Day 156 – The dress from the states
I was sent this dress by a lovely woman some time ago but I have been saving it for a sunny day. Her name is Genevieve Ormon and she is from the east coast of America. The dress is beautiful and even though I have been having a blue week I forced myself to show the frock a good time and brought it to Abbey Park in Leicester for a picnic. In the spirit of the states, my sister and I went skating round the park which is a little scary when one is bare of pads and without socks. We had mixed reaction to our skates; though a lot of children seemed to like them I rather offended the cricket players who were happily bowling and batting away until I rolled on past the oval.
It wasn’t entirely my fault, my sister is far faster than me and in the interests of sisterly competition I was doing my damnedest to catch up. Unfortunately I forgot that I am actually quite dreadful on four wheels and as I begin to lose my balance I shriek like a child terrified that I would topple backwards.
In the letter sent to me by the lovely Genevieve, whose name is really quite beautiful she quoted a passage by Lewis Carroll. I follow Genevieve on twitter and along with Rebecca Allison the two are some of the greatest tweeters around. Insightful, intelligent women their updates will often stay in my thoughts for hours.
“Be who you are,” said the Duchess to Alice, “or, if you would like it put more simply, never try to be what you might have been or could have been other than what you should have been.”
Lewis Carroll 1865
If you are on twitter, check out Genevieve and Alice at:
Day 155 – The arrival
I have so much admiration for those that go for months without seeing their partners. Three days without the boy and I am on the verge of jumping in the car and heading up to Manchester and back within a night. I hate clock watching but there’s something about knowing he is on the train on his way down that has me checking the box in the right hand corner every twenty minutes. Though I have to pay a fortune for parking and abandon my new approach to driving based on the principles of karma and genuine goodwill I make it to the train station in time to not only collect him but to also meet him off of the platform.
We head to our local for the first time since I acted like a glee crazed cocktail fuelled diva on my birthday. As I am still fairly embarrassed about my behaviour I try to hide behind a boulder but today’s dress is bright and billowing and my skirts are seen. I come forward to apologise and the ripping I receive is kindly lighter than what I deserve with no mention of my late night nap on the couch.
I am trying hard to be a better girlfriend and I do my best to keep the moaning to a minimum. Though I’ve been a wreck the past couple of days I have been trying to keep it from the boy as I don’t know how much more of this he can take. I know I am sick of it so surely he must be getting to the stage where he is feeling the same way. We have the house to ourselves and a weekend ahead of us so I stick with the positives and pray that this will be the time when the tablets finally start to work.
- Today’s dress is a generous loan from Sinead Kenny. It was probably a little fancy for the office but I woke up very late and had no time for office appropriate selection. It is originally from Warehouse and I am rather pleased as an elderly lady actually stops me as I totter to top up the parking fees to tell me she likes my shoe, belt and dress combination.
Day 154 – Don’t panic
I need a distraction, something to bring me out of my head a little. The house is emptier than yesterday but my brother who is still about suggests the Sopranos. Although I am not a big television person, my attention levels are so low by the time I am home that I can only read books a chapter at a time and due to the excessive tear situation, going for a drink is not really an option. I can just about bare to let the family see me fall apart but in bars there are rules about tears which should not be broken until at least 1am.
It is a good series and though there is a lot of psychiatry, tablets and troubles of the head kind they are happening to a man who is head of a Mafia so it all feels thankfully far removed from my own situation. One thing however triggers a memory and though it is long ago in the past I can’t help but consider it.
For those of you who have not watched the series, it begins when the lead character, Tony Soprano suffers a panic attack and is referred to a psychiatrist. The makers have clearly done their research because Tony, though the acting boss of a crime ring experiences these attacks in the normal way. At first he is convinced there is something physically wrong with him, a heart attack, a stroke or the beginnings of cancer. He has after all blacked out, could not get his breath and just before it began he saw little white spots. Though I have been a fainter for years the first time you have a panic attack you know there is something different and though it is an often repeated fact, you genuinely believe that you are going to die.
I think how people cope with an attack after the fact has a lot to do with the way you are treated and how much is explained. As well as being a frightening experience it can also be incredibly embarrassing. Coming round from an attack to see people in a tizz themselves because they have no idea what is going on can be humiliating especially when it is your first and you yourself have no idea what has happened. There is also the painful point after you find out when you must explain to others what went on.
The first time it happened to me I ended up at a hospital with people shouting things like code blue. I blacked out several times and by the time I properly came round I was lying on a small bed in a referral room with the boy wondering what the hell had happened. The trouble is that for medical staff these attacks are common, they see a lot of them and as it is something which for the short term can be treated with a paper bag it is no doubt a bit of a pain as it takes them away from people who really need care. Not that panic attacks do not deserve recognition or treatment. They can occur to anyone at any time in any place and can lead to other problems such as increased anxiety and trouble socialising.
What I found difficult when I came round was that though they did explain what had happened they had no idea why. The nurse was a complete meanie and though I thought it was my perception the boy agreed and said he felt like making a complaint. At the time I had lost a lot of weight and perhaps the reason I got so scared when the attack started was I was worried the two were linked. It left me so shaken that though it was Christmas time and I had been socialising around the clock, after it happened I was afraid of going out in case it happened again. There were several more attacks, one when the boy and I were at his University when I fell to the floor in the corridor, others where I was just in the house or in the back seat of a car.
Though the attack occurred when I was a bit skinny otherwise I was fine. Afterwards though I spiralled and by the time January came round I was struggling to leave the house at all. I had an appointment at the job centre to see if I was eligible for job seekers and going down there made me so afraid that I started having an attack as I waited. The attacks eventually stopped but by the time they did my anxiety levels had soared sky high and I struggled socially so much that for weeks my mobile stayed in a drawer and I moved away from everyone. By the time the attacks stopped the depression had kicked in and in the time before bipolar the diagnosis was anxiety disorder with depression.
I came out of it in the end, though it took a lot of walks and trial runs at the social scene eventually I was able to go out without worrying the whole time about a collapse but it was a frightening time and even though he is not real and a bit of a bad man I feel for this Mr Soprano and anyone else who has felt the fear of those white lights.
- The dress was sent over to me from one of my lovely Irish aunts, auntie Bridgeen McDaid. It is from Primark’s oversea’s collection and its little capped sleeves saved me from getting thrown out of court today when I turned up without a jacket.
Day 153 – Hide and go seek
It is much easier to hide away from people when you live alone. Though it may not have been doing me much good, the past few days have been simpler because with everyone away I’ve only had to keep it together during the working day. I have become a master of pushing it to the back of my mind and whilst at work I keep it together so I can do the job. Come the second I walk out the double doors though it comes back to me, filling my head with horrible thoughts which seep through my mind like a poison. By the time I am home I’m lacking, exhausted and though most of the time I try to avoid diving into my bed the second I get in sleep is all I feel good for.
The past couple of days the house has been empty so I have been free to spend my evenings falling to pieces in private. Everyone has come back however and there’s no more hiding how bad things have become, it’s there in their eyes. My mother does her best to bring me out of it but there are people here who know me and its hard to hide it any more and all the despair of the past few days comes flooding out. I hate myself as our relatives have come round and here I am a woman who can not keep it together, crying like a child on the new couch. I am desperate to disappear to my room so I can just give up on the day but when there are others around it seems a bit obscene going to bed at half seven so I stay up.
We are all at a loss for why things are still so bad; the wonder tablets were meant to kick in after a couple of days and it has been eight. In the end we call for help but all they can say is that switching tablets is a mind field and their assurance is so minimal that my mother considers staying at home instead of going away the next day.
Earlier today, when I was still in work mode, my sister messaged me to say did I want to do something. Though I am trying to burrow underground she is determined to bring light into my tunnel whether I want it or not. She suggests skating in the park and at the time when I say yes I do mean it but by the time I am ten steps closer to home my mind has changed, anxiety kicks in and I am already trying to back out of it. She comes over anyway and though we don’t skate we sit on my bed like we used to when we were kids and have a chat. I am in tears because I can not explain why the nights are so bad but she believes its because I am using all my energy to make it through the day leaving me more of a wreck by night. The quit word is in the air, but I don’t want to hear it or say it because if I give up on this there would be no going back and perhaps, just maybe there is still a little bit of me left that believes things could get better.
- Today’s dress is from Dorothy Perkins. The photos were taken on a different day though the dress was worn for day 153. It is another which arrived in this week’s package from the MD. It is extremely pretty and though I feel rather rubbish I abandoned the mascara for the day to try to avoid tear staining what is a lovely leaf centred summer frock.
Day 152 – Lonely Tuesdays
Its hard to know what’s best to do when your not feeling great. Is it better to visit friends or just go with what your head seems to want and be by yourself? I guess the problem is I’m not the best of company at the moment, alone or otherwise and when I’m around people I feel guilty because I don’t want to be bringing them down.
Once I must have been okay but it is getting harder to remember when that was and it leaves me hopeless. I do not understand it but I need it to lift because I am running out of ways to raise up. I am trying to get better, there are the pills of course but there are other methods which I am trying to pursue. I have books, websites and am even giving positive visualisations a go. It is tiring but if I don’t get better I’m all out of choices and the only option then is best not to think on too much.
- Today’s frock is from Tu. Another kind donation by the mysterious dress donor. When I got home there was another package from her along with a letter which the girls and I tried to decipher. The girls thought it might be the boy but he hates shopping and is terrible at secret keeping. Perhaps I need to re-examine the possible suspects or look into getting a private postal detection service.
Day 151 – The frilly frock
The boy took today’s photos in the front garden of his home which he is soon to leave. He might be moving to a flat next year which would be a shame as he loves the outdoors and we would miss being able to lie out on our own grass but at least it will provide a new setting for the pictures.
My lovely friend Elly Keay who lives in London sent me this dress along with two others. This one is from ASOS and you can tell that she knows me well as it is in my favourite colour, has frills and is as short as they come. I didn’t dare wear it for work but its perfect for the weekend. I was going to wear it today as I was meant to meet her for breakfast but I wasn’t well and so I didn’t go. She understands but I wish she didn’t have to.
