insomnia

5 things I liked in April…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

April has been a very up & down month. Lots of really lovely time spent with my littles & their people. Also, an equal amount of time despairing at current events & struggling with mood dips.

I have coined the name ‘Depression Light’ for this state. It’s not deepest, darkest agony. More of an ugh that makes everything feel a bit futile. I am generally anxious and really not sleeping well. Sometimes it’s the little things that keep you afloat. These have been my buoyancy aids this month.

Spring Lambs

Taking my niblings to see the newborn lambs at a Farm Park was very life affirming. Watching the kids pet the baby lambs & their Mums was really wonderful. I even got a wee snuggle in myself. We learned that most sheep have twins, some have triplets & even rarely have quads. Imagine having all those little legs inside you? Animals are incredible. They mostly give birth all on their own and their babies are up on their precious little legs within 20mins. All that & they are adorable.

Iron Strawberry

My silly body doesn’t properly digest iron. To combat the resultant anemia I have occasional iron infusions and daily iron supplements. My liquid iron came in a revolting mint chocolate flavour. It did not taste at all like chocolate. The best description I can give of the flavour is a gritty, oily minty nightmare. I did not enjoy swallowing a spoon of it twice a day. The arrival of this month’s prescription brought a partial reprieve; strawberry flavoured iron! Honestly, it doesn’t taste good, but it is not the horror show of the minty choc. Small victories.

Vinyl Bonding

One of the things my niece requested for Xmas was a record player. She’s 15 and very into all things retro. It came as quite a shock that most the retro she’s loving hails from my hey day. Once I got over how old that made me, I have been loving introducing her to classics from my youth. Turns out we have similar musical tastes. I have been loving sending her old albums and the long FaceTimes we have to discuss them. I was worried that I’d lose my cool auntie status once she hit high school. Alanis Morrisette, Jeff Buckley and our joint penchant for saying it how it is might just buy me another few years.

The ‘Beautiful’ Game

A funny thing happened whilst I was doing some research for a piece. The piece was on football culture, I am familiar as an observer. I grew up in the West Of Scotland surrounded by football fanatics. I know a bit about football culture. I don’t however enjoy the game. It bores the life out of me. However, during my research I discovered something I unexpectedly love. Stick to Football, is a podcast (it’s filmed too) where ex footballers talk about football. Except they stray from the topic and it’s hilarious. Especially Roy Keane. I doubt I could have told you who he was a few months ago, I am now a bonafide fan. I do have to fast forward when they get bogged down in tactics and players I’ve never heard of, but I still look forward to a new weekly episode. I even ended up reading both of Keane’s books. Those close to me find it hilarious that I, the vocal hater, am an avid watcher of something with football in the title. Hey, you can’t help what you love.

Comfort Reads

Whenever I’m feeling down I turn to literature for comfort. When my insomnia starts acting up I need a steady stream of familiar favourites. This month I have been re reading some of my most loved novels. Jane Austen is a go to, I love sinking into her world. I started the month with Persuasion & am finishing it off with Mansfield Park. You can’t beat a clever woman getting the happy ending she deserves. Also at the ready was Barbara Trapido. The Travelling Hornplayer holds a special place in my heart. I found it at a difficult time and it has brought me peace on every read. It even partly inspired one of my tattoos. Trapido weaves intricate stories with overlapping characters. A truly beautiful writer. Her only flaw being the focus on middle class/oxbridge set, but the storytelling is so good that I can forgive it. Finally, I sought refuge in Carrie Fisher. Fisher was the first writer whose words expressed my experience of mental illness. She was a genius; no one on the planet ever wrote like her. This month I choose Delusions of Grandma & Surrender the Pink, but I suspect I’ll be diving into her catalogue again in May.

What gets you through?

If you like what I do you can support me on Patreon.

Life is a rollercoaster…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

It’s been a mixed few weeks. The Easter holidays presented lots of opportunities for auntie time. Unfortunately, my body has seized every opportunity to mess with me.

My first Easter adventure was a trip to The Burrell Collection. I spent a lot of time here as a kid and always enjoyed it. It is so nice to share it with the next generation. The boy absolutely loved all the swords and armour. I loved watching him explore.

Dress – Forever 21 Tights – Snag Boots – Air Cloudies

The Burrell is really good on the accessibility front. Wide flat spaces that are easy to manoeuvre. Plenty of places to sit throughout, plus light weight stools you can carry around with you. Spacious lifts to all floors. It is a stunning buildings, with exhibits to entertain all ages.

As you know, I’m big into my glasses. I can never have enough. Thus, I was delighted to collab with Firmoo. These blue beauties have been on my face since the moment they arrived.

Glasses – Firmoo *

Next up was a little dip with my bestie & her brood. Swimming is my favourite, not least because I can properly carry on with kids. In the water I can move with ease. It feels so good not to be in pain every second. It’s even better to play a shark, spin the kids, help them ‘swim’. Much fun was had even if my littlest niece was frustrated that she needed to hold on to me. She was determined that she could do it herself and was not convinced when I explained that she couldn’t swim. Swimming with littles requires clothes that can be easily pulled on whilst squeezed into a tiny changing room with a wiggly child. These wide legs were perfect.

Trousers – Pockets and Sedition Cardigan – Monsoon

A few days later I was back with the treesome for the twin’s birthday. I can’t believe they are three already. It’s a cliche, but kids really do grow too fast! I still call these two babies, which is wishful thinking. They are so smart & funny & full of love. It is an honour to be part of their lives. We had a classic children’s party; balloons, cake & pass the parcel. It was a joy.

On the flip side my insomnia is in full force. Tossing & turning for hours every night is torture. I lie there exhausted, but feeling this horrendous unsettled sensation all over. The more I dwell on this physical embodiment of anxiety, the further away sleep gets. Every day feels like wading through mud. Surviving on minuscule amounts of sleep is the absolute worst.

When my body isn’t refusing to sleep, it’s passing out. Pots is kicking my arse. My latest fainting disaster resulted in two small fractures of my hand. The good news is that the bones are fast healing. The bad is that it is my walking stick hand and weight bearing is not easy. I’m feeling overwhelmed about how this is going to impact my mobility. Fingers crossed the predicted 3 weeks healing time is correct.

I might have to wear an ugly splint, but my nails look great.

Thankfully Bronan is always around for snuggles. A purring cat is a great stress reducer.

* Use my code Kerr50 for up to 80% off.

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

Video killed the radio star…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

In my usual very late to the party I have lately been getting into YouTube. It is one of my new insomnia coping strategies. Since I am all about sharing, here are the channels I’ve been watching in the wee small hours.

If girl boss/self help influencers drive you crazy, Keyas World is the perfect counter point. It feels like toxic positivity is on the rise. Social media is full of no excuses, manifest it, take some supplements bullshit; it infuriates me. It’s all a con, they always have something to sell you and that product is usually snake oil. They target vulnerable people without the credentials to justify the advice they spew. I love the way Keya’s World debunks these charlatans with humour whilst highlighting the harm this rhetoric can do.

Women with a picture of brain on her head. Brain scan images behind her. The words Brain Scam at the top

On a similar theme there is Okay-ish. This YouTube channel & podcast is the work of Maryellen Dance, a licensed mental health counsellor. She takes on self help influencers who offer unqualified mental health advice. If you have ever watched Rachel Hollis or Mel Robbins and came away feeling shitty, you need to check out Okay-ish.

Pink background with white script okay-ish

I know why I watch true crime content; it makes feel more prepared to know all the insane tactics that dangerous people use. However, I do not know why I tend to consume it in the middle of the night. In any case when I can’t sleep ThatChapter’s non sensationalised take on true crime works for me.

Screen shot from that chapter YouTube

I can’t get The Late Show With Stephen Colbert on any of my streaming in the UK, so I was very pleased to find I could watch most of the show on YouTube. He has good guests, his monologue is funny and he just comes across as a nice man. The fact the I find him yummers doesn’t hinder my enjoyment either.

Stephen Colbert with nyc in the background. Text says the late show with Stephen colbert

Finally, I have found YouTube to be a great resource for finding gentle Yoga & Pilates. I can’t manage much on the exercise front. Being able to do accessible routines at home has been very helpful. My current favs are Yoga with Uliana and Nhs Pilates for Beginners. Both have wide range of videos for different abilities, the nhs one is great as they have videos for specific problems. Exercise in my living room is excellent for me as getting to a class would likely use up all available spoons!

Women in pink leggings doing crossed legged Pilates stretch . Txt reads nhs Pilates for beginners

If you enjoy my content you can support me on Ko-Fi.

Word therapy…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

On one of my recent insomnia fuelled drives for distraction I stumbled upon an interview that persists in my thoughts. It was Anderson Cooper discussing grief & loss with Stephen Colbert. Both had significant losses early in life. Anderson talked of wishing he had been physically marked by the experience. This is of course a reality I am familiar with. Which led to some slightly self indulgent word therapy.

He talked about how he felt it might be easier to have a permanent sign of the damage so that others may be aware of his condition. An idea I suspect he’d soon realise the error of if he actually did bear a mark of loss. He continued that he thought people should know that he wasn’t necessarily the person he should be. Tragic events had diverted him from the person he started life as. This concept felt lifted from my very own brain. Of course much thinking ensued.

When Anderson talked of being marked he suggested a scar running down his face. His reasoning being that in the wake of his mother’s recent death people had offered condolences, but also shared their experiences of loss. He found this sharing to be comforting and it’s not a thing that generally happens. The scar would show his pain & people would feel able to have those conversations. Colbert agreed in part as he recognised the feeling of his loss being a continual part of his life, whilst the world at large rarely considers it. All sentiments I relate to. I do often struggle with just how often I think of my babies when they’re rarely acknowledged by anyone else. That led me to ask myself questions I had thought settled.

I understand their reasoning, my experience just doesn’t bear it out. The look of my self harm was never a factor I gave much thought. Outside of the need to hide it from others, the visual of impact was a non issue. I never cared. Ugly scars were just a by product of a necessary thing. The pain & blood & release & expiation were essential. If mutilation was a consequence of that so be it. I don’t think it occurred to me that I had another option. Yet, now, clothed in the aftermath it does seem fitting.

If I could exclude third party reaction it would make sense. I can see a twisted symmetry in my flesh being ravaged, but still living. At my core that’s how I feel. I contributed to my destruction and then I toiled to repair the ruin. Of course, you can’t escape the opinions of others. Those who care about you are hurt by the reminder of your pain. Those who don’t know you are as often cruel as kind. Carrying your story everywhere is a complicated matter. Anderson might end up preferring the anonymity of a metaphorical scar.

The second part is harder to reason. For a very long time I wanted nothing more than to be the person I was before. It took me years to accept that wasn’t possible & several more to realise that wasn’t my fault. I still missed that fun, capable, handle it all girl. Still wondered what she may have become, but I didn’t hate the me that life had created anymore. Little by little I learned to like myself. I started to believe that might be able to take all the broken pieces & make something beautiful.

The universe had other ideas. It really does enjoy smashing me up. Each time I lost a bit making a whole seemed less & less likely. Now that I know for sure how unlikely, those other mes feel important again. I keep thinking about who I could have been. Which variation of myself was I supposed to be?

I can’t help but imagine that original version of myself would have made a shinier, happier life. That 19yr old was a powerful force. She’d have been unstoppable at forty. Even if I’d sustained the original hit there all there a still multiple variants. All these possible lys that could have existed if you subtract chips along the way. Sure, that could probably be said for anyone; I just don’t know if everyone can so clearly identify the points of impact. It makes it easier to compare the before & after.

I had made peace with the person I am. I don’t reject her now. The what if’s have simply grown louder. There could have been so much more. In the end I don’t care about the scars. I’d even take Cooper’s imagined facial disfigurement if it gave me a chance at one of those parallel lives. The older I get, the more certain I become; I want the more.

If you enjoy my writing you can support me on Ko-Fi

The hurting time…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Chronic illness becomes a way of life. You don’t stop feeling bad, but you do get used to it. Humans adapt. Pain becomes the new normal.

Most days spoonies deal with symptoms that would send healthy folk to the Dr. On bad days many would be considering 999. Chronic peeps, however, muddle through. Sometimes flare ups floor me. There are days when brushing my teeth is an epic feat. Others I function to varying degrees. I work & play & everything in between. Always, though, I hurt.

I pay the price if I over do it. I carefully plan routes & venues around how many steps will be required, if there is seating, stairs & so on. I pre check menus for items that won’t make me sick. Plan meals around when meds need to be taken. I do everything tired. It’s so hard to sleep & even when I do crash I wake feeling little difference.

Selfie of women’s sad face.

I found a way to work around my illness. Squeeze pleasure out of any socialising I can manage. I have become accustomed to cancelling things I really wanted to do. The list of things my body is no longer capable of grows. It’s ridiculous how sad felt upon realising I won’t jump on trampoline or turn a cartwheel again. Especially when I don’t even have much desire to do either. It’s just another limit. Another no.

I persevere. I follow Drs orders. I try all manner of suggested remedies. Acupuncture, cbd, floatation tanks, tens, yoga, the works. Some treatments help. There are medications that work wonders. Others that I need, but that cause problems. I take drugs to counteract the side effects of other drugs. It’s exhausting, but it’s my life.

Hand holding 5 pills of various shapes & colours

It is not all bad. I have privileges that many do not. My home is warm & safe. I have access to excellent care. I am gifted with skills & talents that allow me to pursue work I love. I have safety nets. I had years of being fit & well. I went to uni, got stuck into the partying & had the chance to travel a little. I’m loved. Pleasures great & small find me. My cat is the cutest. Life could be worse. I can handle this.

Cute black and white lying on back fluffy belly exposed

Except when I really, really can’t. There are days when chronic life overwhelms me. Days like today, when every inch of me is sore. Keeping a brave face when you’re throwing up for fifth time in as many hours is a challenge. Every day my first sensation is agony. Aching joints. Throbbing head. Burning skin. Churning stomach. Each little movement hurts. Remaining sedentary isn’t an option either. My arthritic parts seize up. Leading to, yup, more pain.

Food refuses to stay in my stomach. Don’t eat & the acid bubbles up my throat. Attempt to line my raw stomach and the vomiting makes everything worse. I can’t concentrate enough to distract myself. Sleep is illusive. There’s no escape.

Burdening others with my misery triggers my guilt. Keeping it all in is horribly lonely. Pain relief doesn’t work. Positive thinking is way out of reach. Some days are hard. It is too hard be grateful. Impossible to hang onto hope of easier times. Today I’m just thoroughly sick & tired of always being sick & tired.

Plus size women in green leopard print maxi dress with walking stick

If you enjoy my writing you can support me on Ko-Fi

Welcome to my nightmare…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

I didn’t sleep last night (shocker, right). Actually, I did kind of sleep. I was so dog tired by 11pm that I decided to try going to bed like a normal person. I read for a bit and much to my relief, I fell asleep. For about 45mins.

I was awoken by the first nightmare around midnight. By half three and the fourth nightmare I had given up on the idea of sleeping. Nightmares are the part of PTSD that I don’t really talk much about. Maybe because they are an intermittent problem. Probably also because it’s not something that people (in my experience) take seriously. Responses to my attempts to discuss my nightmares have ranged from vaguely dismissive to full on belittlement.

I think when I say nightmares people hear bad dreams. You’re probably thinking of anxiety dreams (teeth falling out, failing exams, getting fired etc) or standard scary dreams (trapped somewhere, being chased, really bad person creeping around your house horror movie type stuff). Maybe you’re even imaging those childhood bad dreams that are terrifying in ways that are incredibly specific to you. All of which are horrid, but not at all debilitating. I suppose I do understand why folk say things like ‘well, they’re not real’ or ‘as soon as you wake up it’ll be gone’; that’s their experience. Oh, how I wish it were universally true.

Creepy face

PTSD nightmares are a whole other thing. They are related to trauma. For me, they often mirror my flashbacks. Sometimes they’ll get creative and go abstract. I’m trying to get some rest and my mind will just be replaying amplified versions of the most distressing moments of my life. My head is a terrible editor; it just rapidly cuts from one horrendous image to the next. All of which are graphic. Blood and dead babies are the common denominators. They’ll begin in a very realistic & upsetting fashion and degenerate into gruesome bloodbaths (sometimes literally).

Blood splatter

As I mentioned the nightmares are a sporadic problem. They almost always have a trigger. That can be a really tiny thing that I possibly didn’t even pay that much attention to until it starts becoming a pivotal detail in my dreams. It can also be a major life event. My nightmares are usually accompanied by & linked to flashbacks in my waking hours. They always come in clusters. I never have just one upsetting dream. They plague me every time I close my eyes. All of which adds up to a significant disturbance.

The torment doesn’t melt away when I regain consciousness. There’s always more to come and it is real. Every scene is drawn from my reality. I end up scared to sleep and just as scared to be awake. I can’t be alone in this because nightmares are close to the top of every PTSD symptoms list. Any psych evaluation or questionnaire will ask about them. Yet, I don’t see much discussion of the topic. I include myself in that. It’s an aspect of my mental health that I feel really uncomfortable being honest about. I don’t know exactly why we’re all so tight lipped, but I’d bet stigma plays a part.

Sleeping ly

It’s always the messy parts of mental illness that we shy away from. Anything that feels uncontrolled or dark or too close to crazy is glossed over. Those who haven’t experienced it don’t want to think about. Those of us who have don’t want to deal with judgement. Where the nightmares are concerned I think there’s also an element of feeling stupid. Kids get frightened of bad dreams. It’s hard to shake off the feeling that you should be able to handle it. Especially when that’s the message the world is giving you.

I’ve yet to discover anything that’ll chase the dreams away. Sleeping pills aren’t helpful because they make the nightmares more vivid. Thankfully they occur less frequently than they used to. Keeping quiet certainly isn’t helping. Perhaps if people knew what I was referring to when I say nightmares they would be less patronising. A little empathy can go a long way, but you have to understand someone’s experience before you can offer that.

Please don’t wake me…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves

Today kicks off Sleep Awareness Week, which aims to highlight the importance of good sleep. As a chronic insomniac I am of course acutely aware of how important sleep is. I’m writing this at 4am, so I haven’t found the cure for sleepless nights. I do though have some semi successful strategies.

My relationship with sleep has flipped from one extreme to the other. In my youth I could drop off anytime, anyplace. I loved to snooze and had zero issues dropping off. I was the queen of the long lie. Sleep became a problem when I first experienced mental health problems aged 19. Unfortunately, I have never managed to regain my easy breezy relationship with slumber. Almost twenty years on I have become accustomed to functioning on a few hours a night. Chronic pain has done little to aid a peaceful night, but an inability to calmly shut down is still a major obstacle in my quest for rest.

A decent night’s repose can affect everything from heart health to sex drive. It goes without saying that exhaustion also has a massive impact on mental health. The NHS advises that most of us need around 8hrs sleep to function properly. In fact, lack of sleep can so massively impair cognitive faculties that experts suggest driving after only 5 hours sleep is just as dangerous as driving drunk. Everyone should be mightily relieved that I cannot drive.

The long-term effect of insufficient sleep is grim. The anxiety of going to bed each night knowing achieving sleep will be a battle is wearing. The more you worry about not sleeping the less likely it becomes. Constant fatigue makes getting through daily tasks difficult, which adds to one’s stress levels. This in turn pushes that magical 8 hours even further out of reach. Long sleepless nights are lonely. There’s rarely anyone else awake leaving a busy mind way too much room to mull over worries. Throw pain into mix and you have a recipe for despair. Moving through the world in a worn-out shuffle will grind you down, which is why I offer my extensively tested tips on getting some god damned sleep.
I’m not going to waste your time with milky drinks and lavender under your pillow. Everyone knows the basics and they aren’t going to cure hardcore insomnia. I don’t have a failsafe solution, if I did, I’d snoring now. However, these are the things that I have had some success with over years.

Bedroom Tips

Keep your bedroom cool. Lowering your body temperature helps the body prepare for sleep.

In theory that’s why a hot bath should aid sleep, but I find any sleepiness gained from the temp drop is lost during the process of getting dry and organised for bed. If you do less faffing post bathing it might work better for you.

No tv in the bedroom. This is a definite for me. I find a television to be the opposite of relaxing. I need my bed and bedroom to be a completely chilled out zone. Which sits nicely with my next point.

Try to make your bedroom as pleasant as possible to be in. Obviously, that means different things for different people. For me it’s nice sheets, subtle scents, comfortable mattress.

Black out blinds are your friend. I could not live without mine.

Invest in one of those huge maternity pillows. They give so much support if you have back or joint pain. Plus they’re just super comfortable.

Sound Effects

Rain on window

I use sounds machine apps. I like heavy rain/ thunderstorm type sounds, but experiment and see what works for you. Something about being safe & protected from the elements I’m hearing sometimes helps me drift off.

Soothing music (whatever that means to you) at a low volume can also help. I like to mouth the lyrics and focus on words I enjoy rather than my own thoughts. Getting the volume just right is key for me, so again, you might need to experiment. Select specific songs and make a playlist beforehand. You don’t want anything that unexpectedly bring unpleasant or stimulating associations to mind.

Preparation

I should probably have started here, but lack of sleep melts your brain. So, you’ll have deal with my disjointed thinking.

These are all evident. I’m going over them because sometimes you miss the obvious when you’re knackered.

Don’t eat too close to bedtime.

Don’t watch, read or listen to anything that will bring up stimulating emotions (nothing scary, disturbing, sad, triggering etc).

Avoid arguing or deep conversations right before you hit the hay.

Smoking, caffeine, some meds (check with gp/pharmacist) are no goes before you attempt sleep.

Against Accepted Wisdoms

Sleeping cat

I’ve consulted many Drs, Psych’s and other practitioners over the years and some of the oft repeated advice they’ve given me has turned out to be just plain wrong for me. If you find something that really does or doesn’t help, even if everyone is telling you the opposite, do you. For me this includes:

Looking at my phone in bed. Putting it on night shift mode to alter the light tone to yellowish rather than blue is a must. Otherwise I find aimlessly scrolling can be very helpful in getting me sleepy.

Reading in bed also works for me. I can’t fall asleep without reading. I find that if I just keep going until I literally can’t keep my eyes open, I have a good chance of getting into a proper sleep. I think it’s because my mind is occupied with the content of the book rather than whatever mess is in my head. Clearly, it’s important to choose the reading material with reference to my previous points.

Sharing the bed with pets. So many people have cautioned me against this. I find my petting my cat and hearing his purrs excessively relaxing. Thus, I ignore such warnings.

Hippie Dippie

Constellation lamp

I hate to be that person, but occasionally the esoteric route gets you there.

A constellation lamp in a dark room can offer something uncomplicated to focus your attention on long enough to get to sleep.

Gentle yoga – clears the mind & stretches everything in a pleasing manner.

Desperate Measures

When you’ve been attempting shut eye for hours and are reaching the point of hopelessness; get up. By that point you aren’t going to sleep. Every toss & turn just raises anxiety levels. I find it much more productive to get out of bed and stop forcing it. Do whatever you can manage and if you get drowsy try again.

Medication – You need sleep to operate. There comes a point when discussing medication options with your Gp is the sensible thing to do. I have tried several sleeping pills over the years. Most didn’t work for me. Most are not a suitable for prolonged use due to addictive and/or tolerance building properties. There are some drugs that can be used for longer periods. I have been prescribed one such medication. It doesn’t have a 100% strike rate, but when it does work it knocks me out all night.

Sleep when you can in extreme cases. Often napping is counterproductive when fighting insomnia. However, when you haven’t had more than a couple of consecutive hours sleep in weeks that goes out the window. When my sleeplessness is at its worst, I will get so completely exhausted that my body will crash. That doesn’t always happen at bed time. Take that sleep. You need it. Sleep all day if you must.

Last but Not Least

Oxytocin

Sex and orgasms in general are brilliant for sleep. Sex works on so many fronts. You can tire yourself out, all those feel good hormones chill you out and of course it’s the perfect distraction from any negative bullshit you have going on. Flying solo releases all that lovely oxytocin and melatonin too, so don’t be shy about giving it a try.

Make it easy on yourself…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 6 Comments

2019 has barely gotten going & it’s been rough already. In a matter of weeks I have lost my baby & my boyfriend, which is less than an auspicious beginning. If I sound flippant, I’m not, I’m just trying very hard to put one foot in front of the other.

The demise of my pregnancy is devastating. My relationship’s end is sad, but the right decision and that’s about all I have to say on the topic. I find myself approaching the year (and my life) alone again. Being single hasn’t ever worried me all that much. I’m definitely not scared to be that kind of alone. Childlessness on the other hand, terrifies me. What do you when you’re facing your biggest fear? I haven’t a fucking a clue.

#projectpostit

For the time being I have taken the clichéd approach of one day at a time. I’m trying not to spend every day at home in my jammies (there is however a lot of crying on the sofa). Functioning is a struggle for a multitude of reasons. Primarily, I am exhausted. I’m always tired. Add even less sleep, the effort it takes to contain my anger at life itself, the fact that I will not stop bleeding, so despite the blood transfusion my haemoglobin level continues to flag and you get extreme fatigue. Having a different emotion every 5 seconds is tiring. Battling (& often failing) to contain the tears is wearing. Breathing & washing & conversing & not screaming is all taking gargantuan effort. The truth is I’m not managing very much. I’m practising being ok with that.

Blood transfusion, Rose wine, snuggling cat, reading baby

I recommend spending time with people who don’t expect too much of you. I’m giving priority to anything that give me comfort; my little people & potatoes pretty much have that covered. Hot baths have featured heavily as has ‘fake it ’til you make it’ make up. There was one afternoon of day drinking with a lovely friend that actually helped a lot, but not something it would be wise to make a habit of. My purring cat is a godsend. I’m reading, sleeping whenever I can and endeavouring to be gentle with myself.

ly h Kerr

I have no clue how to tackle the overwhelming sense of guilt. Chipping away at how ‘not fair’ this is may well take the rest of my life. I’m focusing on the small stuff. Giving myself a pass on the growing mountain of washing, the ideas that go unpitched and being awfully rude to the person who called about my non-existent road traffic accident. I find it harder than you’d imagine to let that stuff go. Being hard on myself comes easy. i have learned that when life gets you on the ground it’s worth tackling the instinct to kick oneself whilst already down.

Sunset

If you like what I do you can support me here or on Patreon.

The dog days are done…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 1 Comment

It’s been a rough couple of weeks. Extra illness, extra stress & very little sleep have taken a toll. My mood has taken a nose dive. I’m battling a fairly substantial wave of anxiety & the urge to just hole up at home.

I am fighting, though. One of the things keeping me going is how far I’ve come. These lows will probably always hit, but it helps to know things are not as bad as they once were. On days like this reading my own dark words shine a tiny light through today’s depressive fog.

The blood jet is poetry, ly h Kerr

I’m hoping some sleep & resolving some of the stress inducers will alleviate this bout of blue. In the mean time I’ll be digging deep in my chest of resources to keep myself focused on the light.

Bronan Kerr

Rest assured this boy is always looking after me.

This week I have been mostly…

~ somethinginthewayshemoves ~ 2 Comments

Trying (& failing) to get some sleep. I’m really fecking tired. Once I’ve done all the yoga, watched all the relaxing tv, had baths with bombs, face masked myself into oblivion, finished the housework & whatever book I’m reading & sprayed every calming scent known to man there is just one thing left to do. Lie still in a dark room & turn up the music.

I require only a couple of things from my insomnia tunes; they must be deep enough to flood the room & gentle enough to let me float away. Wonderful by Lianne La Havas complies. Her thick sweet voice coats me in wistfulness. I feel this song’s warmth in my chest. Its steady pace a comforting secondary pulse. The lyrics tempting & bittersweet. This is perfect middle of the night music.

Every now & then I stumble across music from my past and it opens a door to another time. David Gray’s White Ladder is just a such a time capsule. The intro of Please Forgive Me was enough to shoot me back to the year 2000. Despite that being a fairly mixed year for me this song holds only uncomplicated feels. It has connected itself to chilled after parties; the smell of dope & DKNY. To falling asleep in beds shared with a bunch of friends & waking up to 5 girls talking at once. It feels less like lightening & more like friendship running through my veins. I know it’s a love song, but for me it’s an ode to student flats & almost adulthood.

A Star is Born almost killed me. Seriously, I weeped myself raw, but Shallow saved me. Man, it is hard keeping it hardcore. I’m so relieved to have found softer ways. This is one of those songs that rouses every bloody emotion. I seems like I’ve been far from the shallows for a very long time. It feels good to sing it out loud.

Which brings me to my brand new discovery, Yoko Pwno. I heard them play at the last Yellow Sunday & was utterly captivated. A unique & totally bewitching band; they are comprised of violins, drums & techno synth type sounds. They’re hard to quantity, but oh so easy to fall in love with. Currently blasting in my late late playlist is It could always be worse. Mainly because when played at volume it washes over me & allows my mind to drift. Also, though, because that title’s a good reminder not to despair when I find myself still awake a 5am. It can always be worse, but it’s likely to feel better if you stick Yoko Pwno on.