Christmas period nearly over..

 

Well, nothing like a semi-nervous breakdown to brighten up the Christmas table, eh? 

I feel sorry for my poor Auntie too, with whom we were all due to have Xmas festivities with.

Until her water froze in the pipes. 

On Christmas Day. 

With no prior warning.

So, all her food preparation, tables festooned with seasonal candles etc, was brought to a shuddering halt.  No hot water.  No cold water.

A quick rearranged venue, a LOT of hauling food, chairs, and water up and back to my Auntie’s (water so they could shower, toilet..).

I didn’t stay with them all for long in my Uncle’s house – Ad Hoc Christmas Dinner House – as previously mentioned.  But I’m told the food was up to my Auntie’s usual sumptuous standard.  If I hadn’t been tired and nauseous and mentally fucked, I’d probably have gained three pounds in weight.

I was also informed that my Auntie was rather ‘merry’ by dessert time and insisted on karaoke and bingo at the table.  She has a lovely husband so I’m sure she had help with the emergency Christmas dinner transfer, but two young children as well, it can’t have been easy.

Christmas toast.

 

And the rains have come,

And they wash the snow,

start to wash Christmas away.

Hi.  Having a bit of a depressive bout at the moment, particularly over Christmas. 

My eyes feel half open, only willing to let half the outside in.

I feel the weight on my brain, the dull pull downwards.

I am dealing with it by going through the motions when I can.   I went out for food and a film on Xmas Eve. 

Xmas Day I went to the family gathering as usual but I knew I couldn’t eat – I think it was the fatigue from the evening before.  I tried to drink a glass of wine but knew I wasn’t going to buck up when it took me further behind the glass wall.  So I unceremoniously bolted.  I left quietly with my Mum when she was coming back to pick my Dad up.  Xmas Day I ate toast.  Christmas toast for Christmas dinner.  I threw up shortly after – sometimes my CFS makes it really hard to digest food when I’m tired.  Fat chance I’d have had with a big turkey dinner.

On the day I didn’t feel down because I was having these genuine physical symptoms, though I was asked if I felt awful having Christmas Day alone.  I just wanted to be in bed.

Anyway, once the physical symptoms passed I did, once again, recognize the depression.  I am getting dressed, washing and, today, have been out to post something I sold on the internet.

Christmas is hard because usual activities stop.  With snow there is added stoppage time.  Throw in forced celebrations, relatives and lack of daylight and you have a potent Depressive Cocktail.

I am holding on for January.  I will be able to go to group, take up therapeutic day courses, and hopefully be more active.  I’m getting a few panic attacks, sometimes worrying I’m falling into something deep and engulfing.  I have had enough of these episodes to know I need to engage the rationalizing taught in all those books and therapy sessions of old. 

Time to hold out for better days.

WOMAN WITH MAN FLU. STOP THE PRESS!!

 

I haven’t had a ‘proper’ cold for ages.  It’s annoying, but also novel in a way.  My head feels like someone has blown it up two sizes.  I can breathe but only through one nostril, the right side, for no apparent reason.  I feel like the captain of a two-engined aeroplane who’s announced one of the engines has failed and the left side might go at any minute so, you know, you’d better say your goodbyes, make peace with your maker and down the rest of that heretofore leisurely gin and tonic.

I’m deaf too.  I have full blown man flu.

Gloomy

 

I feel like shit.  I feel upset.  I feel panicky.  I feel a knot in my stomach.  I have overwhelming feelings of ineptitude, guilt, hopelessness.  I’m writing this to try to calm myself, not for any other reason.  I’m not going to go to the doctor because these extreme mood states burn themselves out for me.  I can’t have this shit eating away at my insides though.  I feel like crying or screaming but I can’t cry very easily and certainly not on cue.  The screaming would alert the household – parents would probably think I was being attacked and neighbours would think God-knows-what.

I blame the season.  I really can’t stand this bloody darkness.  I feel so anti-social.  I’m trying to do the ‘right’ things i.e. keep a routine, try to get outside for some of the daylight hours, eat decently etc.  But socialising is beyond me.  I’ve cancelled or turned down several social invites lately because I either feel too depressed to socialize or want to be under my duvet.

At the weekend a friend was having people round to watch X-Factor, drink and eat etc.  I said I  might go.  I want to feel better.  I decided to get myself ready, have a glass of wine, try to get in the spirit.  This was more of a friend of a friend thing so it didn’t matter if I decided last minute.  Anyway, the wine made me sleepy, depressed and forlorn.  I was testing the water (wine) by drinking a small glass because these people always drink a lot and so I usually follow suit (I’m not one of those people who doesn’t mind not drinking when everyone around them is getting pissed).

I’d poured a second glass of wine before I decided not to go.  I realised I do feel depressed.  No running away from it.  The small glass of wine had potentiated the depressed mood.  I realised that I couldn’t drink.  Not even in the house.  Not that night.  I found a red plastic funnel and poured the second untouched glass of wine back into the bottle.  I found that act darkly comic a few days later when I was in a slightly better mood.  The wine is still in the fridge.  I am weird with alcohol.  If I’m feeling good I can enjoy drinking.  If I’m feeling a bit pissed off I can get something out of it too.  But if my mood is truly depressed it does absolutely nothing for me and makes me feel bleak as hell.  I find that interesting only because a lot of people seem to be able to get a good effect from booze when they’re low.  I suppose that’s just different brain chemistries – as they say, everyone has their poison.

Add-on: Where the fuck has Lola gone?…was my first thought on clicking her blog link.  I then thought how long it must have been since I last clicked-on.  I used to read her and other blogger’s stuff quite regularly and then stopped when I didn’t feel upto it.  Kind of gutted.  Great writing.  Suppose I should update my antiquated blogroll then..