Last night I managed to get some sleep. Not a lot, but sleep nonetheless. This has meant that I have not felt quite so awful today and have managed to do a little bit of knitting and some reading.
This afternoon I have been to see my GP. This was for my monthly visit so that he can ensure that I am okay and to get a prescription for my antidepressants. He is not very good at keeping to time with his appointments, but today I was seen five minutes early and gave us something to laugh about when I went in. Usually his opening remark is an apology for keeping me waiting, but today it wasn't necessary.
He asked whether I had received a letter for my appointment at the hospital to see the consultant about the little (actually not so little) problem that makes sitting down uncomfortable. I told him that I had been a couple of weeks ago and I'm now waiting for an appointment for the surgery that is necessary.
Then he told me that it was necessary for me to have my blood pressure taken. As luck would have it, I was wearing a short-sleeved top under my fleece so attaching the cuff to my arm was easy. As this was being done he checked that I had taken my blood pressure medication this morning and I had to think about it. Had I taken it? I have to take four different medications every morning and for the life of me I couldn't remember whether I had taken them this morning. Then I remembered. I take aspirin, and this morning when I had put the various tablets in my mouth and taken a good swig of water, four tablets had gone down but the aspirin had stuck to the roof of my mouth and had started to dissolve there. A second swig of water had taken care of that. Anyway, I was told to sit back in the chair and relax. I needn't have worried; my blood pressure was fine, perfect.
We talked about my depression, the support that I was getting from my consultant psychiatrist, and my psychotherapy. Then it was just a case of printing off the prescription for my antidepressants and I was done.
Since I have been back from the appointment (and collecting the medication from the chemist) I have managed to do two rows of my knitting (I have started knitting a lace shawl) and read a couple of chapters of a book that arrived from Amazon today. The book is The C-word by Lisa Lynch and is based on her blog which is one that I have been reading for more than a year now. For any of you who haven't read the blog, I would recommend it to you all and if you can't be bothered to work your way through the blog, then get the book. It is the amazing story of how Lisa found herself suffering from breast cancer at the age of 28 and her fight with 'The Bullshit' as it was to become known.
I shall get back to the book when I go to bed tonight, but I shall pick up the knitting after I have finished this post and written an email to There and Back.
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
Saturday, 23 January 2010
Tackling The Mental Health Minefield Part 8 - OT? What OT?
(This post continues the story from Tackling The Mental Health Minefield Part 7 - The GTN Story)
Having to spend a long period in hospital, and these days anything more than a week can be considered a long time, means that there can be a lot of empty hours to fill. When that hospital is a mental hospital then one can expect to be mobile and the empty hours can seem interminable. Mental illness can make it difficult to concentrate, or to be able to do something for a long period of time. My experience of mental illness is depression and I have tried many things to deal with the hours of the day. I read, I study, I do crossword puzzles, I knit, I do embroidery and I make cards. Sometimes I can't do any of these things for more than an hour at a time and sometimes I can spend all day on one of these activities as long as I don't encounter any problems. Problems are very difficult to deal with and so I end up putting whatever it is I am doing aside until I am feeling a little better and can deal with the problem.
During my stay in hospital, life soon settled into the routine so loved of such organisations. Breakfast would be served at about 8am, meds and obs at 9am, lunch served at about 12.15pm, meds at 1pm, dinner at about 5.15pm, meds at 6pm and night-time meds at 10pm. I expect that it is pretty much the same in any hospital.
Visiting hours were 2pm to 5pm and 6.30pm to 8.30pm. The difference between visiting hours in a mental hospital and an ordinary hospital is that there are very few visitors; most patients have no-one visit them from their admission to the day that they are discharged.
So what do patients do during the rest of the empty hours in a day? Well, there are of course ward rounds, but while these may take a considerable time during the day, the patient only attends ward round for a limited time. Most of my visits to see the consultant psychiatrist and whoever else was in the room (see Tackling the Mental Health Minefield Part 6 - Throwing The Christian To The Lions) were no longer than about 10-20 minutes twice a week.
While I was on the admissions ward there was nothing organised for us to fill the empty hours. As is common to most accounts of time sent on mental wards, we were expected to spend most of our time in the communal areas. These were the TV room and the dining area/day room. During my time on the admissions ward I went in the TV room twice; both occasions being for ward meetings. The dining area/day room had tables and chairs sufficient for 12 people, but the ward could take up to 16 patients, which meant that if the ward was full it was impossible for everyone to be able to sit down together at meal times or during other periods of the day. So I spent some time in the dining area/day room particularly when I had made myself a hot drink or for meals, sometimes I would read a book or doing sudoku puzzles. I had always found sudoku puzzles impossible to do even though I understood the requirements for completing them because I have number dyslexia. However, one of the patients that I was on the admissions ward with spent time explaining how to do them and I became hooked. Most of the rest of the time I spent in my room trying to catch up on sleep that I wasn't getting at night or reading. There were no organized activities for us to take part in.
When I was on the second ward, there was an activity semi-organised for each morning (Monday to Friday) between the hours of 10-11am but these rarely took place. The two which did seem to be regular events were a session of creative writing on a Tuesday morning and a group psychology session on a Thursday morning.
The first Tuesday that I was on the ward (I had been on the ward for five days then and in hospital for two weeks) two occupational therapists approached me when I was in the main corridor of the ward walking from the laundry room with my arms full of the washing that I had just done, and tried to get me to join in with the creative writing. I took my newly laundered clothes back to my room and went to the OT room to wait for the OTs to round up any other patients who could be dragged along. They were unsuccessful, so there I was sitting in a room with two OTs and all they could suggest to me was that I might like to write about what had led to me being in hospital. Now maybe I was just being over-sensitive, but I really didn't think that was a very good thing for me to be doing at that time. So I thanked them very much and left to go back to my room to read my book.
I was absent from the ward on the following Thursday morning as a result of being on my first attempt at home leave. I arrived back on the ward at lunch time so I missed the group psychology session. The following week however, I was persuaded to join three other patients from the ward and one of the nurses at the group psychology session and spent an hour away from the ward with one of the psychologists and his trainee psychologist. Each of the patients were given time to talk about how they ended up on the ward, the other three having been present at the previous week's session they went first and then it was my turn. I was asked a number of questions which I have to admit I answered only briefly and then I was asked about my depression and how long I had been suffering from it and how I had ended up in hospital. I answered at length and what I had to say somewhat surprised the other patients who had no idea that I had been suffering for so long or that this was my first admission to hospital.
Then we began to talk about life on the ward and I raised the subject of the 'protected hour' that we were supposed to have everyday between 11am and lunch. As this is going to be the subject of another post in this series I won't go into too much detail here, but from being someone who pretty much kept to myself on the ward although I did talk with a number of the other patients, I suddenly found that I had become a spokesman for not only those patients at the group psychology session but also those who weren't.
So, at the end of this post I go back to the subtitle that I used. OT? What OT? I know that some things that traditionally come under the title of occupational therapy involve cost and money is something that seems to be in short supply in mental health services, but the significant lack of anything that could be termed as 'helpful' in making the empty hours pass more quickly for the patients was alarming. The wards had televisions, and a small supply of books, but nothing much else. The result was that some patients spent most of the time in their rooms and socialised only at meal times. It is probable that the nurses wrote up their notes on the patients on each shift and commented that the patients didn't seem to do much, but it has to be said that there really wasn't anything to do. I would have loved to be able to do some knitting, but knitting needles were not allowed on the ward. I understand that they could be used as a weapon if used in public areas, but if I was to knit in my room and return the knitting to the staff when I had finished for the time being would certainly have helped me considerably.
I was lucky: I was only in hospital for a month but by the time that I left I was desperate to do some knitting or something other than read a book and do sudoku puzzles. As far as I am concerned this is an area what definitely needs something done about it. I know that some patients probably wouldn't want to partake in anything but there are definitely some who could almost certainly be helped considerably if there was something to help to pass the time in an environment that is not always conducive to improving one's mental health.
Having to spend a long period in hospital, and these days anything more than a week can be considered a long time, means that there can be a lot of empty hours to fill. When that hospital is a mental hospital then one can expect to be mobile and the empty hours can seem interminable. Mental illness can make it difficult to concentrate, or to be able to do something for a long period of time. My experience of mental illness is depression and I have tried many things to deal with the hours of the day. I read, I study, I do crossword puzzles, I knit, I do embroidery and I make cards. Sometimes I can't do any of these things for more than an hour at a time and sometimes I can spend all day on one of these activities as long as I don't encounter any problems. Problems are very difficult to deal with and so I end up putting whatever it is I am doing aside until I am feeling a little better and can deal with the problem.
During my stay in hospital, life soon settled into the routine so loved of such organisations. Breakfast would be served at about 8am, meds and obs at 9am, lunch served at about 12.15pm, meds at 1pm, dinner at about 5.15pm, meds at 6pm and night-time meds at 10pm. I expect that it is pretty much the same in any hospital.
Visiting hours were 2pm to 5pm and 6.30pm to 8.30pm. The difference between visiting hours in a mental hospital and an ordinary hospital is that there are very few visitors; most patients have no-one visit them from their admission to the day that they are discharged.
So what do patients do during the rest of the empty hours in a day? Well, there are of course ward rounds, but while these may take a considerable time during the day, the patient only attends ward round for a limited time. Most of my visits to see the consultant psychiatrist and whoever else was in the room (see Tackling the Mental Health Minefield Part 6 - Throwing The Christian To The Lions) were no longer than about 10-20 minutes twice a week.
While I was on the admissions ward there was nothing organised for us to fill the empty hours. As is common to most accounts of time sent on mental wards, we were expected to spend most of our time in the communal areas. These were the TV room and the dining area/day room. During my time on the admissions ward I went in the TV room twice; both occasions being for ward meetings. The dining area/day room had tables and chairs sufficient for 12 people, but the ward could take up to 16 patients, which meant that if the ward was full it was impossible for everyone to be able to sit down together at meal times or during other periods of the day. So I spent some time in the dining area/day room particularly when I had made myself a hot drink or for meals, sometimes I would read a book or doing sudoku puzzles. I had always found sudoku puzzles impossible to do even though I understood the requirements for completing them because I have number dyslexia. However, one of the patients that I was on the admissions ward with spent time explaining how to do them and I became hooked. Most of the rest of the time I spent in my room trying to catch up on sleep that I wasn't getting at night or reading. There were no organized activities for us to take part in.
When I was on the second ward, there was an activity semi-organised for each morning (Monday to Friday) between the hours of 10-11am but these rarely took place. The two which did seem to be regular events were a session of creative writing on a Tuesday morning and a group psychology session on a Thursday morning.
The first Tuesday that I was on the ward (I had been on the ward for five days then and in hospital for two weeks) two occupational therapists approached me when I was in the main corridor of the ward walking from the laundry room with my arms full of the washing that I had just done, and tried to get me to join in with the creative writing. I took my newly laundered clothes back to my room and went to the OT room to wait for the OTs to round up any other patients who could be dragged along. They were unsuccessful, so there I was sitting in a room with two OTs and all they could suggest to me was that I might like to write about what had led to me being in hospital. Now maybe I was just being over-sensitive, but I really didn't think that was a very good thing for me to be doing at that time. So I thanked them very much and left to go back to my room to read my book.
I was absent from the ward on the following Thursday morning as a result of being on my first attempt at home leave. I arrived back on the ward at lunch time so I missed the group psychology session. The following week however, I was persuaded to join three other patients from the ward and one of the nurses at the group psychology session and spent an hour away from the ward with one of the psychologists and his trainee psychologist. Each of the patients were given time to talk about how they ended up on the ward, the other three having been present at the previous week's session they went first and then it was my turn. I was asked a number of questions which I have to admit I answered only briefly and then I was asked about my depression and how long I had been suffering from it and how I had ended up in hospital. I answered at length and what I had to say somewhat surprised the other patients who had no idea that I had been suffering for so long or that this was my first admission to hospital.
Then we began to talk about life on the ward and I raised the subject of the 'protected hour' that we were supposed to have everyday between 11am and lunch. As this is going to be the subject of another post in this series I won't go into too much detail here, but from being someone who pretty much kept to myself on the ward although I did talk with a number of the other patients, I suddenly found that I had become a spokesman for not only those patients at the group psychology session but also those who weren't.
So, at the end of this post I go back to the subtitle that I used. OT? What OT? I know that some things that traditionally come under the title of occupational therapy involve cost and money is something that seems to be in short supply in mental health services, but the significant lack of anything that could be termed as 'helpful' in making the empty hours pass more quickly for the patients was alarming. The wards had televisions, and a small supply of books, but nothing much else. The result was that some patients spent most of the time in their rooms and socialised only at meal times. It is probable that the nurses wrote up their notes on the patients on each shift and commented that the patients didn't seem to do much, but it has to be said that there really wasn't anything to do. I would have loved to be able to do some knitting, but knitting needles were not allowed on the ward. I understand that they could be used as a weapon if used in public areas, but if I was to knit in my room and return the knitting to the staff when I had finished for the time being would certainly have helped me considerably.
I was lucky: I was only in hospital for a month but by the time that I left I was desperate to do some knitting or something other than read a book and do sudoku puzzles. As far as I am concerned this is an area what definitely needs something done about it. I know that some patients probably wouldn't want to partake in anything but there are definitely some who could almost certainly be helped considerably if there was something to help to pass the time in an environment that is not always conducive to improving one's mental health.
Saturday, 19 September 2009
The Comfort Of The Familiar
A few days ago I wrote about adaptations of books, whether it be for film, television or the theatre. After writing the post I began to think about some of the books that I mentioned and the result has been a desire to read some of them again.
R F Delderfield's A Horseman Riding By trilogy is a story that covers the life of Paul Craddock from 1902 when he is in hospital after being shot in the leg during the Boer War until his death in 1965. It is a monumental story covering a huge part of the 20th Century and relates the impact of the major events of the period on him, his family and the tenants of the farms on the estate in Devon that he buys with part of his inheritance from his father who had died when Paul was critically ill in an English hospital following two botched operations in South Africa after he had been wounded.
As a history of a way of life that existed in this country at that time and how major events like two World Wars changed that way of life, there is probably nothing that can better it. And it doesn't detract from the history by being a fictional account of what happened during that momentous period.
So, having ordered the books from a well-known website and the arrival of two of them yesterday (fortunately one of them was the first volume) I have begun reading Paul Craddock's story again. I first read them after seeing the BBC adaptation of the first volume in the late 1970s, but they were from the library so having read them they had to be returned. Now that I am about to own all three volumes, I will be able to reread them whenever I want.
Reading has been one of the things that has comforted me over the last 11 years. It can be difficult at times, because depression can sometimes make it very difficult to concentrate. But reading something that I am already familiar with does mean that even if I don't always take in what I have been reading, I am familiar enough with the story to not lose out too much.
When you lose the most significant things in your life, the familiar can be life saving; so I shall read whenever I am able to and hope that the writer's skill as a storyteller can help to block out the things that make my life so difficult.
R F Delderfield's A Horseman Riding By trilogy is a story that covers the life of Paul Craddock from 1902 when he is in hospital after being shot in the leg during the Boer War until his death in 1965. It is a monumental story covering a huge part of the 20th Century and relates the impact of the major events of the period on him, his family and the tenants of the farms on the estate in Devon that he buys with part of his inheritance from his father who had died when Paul was critically ill in an English hospital following two botched operations in South Africa after he had been wounded.
As a history of a way of life that existed in this country at that time and how major events like two World Wars changed that way of life, there is probably nothing that can better it. And it doesn't detract from the history by being a fictional account of what happened during that momentous period.
So, having ordered the books from a well-known website and the arrival of two of them yesterday (fortunately one of them was the first volume) I have begun reading Paul Craddock's story again. I first read them after seeing the BBC adaptation of the first volume in the late 1970s, but they were from the library so having read them they had to be returned. Now that I am about to own all three volumes, I will be able to reread them whenever I want.
Reading has been one of the things that has comforted me over the last 11 years. It can be difficult at times, because depression can sometimes make it very difficult to concentrate. But reading something that I am already familiar with does mean that even if I don't always take in what I have been reading, I am familiar enough with the story to not lose out too much.
When you lose the most significant things in your life, the familiar can be life saving; so I shall read whenever I am able to and hope that the writer's skill as a storyteller can help to block out the things that make my life so difficult.
Thursday, 16 July 2009
Not Exactly A Perfect Day
After a couple of nights where I haven't slept at all well, I sort of made up for it last night although it would probably be more true to say this morning because after an early morning (5am-ish) trip to the bathroom I went back to bed and fell into a deep sleep and then slept through until lunch time. Getting some sleep has meant that I have not got deeper into depression, but neither have I felt any better.
I have been having terrible problems with my knitting over the last week or so; it has meant that I seem to have spent more time unpicking it than actively knitting. However, this afternoon I corrected the last mistake that I found and I have managed to get beyond the point where I started finding mistakes and the end is in sight. Well, when I say the end, what I really mean is that I have almost finished the charts, but I still have to decide what I am going to create as an edging and then actually knit it. I was going to adapt something from my Heirloom Knitting book (written by Sharon Miller and an absolute must-have for lace knitters) but they are all too fine for this shawl which although a lace pattern is less intricate than most would expect for something under that name. So I think I will be creating some graph paper on the computer tomorrow and trying to design something that will be suitable for myself. It will be a first for me and may actually lead to me designing a complete shawl myself.
I have become a real ER junkie over the last few weeks having started to collect the complete set of DVDs of the 15 seasons of this incredible programme. This afternoon and this evening I have been watching a few episodes as I fought with my knitting. I always seem to want to watch just one more episode, but I forced myself to switch off and I am now thinking of getting myself ready for bed and reading until my eyes get too heavy to stay open any longer. A thunderstorm started about 15 minutes ago and it sounds as though it may be rumbling around for quite a bit longer so I may be reading for quite a while as I am unlikely to fall asleep with the thunder and the pouring rain that I can hear through the open bedroom window.
Reading means a great deal to me and while I often look for new authors to read, I regularly reread books that I love. At the moment I am working my way through all seven of the Harry Potter books and last night started reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This means that I am nearing the end of the series and it will probably be another year before I start to read them again. There is so much to enjoy in these books which although intended for children are so well-written that they are a joy for adults too.
So today has not been perfect, but neither has it been too bad. I suppose that is the best that I can hope for at the moment, and the fact that I can actually sit down and write a post for my blog shows that perhaps I am not doing too badly.
I have been having terrible problems with my knitting over the last week or so; it has meant that I seem to have spent more time unpicking it than actively knitting. However, this afternoon I corrected the last mistake that I found and I have managed to get beyond the point where I started finding mistakes and the end is in sight. Well, when I say the end, what I really mean is that I have almost finished the charts, but I still have to decide what I am going to create as an edging and then actually knit it. I was going to adapt something from my Heirloom Knitting book (written by Sharon Miller and an absolute must-have for lace knitters) but they are all too fine for this shawl which although a lace pattern is less intricate than most would expect for something under that name. So I think I will be creating some graph paper on the computer tomorrow and trying to design something that will be suitable for myself. It will be a first for me and may actually lead to me designing a complete shawl myself.
I have become a real ER junkie over the last few weeks having started to collect the complete set of DVDs of the 15 seasons of this incredible programme. This afternoon and this evening I have been watching a few episodes as I fought with my knitting. I always seem to want to watch just one more episode, but I forced myself to switch off and I am now thinking of getting myself ready for bed and reading until my eyes get too heavy to stay open any longer. A thunderstorm started about 15 minutes ago and it sounds as though it may be rumbling around for quite a bit longer so I may be reading for quite a while as I am unlikely to fall asleep with the thunder and the pouring rain that I can hear through the open bedroom window.
Reading means a great deal to me and while I often look for new authors to read, I regularly reread books that I love. At the moment I am working my way through all seven of the Harry Potter books and last night started reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince. This means that I am nearing the end of the series and it will probably be another year before I start to read them again. There is so much to enjoy in these books which although intended for children are so well-written that they are a joy for adults too.
So today has not been perfect, but neither has it been too bad. I suppose that is the best that I can hope for at the moment, and the fact that I can actually sit down and write a post for my blog shows that perhaps I am not doing too badly.
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.
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.
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.
Tuesday, 24 February 2009
The Three Rs
I love reading. I learnt to read before I went to school and I have always loved getting lost in a good book. I have pretty wide-ranging tastes, and I will read books that are factual as well as enjoying fiction. One of the problems with doing distance-learning, such as that with the Open University, is that you tend to have less time for reading for leisure because you are so busy reading course material and making notes.
I have, in the last couple of weeks, decided to take a short break from studying with the OU. There were a number of reasons for my making this decision, but one of the bonuses of having done so, is that I now have time for leisure reading again. And my reading is a bit like my knitting; I like to have several things on the go at the same time. At the moment I am reading three books, two fact and one fiction. The fiction is something that I have read before (I am a great believer in revisiting books that you have enjoyed) and that is considered to be one of the nation's favourites - Pride and Prejudice. The two books based around fact are Moondust by Andrew Smith and Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. Moondust has the subtitle 'In search of the men who fell to Earth' and tells the stories of what has happened to the astronauts who walked on the Moon since their great exploits. It makes for interesting reading, and gives an insight into what has happened to those men since the heady days of the late 60s and early 70s. I remember what it was like to watch the huge Saturn V rockets blasting off to travel to the Moon and the nervous anticipation as the fragile little craft approached the Moon's surface ready for landing and the walk on an alien surface that was to follow. I have been reading this book for a couple of weeks now and I'm about halfway through it. Yesterday, Bad Science arrived in the post and I'm afraid that instead of putting it on a shelf to be read at some future time, I started reading it and now I can't put it down. I will, however, have to leave it for a few hours today while I take care of the second of the three Rs.
Writing has been something that has been an integral part of my life for a number of years. When I was working, I had to write a great deal. All of it was writing fact, although I am sure that some who read it probably thought it was fiction, but that is always the way. Writing this blog has been my way of continuing to indulge in the second R, and I love it. As I said earlier, I have taken a short break from studying with the OU, but I have already pre-registered for a course which starts in October, and I consider it to be something that I should really enjoy. I am going to study Creative Writing. The course will give me the opportunity to try several different sorts of writing and I am looking forward to all of them except one; writing poetry. That bit will undoubtedly be a bit of a strain, but I am sure that I can get through it, especially as it only represents a small part of the course.
The reason that I will have to leave Bad Science for a few hours today is that I must finish working on my lecture for Thursday. I have it pretty much written now, all I have to do is go through it, expanding a few bits that I don't think that I have explained very well and adding anything that I have forgotten, and and then I have the job of completing the PowerPoint slides to accompany it.
The third R is one of those things that I have real problems with. Arithmetic is not one of my strong suits because I suffer from number dyslexia. I managed to pass O-level Mathematics when I was at school, and I needed to use some simple maths in my working life; in fact at one point in my advanced training I got 100% for an exam that was based completely on maths (incredible as it may seem). I used to manage the maths by writing down the formula that I needed to use for the calculation and then inserting a learnt example so that I could see what the formula should look like. Then I would determine the actual numbers for each of the terms in the formula and from there I could manage to work out any of the unknowns. It was probably long-winded but it worked for me and I continued to use the method for years very successfully. Knitting, one of my favourite leisure pastimes, does require one to count things occasionally. This is easy stuff and doesn't bother me at all. However, I love knitting lace and that does require a bit more than a simple ability to count, because if you are trying to scale up or scale down a design you need to be able to work out the number of stitches to the inch that you require and the size of needle to achieve this. Then there is the problem of having to work out how to decrease or increase a set number of stitches evenly across a row. I find that I can do this all relatively easily these days but I do remember the problems that I have had in the past.
The Victorians set great store on the three Rs and I can understand why. The ability to read, to write, and to do arithmetic meant that you could improve your position in life. The same is true today, but they can do more than just help you to get on. The three Rs have proved to be things that have allowed me to have an enjoyable leisure time too.
I have, in the last couple of weeks, decided to take a short break from studying with the OU. There were a number of reasons for my making this decision, but one of the bonuses of having done so, is that I now have time for leisure reading again. And my reading is a bit like my knitting; I like to have several things on the go at the same time. At the moment I am reading three books, two fact and one fiction. The fiction is something that I have read before (I am a great believer in revisiting books that you have enjoyed) and that is considered to be one of the nation's favourites - Pride and Prejudice. The two books based around fact are Moondust by Andrew Smith and Bad Science by Ben Goldacre. Moondust has the subtitle 'In search of the men who fell to Earth' and tells the stories of what has happened to the astronauts who walked on the Moon since their great exploits. It makes for interesting reading, and gives an insight into what has happened to those men since the heady days of the late 60s and early 70s. I remember what it was like to watch the huge Saturn V rockets blasting off to travel to the Moon and the nervous anticipation as the fragile little craft approached the Moon's surface ready for landing and the walk on an alien surface that was to follow. I have been reading this book for a couple of weeks now and I'm about halfway through it. Yesterday, Bad Science arrived in the post and I'm afraid that instead of putting it on a shelf to be read at some future time, I started reading it and now I can't put it down. I will, however, have to leave it for a few hours today while I take care of the second of the three Rs.
Writing has been something that has been an integral part of my life for a number of years. When I was working, I had to write a great deal. All of it was writing fact, although I am sure that some who read it probably thought it was fiction, but that is always the way. Writing this blog has been my way of continuing to indulge in the second R, and I love it. As I said earlier, I have taken a short break from studying with the OU, but I have already pre-registered for a course which starts in October, and I consider it to be something that I should really enjoy. I am going to study Creative Writing. The course will give me the opportunity to try several different sorts of writing and I am looking forward to all of them except one; writing poetry. That bit will undoubtedly be a bit of a strain, but I am sure that I can get through it, especially as it only represents a small part of the course.
The reason that I will have to leave Bad Science for a few hours today is that I must finish working on my lecture for Thursday. I have it pretty much written now, all I have to do is go through it, expanding a few bits that I don't think that I have explained very well and adding anything that I have forgotten, and and then I have the job of completing the PowerPoint slides to accompany it.
The third R is one of those things that I have real problems with. Arithmetic is not one of my strong suits because I suffer from number dyslexia. I managed to pass O-level Mathematics when I was at school, and I needed to use some simple maths in my working life; in fact at one point in my advanced training I got 100% for an exam that was based completely on maths (incredible as it may seem). I used to manage the maths by writing down the formula that I needed to use for the calculation and then inserting a learnt example so that I could see what the formula should look like. Then I would determine the actual numbers for each of the terms in the formula and from there I could manage to work out any of the unknowns. It was probably long-winded but it worked for me and I continued to use the method for years very successfully. Knitting, one of my favourite leisure pastimes, does require one to count things occasionally. This is easy stuff and doesn't bother me at all. However, I love knitting lace and that does require a bit more than a simple ability to count, because if you are trying to scale up or scale down a design you need to be able to work out the number of stitches to the inch that you require and the size of needle to achieve this. Then there is the problem of having to work out how to decrease or increase a set number of stitches evenly across a row. I find that I can do this all relatively easily these days but I do remember the problems that I have had in the past.
The Victorians set great store on the three Rs and I can understand why. The ability to read, to write, and to do arithmetic meant that you could improve your position in life. The same is true today, but they can do more than just help you to get on. The three Rs have proved to be things that have allowed me to have an enjoyable leisure time too.
Tuesday, 21 October 2008
An Early Start To The Day
Yes, it is barely 6am and I have already written an email, sorted out my books for a bit of studying, attached the earphones to my iPod (I need it to listen to some items for the chapter I am reading in the course book), switched on my laptop (okay, so I did that before I wrote the email), and got myself into a comfortable position in bed so that I can spend a couple of hours studying before I get myself ready to face the day and go out to do some shopping.
The reason that I am doing these things so early in the morning, is that I went to bed early last night, fell asleep almost immediately and had nine hours sleep before waking this morning. I'm still yawning every so often, but I feel a bit brighter than I have for several days.
So some early morning studying, followed by a quick trip to the shops, means that I should be able to please myself about how I spend the rest of the day. It will probably be some time spent reading, and more time spent with the knitting. Yes, I know that it isn't a very exciting existence, but it is manageable and I do feel as though I am achieving something each day. And sometimes just surviving the day can be an achievement in itself.
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