger morphine. She has stopped fighting my dad. Mostly sleeps. And keeps saying "thank you" in a servile way, which was always a contradiction within her that would come out at times. Tomorrow, a bed may become available at the local hospice.

Monday night was possibly the worst with her screams of pain, and saying she wanted to throw herself on the floor and die. I looked at the pillows and wondered if there was anything I could do. At times she would hold my sister's and my hand, gripping tightly through the spasms of pain. She said this was worse than childbirth. And then she could not bear to be touched - anywhere. What do you say? It is going to get better? Soothing nothingness words are hard to find especially when my mother does not put up with any patronising. The nurses finally arrived with their hypodermics and arranged for a syringe driver to be fitted up at midnight so that it could automatically dispense pain relief and happy meds.

According to a district nurse, the difference in her between Monday afternoon and Tuesday morning makes her wonder if the cancer has gone to the brain. Last night we began bringing the grandchildren to see her and maybe say their goodbyes. My 21 year old daughter arrived late last night to visit today and my 17 year old son later today.

My life had been put on hold with clients being postponed or cancelled and no new enquiries being taken. Yesterday evening I was expecting a call from someone about after life arrangements and instead picked up the phone on a potential new client. I was obviously distressed but tried to not let her feel bad on intruding. Poor thing. I bet she will remember that call!

Yesterday was emotionally the worst for me. And I continue to feel raw. Is there ever a straightforward death with emotions that express sadness for the person passing? I do not think I am crying for her and I think that is sad. So sad. Meanwhile, we would not let a four legged animal endure that level of pain.

Yesterday my father gave me the name of an obscure book he wanted to obtain for my mother. Something about science and healing and the scriptures. I look at this slip of paper in disbelief trying to work out the purpose of this book for someone who was at the last days of life and was out of it. I delicately probed. He told me it was for her to carry on her journey. Stupidly I couldn't quite get my head around any journey my mother might be taking and wondered to myself if he had gone mad or something. Thinking of hot holidays in Tenerife. He matter of factly told me it was for her to hold in the coffin. I think I missed a breath and had to hold myself from doubling up from the emotion of it all. Service resumed within seconds. That possibly began my very bad day yesterday. I sobbed and sobbed all the way home later that day. But I am not crying for my mother and do not know why I am crying.

As for the book, I texted the details to my darling Mr Doris and within minutes he had located a good copy, purchased it and it is in the first class post. My dad was really delighted.

Crunching snow underfoot

It is official. Christmas is here and the sort of run up to Christmas that I dream of ... walking down a real British High Street in and out of little shops with snow crunching underfoot, icicles growing wondrously down the side of a drain pipe, a bird flitting from branch to branch knocking powdery dry snow from the overladen branches, and me with my little list of recipes for the big event, all organised and feeling more in hand now. The vegetables are yet to be purchased and just one or two more things. Sadly, I have neglected friends and family that are not here and do not feel good about that, but I can only cope with so much. At least this bit that I am doing I feel calm about and that the days will be well enjoyed.

The BBC news site carried a relevant article today about the competition over the Christmas cooking and I would have to admit that although I do not feel in competition, there is certainly a feeling of achievement concerning pulling off a meal for 13 people that is well timed, well constructed, delicious and presses all the right buttons. Gilding a turkey is a tad too far but it did make me laugh rather than feel righteous indignation over the perceived cost of it or its ostentatiousness. If I had a spare book of gold leaf at £4 I'm sure I would have had fun gilding a pudding or some sausages. I just don't fancy eating such a concoction.

College Days

Since September I have been at college and don't they say that your college days are your happiest? But I am not sure that happiness is not attributable to plenty of indulgence, partying and general mayhem rather than being in an institution of learning, growth and potential opportunity. You can tell I am old and I am certainly the oldest in our class and in our department. And that probably includes the teachers too!

Over lunch yesterday I was asked by one of the youngest in our class of mature students (about 21 years old) what made me decide to become a beauty therapist and I regaled her with my mid life crisis at the beginning of this year and my complete career change. As part of that I spoke about how I felt so much better about how I looked for the very first time in my life and these very big tears pricked my eyes with appreciation. Big hugs were dished out to me and then I continued to tell how each of my friends had helped. This young person seemed so very interested in me and my business experience and shared what she wanted to do. It was amazing. And to think once upon a time I would have dismissed a beauty therapist as a bit of a bimbo airhead. Maybe I could joke and say maybe that is what I am but actually we learn so much and will be tested to the nth degree and must pass everything either 100% or pretty much up there. They have changed the standards this year to raise them so it is new territory for all the teachers and as such we have much more homework than I ever anticipated. Oh the joys of college life and fitting it in around running a home and a new business. But I would not change it for anything.

There's a hole in my bucket

The more I fill it the more it leaks. So much so it is hard to know whether the bucket is ever half full or half empty and to that end I decided to do myself a Tarot spread with the question "What do I need to do in order to feel more confident about myself and happier with life?".

It has been nearly a year since I posted here and life hasn't stood still. In fact there has been some really big stuff and big head clearing going on, but how much head clearing and sorting does one person need? And with that criticism I have another thing to scold myself with, more self-chastising because if it has gone wrong it is my fault and if it has gone well then that is just good luck or good fortune but not due to my own hand. And that contradiction is not lost on me.  So I can self-examine and still more stuff keeps coming up. I just want to be. To be me and for that to be good enough. But somewhere deep inside there is a monstrous me I work hard to suppress, so that no-one can discover her. So that she doesn't leak out. Probably that ugly, mean, sneaky and selfish child I was told I was in childhood. Yet here I am all these decades later and surely those ghosts don't still have a grip but more than ever seem to have an impact on me.

These are wobbly times just now, and according to my cards quite a big time. Perhaps this is the final clear out or at least a major fundamental one. I am trying to move forward a big project and although I am tinkering away and making progress I feel it is so slow (but it really is) a big hand has me gripped round the throat throwing diversions my way. The latest being discontent with my youngest who is now 15 years old. What I need to remember is that I am not a failure and to not let myself be diverted down the self-pitying route. That remembering that as a teenager he really is not so bad and that actually I have had it really good with him for much longer than I ever did with my daughter. So, this seems like a good point to take stock and put it out there publicly as a means to get it through to my core just how full my cup is.

Reasons to be cheerful:

1. Darling Mr Doris and I have been happily married for over ten years. He is my stalwart partner and rock. He puts up with my emotions and he still chooses to hold my hand, and makes me frothy coffee and puddings and much more.
2. Daughter is now 20 years old and previously I have talked about the pain and anguish I felt in my non-existent relationship with her as a teen, but now she and I are very close and she is a darling to me. She has acknowledged who we are as parents and how we are and talks to me as if I might have something useful to say!
3. Son is actually a good kid on the whole. He does not do drugs (except the alcoholic fuelled mishap a few months ago), has some nice friends and is mostly polite. He has ideas about his future and occasionally sounds intelligent.
4. We live in a lovely home. It is very compact but it does. It is energy efficient, warm and cosy and a very good rent in a lovely little English town with essential shops just a minute away.
   
5. We have tenants living in our old house which we were not able to sell but having tenants is a viable alternative. Magically, within three weeks of us taking the risk to leap from our old house leaving it empty to be where we are now our tenants materialised and signed the contract. There have been issues with unpaid rent which have been a tad challenging but these are resolved and the prospects are good. One day, when the markets have recovered, we'll be able to sell it and end up with something in hand but if we had managed to sell it in the past year or so it would have been for very little and swallowed up by debts. So this appears to be a good investment after all.
6. Financially we have taken a huge dive but thank you to a very generous gift we have gotten by, and with me finally getting a grip on our finances, we will one day be in a very strong position. It is very tight just now and has been for a while but we'll be okay.
   
7. I have great siblings, especially the one we now live near who is wonderful along with her family.
   
8. And then I have some amazing friends and for that I am very honoured. I love them and they love me and this is a state of affairs for which I am very grateful. In the last year there has been some ups and downs due to my own actions concerning a couple of friends that has been very painful but these are thankfully resolved.

There are many more things for me to give thanks but this is a start in thanking for all the treasures that are part of my life.

As one of the curiosities of life, I have found myself in a most extraordinary position this year with my mother being potentially seriously ill. This woman who cut through my young life like a mad woman and whose love I once wanted but was cured of at the age of 30, and with whom I have had a tolerating relationship in recent years. But this year I have held her hand through some scary stuff and been her advocate with the health people being an intermediary to help them cope with her and to help her to cope with this foreign world of hospitals. She is not in any immediate danger but who knows what the months ahead may show. I have sat with her as she has told consultants about her terrible childhood with not a single blink of acknowledgement as to what happened to me and what she did. She has said that I have been like a mother to her during these months. And so I have. It has been all so bloody odd. It is like watching a movie of someone else's life which is perhaps no bad thing as a means of coping as one's once all powerful mother shows signs of fragility and a possible end.

Tarot
That picture above is my Celtic Cross spread using the Gilded Tarot. One possible reading says that the Page of Cups is me holding the mirror up to my life considering the question was "What do I need to do in order to feel more confident about myself and happier with life?". The Queen of Swords probably represents my mother and the effect of her cutting words on my life. The Lovers above represents the positive impression I give out to the world whilst the 10 of swords below reveals my depression hidden underneath, but that I can choose to get up and not be depressed. And so it goes on ultimately to say I will get out of it but I need to let go and to stop trying quite so hard. Living for the present and enjoying what I have is not a bad strategy and obvious really. Putting it into practise is easy to say and rationalise but I have concerns for the doing.

Blogging
It has been beneficial in the past so I may be back. Who knows. Each day is as it comes.

Love and hugs to the world.

Message in a bottle

It is hard to feel any optimism, yet optimistic news might be on the horizon. It might all work out jolly well actually, but I don't feel like that and find it hard to summon up any enthusiasm. Just in case it falls through, and just because it might not happen I must try to hold tight.

Holding tight these days means hiding away. Curled up and hidden in my bed alternating between tears, blankness and tapping away at my Nintendo brain training "germ buster" game. Like a helpless vegetable on the chopping board knowing that once upon a time I grew vigourously and fought back. My fight seems to have gotten up and walked off leaving me shockingly bitter and sour on the inside and I don't like this person. Not one bit. But in a contradiction, I know this isn't really me and some very tiny, far off voice inside me is shouting help, let me out.

On the outside, very few people know all this, but increasingly my friends are finding out - because I am talking more - and they have been magnificent throwing me lifelines. This year has been extraordinary on the friends front so the one thing I don't feel is alone. But this is still my life and despite a wonderful husband and friends I have this path to tread, but my feet just don't seem to be working.

Chastising myself and trying to get things into perspective has only contributed to the darkness. I feel enough guilt without adding more to the mix. "For God's sake, pull yourself together" I tell myself to little physical effect.

In early August my mother was showing strong intentions to blog therefore I felt an obviously stronger need to withdraw mine from eyesight. The whole world might be blogging but life is stranger than fiction and coincidences happen and she might just come across mine and recognise this or that. As it happens, I don't think she has taken forward blogging after all!

In mid August depression gripped so tight that after a weekend of tears I resolved to do something. On the Monday I went out to job agencies and by the Thursday I had started a temp job as a medical secretary in the oncology department of the local hospital. So maybe I might have fibbed about the extent of my experience as an audio typist but that did tickle me that I could go out and get a job and push the boundaries a tad. The pay is little above the minimum UK wage, but it is a regular 25 hours of work/income each week. Even through my depressions I continued to work, letting my hair fall over my eyes on those days the tears would not stop. I am still there and the work itself is a blog by itself.

Since that time I have also been plotting my morning temperature and my depressions and anything else of note. I had thought my monthly cycle had become irregular but so far it seems not, though the frequency of my severe one day depressions have been alarming, but they have actually been better of late. No surprise to know that I am writing this through one at present.

Currently 14 year old son has measles which I have been helping to nurse him through. He is having a rough time especially now with the itchyness of the rash. I never knew measles could be so itchy but it is like his skin is crawling and alive. I have tried various alternative aids but today Mr Doris has bought some Piriton so we will see if that eases and whether a better night sleep can be had by all.

Outside the leaves are creating rich blankets and as I passed through them earlier today I thought about a year ago when I didn't expect we would still be living here for another Autumn. That makes over 18 months our house has been on the market and we have slashed the price down to give it away but still nowt. Over a year my son has lived weekdays at my sister to go to school near her and comes home for the weekends. What was originally a six week exercise has pushed us beyond anything. I am not being physically beaten like as a child and yet I am not sure I have ever felt quite so cowed. My chest has sunken in and my right shoulder has dropped putting stress on the wrong muscles leading to a frozen shoulder. I have been in a lot of pain and my movements have been restricted. I sit typing at work wincing at times with discomfort. But no-one there knows, and the bigger picture is that the income, no matter how small, has been regular and well needed. I could, and should, be doing bigger and better things but I am unable.

Something so heavy is sitting on me and holding me back for something. Or, in my dark hours I ponder that I am done with and my life and usefulness is over.

Actually, my arm is on the mend. As is my belief in myself. The wonders of kinsesiology and the support of lovely friends hold me through. We might be renting our house instead of selling. An option I once dismissed might now turn out to be a viable and excellent way forward. This could even mean us moving before Christmas, maybe even in as little as three weeks! Then we can be together as a family. Finally landed. Starting afresh. I can't quite believe it will happen and that scares me.

Thank you dear kind blog friends for reading my message in a bottle!

Furstjewnitis

Introduction
Furstjewnitis is a common mental affliction that affects mature adults feeling their life is somewhat out of control and rushing past. It is a momentary precipice that can either lead to depression, great soul searching or even increased activity.

Furstjewnitis is most commonly a response to calendric triggers and the condition usually occurs in summer. It is not contagious. There is no medicine that can deal with the affliction, although alcohol has been known to be used, and the affliction usually clears up on its own.


Symptoms
The early symptoms of furstjewnitis are similar to those of common depression. They include:

• twinges of the mental faculties
• mild feelings of loss
• mild anxiety

After two to three days the symptoms tend to peak, and may become more severe:

• confused thought processes
• fear of losing all
• faster than normal heartbeat
• irregular eating and sleeping patterns
• continuous low mood or sadness
• feelings of hopelessness and helplessness
• low self-esteem
• tearfulness
• feelings of guilt

These symptoms can be very worrying, but most cases of furstjewnitis are not serious. However, if you are showing symptoms of furstjewnitis and are under 40 years old, or have an underlying mental health problem then you should see your GP as soon as possible.


Causes
Most cases of furstjewnitis are a simple process caused by the passing of time. Particularly the end of May and the onset of June triggering the realisation that the middle of the year was rapidly passing by.

Once the affliction enters the sensory system, it makes its way down to the furthest reaches of the mind distorting all perceptions.


Diagnosis
Self-diagnosis is usually sufficient. The blot test involving discarded calendar pages may also be used.


Treatment
There is no medicine that can deal with the affliction that causes furstjewnitis and most cases clear up on their own within two weeks. However, there are treatments that can ease your symptoms and make them more comfortable.

If your furstjewnitis is mild, you can treat it at home in the following ways:

• Being proactive - stop whinging and get on with getting things done.

• Alcohol - used sparingly, alcohol can numb the effects of furstjewnitis but this is only a temporary sedative. However, on occasion, it may be sufficient to allow the affliction to pass and no longer be a problem.

• Retail therapy - use online shopping websites to order the most extravagant items that make you smile. However, it is important to not actually enter any payment details and to definitely not press the buy button. This form of retail is particularly effective as it does not lead to further debt.

• Glass therapy - look at the year being half full and all that has been done and achieved rather than the year being half empty or half gone and nothing done.

Complications
Severe depression leading to the pits of hell.


Prevention
Get off your backside. Go out and have fun or at least try to. Walking the walk and talking the talk is extremely effective as a preventative measure.


Useful advice
Blogging has been known to be a help and sometimes a hindrance.

Life garage

Sometimes, our cars get better care than we do. Serviced each year, they are checked over with oil washed through, exhausts and other worn items replaced, mended or cleaned. And yet our bodies, the finest engines in the world, go on for decades without any thought for servicing, coping with the abuses we throw at them from alcohol to tiredness to stress. Well, I have anyway.

A few weeks ago I went to the doctor with an issue that had arisen and once there, like a prisoner in the dock, asked for a number of other issues to be taken into consideration. Maybe I struck gold because my new doctor at my new doctors surgery seemed to have all the time in the world, or maybe I am so out of service it was about time I showed my face. She gave me over twenty whole minutes of her time and it felt great with her gently insisting "was there anything else" they could help with.

Yesterday was the first of my investigations, the original concern, and that was utterly clear and OK. And allayed connected fears that I might have had for the future on that score. So that's one down and ticked off. Next week I have a full range of blood tests, last week I had a urine test, and I'll get all those results in a couple of weeks.

As well as my body there is my mental health. The Doctor even touched on that and even though I have much to stress me concerning trying to sell house and move as well as finances and worrying about kids, I reckon I am much stronger and more in control than I feel at times. Helped by being more pro-active lately. It would help greatly that a suitable buyer came along and not only love our house but also get their finances sorted to arrange a quick purchase. Leaving us free to start again in rented property with all money earned being saved or usefully used than going in to debts here and there.

Icing on the cake would be to have a nice, affordable rented house very near son's new school (which is in an area that we couldn't afford to buy just now) and near to the little shops for a bakery and a Post Office. We'd have a driveway for off-road parking; a little garden to tend and sit out in; a main room large enough to be a living room and an office with large windows to look out on the world; large enough bedrooms and space for our books; a decent bedroom for my son to be so happy, and he could independently get to and from school and go to after school clubs such as Fencing and Basketball, and see his friends after school; a kitchen with space to eat and enjoy cooking; a conservatory or second reception for an alternative place to relax or eat and have friends over; a fabulous landlord grateful to have us nice people to stay and look after their house; and our growing bank balance enabling us to have security, buy our next house, go travelling to visit far flung family and friends and to have fun.

Oh yes, I am booked into the Life Garage and all these things are being looked at and are going to be fixed.

Been busy

As I scan through my mini-list of things I needed to do in the last few days I have ticked off quite a few items that have been waaaay overdue. There are a few more things to do on that list but for some reason I am here blogging instead. Malingering and avoidance.

Not good.

On the other hand, I have eight items ticked off. Eight whole items. Worth a brownie point or two in the scheme of things rather than kicking myself for what I haven't yet done. If I was to think of it, I know there are other things that didn't make it to that list ..... from the dark and dusty recesses of my conscious always waiting in the background to attack and reprimand me. So maybe I'll do another list in a few days and see what gets added to that, and tick off a few more items.

That is good.

In the last week there were moments when I stood on the edge of a great precipice and decided not to fall into its grasp. That I wasn't going to be swallowed up in wallowing self-pitying mud that sticks inside the crevices and needs to be scrubbed out. Side-stepping the depths I wrote my list and got on. But someone was laughing at me this week because a visual migraine was slapped upon me and wiped out one whole day and left the next marred. It is now a glorious Sunday morning: the windows have been thrown open; the plants watered before delighting in my frothy coffee and warm croissants made by an adoring hubby; the music is playing loud through the slimline speakers and I am about to tackle another item or two on my list.

Oh glorious day, I can do anything.

Cauliflower Cheese

Food is comforting and healing. For instance, I made this cauliflower cheese recipe the other day when I was feeling a bit down and looked forward to the therapy of making the white sauce. Cooking through the flour and butter and slowly adding the milk bit by bit keeping it all smooth is almost like an art. It takes time and patience but is a delightful process. In the end though, I tried out the quick method and was delighted by a better taste than usual, which could be just hit and miss, but missed out of the full therapy of the mixing.

Just now I am feeling out of sorts. One of those minor blips and so I am writing about food to cheer me up.

Mr Doris particularly loves cauliflower cheese that we often have it and sometimes he makes it and sometimes I do. (It is funny but I often want to write it as cauliflour cheese and not sure why that is.) Some end results are better than others but the main tip is that the sauce will only thin, if anything, and will not "improve" in the oven. So the sauce has to be right before it goes onto the cauliflower.

The other big tip is to NOT add any salt at all to this recipe. It does not need it as the cheese seems to contain enough salt.

Ingredients:
Equal quantities of marge (or butter) and flour (maybe 65 grams)
3/4 litre milk (but don't use it all at once in case it is too much)
2 teaspoons dried English mustard powder
Black pepper
250gm cheese grated
1 cauliflower

Put the oven on to 200C to preheat.

Cut cauliflower in largish florets keeping as much of the stalk as possible (ie don't waste any of it!). Steam for about 9-10 minutes to just cook whilst making the sauce. Aim for firm - don't let it get too soft.

The Quick Method:
Put butter, flour, mustard powder and 3/4 of the cold milk altogether into cold saucepan and put on the heat. Use a hand whisk and gently whisk the flour into the cold milk as it heats and whisk in butter as it melts. Keep whisking gently until it comes to boil and turn heat down to a low manageable level and keep whisking. The sauce will thicken almost immediately without lumps! Really, it does! I was so surprised that I had to share this was indeed true. The idea is to keep the sauce cooking to cook the flour. This whole process takes maybe three minutes. Add more of the milk if needed. Aim for a very thick cream sauce. Keep on low heat stirring occasionally. Grind in black pepper and stir in about 3/4 of the grated cheese. Taste and add more pepper if needed.


The Therapy Method:
Melt butter in saucepan and when melted add the flour and mustard powder and mix. It will turn into a roux paste ball and you need to keep it moving with a wooden spatula. Cook for about a minute or so. Add a dribble of cold milk to the base of the pan and let it heat slightly and start to stir into the roux ball. It will reform into a ball again and keep repeating the process until the roux ball is more a paste and then you are pouring the milk directly onto it. Keep stirring and combining the milk as needed. Don't rush it otherwise it will not thicken. This process can take five to ten minutes but is relaxing. Aim for a very thick cream sauce. Keep on low heat stirring occasionally. Grind in black pepper and stir in about 3/4 of the grated cheese. Taste and add more pepper if needed.

Don't forget, the sauce has to be thick. It will not thicken in the oven, nor will it lose any lumps!

Transfer hot, steamed cauliflower into saucepan and stir through to combine over all the florets and then tip into a heatproof dish. Sprinkle remaining cheese over the top and put in hot oven for about twenty minutes or until nicely crispy on top and bubbling round the sides.

Serve with boiled potatoes or even just by itself. This one was gloriously delicious and worthy of photographing. The taste is of thick unctious creamy cheesy-ness with a tang of mustard smothered around barely crisp succulent freshness of the caulifower.

Hot salty tears

One of those nights where I have slept earlier on the sofa and then having gone to bed after midnight have lain in bed awake since. Contemplating life, the universe and everything, one thing leads to another and here I am crying. Hot salty tears that flow effortlessly and I wonder why am I crying? About events and situations that happened thirty to thirty-five years ago it seems utterly ridiculous. All whilst the steady, deep breaths of darling Mr Doris sleeping alongside.

It doesn't feel as if I want to be pitied or felt sorry for. It is not that I want to be a child again - heaven forbid I should go back to that purgatory. Maybe it is an escape mechanism for all the things not going right just now I can fall back into blaming my past. But I do not think it is that either, especially at a time I have realised I need to let go once again. Perhaps it is the over-indulgence in the red wine earlier in the evening but I feel as if I have slept it off already.

A week or so ago a crazy idea flashed across my mind that perhaps I wanted to confront my parents and to give them the opportunity to say sorry. To give them the chance to clear the air before any of us shuffle from this mortal coil. I don't for one moment think they are actually aware of the pain I carry from my mother's physical and mental blows (as a result of her own screwed up childhood) and from my father's negligence and complicity. Instead I organise family outings and treat them with extraordinary kindness and tolerance, even though I say it myself.

Back in the 1980s I came to a certain peace with my past for a while. At a time when I learned inside myself to forgive and let go although even then I felt a strong forgiveness I found it very hard to forget. I also realised nothing was to be gained from talking over the past with my parents: my mother would just deny it.

Which drives me back again to wondering why on earth should crummy events from all those years have such an impact now. I feel pathetic as a result. Like I should just pull myself together and move on. Or maybe I should face the fear and bring it out and let my parents in on it. If I have screwed up big time with my children I would rather they gave me the chance to fix it. But then I am really mainly sane. My mother is a little child inside. Not a child I could love but an egotistical little bitch who is mean, brutal and demanding. Sure she has a very kind side in an over-bearing "what-I-give-must-ultimately-be-paid-back" kind of way but nothing endearing to me. She wants to be loved and that is probably all she ever wanted. But she has had so many chances and so many lovely people in her life who have tried to show her love and friendship and if she blows it then that is her path.

Meanwhile I have known love and am loved. So why do the ghosts of the past still torment and affect me on occasion. What am I supposed to learn from all this - I am sure there must be a reason but I never seem to be able to put a finger on what it is. One day the answer will come from within. Thankfully writing it down here my eyes are now dry and perhaps sleep will wrap me in warm slumbers.