I have romantic notions about how I should be living my life. Curling up in front of an open fire with my laptop after having had a shower, all calm and chilled and wasting a little time before heading to bed at 10.30pm every night meaning I am well rested for work.
Reality: Hot fecking mess, that’s what it is! and without the open fire.
I stupidly thought that perhaps life was returning to some kind of normality and that maybe I was too. You see I’m trying to get everything done, get the house sorted, get me sorted, and then life will be good right!? Wrong…it’s still a bloody disaster.
I had a couple of days off this week, another chance to de clutter and finally move from one bedroom to the other, as my current one needs redecorated thanks to the mouldy 20 odd year old wallpaper. Day one progressed not too bad, I got things done. That said every time I opened a cupboard there was just more ‘stuff’. I mean there is stuff on top of stuff, covered with stuff that’s hiding even more stuff. Trust me, it’s depressing stuff! Thanks Mothership, your legacy lives on. That said, there were tears throughout the day too as I came across a variety of photographs that brought back memories, some happy and some sad.
I ended day one feeling hopeful. Hopeful that there was one cupboard cleared, under the bed in the guest room had been de gunked and that I might finally have finished this mammoth task by 2018. In order to make that time scale however I might have to call in reinforcements in the form of the Sistership, I think this is too big a task for a one man band.
Day Two. I woke up. My head hurt. Another fecking migraine. You have got to be kidding me. I never left the sofa all day, anything I tried to eat returned with a vengeance and I didn’t even make it out to vote. Illness has followed me like a lovesick puppy since my Mum died, I have never been sick so often in my entire life. Colds, flu like symptoms, crippling migraines, has no one told my body I am supposed to be under less stress now ffs. I’m still not feeling great and that was 3 days ago.
Since the start of the year I have tried to be better to myself. Instead it’s left me feeling worse and yes before you say it I know, this is probably just a phase and things will get better. You all think my body is trying to catch up on the last four years and you’re probably right, but I am mightily sick of being sick!
I’m 65 days, 11 hours, 53 minutes and 14s smoke free as I type this. Don’t worry, I’m not that anal that I can count the days in my head, I’m not that good at maths either. I have an App for that. I’ve made changes to my diet, I keep an eye on my blood pressure and I’ve substituted crisps (I miss you so much little crisps, never forget me) for nuts, which are apparently good fats and not the bad ones. All this, and still I feel like shit. Seems kinda unfair right!? Yeah I think so too.
Sensible me knows that change doesn’t happen overnight and I have four years to make up for, so I am determined to soldier on. I need to remind myself that everything does not have to be done all at once. I need to stop beating myself up when I let other people down due to being sick, I can’t help being sick and worrying about it only increases the stress. For the last four years I lived off a schedule where everything had to be done there and then and I am finding it hard to break that habit.
Things will be done when they are done. If not today, then there is always tomorrow. I just need to drum that into my thick skull!