Ikea on a hot Saturday afternoon is probably not a good idea, but when you have the coolest sister & cutest baby nephew anything is fun. When you get all the bits you need and finally snap a good outfit pic it’s a successful Saturday.
This dress is so old, but I bloody love it. Every summer I hope Monsoon will bring out another similar design, but so far I have been disappointed. I try to ration wearing it because I always feel amazing in it and I really dread the day it dies.
Dress – Monsoon
Kimono – Truly Yours
This kimono is another old favourite and I added a new one to the mix with these cherry earrings. The Baba is particularly fond of the cherries, it’s a very good thing he is learning to be gentle or my ears might not survive.
Earrings – Gabi
If the print wasn’t enough to make you fall for this dress, it has pockets! Three cheers for feel good Saturdays.
I’ve been asked many times what depression feels like. I imagine the exact sensation differs from person to person. It’s hard to describe, multi faceted, but it always begins the same. I always know when I’m slipping.
It starts with an unsettled feeling. Never an exact issue that can be pin pointed. Although I may be experiencing definite problems; they aren’t the source of my discomfort. It begins as a general unease that initially believe I can soothe. Have you ever had a bad day, but you know you’ll feel better once you get home? You just need to get into more comfortable surroundings or have a nice cup of tea for things to be vastly improved? That’s how it kicks off.
Except you get home and nothing changes. You think I just need to talk to so so, they’ll help me. They don’t. So, you have bath.
Try to read
Paint your nails
Watch something soppy with Tom Hanks
Attempt some overdue tasks.
Nothing works. The pit in your stomach remains. You’re stuck in this icky I don’t feel quite right bubble. It’s not terrible, but it’s also not nice. You pin your hopes on tomorrow. Right now is a blip. If you can only get to sleep, you will awake unburdened.
You can’t sleep, though. Of course you can’t. Tomorrow is very far away and when it comes its colours are dulled. You want to distract yourself with pleasantries. You’re still trying to pretend that a thing exists that would erase the dread. You swing from loved ones to safe places. You sample all your favourite things, panic growing as nothing makes a dent. None of it feels light. Any pleasure is fleeting. You’re not buried yet, but you are digging the hole and you know what’s coming.
You don’t know how long it will last or exactly why this happening again. You don’t know how to stop it. You know it’s going to be bad and the only way out is through. Sometimes I think that knowledge might be the worst bit. I wish I didn’t know how much it’s going hurt.