Taa-Daa: A Fabric Book for a Special Little Boy

If you've been following my blog for a little while, you know that recently one of my friends, Lee-ann, lost her two year old son. It was terribly shocking news and, unsurprisingly, it has knocked everyone sideways, even those who did not know the family terribly well. There's just something so frighteningly unnatural in losing your child that way. It was an unexpected death, he hadn't been ill, and his family still don't have any real answers to the cause of his death.

When a child dies like this, it makes everything else fall into perspective. It has made me realise just how utterly fundamentally life-affirmingly important my own children are to me, even when they are being little sods (which happens quite a lot ;o). I have never made any secret of finding motherhood extremely demanding - but maybe I do whinge too much. Really, I have the most important things in life right here before me, don't I? Says I, currently irritated so much that my teeth itch, by silly questions, mardy teenagers, too-loud television, homework not done, meals and snacks that are constantly whined for, siblings fighting, constant attention seeking behaviour etc etc etc. But even so, these are the days that I will look back on when I am old and grey and, as much as I moan, I cannot imagine for a single moment how awful it would be if one of them were taken away. 

After any death, I think it's natural to feel completely impotent. If I could have done anything, no matter how big, to change William's death or take away his family's pain then I would have done it. As it stands, there's very little one can do, is there? Other than contemplate life, and feel one's own pain and imagine the horror that the immediate family are feeling.

Right from the start, Sophia, William's big sister, said that the family should have a party to remember William. And so Lee-ann and Mark began planning a celebration of William's life, rather than a funeral. In a very touching tribute they requested that all adults and children that could not attend the funeral jump on their beds at 2pm. A lot of people joined in, and a lot of fun was had in William's name.

Lee-ann mentioned to me that she wanted a Guest Book in which funeral guests recalled their memories of William. Immediately I saw a way in which I could help in some small way, so I offered to make one. Amongst William's favourite things were: the colour orange; 2 pence pieces, especially when whizzed down those swirly charity boxes; daisies; jumping in puddles; bubbles and dandelion clocks. I wanted to include as many of these items as I could.

Here is my tribute to sweet William:

 

 

It was emotionally tough to make, but not nearly as emotionally tough as it was for it's recipients, I'm sure. It was important to me to make it well and to get it right too. I nearly had a complete meltdown when my husband, without really looking, said that the back cover looked like a happy boy on a cloud! Yikes, how inappropriate would that be?! Thankfully, after looking carefully he agreed it did not, and friends back this up and so it was sent off (with me having palpitations until it was received and approved of!)

Technically, I really enjoyed the mix of sewing, applique and both hand and machine embroidery. I was very unsure how to tackle the bubbles, but machine sewing circles onto bits of voile worked really well as it made them stand proud, as well as being transparent. If I could go back and change anything, I would make the fabric onto which I embroidered the dandelion clocks less patterned as I think it's hard to see them. Also, I made the picture on the back a little too wide, so a sliver of the umbrella slides off the edge. This was me getting carried away with making the picture on a deliberately cut-too-big piece of fabric; I wasn't careful enough at measuring the size of the finished book.

Anyway, you live and learn, and this was one of those projects that meant a lot to me. On reflection, I am pleased with what I created and I learned some important lessons that will help me to progress further with future projects. 

I'm also incredibly grateful to Lee-ann for letting me share something so private. Sleep tight, William. My memory of you will always be how much you made your Mummy smile x

Are You Promiscuous With Your Failures?

As I am sure I have mentioned before, I am an aficionado of audiobooks, especially when I am crafting. I LOVE reading, but have found that the time I can make available for it seems to diminish year on year. I think this is largely to do with my family commitments and I hope to be able to return to reading properly as my children grow and need me less (a thought in itself that makes me sad, in one of the spirals of my life). However, in the mean time, audio books keep my mind sharp, provide an escape and make me reflect on my life.

One of my favourite book genres is the self help book. Yes, I KNOW they're sometimes cheesy and they get a bad press. However, I think that the concept of self reflection and re-evaluation of the world is a helpful one. I'm yet to read a permanently life changing self help book, but I think the combined wisdom of them does help me to live a braver life, both personally and professionally.

I'll be perfectly honest: as you may know I have the 'accolade' of owning a failed business. A few years ago I did not think this could be possible. I believed that I would succeed every time. I believed I could and would work, work, work to make anything successful if I wanted it enough. This has been one of the big lessons I have struggled with in recent months. The world does not revolve around me.

For a long time I felt personally responsible for the collapse of Generation Publishing. I wondered what I could have done differently and how I could have tried harder. The thing was, there weren't enough hours in the day to work harder. Although I didn't realise it at the time, I had surrounded myself with the wrong people. There were things happening (like changes in the global economy) that I couldn't control.

At the time, I went to some CBT sessions and was made to draw a pie diagram of the reasons my business failed. I saw, very visually, that I could control a very small part of that pie. I could see that I wasn't responsible for the whole thing. However, it has taken many, many more months for my emotions to catch up to my awareness. I'm just now starting to feel as though I did as much as could be realistically expected of me.

Failing is horrible. It is humiliating and it is frightening. We live in a world where failures are not tolerated. A large proportion of our television schedules is filled with programmes where we are invited to critique and criticise others on their many and varied attempts to do something. It feels satisfying to pass comment, to pat oneself on the back and feel as though one would not have been so silly as to do THAT.

The thing is that, because one is afraid of failure, it becomes much easier not to try. Its easier to take the easy option and do what you are told and not to take risks. The thing is that life is much less satisfying that way. Unless we innovate, and unless we try then we stagnate. And we cannot try unless we risk failure.

This afternoon I've decamped to the dining room sofa with my knitting needles and my iPhone. I've been determined to finish the long started silk scarf for an elderly relative who is going blind. I also chose to listen to "Poke The Box" by Seth Godin. 

Godin argues that the most important characteristic we can have personally, and the most important thing we can have for our economy in general, is the desire to innovate. To generate forward momentum. To risk things. To have a go. To come up with new ideas. To risk failure. Although it may sound glib, he was the one who asked 'are you promiscuous with your failures?' Arguing that if you don't innovate then not only are you letting yourself down, because you're not using all your talents and being all that you can be, but you are also letting everyone else down too. He likens not innovating within your company to stealing a laptop and flogging it on Ebay. It's stealing. Who knows what joy, what opportunity for others may come from your idea or your work? Is it right to deny other people because you aren't brave enough to try?

With trying comes failure. By failing, you are doing something that most other people are afraid of - you're edgy. Your projects may be fail-fail-succeed-fail-fail-fail-succeed-succeed-fail, but who cares? No-one will remember the things that you tried that did not work, as long as you gave them the best chance you could to succeed. The important thing is starting.

Within his work he gave an anecdote that rings bells to me. I believe he called it the dandelion theory:

We are mammals. Our children take a great deal of investment of energy. Therefore much of our time is devoted to preventing them from taking too many risks, because this would be a waste of our energy. We are raised to avoid risk, and we instinctively raise our children the same way too.

Compare this to a dandelion. A dandelion produces thousands of seeds a year. If you look at it from the point of view of the actual seed, most will land on concrete and other places where they cannot germinate. Most of the dandelion's energy seems to be "wasted." However, come spring, all the pavement cracks are filled with dandelions. And that's the point. You won't know which of your ideas will be successful and which won't - the important thing is to start something. If you're too afraid to fail then you will never succeed. You obviously have to work hard, and finishing things is equally important, but it's the starting that takes the bravery. From each failure one learns something new. It's this new knowledge that makes us remarkable.

 

My Great Aunt will hopefully feel her scarf and be pleased with the sensations it arises in her, but she will never know that it was an opportunity for it's maker to reflect and to learn something, and to help to heal an awkward, sore bit of her psyche. Here is the picture of the now renamed Dandelion Scarf:

 

I shall spend this week making like a dandelion. Thanks, Seth!

Lots of love

Claire x

 

 

 

Part One: The Journey and Taa-Daa: Carrot Bag

A couple of weeks ago, on the 15th March (which incidentally was my birthday), I had a work meeting in Essex. Given that I live near Hull this was a pretty long way to travel for a one hour meeting, especially for someone whose independence can be hindered by ME. That said, I was determined to make the effort, and I was determined to do it without crutches. All nine trains of it and 14 hours of it.

As the day approached I was filled with nervous excitement - the meeting was very exciting - but the journey also phased me. I realised, stood at Hull Paragon station with newly crocheted bag in one hand and a coffee in the other, that I hadn't actually left the house without a chaperone in two years. TWO YEARS. I felt wonderfully, wonderfully free. And a bit anxious. And I wondered exactly what had happened to me that I had gone from independent professional, to nervous recluse. The reality smacked me hard between the eyes: I have effectively lost two years of my life. How on earth can I make that up?

A few things really appealed about taking the trip. Firstly was the challenge of it. Secondly, all that peace and quiet and time to myself - bliss. And thirdly? Time to read, and to knit. It's not like I don't have a lot of time for reading and knitting but, to be fair, I thought it was a good sign to still be excited about my work thing enough to want to do it as a hobby thing too.

The night before the trip, having made myself a bag and a necklace (because I wanted to stand out, in a good way), I scrabbled through my stash trying to think of a new project to knit. I wanted something personal - for me. For so long everything I knit has been determined by my customers. I really enjoy this, but also once in a while it's nice to have complete creative control. I checked out my Ravelry list and eventually found a fabulous tank top that I could make for Charlie. It should look like this (and please excuse the rubbish picture):

What drew me to this tank top was the colour, and the quirky retro feel of the robot. I knew it was something Charlie would love. I'm also creatively very interested in clothes that allow children to role play but are proper clothes rather than dress up, and this fits the bill nicely. I could just imagine Charlie running around pretending that he is Robbie The Robot, as depicted on his jumper.

What I am going to tell you now will be of no surprise: I did not knit a stitch on that train journey. I only just managed a couple of chapters too. It all went swimmingly well - the meeting and the journey, and I spent most of my time gazing out of the window at the wonderful English countryside - lamb spotting, I'll admit it, or people watching. Both were very entertaining too.I listened to paper merchants and people talking hurridly in foreign languages on their phones. I watched a young man leave his iPhone and wallet open and unattended on his seat, so he could chat up the pretty girl a few seats down (Christ, I sound like my mother). I saw two rows of cheery toddlers in triple buggies watching the trains and hoping that someone would wave at them. It was brilliant. SO worth it. I absolutely recommend a trip somewhere new on the train, even if it's just to blow the cobwebs away.

But the knitting reclined languorously at the bottom of that newly crocheted bag, gathering bits.

I will come back to that robot tank top as, unfortunately, it's been somewhat challenging. However, I have also learned a lot about technique and tried out lots of new things, but they're unrelated to The Trip, really.I shall tell you about them tomorrow. However, in the spirit of The Trip, what is more relevant is this:

Taa - Daa! The Carrot Bag

The carrot bag was conceived in front of CSI. I LOVE crocheting these bags - (UK) DC round and round for the base until it seems large enough, then TC up and up until the bag is deep enough. I ran out of cream yarn before the end of the project, so used increasingly lighter cream tones until it faded to white. This worked amazingly well. I fancied a new edging as I often use shell edging on my bags and, after a quick mooch about, found this curlicue edging. I decided on green simply because I wanted it to co-ordinate with the bottom of the bag. It was only after I started that I realised it reminded me of pea shoots. Which is where the idea for the carrots came from....

The fabric inside is, actually, a bag in itself. As such this bag took quite a long time to make. For Christmas I was lucky enough to receive a copy of Lisa Lam's book The Bag Making Bible:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bag-Making-Bible-Complete-Customizing/dp/071533624X/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1301318481&sr=8-1

I LOVE this book, it is one of the best self-help books I own. I constantly pick it up when I am making bags because the techniques are second to none. The projects are great too, but I don't always want to make someone else's ideas up. I love the fact the techniques are including separately from the projects, but the projects link to the technique being taught. Does that make sense? It makes it easier to use the book as a tool to help you make your own things.

Anyway, inspired by Lisa Lam, I made a lined bag with inner zip pockets for my phone and purse. It was perfectly big enough for the things I wanted to carry (magazines and book) but not so deep I lose my knitting. It's an absolute bloody revelation to be able to make a bag that suits your needs perfectly. If you're any good at sewing, then I urge you to try it. You will feel like the cleverest thing in the world.

The carrot bag was satisfying to make and certainly eye catching. It's very practical too and I can see me using it a lot. Many people commented on it, even strangers. Some clearly did not like it much, but boo ya sucks to them. The only thing I'd change if I repeated the project would be to use a better quality yarn for the carrots. I only had mega cheap acrylic in my stash in orange, and I think it shows. I am tempted to buy some orange cotton - possibly Debbie Bliss's Eco Baby in DK - and see whether I can do a better job of it.

Anyway - love to you all, and back with the knitting techniques post very soon

Claire x

Taa-Daa - Homes

Well, here it is, my first set of pictures for children's rooms!

I've been thinking about redecorating Charlie's bedroom for some time, but I wanted to get it right so I haven't rushed into anything. He's a bit of a girly boy at the moment (well, I say at the moment, but this phase has lasted several years so far...) and I keep expecting it to fade into a riot of Doctor Who and Transformers and the like. I'm not sure whether to decorate now, whilst I still have the chance to buy something I adore, or to wait and not risk him insisting that his room is too babyish / girly.

Anyway, all this dithering has made me think about having semi-permanent features in children's rooms, be they bedrooms or playrooms. This is where the idea for the pictures came from.

Although they are framed, the pictures have no glass so that they can safely be touched. As well as using a bright colour palette, I wanted to use a mixture of textures so that they are interesting and inviting to touch. The gnome's hat has a bell, to add a multi sensory element. This is something that I'm keen to develop in future projects.

This first series is called 'Homes.' The idea originated from pondering on what makes children feel safe and secure. Home gives a sense of permanence and comfort, which seemed appropriate. Alongside the word 'Home' is the home of a gnome (how does he fit through the door of the magic mushroom?) and a bluebird. As well as being pretty I hope it will serve as an opportunity to open up discussion about the child's home, as well as the different homes of others. I also hope it will be the inspiration for much impromptu story telling and imaginary play.

So here they are:

 

Wow, that got a bit serious, didn't it?

I think it's important to convey some of the thought processes behind the products; I hope I don't sound too grand. I do think about these things and try to respond in a thoughtful way, that's one of the elements of crafting I enjoy the most.

Speaking of Charlie's room, there was much excitement over the weekend. The new big bed arrived!

 

<a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/claireboynton/5404358992/" title="The boy who wanted a princess bed by Claire Boynton, on Flickr"><img src="http://farm6.static.flickr.com/5136/5404358992_93c5c6bb2b.jpg" width="375" height="500" alt="The boy who wanted a princess bed" /></a>

Until now, Charlie has still been in his cot bed. I wondered whether I should mind, especially as various relatives started to comment. However, he still fitted in comfortably and so it seemed silly to buy another bed until the first one was no longer fit for purpose. I was quite sad to pack away the cot. I doubt we'll use it again, and it's been part of our family for such a long time.

Can you see the wall behind the bed? That's the one I want to wallpaper. If you have any suggestions, please let me have them as I'm running short on inspiration. We had to move the bookcase in order to fit the big bed in, which is why there are now holes in the wall that need filling.

Charlie was quite insistent that he wanted a Princess Bed. In fact, he wanted a pink bed. Given that he's not likely to have another bed frame until he leaves home, I was a bit reluctant to say the least. In the end we compromised - a gender neutral bed with a pink pillowcase (made by moi) and a pink undersheet. His duvet is white. He insisted on the flowery blanket, but I like it too so who cares? He's happy and that's the main thing.

The opportunity to have a shuffle round in his room means we got to make this:

 

A reading corner! Woohoo! I am very, very excited about this as we are a rather bookish household. I intend to cover that chair. I also intend to make a series of textile pictures themed around reading. Oh yes, that sounds good to me!

Love

Claire x

PS. I've just found Annie The Felt Fairy's 'A Make A Month' project, which I've joined. This is my make for January. Click the icon if you want to join too, it looks fun.

Project 4 Taa-Daa: Crochet Bunting

 I love, love, love this!

It was dead quick and easy too. I made up the pattern myself!

I apologise for the fuzzyness of the photos, I could not seem to focus that day at all!

I was inspired by the Crochet and Knit Flowers book I got for Christmas.

Do you like them?

I wanted something summery to cheer up my hallway. We use the side door here, rather than the front door, and it doesn't get much sunlight.

Can you spot my naughty boy, TC? He has a thing for boxes. Dom had a box full of beekeeping equipment in the hall that was too heavy for me to move, and I couldn't get TC out of the picture.

Review: Shoot the Damn Dog by Sally Brampton

'Love' is an odd word to describe a book that is as utterly heart-wrenching as 'Shoot the Damn Dog.' Sally Brampton's experience of severe depression is raw, agonising and, in parts, pessimistic. It's not an easy read, but I did love it. Her experiences are refreshingly honest and, in the pits of depression, honesty is not only something you need, but it is something rarely given.

Since venturing on this road of Major Depressive Disorder, I have asked questions many times, and have been given vague, well intentioned answers. 'How long does a breakdown last?', 'how do I know it's actually a breakdown and not just me being a drama queen', 'is it normal to feel rage?', 'how will I know I am getting better' - and so on - none of them are met with real answers; a patronising smile and, a 'how long is a piece of string?' type answer is the best I seem to get. Sally's portrayal of her own breakdown was a reference point and that, in itself, is helpful. I am the first to admit a sample of two people is hardly conclusive proof of the norm, but to know that someone else spends whole weeks avoiding the phone, for example, or they "cannot write" (like me) is helpful.

Like 'The Bell Jar', there is no easy conclusion to the depression. I like that. It's good to know that there's no happy ever after I am passively waiting for. Ironically, Sally's path to recovery started with a failed suicide - the second failed suicide. She gave up hope that death was a solution to the pain, and that's when things started to get better. That was a lightbulb moment for me. For some reason, I assumed death came quickly, tempted by the merest hint of chancing fate - in much the same way that until I was 30 I assumed I would get pregnant the first time I had unprotected sex. Discovering one's chances of conception each month was around 25% was quite a shock. Likewise, realising death wouldn't necessarily come when I called was also a shock. And a good shock.

The vast majority of the book is about the illness rather than the solution. Some may find this disheartening. However, I felt such empathy for Sally I was quite happy to hear about her daily struggles, and especially the way she balanced her depression with her parental responsibilities. I am not sure there were any answers, but it was helpful to understand that there are others in the same situation as me.

'Shoot The Damn Dog' is pretty brutal; I would advise some introspection before you read it if you are suffering from depression. There were times when it made me feel far worse normal - but there were also things that I found deeply thought provoking. I often think about her argument that people feel depression has a "moral tone." She argues it is an illness, like all other physical illnesses. Of course we all subscribe to that, on paper at least, but it's a viewpoint I try to bear in mind when I feel guilty that things are piling up around me.

I think the thing I appreciate most of all is that Sally Brampton really helps you to understand how depression actually feels. Amongst many other things, she talks of her throat monster. I don't have that, but I do often feel as though I have been slapped around the face. I found a sense of the depressive experience that has been lacking elsewhere. I had in mind something similar when I started this blog. Sometimes you just need to 'sit next to' someone who has experienced the same as you, whether in a physical sense or metaphorical. If that's what you're looking for, then I would certainly recommend that you give 'Shoot The Damn Dog' a go.

Amazon link

Project 26: Baz's Alien Scarf

Baz is my somewhat eccentric Step Father-in-Law. He's ace; I am very fond of him. He is really into aliens and consiracy theories. Also, he's a primary school caretaker and loves anything that provides a starting point for conversation with the kids at his school. The kids there love him.

When I came across this pattern in the excellent Stitch and Bitch book, I thought of Baz straight away. I knew he'd love it, and I had a blast making it. He did, indeed, love it.

Just a normal green and black stiped scarf.... but look at it from an angle and....

... like magic the spooky alien faces appear. A sort of 'magic eye' knitting project.

Cost:

I used really cheap acrylic for this, as I knew it would need a lot of washing. 2 balls - one green one black. Total cost £4.00.

Time taken:

about 2 weeks - it was quite labour intensive.

Lessons learned:

How to follow a knitting chart, which was educational. That knit stitches are shaped like a V, and purl stitches are shaped like a U (or a noose, as described in S&B). The effect comes from knitting the pattern in purl stitches. This creates a fabric that's slightly raised in unexpected places - you can't see it from most angles, but at the right angle you can only see the raised bumps and none of the knits - hence the pattern appearing.

Satisfaction Rating:

10/10. It was challenging enough knitting to hold my interest, but easy enough to do in front of the television. It has been universally loved and admired by everyone who has seen it. It really is knitting with the wow factor.

A whole day, just to yourself

This picture is from the February 2009 Ideal Home calendar. I really liked it at the time, and spent quite some time shopping for a similar tea cup, to no avail.  I thought it was appropriate to use now, because of the metaphorical element. It sort of describes where I am on my journey right now.

Well - crash - after lots of good days, I have had a stinker. I'm trying to work out why. Maybe I am kinder to myself when Dom is on holiday? I resign myself to a 'we'll get it done' sort of mentality, rather than 'I must get this done before Dom gets home - I am lazy / selfish / uncaring / not good enough etc'. I don't know why my internal voice is so harsh, it seems so bloody obvious when you write it down. I KNOW I should ignore her, but there she is whispering in my ear all the time, and deep down, I admit, I believe her, at least on some level.  If you work out a way to shut her up, please let me know!

My current worries are:

a) That I am hideously fat

b) I am a terrible parent

c) That I was so bad at my job it was bordering on the criminal. Any thought of ever daring to think I could work again is laughable.

d) That I am actually pretending to be ill, to seek attention from others

e) That I have some sort of narcissistic personality disorder that is obvious to everyone but me.

f) That I am deeply, irritatingly, needy.

g) that if anyone tells me the above is not true, they are just being kind because they want to spare me from the truth.

I am writing them down, because they look so silly on paper. But there is a sort of interal logic to them when they are unexpressed. Like they are a truism I just accept. I think a lot of this is at the root of my problems.

That was surprisingly cathartic!

I had a read of lovely old Dr Cantopher's book again this morning, something I haven't done for a long time. He said that, at this stage, I should start tasks and not expect to finish them. He should pop round and see the hoover in the middle of the floor. He said it's better to start, do a bit, and then sit down and leave the task unfinished than it is to either not try, or to push yourself to do too much. That rang really true for me and was strangely comforting.

Despite the stinker of a day, I am still feeling positive about the 101 in 1001 challenge. I completely sorted my photo files out last night, which is fab. They were in a right mess, often duplicated, and it took me ages to find anything. I feel much better organised now they are sorted.

Today I will continue to update the blog with the 2009 projects. I will also update my calendar and have a sleep. I may finish my socks, we'll see. Workwise, I want to change the bedclothes, put on a load of washing and make dinner. Ideally I will clean the bathroom too, but we'll see.

Thank you for listening to my insane ramblings, it actually really helps. 

Speak soon bloggers

C x 

101 in 1001 Challenge

1001 in 101 : The Project

 

It's January 2010 and I am starting to feel as though I am recovering from the depression. I need something to keep me busy, and to help me keep pushing myself and putting me out of my comfort zone little by little. The 1001 in 101 project seems ideal.

The idea is to make a list of things you want to do over the next 2.75 years of your life. Each task must be achieveable and time limited. Since I have recently experienced a very driven stage of my life in which target setting was a daily task, I will prioritise goals that I believe will bring me greater life satisfaction, happiness and self awareness. These may well be trivial to others, but will hopefully help me achieve my biggest goal: to discover who I am now and what I want to do with my life.

More information about this project can be found here: http://dayzeroproject.com

Start Date: 1st January 2010

End Date: 29th September 2012

The List

Items crossed out have been achieved

Items in italics are underway

 

 

Items Relating to The List

1. To write my list of 101 things and upload to my blog. (1/1)

Challenges

2. To make 5 phone calls a month

3. To answer the door whenever it knocks.

4. To go on an aeroplane. (0/1)

5. Smile when I want to cry.

6. Clear the credit card 

7. Complete a 1,000 piece jigsaw puzzle (0/1) 

8. Ride on a rollercoaster (0/1)

 

Personal

 

 

9. To enrol on a new course. 

10. To dye my hair at least 4 different shades. (4/4)

11. To read a book every 3 months. (11/11) 

12. To wear wacky socks every day for a month. (0/30) 

13. To conceive my third child 

14. To grow my hair to my bottom. (1/1) 

15. To visit 3 stately homes. (0/3)

16. To visit at least two art galleries (0/2)

17. To visit at least one photography exhibition. (0/1)

18. To keep an art journal 

19. To crochet a handbag. (1/1)

20. To write a letter to the me that was in 2000. (0/1)

21. To write myself an letter that I will open in 2020. (0/1)

22. Make a will  (0/1)

23. Have a massage (1/1)

24. Have a facial (1/1)

25. See five films at the cinema (3/5)

26. Buy a piece of artwork I love (0/1)

27. Buy false eyelashes and wear them on a night out (1/1)

Health

 

 

28. To go to the dentist (1/1)

29. To eat my 5 per day every day for 30 consecutive days. (0/30)

30. To permanently reduce my alcohol consumption to 10 - 15 units a week

31. Go 30 days in a row without eating takeaway. (0/30)

32. Go 30 days in a row without eating chocolate. (0/30)

33. Swim twice weekly for at least three months

 

Romance

 

34. Spend at least 10 times beekeeping with Dom. (0/10)

35. Have at least one date per month with Dom, even if it is at home. (0/33)

36. Spend six weekends away with Dom. (0/6)

37. Send my husband a love letter (0/1)

38. Kiss in the rain (0/1)

 

Family

 

39. To start an open diary to Jonathan. (0/1)

40. Take the children swimming 5 times. (5/5)

41. Go camping four times. (2/4)

42. Own a new pet. (0/1)

43. Have a picnic. (0/1)

44. Go for ten walks on the beach. (2/10)

45. Create a piece of art with the boys for the playroom. (0/1)

46. Teach Jonathan to cook five dishes (0/5)

47. Teach Charlie to read (1/1)

 

Friends

 

48. Give 5 'I saw this and thought of you' presents. (0/5)

49. Send 10 handwritten letters. (0/10)

 

Helping others / the planet

 

50. Donate something for charity each month (money, time, items) (0/33)

51. Perform five acts of random kindness (0/5)

52. Donate blood four times (0/4)

53. Plant a tree for each decade of my life (1/4)

Craft

 

54. To learn how to do interstarsia knitting and produce an item. (1/1)

55. To open an Etsy shop to sell my hand crafted items. (1/1)

56. To knit a pair of socks. (1/1)

57. To knit a handbag. (1/1)

58. Make three quilts  (2/3)

59. Knit an item using only double pointed needles (0/1)

60. Make and felt an item for the house (1/1)

61. Dye a skein of yarn (0/1) 

62. Learn how to spin yarn (0/1)

63. Make an item of clothing for myself (1/1) 

64. Make an item of clothing for Charlie (1/1)

65. Attend a craft fair both as a buyer and a seller (1/2)

66. Crochet a handbag (1/1)

 

Blogland and T'interweb

 

67. Update my inspiration album once per month. (0/33)

68. Keep a blog of your personal achievements and photography that is updated weekly. Read it and feel good about your place in the world.  (0/143)

69. Leave a comment on someone else's blog every week (0/143)

 

Home and Garden

 

70. Hatch duck or hen eggs (1/1)

71. Grow at least 10 different sorts of veg. (0/10)

72. Take a course in butchery. (0/1)

73. Slaughter and cook a hen. (0/2)

74. Have cut flowers every fortnight. (0/72)

75. Decorate play room (1/1)

76. Decorate lounge (0/1)

77. Decorate hall (0/1)

78. Finish kitchen (1/1)

79. Make blinds and curtains for dining room (0/4)

80. Landscape / move plants to front garden (1/1)

81. Make new vegetable plot (0/1)

82. Use the Lady Shed for my projects between May and September

83. Put all the family photographs up in the hall (0/1)

 

Words and Pictures

 

84. To write 10 short stories. (0/10)

85. Take a photo of all 101 things. (0/101)

86. To upload a photo every week to HPAD group on Flickr (0/143)

87. Make a photo yearbook of our family life at The Cottage for each year (0/3)

88. Make a photo collage of each month at home in The Cottage. (0/33)

89. To organise my photo files every month. (0/33)

90. Take a photo of 30 happy things. (0/30)

91. Arrange Charlie's baby photos into an album (0/1)

92. Take family photos off computer and put into albums (0/1)

 

Seize The Day!

 

93. To jump in a puddle (1/1)

 

Culinary

 

94. Cook 101 recipes from my cookery books. (0/101)

95. Bake once a fortnight.

96. Eat in a Michelin starred restaurant. (0/1)

97. Make a birthday cake for Dom, Jonny and Charlie each year. (6/9)

98. Make a Christmas cake each year. (2/3)

99. Cook a souffle (0/1)

100. Buy meat from a local butchers 20 times

101. Try sushi (0/1)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Winter is a-coming

Hello ladies and gents of Blogland. How goes it for you today? The weather has been odd here - darkness almost like night and heavy rain, then bright sunshine. And it's cold. Are you feeling the cold too?

To be honest, I had forgotton that I actually quite like this time of year. I always think of winter with dread. A couple of years ago I convinced myself that I had Seasonal Affective Disorder, but that was before I was prepared to acknowledge that it was common-and-garden depression. A lot of the blogs I read are mourning the loss of summer light and colour - I love that too, but I also like these dark days more than I remember I do.

This evening it's dark and cold outside. Charlie is tucked up all snug in bed. Dom is working in the kitchen. Jonny is watching a film, and I am on here talking to you. The house smells of a winter fragraced candle and the lights are dimmed. We are eating pumpkin soup and freshly made bread. The whole place looks and feels cosy. I am happy to wear socks, drink hot drinks, wrap up in blankets and light the fire. My only sadness is that we can't have a real fire in our sitting room as we have no chimney. There is one in the playroom, but that's not as comfortable and cosy.

I've got  a stinking cold though - how are you getting on with the winter germs? My tonsil is still swollen - it's been 3 weeks now - so I made an appointment with the doctor for next week. That's right - I used the phone today, TWICE! I am very proud of myself, even if I did cringe and hide when someone knocked on the door. Baby steps count. I am happy to chalk up the progress and ignore the weak spots.

Also, I want to show off my Christmas cake that I made yesterday, infusing the house with a warm, fruity, spicey aroma. Hmmmmm.

My main priority was to make something that cost as little as possible - and I am really chuffed with this one - it was free! Technically that's not really true, as I had to buy the ingredients in my cupboards in the first place, but it was adapted to include only things I already had in stock. I even managed to get the ready made icing from our local Co-Op for 29p!

It is loosely based on Mary Berry's classic Christmas cake.

625g sultanas

half a jar of cocktail cherries, chopped, plus the liquor

200g dried apricots, snipped into pieces

50g (2oz) mixed candied peel, finely chopped

about 10 dried prunes, chopped

150ml (¼ pint) Stones Ginger wine, plus extra for feeding

2 tbsp orange juice

250g (9oz) soft margarine

250g (9oz) dark muscovado sugar

6 eggs

75g (3oz) blanched almonds, chopped

50g walnuts, chopped

225g (8oz) plain flour

1½ tsp mixed spice

1/4 teaspoon grated nutmeg

You need to begin this cake the night before you want to bake it.

1) Measure the dried fruits into a large bowl. Mix in the ginger wine, the orange juice and the cherry liquor and leave overnight.

2) Pre-heat the oven to 140 degrees centigrade, 275 F or gas mark 1. Grease and line a 20cm deep round cake tin with a double layer of greaseproof paper. I also greased a couple of muffin tin holes so I could make a couple of mini Christmas cakes, for testing (obviously very important!)

3) Measure the flour, spices, margarine, sugar, eggs, almonds and walnuts into a large bowl. Beat well with an electric whisk for 2 mins until the cake mixture is a light coffee brown colour.

4) Add the soaked fruit and fold in well until properly combined

5) Pour into baking tins. Last year I used muffin tins for mini Christmas cakes, and these worked brilliantly (although icing 12 individual cakes was a bit labourious.) Cleaned, empty baked bean tins would also work well. If you're cooking one large cake, double layer the top with greasproof paper. This isn't necessary with smaller cakes.

6) Bake in centre of preheated oven for 4 - 4.5 hours. For individual cakes start to check after approximately 90 minutes. It will feel firm to the touch when cooked, and a skewer will come out clean.

Allow to cool in the tin, then put into a cake tin. Pierce with a fine skewer and slosh on a couple of tablespoons of booze of choice weekly until Christmas.

The final result was a tangy, apricotty, nutty cake. It hasn't matured in flavour yet, so it'll be interesting to see if the spices become more developed. It isn't as dark and treacle-y as some Christmas cakes I have made, but personally, I prefer it this way.

Keep me posted on any changes you make if you attempt your own store cupboard Christmas cake. I love to hear how you're keeping the Christmas costs down.

Time for me to go now, and spend a happy half hour browsing my favourite blogs - you can see them by clicking the list in the left hand bar.

Take care of yourselves, and see you tomorrow.

Claire xx

PS Cadbury's Caramel Bites. To die for. Just try them.

Project 19: Dining Room Throw Taa-Daa!

Hello readers, how are you today? It's a lovely sunny but cool day in East Yorkshire and I can hear children playing and lawn mowers mowing in the distance. Everyone is looking forward to the first weekend after the long school holiday. It's Charlie's last ever day at nursery *sob* and I am going to be more upset than he is. The "ladies" at nursery are like extended members of our family.

Anyway, I'm in an up and down sort of mood. I've got lots of ironing done (yay!), have shined my sink and washed and dried clothes and dishes. I have finished Charlie's rainbow jacket this morning and read a book in 24 hours - On Chesil Beach by Ian McEwan. It was good - sexually charged and suffocating. It wasn't the cheeriest of reads, but worth a look if you fancy something quick. I got it for 99p from our local charity shop; I like that sort of recycling!

I got a letter from my employer this morning terminating my employment. Actually, there was no letter, just a form. I am quite hurt. I put my heart and soul into that job and it wouldn't have taken much to say "form enclosed, thanks for your hard work and commitment, we hope you're better soon." Still, lesson learned.

I am also surrounded by pregnant women and new babies at the moment and it makes me feel very complicated. I had terrible post natal depression after Charlie was born and I am convinced that I am in this situation now because I didn't seek treatment early enough then. So, in a week where my baby leaves nursery and starts school, regrets about his babyhood and the wondering whether I'll ever have another baby, whether I'll ever be able to make the hurt better and whether I even want another child are thronging my mind. Ho hum. I'm coming back as a man next time.

Anyway, let's cheer ourselves up. Fancy looking at my lovely blanket? I am very proud of this one. I love the feel of it, the colours (especially the edging), I love how much I enjoyed the project - the whole thing has been marvellous. Anyway, here you go. I present:

Project 19: The Dining Room Throw

Cost: about £100, mainly due to the Debbie Bliss Cashmerino. I eventually relented and started using leftovers from other projects and acrylics, just to keep the cost down.

Time Taken: 4 weeks

Satisfaction rating: 9/10 - an easy pattern that gave lots of opportunity for playing with colour. I joined the  squares as I went, then did the  rounds of edging before starting more smaller squares. This made the joining feel much less of a chore.

Lessons learned: sew in tails as you go!

So, do you like it as much as I do? This will always remind me of the summer of 2009, especially crocheting squares on three of the local beaches whilst Dom and the children played in the sea. It's been a difficult summer in lots of ways, but there are happy memories too. And I have a fab blanket to snuggle under when I am doing my winter knitting!

I look forward to hearing your comments. I hope to see you again soon xx

Big Changes

Hello, friend. I hope you are well and getting on OK on your journey through depression. I do think about the people who visit this blog and wonder about their stories. I hope you are doing OK today.

This morning I had another appointment with my doctor. She's very kind, and I feel certain that she understands, but I still get ridiculously nervous - silly isn't it? I have scratched the base of my left thumb until it bled, by digging my nail into the flesh there. I don't realise I am doing it, but it seems to help express the anxiety. I also often find myself gritting my teeth too. Does anyone else do this?

Anyway, having put myself through the indignity of having to explain to the doctor again how I am feeling, she has signed me off work for at least 3 weeks, and has changed my anti-depressant to escilatopram (Cipralex). I am on the maximum dose and, reading the patient information leaflet, am reassured that it's a strong anti-D that hopefully will help. However, I have to go through the 'breaking in' fortnight and that really scares me.

The Babette blanket is a helpful distraction through. I have now completed all 50 of the 4 rounds, and 35 of the two rounds, out of 49, so it's going well. I am still loving the colours and, if anything, I am getting bolder and bolder. Hell, why not?! It makes me feel a bit better and it's for the children, so who cares? I keep thinking of Kaffe Fasset saying "be a slob with colour, and find your own voice." I kind of like that. I also find great comfort in other people's blogs, especially the craft ones. It's a wonderful gift to be lost in someone else's world for a while.

I have had to make a phone call relating to work and found this to be extremely stressful. I have also sent an email to my boss to explain about my illness - again I found this very tough. The weird thing I find with depression is that I worry about doing something, hate doing it, but then find no relief in the fact it has been done. I just feel the same level of worry as before. I smiled to myself as my profile on Yahoo is 'invisible to others.' I wish I could choose that option in life too.

So, essentially, I am signed off work (big relief) and I am taking new medication that might help (which is very positive). I have to wait a couple of weeks for things to improve, but improve they will, I am sure.

I just wanted to take the chance to review to book 'Depressive Illness: The Curse of the Strong' by Dr Tim Cantopher.

I don't know Dr Cantopher personally, but this book has been a real comfort to me whilst I have been in the depths of depression, and it's never very far away. I re-read short excerpts in a regular basis. Dr Cantopher is kind, wise and sympathetic; the book is authortitative enough to not patronise, but isn't indigestable for those in the throws of a depressive episode. He feels like a sort of Depression Buddy.

Dr Cantopher takes the view that depressed people become ill because they persist in difficult situations when others don't and this leads directly to them "blowing a fuse" in the limbic system of the brain. He argues that depression is a physical illness caused by the lack of two chemicals and these control mood. People do not get clinically depressed because they are lazy or weak; quite the opposite.

I have re-read chapters 1 and 5 so many times I can almost quote them parrot fashion. I have read the rest of the book but, to be honest, most of it hasn't sunk in. I find his advice to only read a few pages at a time very comforting.

This is a fantastic book, and I would highly recommend it for anyone undergoing clinical depression, or anyone who wants to understand the illness better.

Okey dokey, I'll leave it there for today I think. Big hugs to all those who are suffering. See you soon xx

Colour Therapy

If I had a little welcome mat, I'd put it here (actually, I Googled and found a funny one that made me smile. And smiling is positively encouraged around here. In fact, I might actually buy one of these for my hall!)

Welcome back friends, I have missed you. I am touched that so many of you checked in whilst I was away in Bromsgrove - I usually convince myself that the page opening figures are actually just mine, but I didn't check in at all for the whole time away, so I am now *finally* convinced that other people are reading. I am getting quite a few people come from Google and other search engines - if you are Googling depression, then please let me send you my love and warm wishes ((hug))

It's been a really weird week, bloggers! But, before I start to talk about the depression, I want to show you what I am working on at the moment:

Aren't the colours an absolute joy?! Now for some, admittedly, they may be a little migraine inducing. However, I have so enjoyed working with colour this week. I'm crocheting the Babette Blanket, inspired by Kaffe Fassett, whom I love. Every second of creating these brightly coloured jewels has been enjoyable, even in the depths of depression. I started by doing a lot of plain black and grey squares and they didn't help my mood any. The colour, however, has worked it's magic. I wonder whether there's anything in that? I don't know much about colour therapy, I'll have to do some research.

The blanket is for the playroom. My boys both really love blankets and are as tactile as I am (as in, we enjoy the feel of things as much, if not more than, the look of them. Not that we invade your personal space, no sir. I hate that too.) The other fun thing is that, as this blanket is for the kids to play with, and will hopefully be dragged on the floor, into the garden, be played on and under, be made into a den and so on, I've not felt bad about buying cheap acrylic wool. In fact, it's perfectly sensible. Which is a let up from the cost vs provenance yarn debate that wrangles through my head most days. Please tell me I am not the only one that has this?

So, the weird week. I have felt quite unwell all week, which was strange and uncomfortable at someone else's house when all your behaviour was observed. I slept as much as possible during the day - but the beta blockers helped, as I felt tired and dizzy at first. I also had chest pains, dry eyes and headaches, although these have passed now. Nights were difficult as I didn't sleep - the first night I got up, and my Dad was most concerned at I sat on the floor and not the chair. You could see that neither of them were in their comfort zones.

Dad was lovely. He didn't say too much, but he did offer to sit with me at night if I couldn't sleep (which, although a lovely gesture, felt horribly intrusive.) He conveyed his love with the odd look or squeeze of my shoulder. He respected my space, didn't ask questions and, on the odd occasion he noticed me looking lost, he silently offered me one of his toffees. He's ace, my Dad.

Mum, on the other hand, found it much harder to deal with. She was clearly irritated at times - she rolled her eyes and chewed her finger and tutted under her breath, and made comments about women who had everyone "run around after them." She was convinced that I don't have any sort of mental illness, that it's a thyroid problem. Sadly, it isn't. Clearly, though, the belief that it was a physical illness rather than a mental one was easier for her to deal with - or, as she suggested more than once, it was just a few "down days" that everyone experiences, including her. She really found it hard to accept that I couldn't use the phone and, when I said I didn't feel up to meeting certain relatives, she was incredulous. However, to give her her credit, she didn't force me to do anything at all. She looked after Charlie, and she cooked us all meals, and generally gave everyone (especially Dominic) a break. I am very grateful to her.

I had a lot of strange feelings over the time - and felt quite seriously suicidal each day. I even worked out how I would do it. However, it still felt like a detatched part of me thinking these thoughts, so I didn't take out any action. I do wish this part of the illness would pass; I frighten myself.

I re-read an amazing book - The Bell Jar, by Sylvia Plath. I originally read this when I was 21 and at university. I related to Esther Greenwood on a very deep level and found it a powerful read. What was especially interesting was re-reading the notes I had made at 21 and realising that I had completely missed the point, in a blithe and rather arrogant fashion. I critiqued her rejection of the female roles offered to her (housewife and mother, fashionable young thing, bad girl, lesbian) and didn't realise that I was critical of her opinion of the roles of women because I was still full of optimism about them. I thought I would be enhanced, saved by motherhood. Actually, much as I love my boys (very much) I have found it the opposite. I have felt restricted.

Moments that stick in my mind are when Esther tries to drown herself, but she keeps bobbing back to the surface; wearing the same clothes and not washing for three weeks because 'what's the point, we're all going to die?' (I completely relate to this: I do wash, however, dear reader, but no longer wear make up or make any effort with my clothes, or shave my legs etc etc.) I was appalled when Esther's boyfriend, Buddy (a rather flaccid but ultimately all-American boy of social standing)  asked "I wonder who you will marry now?" (that she had been into a mental institution.) It still shocks and upsets me. I cried when Joan hanged herself and Esther sat in church and realised that it could have been her. I was also grateful that there was no obtusely happy ending; I realise that success is choosing to survive rather than to die and working at it. More than anything, I was amazed that someone was experiencing something so close to what I am.

I recommend it as a thoroughly enjoyable and thought provoking read about mental illness, although it is extremely dark and deals frankly with mental illness, prejudice, expectation and suicide.

I'll see you tomorrow. Take care x

Warning, long, theraputic posting.

"the silence depressed me. It wasn't the silence of silence. It was my own silence" Sylvia Plath, The Bell Jar

I have been thinking about writing this blog entry for several hours. I have made a decision. If I am to be honest, then I have to give a warts-and-all view of my life, otherwise it will be sanitised and pointless. During the course of this depression I have typed the words "depression" into Google more times than I can count. I am familiar with the symptoms, I can't quite grasp the medical papers and I felt very vulnerable and threatened by reports that implied depressed people are idle. What I really needed was to hear someone's voice about how depression makes them feel. I haven't found it yet. It occured to me that someone who is experiencing depression might stumble across this blog and, for that person, I decided that I need to be honest. I live in full hope that I will get better, so I feel compelled to record the lows, as well as reassure myself by telling you about the good times.

I feel like a gremlin that lives at the bottom of a wishing well. Yes, it's dark and smelly and damp in here, but it's safe. I don't really have to interact with anyone, this is my space. And, weirdly, that is comforting. I wish I was more alone at times. I find other people, especially those with the best of intentions, irritating.

Lack of sleep means that there is little relief from this waking somnambulance. Yesterday I slept for 2 fitful hours in 24. The rest of the time was spent in a semi-stupour, unable to concentrate on anything for more than about 10 minutes, just passing time. At least the crafting gives my hands something to do and quietens the thundering thoughts.

I have been really worrying about returning to my part time job. If I am honest with myself (and with you) I know I am not up to it at the moment. My job is managing a big, new project and lots of people are waiting to listen to my instructions. The fear I had going into work those last few weeks of term was crippling. I would go and cry in the toilets, or sit in my baking car with the windows shut, wanting to hide away from it all. The urge to run away was overwhelming. I felt constantly nauseous, full of adrenaline and even gagged on occasions. It was suffocating and punishing. Eventually something small became the straw that broke the camels back, I came home and completely collapsed. I tried going back to a meeting last week - something safe and admin based with just the one person who has always been supportive. Even that put the fear of God into me.

Anyway, I honestly don't believe I can do it. I am on a contract which ends on 31st August but is due to be renewed. I don't think I would be entitled to any sick leave. I cannot even begin to imagine the humiliation of having to explain so publicly how I feel. I just want to hide away in my own safe space and cry.

I received a letter yesterday questioning my GTC membership. It's a small thing but the GTC was introduced when I was teaching in Further Education, so I was never asked to join until now. However, I contacted the GTC and explained my current role and, as it doesn't involve teaching, they sent me an email to say I need not be a member. However the Head of the school that employ me disagrees with them. So I paid the joining fee. It is still not showing on their system, so she has threatened not to renew my contract.

I am gutted. This is the Head who has never spoken to me, not once in 12 months. The school where I have been given no office, desk or computer and no system login. We have recruited the best Diploma numbers in the region, and one of the best nationally, as a direct result of my hard work. I am proud to say I have developed a pretty good reputation locally, and have been offered jobs by more than one other school since starting this position. Our Diploma model is currently being seen as exemplary by other authorities nationally, and we are being asked to train others. I have worked far beyond the two days I am contracted to do. Have I got a thank you? No. The only contact I have had with the Head is to be threatened, twice, with the termination of my contract. The first time was because the CRB check took too long to come back and the air was heavy with the hint of "what have you done?" Clearly nothing, as the approved CRB and the apology from the police proved. Now we have the same thing again - an admin error. But it's me who is suffering - far, far more than is normal, I admit.

I am so tempted to tell her to stick her contract up her bum. I really don't want to - no actually, that's not right, I can't - deal with this at the moment. I have no idea how to deal with this situation and keep my professionalism. I don't want to sacrifice my career but I am not sure that, at this moment in time, I can complete the new contract as they expect. And to do anything but complete the contract to the best of my ability would be to let them down horribly.

Let me tell you about feeling suicidal. It's a deep, dark and seductive feeling. It's always at the back of your mind, and it's there when you sleep. I have dreamed several times of different ways to kill myself - mostly they involve hanging or throwing myself off a tall building. I have these weird, uncontrollable thoughts, like waking flash forwards if such a thing is possible, where I can see myself doing something outrageously violent to myself. Recently it has been cutting my wrists. Today I bought a craft knife like a pizza cutter for making some patchwork cushion covers. The idea of wheeling that fresh, sharp blade across my wrists is delicious and alarming and forbidden. And I can't acknowledge that feeling to anyone.

I want to mark myself in some way to show that I am feeling different. It's partly hurting, but partly demonstrating that I have changed and that I don't want to make petty conversations and do day-to-day stuff. Instead of the wrist slashing thing, I have bought red hair dye which, I am sure you will agree, is a sensible move. I want people to know that I am different. I don't want them to actually *do* anything, I just want them to see and not to ask, or expect too much of me.

I know that if I took my own life then my darling boys would be deeply hurt and I can't do that for them. So I feel angry, as though a basic human right has been taken away from me. I am frightened by my rage. I am reminded of Charlotte Perkins Gilman's Yellow Wallpaper and feel like creeping too. And that feeling is so abnormal it's strangely liberating.

Weirdly I also "know", like it's printed through me like a stick of rock, that I will get better. The anxiety comes because I don't know who I will be. This is a real rebirth. And that is both frightening and exciting. I am in freefall. So I know I will not commit suicide, but this does not stop me being magnetically drawn to such thoughts, desires and frustrations.

Today I went to the doctor. She has doubled my antidepressants and has told me to contact the mental health services to ask for my case to be moved up the priority list. I cannot tell you how difficult that is going to be. I am now literally terrified of the phone; it makes me feel sick. I am becoming much more anxious about the internet too. I am also afraid of the postman. I don't know what to do.

I have been crafting and I want to post about that, but this is not the time and the place. I may post later. You mustn't worry about me, as I still have the sensible voice in my head that keeps me in check. But the sensible me really misses Claire, I like her. I don't know where she has gone, although I suggest she's lurking in the back room of her mind and is unwilling to come to the door. I apologise to friends and family who are hurt my this (and some of the things I post). I wish it could be otherwise. However, I still love you all very, very much and hope that this soon will pass. Please stick with me.

Mental Wallpaper

Some lovely roses Aunty Pauline bought for me after their stay at the weekend, and something that's making me smile.  Note to self - buy flowers more often.

For me, one of the tough things about depression is that recovery is not a straight line upwards. It would make sense to me that, if I carry on taking the medication properly, today I should feel a little bit better than I did yesterday, and the day after even better still. Frustratingly, it really does feel like a case of two steps forward and one step back.

It's two weeks and one day since ground zero - the day that I completely broke down. I had been really struggling with the depression since Christmas, but I knew that I was feeling worse and worse. The only relief I had were what I called "cocoon days." On cocoon days, I would disppear. I would tell everyone that I was working with the other (bearing in mind that I was working 2 jobs and running a business). I would then spend blissful time doing only what I wanted - which was usually knitting, crocheting or pottery painting.

Ironically, the more under pressure I felt, the more I needed cocoon days. And the more I needed them, the less I should have taken them, given that the work and pressure were ramping up. It was ever decreasing circles. In the end I let lots of things slide and people started to get frustrated and cross with me - which made me start to avoid them, and phone calls, letters and emails. Which made them more cross. And me more determined to take my time where I could. I became a muddled, defensive mess.

Ground Zero came about when I made a mistake at work. In some ways it was very silly and minor - I hadn't confirmed a booking. I'll be honest - I lied and said I had. Bullshitting is the easiest way out of these situations sometimes. It's not like me - I usually am very conscientious. Anyway, lots of people had started work on something based on this little white lie I told. And I started to panic. The pressure I felt under was indescribable, and I hated myself. I was literally heaving.

In the end, someone else had made a worse mistake than me and so the whole thing was abandonded. I was out of the shit. But when I got home, there was a letter for the business about a bill I didn't even know we'd run up. I just dissolved. I never cry, never. Except when I am watching something sad on the television, and even then it's embarrassing and Dom takes the mickey. But that evening I just sobbed and sobbed all night long. To the extent that Charlie, my 4 year old, was afraid I was going to die, and it was clear from their faces that Dominic and Jonathan were seriously worried about me too.

I literally spent the next 5 days on the sofa. I did bits and bobs of work from home, but I had five cocoon days in a row. I spent most of that time asleep - it was like my body just went into shutdown. I did some knitting, but very little really, and only really managed stocking stitch - I literally could not concentrate on anything for more than 10 minutes or so. I largely slept all morning and watched Diagnosis Murder and Murder She Wrote in the afternoon.

Since those five days, I have started to feel much better. Dom has been at home, it's the school summer holidays, and his gentle, positive influence has been really helpful. He really understands, having been through something similar himself a couple of years ago. He just listens and encourages me to do things as I need to. There is something about his quiet, positive strength that just allows me to hand all my trust over to him as I know he's always got my best interests at heart.

Despite feeling generally more upbeat, the last two days have been tough. The anxiety has returned and I have stopped sleeping. Last night Jonny had a sleepover in a friend's tent, and I spent most of the night worrying he was OK - which is mad, he's 12 FFS and it was a few minutes away from home. I left the back light on should he come home, and he had his keys. Nothing bad really could happen. But somehow that didn't stop the depressive Gremlins whittering in my ear all night. True to form he came home this morning having had a wonderful time. And I am just tired out.

The upside of feeling down is that I have allowed myself to spend lots of time crocheting. I am making a new Afghan for the dining room. I started to make the Pieced Throw from the Erika Knight Book but it was too modern for the room, as I wanted a vintage look, so I frogged it and started again. It also didn't look right in sage green and purple. So I started making a lovely, flowery granny square blanket, having been inspired by the brilliant Attic 24 blog.

The centre of each square is a new stitch for me - bobble stitch (click link for instructional video). I do 8 bobble stitches and it really looks like the centre of a flower as it's more pointy that the Granny trebles. Each batch of four squares are joined, with edging of four rounds of Granny trebles in different colours. I am currently thinking that I will join all those bigger squares - possibly 9 or 12 - and then edge with a wide border of white and lilac. This will balance the bright colours of the centre squares, and will make sure it stands out on my aubergine sofas.

I am looove-ing it. There is something so soothing about the mindless trebles, which I can now do with my eyes shut, and I love the different textures of the different yarns. I really do like using a mixture of odds and ends, in the recycle and make-do-and-mend tradition of afghans. It is a soothing, repetitive mental wallpaper and helps me pass these dark, depressive days.

Anyway, what do you think?

And, as a contrast to this lovely colour, I decided to have a bash at the round cushion in Erika Knight's book. I am crocheting in a cream, cotton DK and I love the texture. It worked up really quickly to start with, although now the rounds are over 120 stitches it's taking much longer! I have run out of yarn for this, and for the edges of the afghan, so I will have to pop out to my LYS when the car comes back from the garage and it stops raining.

Here you go. And here's hoping for a bit more sunshine (literal and metaphorical) tomorrow.... x