Dear Uterus

It’s been six months since you left me. Or I left you. Either way, you went up in flames in a medical incinerator, for which I’m glad. You were the bane of my life for around thirty years and I fought so hard to have you severed from my body.

So how am I doing? Pretty damn good actually. Although, all the self-care I spent revving up to get rid of you; was undone by a bereavement wobble, meaning the sober start to the year went out the window. And all the carbs I’d also cut carefully out my life, sped back in again.

Here I sit, probably the heaviest I’ve ever been, but for the first time in a month – thank you flu. I’m fizzing with energy, which was what I was like immediately after surgery.

Tomorrow, after a nachos meal with the boys tonight, I’m off carbs. And the booze. Again. Part self-medication and part self-medication – I need to work out what I’m avoiding dealing with. I had a couple of nights on my own last week, and funked sitting there in silence to let it bubble up.

I am fed up of hiding.

Six months out, three and a half since Erika died, she visited me this week; shook me up and out of myself. It’s time I put me number one again. Maybe over the coming eight weeks, I’ll understand why I go so far, then self-sabotage. Wonder why I feel I’m not worthy of looking after myself consistently.

It’s a recognised part of depression, not taking care of yourself. But after my epiphany when I was barfing the other week and I realised that actually, I didn’t want to die. Despite another part of my brain telling me that it would be easy to fall down the stairs with vertigo, it’ll be an ‘accident’.

Here we are uterus, a line in the sand. Nachos and red wine blow out. I’m officially fully recovered from my surgery where you were dragged out my body. Aside from the odd leak when I sneeze, because to be fair you were a lot bigger than you had any right to be *cork popping* I’ve had no other issues.

There are three months left of this decade. I’m going to use them to my advantage, and hope that the orange cheeze-weasel doesn’t blow us all up in the interim…

Stream of consciousness. Typos are mine….

Ten on Tuesday – Less is More edition

Carole has asked us for five things we want to do less of and five things we want to do more of in 2016.

1. I want to spend less time worrying about what strangers think of me; I want to spend more time with my family and friends, paying them compliments and thanking them for being in my life.

2. I want to spend less time worrying about what might happen; I will spend more time on making what I want to happen get here.

3. I want to spend less time on my phone and spend that same time otherwise frittered away wisely – with people I love, exercising, studying or reading.

4. I want to spend less on coffees and see how much more money I have in my account at the end of the year. Every time I don’t buy a coffee, I’m moving the money to savings account. (This may flow through to eating out generally, not that I do a lot, but I’d rather have a walk with friends and take a picnic or snack with me).

5. I want to spend less time fretting about not finding a pair of jeans that fit me and more time worrying about where the cheap jeans are coming from.

Picture credit

It’s a start

I ran at lunchtime today. For the first time since I damaged my knee at the beginning of November. I saw my osteopath before Christmas and was given the go-ahead to exercise again. But then I had to get over my sinus infection before I could do anything at all. I wanted to get straight back into Bikram Yoga, but as they’re kindly holding over my monthly pass, it doesn’t make sense to start that up until the schedule returns to normal.

Last night I packed up my gym kit, and thought about starting the C25K program all over again. Reasoning that I didn’t to go quite back to scratch I decided to just walk/run/walk/run and see how I went. I didn’t want to go too mad, so was aiming for 20 minutes and I made it.

I’m so pleased, my knee did not hurt, I felt strong, although a bit puffed out through lack of doing anything and being congested for over a month. My running buddy will be pleased too, so I’m off to look up some 10km runs through the year.

On burnout and bedrest

Warning, rambling blog alert – I’m not going to try and edit it, I’ll leave you to follow my breadcrumbed trails of thought:

Changing of seasons can only mean one thing, the usual coughs, colds and flu-y things are doing the rounds. Judging by my train journey’s to and fro the city, it’s a stinker of a cold this year. So why people feel the need to share it with everyone else I don’t bluddy know. AND if you do have to travel on public transport, take some tissues with you…!

Hubs has had the full-on snot-fest (sorry), Peanut’s nose is running like a tap, I’ve been in bed with earache, a sore throat and coughing for two days. I’d rather have the congestion if that’s ok. Ear ache is the worst pain, my left ear and side of my neck is throbbing and sore. I tried to get a doctors appointment today, they could try and squeeze me in tomorrow or Thursday. For the sake of a doctor’s certificate, to be told it’s viral, I’ll hang on to my $60 thank you very much and wear the wrath at work.

So after listening to Poirot yesterday, where somehow the settings of the audiobook went skew-iff and I ended up listening to the same chapters being read on repeat. I managed to reach a height of new laziness, insofar the phone was beside me on the bedside table and I CBA to reach for it, unlock it and sort it out, today I listened to one of The Cat Who books. I can remember the first time I found one of these books in Eastbourne library. I’ve read nearly all of them, mostly through getting them out of libraries, and have about 7 or 8 on audiobooks on itunes. When I couldn’t sleep (even worse than I can’t sleep now) I started listening to audio books, I would write the words in my head, which gave my brain something else to think about and I’d slowly drift off. With the phone tucked under my pillow, it doesn’t disturb Hubs, but means that on those nights where I’m just lying there running through lists in my head, I can switch off.

Worryingly, for some people, I also listen to them while driving. Don’t ask me how listening to something that can send me to sleep can also help me concentrate, I don’t know, but there we have it, you’ll just have to trust me. I’ve ploughed my way through most of my podcasts now too, so am rapidly running out of things to listen to on my phone. I know I’ve got lots of music on it, but I’m in a bit of a spoken word fest at the moment. I’ve got four audiobooks to listen to from the library, but haven’t had a chance to sort them out just yet.

But the reason I started this blog was this article, which I will let you read at your leisure, if you so desire on Burnout. In the article is a little 15 question test on whether you’re experiencing burnout. I got 64 out of 75, and need to do something urgently to address it. Admittedly, I back dated the survey to what I felt about a month ago, before I was offered and accepted my new job, but it’s still a worrying sign, now I’m heading out the other side, I can share with you how rough it’s been. The article highlights five areas of concern:

  1. Inability to concentrate – my levels of faffing have reached epic proportions. I have to physically force myself to accomplish anything, including doing the washing, drying, folding and ironing. Something I usually love doing as it calms me down, by being so methodical.
  2. Guilt – so when I don’t do the washing etc. I feel awful. Peanut has gone into nursery in some really odd outfits, sometimes I’ve even had to reach into the charity bag for clothes too small for him, as he had nothing else clean to wear. I have also felt guilty for not doing something, trying to do too much, not going shopping, then going shopping. I felt like I couldn’t win.
  3. Frequent mood changes – I don’t know how many times I’ve dissolved into tears in the past six weeks. Or laughed hysterically at nothing, nothing remotely funny, like when I was weeping over Awkward Family Photos. I hate websites like that, yet have found myself reading them over and over, because that was all I could cope with.
  4. Social isolation – I’ve not wanted to see anyone, not wanted to talk to anyone, not wanted to blog, not wanted to share, but have been brain-dumping the stupidest things onto Facebook and Twitter. If you’re following me, I’m sorry for cluttering up your feeds.
  5. Increased drinking – I’m not guilty of this one, alcohol and my body are not mixing at the moment (no pun intended) after one or two small drinks, the hangovers I’ve been getting have been horrendous.

I’ve had a stack of books that my cousin lent me in the cupboard, but so far have only read one of them. I’ve retreated into Mapp & Lucia, Jeeves & Wooster and lost myself in the 1930s mix of social foibles and etiquette. My public face has been very, very different from my private one.

Another staff member handed their resignation in today. I walk round the office and say hello to people in the mornings, I can see so many people struggling, again I feel guilty for leaving them to it. But there comes a time when you need to look after yourself first, to make yourself the priority on your to-do list. I’ve a week off between jobs. I’m looking forward to clearing some stuff, I’m going to buy a new notebook, a new pen, find somewhere to sit and just write. Completely brain dump all the baggage I’ve been hanging on to, and then rip up the notebook and throw it away.