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.
I’m doing a spot of enforced positive thinking & hoping it bears fruit. Join in me in focusing on the pleasant and crossing my fingers that the good feelings grow.
1. I don’t have much call for work out wear, but I did love that plus size Nike mannequin. Fat folk can & do live full lives. I love it when brands get behind us wearing whatever the hell we want. It’s also satisfying to watch people tying themselves in knots trying to excuse their fat phobia.
2. I’ve been planning a self love/sexy gallery wall in my bedroom for so long and this month I finally executed it. It makes me happy to lie in bed and look at my kinky Shakespeare.
3. I’ve been out of the dating pool for quite a while. My initial dips back in were disappointing & a tad stressful. I didn’t feel all that hopeful about finding the sort of chilled out experience I was after. Colour me surprised to have spent June having a relaxed & super fun time with someone lovely.
4. In the grand scheme of things this may be on the trivial side, but I like it as a symbol. The Trump administration banned embassies from flying the rainbow flag for Pride month. Lots of embassy staff around the world found other ways to show their solidarity. Possibly the best example being the embassy in New Delhi, who lit up the entire building. In the face of this appalling government it is heartening that people are taking steps to visibly resist.
5. While we’re on the subject my nails have all been rainbow themed this month & carrying Pride around with me has been very pleasing.
6. I am a late adopter and probably about twenty years too old, but I have fallen in love with Lewis Capaldi this month. His songs are beautiful and his insta stories are bloody funny. If you are the one person left on the planet who hasn’t heard of him, fix that.
7. My amazing muffin made me incredibly proud this month when she won 2 bronze medals at her first Jui Jitsu state championships. My girl is so talented & her accomplishments make me so happy.
8. It’s hard not to smile when you know you’re wearing the cutest knickers. Wilde Mode happy pussy pants have been a simple pleasure this month.
9. June was the month that finally brought the new series of Killing Eve. It’s been driving me crazy that our American friends got to enjoy Villanelle’s antics whilst I languished murderless. All I can say is, it was worth the wait. Sandra Oh is a goddess.
You may have noticed a down turn in blog activity. I’m struggling with a little writer’s block. Or big one. Even whipping this up is more tricky than I’d like.
I think my chronic indecision is the problem. I’m wrestling with a couple of Uber decisions and a whole host of related little ones. Trying to make all those choices correctly is eating up all my headspace. I am a tiny bit paralysed on the creative front.
Bear with me. I’m hoping I’ll the words will flow again soon.
Last night I shed my jammies & dragged my sister out on a school night. We headed west to catch Kiri Pritchard McLean at The Stand.
I’m a big fan of Kiri’s (Rachel Fairburn’s) podcast, All Killa No Filla. I’ve also seen her in various tv shows, plus bits & pieces at the Fringe. I knew she was funny & cool, but I had never seen her perform her own show. I’m so bloody glad I bagged tickets for Victim, Complex because it’s incredible. Stand up shows that make you cry are kind of my thing and Kiri may be my new queen.
Everything about Victim, Complex is perfect. Kiri’s bright yellow, sequinned adorned person dominates the stage. She welcomes the audience into dark experiences with much hilarity and stunning vulnerability. It is powerful to watch someone take control of their painful truth.
Gaslighting & mental illness probably don’t seem like natural stand up material, but it works. It’s definitely an emotional hour. The laugh out loud moments far number the tears. It’s an uproariously relatable show; packed with filth, a plot twist & the wisdom of that drunk girl we’ve all met in a club toilet. It’s all underlined by an important & empowering message.
My body is properly punishing me for daring to leave the house, but it was absolutely worth it. That’s pretty much the best review a show can get. If Pritchard McLean is playing anywhere near you, buy a ticket.
And if that wasn’t enough to convince you, there’s a free badge!
I knew Mother’s Day was going to be tough this year. Since I always over think every little thing, I did spend some time dwelling on that in the run up to Sunday. Occasionally my inability to switch my thoughts off serves me well, this was just such an instance.
It didn’t change how sad I felt, but I did stumble upon a new strategy. Simply put, I’m going to try my damnedest to have more fun. My life is not really all that easy (who’s is?). There’s a lot of pain, exhaustion, stress & large scale disappointment. None of which I can control. I’ve had to make some huge adjustments in my life expectations this year and that is, well, a process. I can’t change the fundamentals of my situation. I can let go a little bit. I can allow myself to please just me more of the time and I am going to.
I’m going to date. For fun, god help me. I’m not seeking a soul mate or partner. The aim is merely to find some amusing people I can do enjoyable things with. Hopefully without anyone making too many demands. I’m reviewing all my filed away lists of things I’ve always wanted to do and bloody well jumping on anything that is actually doable. Efforts will be made to ditch the guilt. I’m going to say more no’s to the things I do for the benefits of others that cut me in two. Plus a lot more yes’s to anything & everything that makes me feel good. To hell with the rules or convention. Life is going to fuck me regardless, I might as well squeeze as out as much glee as I can along the way.
With that in mind I began my week with a jaunt to Edinburgh to see my favourite man. Friends who will let you say anything and always leave you feeling better than they found you are magnificent. So, I soaked up too many glasses wine & just enough of his loveliness to give me a major boost. I followed up with the an almost perfect day at the farm. Watching my baby nephew discover the world is a truly beautiful experience. The tiny goats were also worth the trip.
I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck now. It’s going to take some recovery days to get back to ‘normal’. My ratio of doing to resting isn’t what I’d hope for. I’m giving myself permission to use some of those good days for pure frivolity.
Last week I tried to cheer myself up with a change of scene and mini treats. I had a little work in Edinburgh, so I booked a hotel and mixed business with some pleasure.
I received an exciting offer that included a photo shoot. I wasn’t sure I was up to doing a big scary thing, but pushing myself was a good idea. I definitely needed a reminder that other people recognise my talents. Work aside I took the opportunity to see a couple of my Edinburgh people whilst I was through. I spent an evening each with a couple of my favourite men and even got a tad drunkity two nights in a row. I rarely do much past 6pm these days. It was bloody lovely to get dressed up and have some adult fun. Cocktails & carry on was the perfect distraction.
It was also amazing to relax. Stepping away from my day to day life made it possible for me to temporarily shut off the falling apart portion of my mind. Crisp white sheets, starting my day with a swim and a yummy breakfast (that I didn’t have to make) all did me good.
Back in reality I tried to not to kill off my sapling of good cheer. I took my baby nephew swimming, it’s almost impossible not to feel good around that boy. I’ve taught him to say LaLa, what I what I called myself before I could say my name. Believe mewhen I tell you, my heart skips a beat every time he utters those two syllables. I bought myself beautiful flowers and delicious smelling candles. Ruffled the feathers of fuckwits with my radical accessories. Then indulged in some soppy, feel good films, tried Greggs’ yummy vegan sausage roll and attempted to not to stress about the mountain of tasks I didn’t conquer. It’s the little things in life, right?
My first non medical related outing in a while coincided with the emergence of spring (I hope I haven’t jinxed it). I took the opportunity of not having to wear winter gear to spruce myself up a tiny bit.
Bright, fresh Sunday mornings are perfect for record shop trawling. I really had no idea how much pleasure getting record player would bring me. Not in a wanky, the sound is amazing way. Although it does sound nice; the delight for me is trawling through old records hoping to find a gem. So far, I almost always do. I used to frequent Missing Records in my teens/early twenties when I had very little money, but a huge desire to play cool music at top volume. In the intervening years we’ve all stopped buying physical music. The resurgence of vinyl has changed that & reunited me with a lost love. Missing has changed locations, but it feels the same. I had forgotten how much I enjoy this kind of music shop. I am so happy to be getting reacquainted.
This weekend I managed to find a few classics plus some super sentimental and fairly odd choices. I’m going to blame my Granda for Brotherhood of Man. I simply can’t hear Save Your Kisses For Me without being flooded with childhood memories.
The rest of the day was spent vying with my mum and sister for all the baba’s cuddles. I was aided in my attempts to gain his affections by the shark on my t shirt. The boy is a big fan of ‘Baby Shark’ & instantly recognised the toothy creature. He then seized upon a new game in which he would point urgently at the shark & I would sing the song. It’s just as well I adore him because that song gets old pretty quick.
T- Shirt – Gift
Skirt – Lindy Bop
Cardi – Asos
Tights – Snag
My clever little man thought the stripey orange cats on my skirt looked like tigers, so we also got a chorus of roars throughout the day. All of which goes to show that dressing in my demented fashion is a very good idea.