You Gotta Be Strong Enough To Walk On Through The Night...

 

Isn't this afghan amazing? It's not mine! I discovered it on Ravelry and can't stop looking at it. What inspiration!
 

Well, hello my lovelies. I am sending you big, woolly hugs, I've poured myself a coffee and suggest you do the same too. Shall we take 5 minutes to put our feet up together and catch up? Good-oh.

It's been a very dark couple of weeks here in East Yorkshire literally and metaphorically. I have been really, really struggling. There have been lots of days when I have double locked all the doors and refused to open the blinds and curtains. Jonny has a secret knock and Dom has to send me a text message just before he gets home. I know this isn't right, and I feel dreadfully sad for my family, but I just can't help it. I need to feel safe.

There has been a lot going on, relating to the closure of the business, that I can't really talk about on here. But it has made me feel very frightened and panicky. I can really relate to the 'fight or flight' feelings that books on depression always mention. My self esteem has really taken a knock and there are days when I wonder whether everyone would be better off without me.

Having said that, today I am feeling an eensy bit more positive, so I don't want to dwell too much on the darkness. Suffice to say, I have been / am there, if you are in the black pit at the moment.

On a positive note, I have reached out for help and got some amazing responses. Weird as it may seem, I emailed Dom and told him how suicidal I was feeling; I hadn't wanted to trouble him before as he has a lot on his place. He has been marvellous. I emailed The Samaritans one especially bleak afternoon and they responded, saying they were glad I felt I could talk to them. I don't know why, but that sentence made me feel warm inside and has been very helpful. Perhaps because it didn;t make me feel like a burden. Also, I posted on a forum I visit regularly and got some lovely responses from friends old and new. Many had experienced the same thing and, in a funny way, it's reassuring to hear that it's part of a process. I have also had some wonderful, wonderful comments from Postcrossers - welcome, if you're visiting! Even though I feel in a dark place personally, I feel blessed to have some wonderful, loving people around me. I can feel you, even if I can't always respond.

I haven't blogged for ages because I couldn't motivate myself to take some pictures. That would have meant getting the camera out, charging it, finding something to photograph, finding some good light, arranging the pieces, uploading the images, editing them etc etc - it was just too many decisions. I missed you though. I love blogland, it gives me the opportunity to engage with the world in a voyeuristic way, but engage with it nevertheless. And it's warm, personable, friendly and inspiring.

I have always considered myself to be something of a bloke's girl and, having a brother, husband and two sons, that has always been useful. However, at the moment, I find I am craving female company (I hope that doesn't sound rude?!) I have been thinking about it a lot, and I realise that it's a need to feel mothered. I have spent the last 13 years of my life mothering, and now I feel as though I need something back. I don't mean this to be a criticism of my own mother at all, because this is quite an abstract feeling.

Let me sum it up:

I want to be somewhere safe, where I don't have to make any decisions. Somewhere where I feel loved and cherished. Somewhere clean and warm and comfortable, with clean, nice smelling bed linen. Somewhere I can relax completely and not feel guilty, or as though I am not pulling my weight. Someone who will hug me, and laugh with me and leave me alone if I need it. Someone who will understand me without needing to say a word. Somewhere I can undo myself and be properly vulnerable for the first time in my life, so that I can put myself back together properly and face the world again.

My husband really can't provide this for me, it's the mothering of an older woman I need. Someone warm and wise and who really, really wants the best for me.

Imagine you have clenched your fist for a long time, really, really tightly. It would hurt, wouldn't it? In order to recover from the pain you would have to gradually relax each of your fingers until they were straight and then massage them until the pain had left. And wait for a good long time until you had forgotten they had ever been clenched in the first place before you used that hand again.

That is where I am at the moment. My fist has been clenched for as long as I can remember. I guess I am in the process of relaxing, and I know it's going to take a long time.

Today I opened the curtains and blinds for the first time in a week and let the weak afternoon sunshine in. It's a start. Now I am going to wrap myself up in the afghan I made, and have a snooze on the sofa. Dom is home late this evening, so I have lots of time to get the chores done. I will iron his shirts, I think, and make a cake. A couple of little ways I can let my family know that I love them.

I have started Christmas gift knitting and it's really helping me through the tough times. Did I say I have had tonsillitis for a week now? Just in one tonsil, it's driving me mad. Anyway, tomorrow I will share some knitting pictures with you. At least I have written about the darkness, and now I can draw a line under it.

I hope all is well with you. I think about you often.

Chin up

Claire x

Cozy blankets and dark days

The thing with a blog about depression is the worry that for everyone else reading it, it's going to be rather, erm, depressing. This fear has prevented me from posting too much over the past week.

It's been an up-and-down sort of time. There have been good days, baked cakes, delicious roast dinners, home-made blackberry ice-cream made from brambles in our garden, two days out to the beach, feeding monkey nuts to the squirrels, hours and hours on my lovely, lovely afghan with which I am in mad, mad love, a boat trip, a day out to the farm in which I held day old chicks and made friends with an old farm cat with one ear, who snuggled into my lap like he'd always been there and promptly fell asleep - and of course, my lovely, lovely boys with whom I am so lucky to spend my life.

There have, however, been lots of dark days. That hollow, haunting fear, the anger with myself, the complete frustration with the world, lots of tears, the lack of sleep, the depressive ruminations and the people that I feel let down by, over which I have lost far too many tears. I can't get perspective on this yet, but I can tell myself that sometimes a good spring clean of one's life is necessary and helpful. I am usually an upbeat, positive, optimistic person, so I guess that when I have my down days they are going to be bad - just because we experience ups and downs equally. At least deep depths mean high highs, I guess. The worst thing for me is not lows, but would be experiencing a sort of bland, magnolia sort of life. 

I have a doctors appointment on Thursday because something needs to change. I don't know whether my medication needs altering, or whether I need to stump up for private CBT, or have my coil removed (the GP suggested that the progesterone it releases might be making the depression worse, but I really don't want this to be the case as it's so convenient.) In addition to the depression I am experiencing a lot of post-shingles pain, and it's quite excruiating at times. The thing that helps the most is Solpedeine Max as usual painkillers don't seem to touch it. These have the effect of making me feel all warm and snoozy, which is lovely. So I am trapped in a depressed, but ultimately comfortable, place and whilst I desparately want to leave it, I am also afraid to walk in to the sunshine. Any sort of rebirth metaphor would be appropriate here.

What really frightens me - and deep down what I think I need - is to be signed off work. I have no idea how it would work, it would be most incovenient for everyone involved and I am sure that my reputation would be damaged in a very public way. I went in for a day last week and it was much, much tougher than I thought it would be, and the pressure isn't on at all yet. I feel as though I am starting to get better; that the wound is covered by papery-thin new skin. But it still hurts and feels very raw, and it would be wrong to assume I am completely healed. Deep down I am sure that it's going to take a long time to get better, but I can't shake the guilt that I am lazy, taking advantage of people and not committed.

My camera battery needs charging (no metaphor this time!), so I don't have the usual raft of pictures for you. I will try to get it charged (once it has been located) and update later tonight. However, I have been overwhelmed by the desire to sit and make blankets. I have made two in the last week - and bloody big buggers they are too. One was done in a day using size 20 needles and used up a whole heap of old yarn that I'd had for a long time and wasn't sure what to do with. It looks fab, and is really squishy. The kids and cats love it. I enjoyed being lazy and watching 'Dirty Harry' whilst it was being completed, but the combination of the big needles and heavy fabric gave me chronic RSI in my hands (oo-er)

The second blanket is the afghan - it now has 12 large squares and 11 rows of edging. I haven't measured it, but it's at least single bed size. I am in mad, mad love with it. I can't say much more to convey my affection but, as with all love affairs, every time I make a change, add a square or a new colour I initially think it has been ruined, only to find it has been enhanced beyond my wildest dreams. I don't care if other people don't like it, it really is like a third baby to me at this moment in time.

I haven't done much else in the way of crafting, despite putting the hours in, because those are such big projects in their own right. However, we did get up the shelves in the kitchen to display my lovely ceramic nick-nacks and it looks amazing. It really shows off the bunting tea set well.

Will get those pictures up, and update with some of the other projects I have done this year in the meantime. Thanks for sticking with me - especially through the depressive bits, and thank you for all the lovely comments, I am so touched by them all. Bloggers rock x