Life is a cause for disillusionment at the moment. I was going to write a post about all the disillusioned things when I realised I had a draft post waiting in the wings from a few weeks ago. So here it is...
The weather has been dreary drizzle where I live. It's also the final stretch of school holidays, so I am a slightly bit battle fatigued from all the children being home. Yesterday I went for a walk in the rain to get milk. I needed the walk and milk was in short supply in the fridge. We run out of milk and bread at a rapid pace when everyone is home. Walking always gives me breathing and thinking space. It also gives me opportunities to take photos which I put on Instagram, my visual gratitude diary. Or "life isn't so bad if you can find beauty in mundane things" diary. While walking in the drizzle, I was reminded of when I was a kid and use to stand outside the front of my childhood home when it was raining. Not pouring rain, but the dreary, cold drizzle. It was a moment of nostalgia thinking of a simpler time of my life. Standing in the rain as a child, draped in a flannel blanket, occasionally twirling and imagining I was in another world. Maybe I was a princess or a queen. Reflecting on it now as an adult, I think I was trying to channel some sort of mystical priestess. A damp flannel blanket clad wizard. Something like that. It felt like magic. It's a fond memory. While I remember the rain, the sensation of the damp flannel blanket on my skin, misty drizzle on my face, the sun attempting in vain to peek out from the dark clouds...I also remember the feeling of being alone, by myself, independent. But not lonely. Yet there was also a distant feeling of being observed. By my parents, perhaps worried about me behaving a bit oddly. My siblings making fun of me. Neighbours curious about a young girl dancing in the rain draped in a blanket on the side of the road. None of those things happened, as far as I am aware, but it's not unlikely that it may have been the case. But I didn't care. I was living in the moment, living my daydream. It certainly wasn't something I was consciously aware of, "living in the moment", but there was a carefreeness to it that I don't experience much of nowadays. That carefree flow is something that I have been seeking out during my recovery from acute mental illness. It still eludes me, well the regularity of such experiences anyway. I'm ever hopeful. Sometimes cynical. Probably a lot cynical. Cynicism, self deprecation, self sabotage. All realms my mind hangs out in constantly. It's familiar. Just because something is familiar doesn't mean it's good for you.
I'm not entirely sure where I was going with the previous ramble, likely leading into this current ramble. This whole blog is one ongoing ramble not sure of itself. Currently my family is in lockdown. Children are learning from home and all therapy appointments have migrated to Zoom. Which is just a lesson in frustration. Unmute audio. Mute audio. Allow video. Therapist can't hear. We can't hear. Bluetooth headphones. Headset. Microphone problems. Ugh! Anyway, we're sure to get the hang of it. We have to, as I don't think we will be out of lockdown soon. Almost three weeks. If it goes another three weeks, we will be seamlessly finding ourselves in the school holidays and essentially that means eight weeks at home. It's not all bad. The children have been okay about learn from home. Our younger son got straight back into it like he never left from the first lockdown last year. The 9 year old daughter and 16 year old son on the other hand, have been a bit more challenging. But I'm proud of their efforts. Uncertainty seems to be the current circumstances for most people. 2021 has been a year of rolling with the punches. Some have almost knocked me out.
My mental health has been a bit wobbly of late. My psychiatrist prescribed another medication on account of my increased anxiety in the wake of separating from my partner of 24 years. Day one on it and I spent the day in bed horrendously sick. Nausea, vomiting, stomach pain and diarrhoea. It was awful. I decided that it wasn't worth pushing through all the horrible side effects. It also didn't fill me with confidence that it was a SNRI. From my history, I really don't do well on medication with a serotonin mechanism. I wasn't willing to throw the metaphorical spaghetti to the wall and see if it would stick. My anxiety isn't dreadful. More frequent and more intense than my usual baseline, but I can manage with my current toolbox of meds. Valium. I can manage with valium. And my mood stabiliser, hiding out in bed, laying on the grass in my backyard sky and tree watching.
Life has me feeling like I am a feather in the breeze at the moment. I don't know where I will end up. Who knows? It could be amazing. I can be disillusioned and hopeful right? In the meantime I'll be a flannel blanket clad wizard, standing in the rain. Magic happens eventually.
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