Sometimes I am my own worst enemy.
I know that I often have problems sleeping, so I have developed a strategy that tries to ensure that I get as much sleep as possible. What I try to do is to tire myself out physically and mentally. The physical aspect can be quite difficult on the days that I don't have the energy to do much physical activity, and the mental side can be difficult to achieve when I have problems with concentration. However, I do my best and one thing that I can usually manage to deal with the mental side of things is to work on one of the crafts that I enjoy.
At the moment the craft that absorbs much of my time, and hopefully mental capacity, is knitting. I have often mentioned before that I have been a knitter almost all my life, and I have always loved the challenge of the difficult, so you will often find that I have several projects on the go at the same time so that I have something that is suitable to meet my concentration abilities at any given time.
Lace knitting requires a high level of concentration as it is nothing unusual for every row to be different when knitting a complex shawl for example. This means that it is not suitable as something to do when watching television. So, if it is a good night for television I will have something which requires little concentration, a jumper or a scarf, for example.
As a result of a large number of visitors to my blog a few weeks ago who had arrived via the same Google search terms I did some investigating. These visitors had arrived via a link in a knitting forum to one of my posts that was about Shetland Hap shawls. The end result was that I joined the knitting forum myself and I have been enjoying reading what other knitters are working on and attempting to answer other knitter's questions. One of the forum members has been knitting a lovely circular blanket (afghan) and has posted a picture of it now that she has finished it. She also gave details of the pattern that she used, so I had a look at the pattern and decided to buy it so that I could knit it in the future. I was able to buy a download of the pattern which was useful as the designer is American, as are most of the forum members, so it was unlikely that had it been a 'paper pattern' that it would be available in the UK.
Yesterday I went for walk and while I was out I managed to buy some wool, at a very reasonable price, to use to knit the blanket. I didn't mean to start the blanket yet as I have a couple of other projects that I need to work on, but because this pattern had a new technique for starting the work, I am afraid that the temptation was too much and yesterday evening I had to have a go at starting it. Try as I might I just could not follow the instructions for this start, which enables you to begin knitting a circular item without a bulky cast on and without leaving a hole at the middle of the item. However, there was an illustration showing what the cast on should look like once it had been completed and because the start of the blanket only required 10 stitches to be created I decided to approach the problem from a different angle. Armed with a knitting needle and the wool threaded through a tapestry needle, I managed to recreate the layout of the stitches and yarn as illustrated and then transferred them to the double-pointed needles required for the early stages of the knitting. Having managed this, I found that I had to carry on with the knitting, at least for a few rows, so that I had the pattern, and the blanket, established and ready to be put aside until I was ready to work on it in earnest.
Unfortunately I became hooked on it, and as it grew I found I wanted to start work on the next chart (it is worked using a set of charts to illustrate how the stitches and patterns involved are developed) and then the next. This meant that instead of going to bed at a reasonable time and reading a little before going to sleep, I was hooked on my knitting and was still going strong at about 3am this morning at which time I started to yawn uncontrollably and realized that I really ought to go to bed. I was asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow but was awake again by 6.30 with the sun streaming through the window. Not enough sleep really, but I found that I couldn't turn over and drop off again.
There you have it. I'm tired, but I have things that I must do today, so I am up and having now had something to eat and got myself ready to face the day, I must get on with my chores, go to the Post Office to do some business there, then go for a walk to get some physical exercise for the day, before coming home and maybe having a short nap to make up for the hours that I missed last night.
Tonight I really must go to bed early, but I bet I won't. You see I really am my own worst enemy!
Wednesday, 18 March 2009
Monday, 16 March 2009
I Don't Know ...
... anybody who doesn't love popping the bubbles of bubble wrap. So here is a fabulous place to go.
Saturday, 14 March 2009
You Know That ...
... summer can't be too far way when the ice-cream vans start to come round the houses with their tinny musical horns advertising their presence.
Yes, this afternoon the first ice-cream seller of the season paid a visit outside my house. Much as I love ice cream, it's still too cold to go out into the street to "Stop him and buy one".
Yes, this afternoon the first ice-cream seller of the season paid a visit outside my house. Much as I love ice cream, it's still too cold to go out into the street to "Stop him and buy one".
Friday, 13 March 2009
Psychotherapy And Termination
As usual for a Thursday night I had to make do with just a couple of hours sleep last night. But for all that I was quite alert when I left the house this morning to make my way to the hospital and my psychotherapy session. And I was fine until my psychotherapist came to fetch me. From that moment on I started to get into a panic and by the time that we got to the room that we use my heart was pounding and before I knew it tears were running down my cheeks. I don't know why I was like this, maybe it was because of the way that I have been feeling for the last week or 10 days.
My psychotherapist let me get myself together again and then started the conversation by asking if I had thought about the termination of the therapy that I have been undergoing. I haven't; probably because I know that I am not yet ready for this eventuality, but there is a problem with the fact that I am not ready. I have known from the start that this therapy would only be for one year and the end of that period is approaching. I should have been prepared for this subject being broached because of something that my therapist asked me last week, but I suppose that I didn't want to think about it because I don't think that I am ready to end therapy.
It is about six weeks until my year is completed, but Easter is going to fall within this period and that means that I will not have therapy on Good Friday. So today we talked about the termination of our therapeutic relationship and how that made me feel. That was easy to answer. I feel like I am being abandoned. Though I have made a lot of progress over the period that I have been having psychotherapy, I know that there are still a lot of things that I need to come to terms with before I can say that I can cope without it. And that is an achievement in itself.
When my GP referred me to the hospital for this psychotherapy, I was sceptical about it. I was not sure that it was the right thing for me, possibly because of my horrific experience with the first therapist that I saw all those years ago. The two assessment appointments that I had at the hospital were very traumatic but the psychologist who carried out the assessment thought that I was a good candidate for this type of therapy and that it would help me. He was right; it has helped because I am able to do some things that would have been impossible a year ago. But I am still not at the stage that I want to be and this means that I need to continue with therapy of some sort so that was the next thing that we discussed.
One of the three possibilities was sort of dropped almost immediately. I don't think that my therapist thinks that it is right for me, so although he offered it as a possible option, it formed no further part of our conversation. The other two possibilities have given me a lot of food for thought. He could refer me for group psychotherapy at the hospital that I attend now. This would mean that I would be taking part in the same sort of psychotherapy but in a group rather than as an individual. There are merits to this but also one major difficulty. The difficulty is that I am not sure how I would cope in a group as talking to other people about myself and my feelings is not something that I find very easy. The other possibility is that I be referred for full-blown psychoanalysis. Unfortunately this would not be available on the NHS so I would have to pay for it, but my psychotherapist does feel that this could be the way forward for me.
Obviously this is going to form the basis of my psychotherapy session next week, at least to start with, and it is something that I need to think about and investigate in the meantime. I wish that I didn't have to stop therapy with my present psychotherapist because I have got used to him and I feel that we have been getting somewhere. But it has to happen and I will have to accept that. But I can't help feeling that I am being abandoned and that whatever happens I will have to start all over again.
My psychotherapist let me get myself together again and then started the conversation by asking if I had thought about the termination of the therapy that I have been undergoing. I haven't; probably because I know that I am not yet ready for this eventuality, but there is a problem with the fact that I am not ready. I have known from the start that this therapy would only be for one year and the end of that period is approaching. I should have been prepared for this subject being broached because of something that my therapist asked me last week, but I suppose that I didn't want to think about it because I don't think that I am ready to end therapy.
It is about six weeks until my year is completed, but Easter is going to fall within this period and that means that I will not have therapy on Good Friday. So today we talked about the termination of our therapeutic relationship and how that made me feel. That was easy to answer. I feel like I am being abandoned. Though I have made a lot of progress over the period that I have been having psychotherapy, I know that there are still a lot of things that I need to come to terms with before I can say that I can cope without it. And that is an achievement in itself.
When my GP referred me to the hospital for this psychotherapy, I was sceptical about it. I was not sure that it was the right thing for me, possibly because of my horrific experience with the first therapist that I saw all those years ago. The two assessment appointments that I had at the hospital were very traumatic but the psychologist who carried out the assessment thought that I was a good candidate for this type of therapy and that it would help me. He was right; it has helped because I am able to do some things that would have been impossible a year ago. But I am still not at the stage that I want to be and this means that I need to continue with therapy of some sort so that was the next thing that we discussed.
One of the three possibilities was sort of dropped almost immediately. I don't think that my therapist thinks that it is right for me, so although he offered it as a possible option, it formed no further part of our conversation. The other two possibilities have given me a lot of food for thought. He could refer me for group psychotherapy at the hospital that I attend now. This would mean that I would be taking part in the same sort of psychotherapy but in a group rather than as an individual. There are merits to this but also one major difficulty. The difficulty is that I am not sure how I would cope in a group as talking to other people about myself and my feelings is not something that I find very easy. The other possibility is that I be referred for full-blown psychoanalysis. Unfortunately this would not be available on the NHS so I would have to pay for it, but my psychotherapist does feel that this could be the way forward for me.
Obviously this is going to form the basis of my psychotherapy session next week, at least to start with, and it is something that I need to think about and investigate in the meantime. I wish that I didn't have to stop therapy with my present psychotherapist because I have got used to him and I feel that we have been getting somewhere. But it has to happen and I will have to accept that. But I can't help feeling that I am being abandoned and that whatever happens I will have to start all over again.
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
Like A Poppy
I've been having a bit of a bad time again recently. Can't you tell? The posts seem to have tailed off again. I know that when I go for psychotherapy on Friday I am going to be asked if there is a reason for it, and I think that I am going to have to say that I don't know that there is.
Mental well-being is a strange thing. If you can find a reason for why you are not feeling at your best then you can usually do something to help raise your spirits a little or take your mind off how bad you are feeling. But if you are not aware of what is causing you to feel 'down' it can be very hard to find that little something that will make your day brighter.
I try to keep busy. I look to various crafts to while away the hours. Knitting can be great if the pattern isn't too complicated. You can tell yourself to get to the next important stage in the pattern and as long as that goal isn't too far away, you can reach it and go past that point without thinking about what is wrong with your life.
When working on a cross stitch picture I try to work on a particular area so that a bit more of the overall picture is obvious on the needlework. It can make a significant difference as I shade in squares on the picture key and see the design start to come to life. There are particular designs that I like to sew. One series that I particularly enjoy is of a little bear called Newton. I have a number of these pictures completed now, and several more waiting to be sewn, but so far only one has been framed. Soon I am going to have to sort some out and take them to the local framer so that I can have a selection of these jolly little pictures hanging on the walls around me. Newton is a bit of a philosopher so as well as being pictures of a little bear in often unfortunate situations, each picture has a little adage embroidered on it. They can make me smile.
Another subject that I love to embroider is poppies. Although for many the poppy has sad connotations, I think poppies are happy flowers. For me, one of the most beautiful sights in the world is a mass of bright red heads in a field of corn, or blowing in the wind on a grassy verge. I suppose it is the frailty of the flower that makes it so appealing. Tissue-paper thin petals that last for such a short time but which fight against everything surrounding them in order to show themselves in their full glory.
I suppose that I am a bit like a poppy. Fragile so much of the time, but fighting my way through life so that I can, just once in a while, stand with my head held proud and show the world that I am still here and that no matter what makes my life difficult, I will rise over it as best I can.
Mental well-being is a strange thing. If you can find a reason for why you are not feeling at your best then you can usually do something to help raise your spirits a little or take your mind off how bad you are feeling. But if you are not aware of what is causing you to feel 'down' it can be very hard to find that little something that will make your day brighter.
I try to keep busy. I look to various crafts to while away the hours. Knitting can be great if the pattern isn't too complicated. You can tell yourself to get to the next important stage in the pattern and as long as that goal isn't too far away, you can reach it and go past that point without thinking about what is wrong with your life.
When working on a cross stitch picture I try to work on a particular area so that a bit more of the overall picture is obvious on the needlework. It can make a significant difference as I shade in squares on the picture key and see the design start to come to life. There are particular designs that I like to sew. One series that I particularly enjoy is of a little bear called Newton. I have a number of these pictures completed now, and several more waiting to be sewn, but so far only one has been framed. Soon I am going to have to sort some out and take them to the local framer so that I can have a selection of these jolly little pictures hanging on the walls around me. Newton is a bit of a philosopher so as well as being pictures of a little bear in often unfortunate situations, each picture has a little adage embroidered on it. They can make me smile.
Another subject that I love to embroider is poppies. Although for many the poppy has sad connotations, I think poppies are happy flowers. For me, one of the most beautiful sights in the world is a mass of bright red heads in a field of corn, or blowing in the wind on a grassy verge. I suppose it is the frailty of the flower that makes it so appealing. Tissue-paper thin petals that last for such a short time but which fight against everything surrounding them in order to show themselves in their full glory.
I suppose that I am a bit like a poppy. Fragile so much of the time, but fighting my way through life so that I can, just once in a while, stand with my head held proud and show the world that I am still here and that no matter what makes my life difficult, I will rise over it as best I can.
Tuesday, 10 March 2009
My Bedtime Reading
I've been reading a lot over the last few weeks, far more than I have for a very long time. Yes, I used to read all my study material but as I have said a couple of times just recently I haven't been reading for pleasure and relaxation. Having dropped my studying for a few months I now have the opportunity to do just that and I have now finished all three of the books that I had recently bought for enjoyment.
Yesterday I finished reading Bill Bryson's Shakespeare and I have to say that it was another book that I enjoyed, not just because it was for relaxation but because Bryson writes brilliantly and he covered the subject well. I hadn't realized just how little was really known about Shakespeare and his life, but Bryson tells it as it is. Shakespeare is, and will probably remain forever, a somewhat shady character, not because of what he did but because so little can be proved about his life. We are so used to there being so much documentary evidence about significant people in this country's past that it comes as a real surprise to find that most of Shakespeare's life as portrayed in the majority of the books about him is nothing more than conjecture.
Having finished the book yesterday afternoon, I was left with the quandary of what to read in bed last night. I have got back into the habit of reading for half an hour or so before I lie down to go to sleep and although I have the complete novels of Jane Austen sitting waiting to be dipped in to when I am in the mood, it really wasn't what I had in mind as bedtime reading.
As I headed to bed last night I had a look to see what I had in my library that could bear reading again. And then I found it. The Complete Chronicles of Narnia; an edition that was published to mark the 50th anniversary of the publication of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The beauty of this book is that it includes the illustrations that were drawn for the original editions of the seven novels, but this time in colour. And the books are arranged in the order of the story rather than the order that they were written. Last night I began reading The Magician's Nephew, the story that tells of the creation of Narnia and how the animals were made to talk.
It is unfashionable to write 'nice' stories for children these days, and there can be no doubt that these are 'nice' stories. C S Lewis was a man well known for his religious beliefs and the Narnian Chronicles are undoubtedly religious in nature with Aslan being an allegory for God. So The Magician's Nephew is the story of the Creation, and the last of the books, The Last Battle, tells of the end of time. Although religion is something that seems to be out of favour at the moment, the morality of the stories is something that we can do well to take on board.
So for the next few weeks I am going to work my way through the seven novels, remembering the circumstances of how I first came to enjoy the stories and enjoying seven beautifully written children's books. Yes, it is escapism, but isn't that what books are for. It doesn't matter that they are somewhat dated now, the morals contained within them are as important to take on board today as they were when the books were written all those years ago.
Yesterday I finished reading Bill Bryson's Shakespeare and I have to say that it was another book that I enjoyed, not just because it was for relaxation but because Bryson writes brilliantly and he covered the subject well. I hadn't realized just how little was really known about Shakespeare and his life, but Bryson tells it as it is. Shakespeare is, and will probably remain forever, a somewhat shady character, not because of what he did but because so little can be proved about his life. We are so used to there being so much documentary evidence about significant people in this country's past that it comes as a real surprise to find that most of Shakespeare's life as portrayed in the majority of the books about him is nothing more than conjecture.
Having finished the book yesterday afternoon, I was left with the quandary of what to read in bed last night. I have got back into the habit of reading for half an hour or so before I lie down to go to sleep and although I have the complete novels of Jane Austen sitting waiting to be dipped in to when I am in the mood, it really wasn't what I had in mind as bedtime reading.
As I headed to bed last night I had a look to see what I had in my library that could bear reading again. And then I found it. The Complete Chronicles of Narnia; an edition that was published to mark the 50th anniversary of the publication of The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe. The beauty of this book is that it includes the illustrations that were drawn for the original editions of the seven novels, but this time in colour. And the books are arranged in the order of the story rather than the order that they were written. Last night I began reading The Magician's Nephew, the story that tells of the creation of Narnia and how the animals were made to talk.
It is unfashionable to write 'nice' stories for children these days, and there can be no doubt that these are 'nice' stories. C S Lewis was a man well known for his religious beliefs and the Narnian Chronicles are undoubtedly religious in nature with Aslan being an allegory for God. So The Magician's Nephew is the story of the Creation, and the last of the books, The Last Battle, tells of the end of time. Although religion is something that seems to be out of favour at the moment, the morality of the stories is something that we can do well to take on board.
So for the next few weeks I am going to work my way through the seven novels, remembering the circumstances of how I first came to enjoy the stories and enjoying seven beautifully written children's books. Yes, it is escapism, but isn't that what books are for. It doesn't matter that they are somewhat dated now, the morals contained within them are as important to take on board today as they were when the books were written all those years ago.
Friday, 6 March 2009
Psychotherapy And Lunch
Friday, psychotherapy day, and I was awake long before dawn. For the last few days I haven't been able to stop sleeping, night or day, and yet last night sleep was something that was difficult to come by. But no matter, because I knew that today should be easy enough to get through.
As usual, my mind and tongue seemed to lack the ability to work together. I knew that I could, in fact I should, start the session by talking and yet it seemed so difficult to actually achieve. And then, after a super-human effort I managed it. I started to talk about how I was sorry that I hadn't had a session last Friday for it would have been nice to talk to someone about how my lecture had gone the day before.
Having got started, having made that extreme effort, the session seemed to go quite well. There were moments that were difficult, when tears flowed easily, when I had to admit to wanting things that I knew that I couldn't have, things that were impossible, but as we moved on and talked of other things the tears stopped and I started to feel almost calm. I talked about the adrenalin high that I experienced for about 48 hours after the lecture and seminar, and how my life seemed to tumble into the abyss again once this period was gone.
Talking about it this morning I realized just how disappointing it was not to have someone who I could talk to about the event immediately afterwards. Yes, I blogged about it, and you were kind and sent me lots of lovely comments, but it's just not the same as having someone there who you can talk to about it and who can ask you questions and who can feel the same sense of achievement as you have felt over the experience.
When the session was over I left the hospital to catch a bus; not home but into the centre of London. I was meeting Mr Smiley for lunch and just for a change he was early. Mr Smiley operates on a different time-scale to the rest of us; we call it Smiley Time. Lunch was great, and we had a long chat covering all sorts of things. All too soon it was time to leave and we went our separate ways.
It was only when I got home this afternoon that I realized that I have only spoken to three people this week. Loneliness is a terrible thing, and I know that I really must make an effort and get out more. Perhaps when the weather improves I might manage this. In the meantime, I will keep knitting and reading and find lots of other things to keep my mind active, and try to get out for a walk every day so that I can keep my body active too.
As usual, my mind and tongue seemed to lack the ability to work together. I knew that I could, in fact I should, start the session by talking and yet it seemed so difficult to actually achieve. And then, after a super-human effort I managed it. I started to talk about how I was sorry that I hadn't had a session last Friday for it would have been nice to talk to someone about how my lecture had gone the day before.
Having got started, having made that extreme effort, the session seemed to go quite well. There were moments that were difficult, when tears flowed easily, when I had to admit to wanting things that I knew that I couldn't have, things that were impossible, but as we moved on and talked of other things the tears stopped and I started to feel almost calm. I talked about the adrenalin high that I experienced for about 48 hours after the lecture and seminar, and how my life seemed to tumble into the abyss again once this period was gone.
Talking about it this morning I realized just how disappointing it was not to have someone who I could talk to about the event immediately afterwards. Yes, I blogged about it, and you were kind and sent me lots of lovely comments, but it's just not the same as having someone there who you can talk to about it and who can ask you questions and who can feel the same sense of achievement as you have felt over the experience.
When the session was over I left the hospital to catch a bus; not home but into the centre of London. I was meeting Mr Smiley for lunch and just for a change he was early. Mr Smiley operates on a different time-scale to the rest of us; we call it Smiley Time. Lunch was great, and we had a long chat covering all sorts of things. All too soon it was time to leave and we went our separate ways.
It was only when I got home this afternoon that I realized that I have only spoken to three people this week. Loneliness is a terrible thing, and I know that I really must make an effort and get out more. Perhaps when the weather improves I might manage this. In the meantime, I will keep knitting and reading and find lots of other things to keep my mind active, and try to get out for a walk every day so that I can keep my body active too.
Thursday, 5 March 2009
Sleeping And Reading
I have not been feeling my best for a few days now. In fact, I have been feeling pretty low. It's been a bit strange because instead of not being able to sleep as is quite usual for me when depression starts to take over, this time I have had trouble staying awake. When I have been awake I have been reading and I have really enjoyed reading for enjoyment rather than reading for studying.
I have finished reading two books over the last week or so. Moondust, about the men who walked on the Moon, and Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. I read books in much the same way that I knit. I can't have just one on the go, I have to be reading several books at the same time so that I can pick one to suit my mood.
I have been off novels for the last few weeks, so Pride and Prejudice is sitting waiting for me to get into the mood for fiction again. And tonight when I go to bed I will need to start a new book. As luck would have it I have another non-fiction book waiting to be read; Bill Bryson's Shakespeare. This is quite a slim volume (only 200 pages) and certainly shorter than many of the books that I read. I'm led to believe that Bryson's book, while not the in-depth biography that most would feel that they had to write about the Bard, is nevertheless worth the read, and funny to boot. Having read Bryson's A Short History of Everything, and thoroughly enjoyed it, I am hoping that I will be able to say the same about this book too.
Reading is such a comfort when I am feeling like this.
I have finished reading two books over the last week or so. Moondust, about the men who walked on the Moon, and Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. I read books in much the same way that I knit. I can't have just one on the go, I have to be reading several books at the same time so that I can pick one to suit my mood.
I have been off novels for the last few weeks, so Pride and Prejudice is sitting waiting for me to get into the mood for fiction again. And tonight when I go to bed I will need to start a new book. As luck would have it I have another non-fiction book waiting to be read; Bill Bryson's Shakespeare. This is quite a slim volume (only 200 pages) and certainly shorter than many of the books that I read. I'm led to believe that Bryson's book, while not the in-depth biography that most would feel that they had to write about the Bard, is nevertheless worth the read, and funny to boot. Having read Bryson's A Short History of Everything, and thoroughly enjoyed it, I am hoping that I will be able to say the same about this book too.
Reading is such a comfort when I am feeling like this.
Monday, 2 March 2009
Emptiness
I'm having one of those days. You know the sort; you don't seem to be able to settle to anything and you know that there are loads of things that you could be doing, or ought to be doing, but you don't feel like doing any of them.
I seem to be finding my days a little empty after having had a reasonably significant event or two, every week for the last couple of months. Was it really only four days ago that I was travelling home from one of the biggest days in my life for a long time? It seems so much longer ago than that. The euphoria has gone and life has returned to the mundane.
Now I have nothing to prepare for, nothing to look forward to, nothing to plan. Life seems to be empty, and those dark feelings are looking for a chink in my armour so that they can invade again. And the tears are starting to flow.
I seem to be finding my days a little empty after having had a reasonably significant event or two, every week for the last couple of months. Was it really only four days ago that I was travelling home from one of the biggest days in my life for a long time? It seems so much longer ago than that. The euphoria has gone and life has returned to the mundane.
Now I have nothing to prepare for, nothing to look forward to, nothing to plan. Life seems to be empty, and those dark feelings are looking for a chink in my armour so that they can invade again. And the tears are starting to flow.
Sunday, 1 March 2009
The Art Of Relaxation
It's not something that I have thought about much before, but I have suddenly realized that I haven't been relaxed for a long time. This seemed a strange realization because there have been so many times recently when I have done nothing but sleep for hours on end. But this is not relaxation; it is more a case of exhaustion and the body saying that it can take no more and needs to close down in order to recuperate.
At the moment I am not studying anything with the OU. I wasn't enjoying the course that I was doing and I felt that constantly having to force myself to find the time and the enthusiasm to study was part of the reason that I was feeling so depressed. I may have been right because once I had made the decision to stop for a while I started to feel better. I wasn't completely out of the darkness, but I started to feel better than I had for a long time.
I still had things that I had to do. I had to write the notes and script for last week's lecture and that meant a deadline to work to, and it was a deadline that could not be changed or negotiated over. This was probably rather good for me. I didn't put the finishing touches to it until the day before it was going to be presented, partly because I had a significant change of mind about how the experience of my current psychotherapy should be described. I think that the change was successful and added to the impact of what I had to say.
Now that this event is over I have nothing major in my diary for a couple of months. This means that I can spend time on myself doing whatever I want and this weekend has been wonderful. I have done what I wanted, when I wanted to and thoroughly enjoyed it. Yesterday morning I finished knitting a scarf that I had started earlier in the week, then immediately started another one, this time a lacy pattern that is being knitted in a lovely mohair yarn in shades of blue and purple. It is progressing well and will be finished this afternoon.
I read a little this morning, and only put the book down and picked up the knitting because I could feel my eyes getting heavy and sleep calling to me. I am enjoying my reading again, and reading a little each night before going to sleep; this is again something that I have not done for a long time. And the reason for all this is that I have suddenly discovered the art of relaxation again.
I am doing things that I enjoy and doing them when I want to and not seeing them as a means to help to focus my mind on something other than how I am feeling. I'm not worrying about how I am feeling because I think that I am feeling happy. It's been a long time coming so I think that I am going to make the most of it while it is here. I shall relax, do whatever I want to, and not worry too much about the chores. Yes, I will do them, but I won't worry if I decide to put something off until tomorrow because I want to do something different. And that is going to include me taking the opportunity to visit a couple of museums that I haven't visited for more years than I care to think about, and one that I have never visited at all.
I'm rather enjoying relaxation.
At the moment I am not studying anything with the OU. I wasn't enjoying the course that I was doing and I felt that constantly having to force myself to find the time and the enthusiasm to study was part of the reason that I was feeling so depressed. I may have been right because once I had made the decision to stop for a while I started to feel better. I wasn't completely out of the darkness, but I started to feel better than I had for a long time.
I still had things that I had to do. I had to write the notes and script for last week's lecture and that meant a deadline to work to, and it was a deadline that could not be changed or negotiated over. This was probably rather good for me. I didn't put the finishing touches to it until the day before it was going to be presented, partly because I had a significant change of mind about how the experience of my current psychotherapy should be described. I think that the change was successful and added to the impact of what I had to say.
Now that this event is over I have nothing major in my diary for a couple of months. This means that I can spend time on myself doing whatever I want and this weekend has been wonderful. I have done what I wanted, when I wanted to and thoroughly enjoyed it. Yesterday morning I finished knitting a scarf that I had started earlier in the week, then immediately started another one, this time a lacy pattern that is being knitted in a lovely mohair yarn in shades of blue and purple. It is progressing well and will be finished this afternoon.
I read a little this morning, and only put the book down and picked up the knitting because I could feel my eyes getting heavy and sleep calling to me. I am enjoying my reading again, and reading a little each night before going to sleep; this is again something that I have not done for a long time. And the reason for all this is that I have suddenly discovered the art of relaxation again.
I am doing things that I enjoy and doing them when I want to and not seeing them as a means to help to focus my mind on something other than how I am feeling. I'm not worrying about how I am feeling because I think that I am feeling happy. It's been a long time coming so I think that I am going to make the most of it while it is here. I shall relax, do whatever I want to, and not worry too much about the chores. Yes, I will do them, but I won't worry if I decide to put something off until tomorrow because I want to do something different. And that is going to include me taking the opportunity to visit a couple of museums that I haven't visited for more years than I care to think about, and one that I have never visited at all.
I'm rather enjoying relaxation.
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