Christmas, Christmas and Christmas again

Christmas, Christmas and Christmas again. Sounds fun when I say we had Christmas on 25th, 26th and 28th of December this year.

25th, home, just the two of us.
26th, down to see my family, bout 150 miles away.
28th, all tch's family came to us, 17 of us this year.

Now I simple can't tell you how tired I am. As a depressive I don't do much and don't leave the house much either. I'm still coping with the whole puppy poo thing. Don't misunderstand me, it was lovely to see everyone. There's just so much to do. It looks so easy, we put the food out buffet style and everyone helps themselves. I've hurt my back, that probably accounts for me finding it all so hard.

Lovely Christmas tho. Totally different in both places. At my family's everything is done properly. Small children have become used to this and know they are expected to be fairly quiet and very well behaved. You will use a serviette, know your place and wait obligingly while someone else gives your presents out. In our house, everyone sits wherever they want to. In fact there's not enough seats when they all pile into one room, so it's every man for himself then. We do a game every year where each person opens a drawer of our coffee table to find a little gift inside. Our living room is not big enough for 17 people and definitely not big enough for the 21 that we usually are. It's very squashed up, but great fun. This year the gift was egg cups, seemed to go down alright.  Once they've all taken food from the buffet, find a seat wherever you can. For some reason everyone stayed in the kitchen/diner. Bit cramped but I liked it, I had a chance to speak to everyone.

Now that it's all over, I am so, so glad to be able to relax. Tch has gone out for about 2 hours and I've had a bit of a tidy up. Puppies are still doing the 'run around outside but come back in to pee' thing. Bless. Arrrgh!

I think I've coped with Christmas, my family, tch's family, chatting, listening and responding very well this year. I'm calm and didn't allow anything to upset me.

Well, I've rambled on a lot in this posting. I'm sorry it's not been about much, and with no real point discussed. Maybe that's the way my head is at the moment. I shall make it more interesting, honest.

I wish you all a healthy and happy New Year. If we can achieve those things, then everything else will follow 😊

I still miss her when I'm ironing

That's the cat again, sorry. When I would put up the ironing board she would always squawk at me, wanting attention. Her bed was nearby. I still expect to hear her.

My post today is not about missing her, it's about the way she lived her life. It's a lesson for us all, I think.

From the first day I had her as a little kitten, Katie was afraid of everything and hissed and spit at anything that came close to her. She had rare moments when she would allow me to stroke her, and then only on the top of her head. Anywhere else and you can look out!

As the only pet in the house, besides a budgie, she had full run of the place and would sleep on the end of the bed, sometimes. As a young cat she would come when I called most of the time. We moved house and she coped with that, grudgingly. Still was fearful of everything and hissed at it all.

My point? I'm getting there, honest.

If you live your life fearful of everything around you, and if you 'hiss and spit' at anything that comes near you, then you will not have a life. Rather, life will pass you by. Your life will never be enriched by laughter and friends. You will never know the joy of companionship or the happiness that comes from doing something for others. If you live your life into old age, still fearful, still 'spitting', then you will have accomplished nothing and experienced only fear.

Big words. I acknowledge that I live more like Katie at the moment. I don't go out of the house very often, I don't answer the phone and I certainly don't socialise unless I have to. But I can see the errors in this, I can see that my life would be so much better if I could move in a different direction.

My lovely Katie didn't have much of a life, she was so frightened by it. Here's a good point - she was unable to tell if another cat/dog was trying to make friends with her, she saw only something to be afraid of, something that wanted to attack her. So she missed out on having a companion to live with, when her life could have been so much better had she been able to befriend the other cat/dog. Make friends, try to be more comfortable around others, they are not going to bite you. Probably.

Depression is a bitch. The medication, the anti-depressants, are the crutch to help you to get back into life. They are not the cure. They will lift your mood sufficiently to enable you to begin the business of getting back to your life. But do it one step at a time, baby steps, little steps.

Little steps was probably the best piece of advice ever given to me by a healthcare professional. I was becoming very anxious that I was expected to jump straight back into life and I knew that I couldn't cope. Little steps are manageable little chunks, whatever works for you really.

I'm really tired now, so I'll talk about this some more another time x

Well she had a good run...

She was my cat. Thought I'd better put that up there first, she wasn't a person.  My Katie died the day before yesterday, and I'm so sad about it. I really, really, really don't like it when anyone says 'well, she had a good run'. I've heard people say this when a person dies very old. It's like I'm not supposed to be sad because of it. If your Granny dies at 98, you shouldn't be sad because she's 'had a good run'?!  And another thing... 'he's had a good innings'... give me strength! If this is the only thing you have to say, then say nothing. Please.

Back to my Katie, she was about 3 weeks away from being 20yrs old. Careful now. Don't say it. When she was well she was a fairly big fluffy girl. Hold on, I shall try to find a photo for you.

There we are, a little pic of her sunbathing one summer and one of her looking really well and healthy. That's the way to remember her.

If you're not a pet, you won't understand this. I haven't had any children of my own (long story, let's not go there today) and my pets are part of my family. When my ex-husband left me, Katie was a big part of my life. I came home from work every day to a cold empty house and she would be there. Aside from the fact that I also had a budgie in a cage which Katie thought was her packed lunch.

I've had a tough couple of months. Can't put my finger on anything that's caused it, but depression is like that. Sudden slides into melancholy, with no reason or rhyme.

I guess there's one reason, maybe. Every day constantly cleaning up the pee and poo of 2 little puppies. They are gorgeous, loving, playful and I love 'em to bits, but So. Much. Poo. You would never believe how much mess they can create. We have puppy pads, big square sheets of quilted paper, for them to use. So it goes like this:

Me:     You like to pee just here, I'll put a pad down for you to use.
Pupps: Look! She's put this paper thing right where I like to pee. I'll have to find              somewhere else now!

This happens over and over again 😧

They are lovely though, and this stage won't last forever. It's hard to toilet train them to go out in the garden when this time of year is cold, wet and gets dark so early. They don't want to go there then, and I can't say I blame them. We'll get there though. As a depressive, it's hard to face this big clean up first thing every morning. Although tch will have cleaned up once before he went to work, he will also have fed them... which means more lovely poo. When I go down to them I'm trying to clean up the poo and the pee whilst they are throwing themselves at me in joy and probably jumping through the mess as they do it. Focus on the joy. Focus on the joy. I'm sitting in my bed writing to you and it's 9am. Soon I must venture forth into the land of funny smells, to do battle.

There's another thing, the puppy smell. I'm not talking about the lovely aromas that emanate from the back end. The smell of a puppy's neck is one of the most wonderful smells in the world. Aside from the mass clean-ups these two have been fantastic for my mental health. I will just be glad when I don't have to cope with the mess all day long.

I showed you a photo of a now-dead cat, so here's a more cheerful one of 'the girls'.

 This was a couple of weeks after we had them in September. Two and a half months later and they are a fair bit bigger. The shorter one's a staffordshire bull terrier and the taller one's an Italian greyhound. I love this photo though. I'll try to find a more up to date one to show you another day.

My thought to end this entry is something I said earlier: it won't last forever. So when you're having a shit day and maybe it feels like everything is going wrong, try to think 'it won't last forever'. It sometimes helps me.

LoadsaLove x

Why am I here?

I sometimes wonder why I'm still here. Not entirely in a suicidal way, just simply why? There are so many other things I could be doing, places I could be going. My mental health dictates that I remain here, at home, away from scary things like... fresh air and the like. I must stay in, not go out.

My apologies, this entry rambles a bit. Brain is fried.

I have cut myself off from social media sites, hard to specify why. I think I felt obliged to join in, much as one would at a party, and I cannot cope there. Amazingly I don't miss it, considering I was on facebook and messenger every day previously. Mostly to thc's family, no-one on my side uses it very much. I have this need to switch off from everything. To silence everything.

I have two little ones to care for at the mo. They're two little puppies, about 2 months old now, I think. One has health problems, I think she came from a puppy farm. One of those you hear about, that does  not treat them well. She was full of worms when she came to us and now she walks funny. The vet said she might have the canine form of spina bifida. She doesn't know though, and happily waddles about trying to keep up with the other one. Let me see if I can find you a photo of them...

There, this is my favourite photo of them. They're a bit bigger now as this was taken 2 weeks ago. Yes they are very cute, but you would not believe how much mess they can create. They poo and pee more than they eat/drink, I'm sure of it!

I have hurt my back (again) a couple of days ago. It has been very difficult to clean up after them properly. They are gorgeous... when they're asleep. Preferably on me as well. Do you know what a puppy pad is? It's a large square of quilted paper for them to pee on. We are nearing the end of our 3rd box of 100 pads. I think I'm nearing the end of my rope as well!  They do the occasional pee on a pad, but most of the time they treat them as markers for where not to go!

I had an annual review this week with my mental health worker and her boss. They were more interested in the puppies. See, I think it's a very bad sign for me to be cutting myself off and wanting nothing to do with anyone. Isn't it the first stage of having suicidal feelings? Maybe I'm wrong. I'm the only one worried about it. I have an annual review with the psych next month, deep joy.

There was a reunion held recently of folk that I used to work with 30 years ago. I couldn't make myself go. I was so disappointed. One lady had travelled down from Lancs. We used to be very close, but I didn't go.

Well I'm going to say bye now, tch will be home in a minute.

Stay safe peeps xxx

I'd fall for you.

Well, yes, I would. Okay, well I fell over today. In public. Beside a main road. Humiliating or what. Thankfully I wasn't on my own, and tch was able to haul me up again to a more vertical position. I had been so intent on commenting about a lovely old building across the road that I wasn't looking where I was putting my feet... and crash. Or thump morelike. A car even stopped to offer assistance. Warning, beached whale lying on the pavement. I am not sporting the beginnings of two fabulous bruises on my knees. Ouchy.

Christmas came and went. The main day was lovely, just the two of us. Life was manic the next day with all of tch's children and grandchildren coming. We were 21 that day. I had a really really bad stress reaction shortly afterwards. On Boxing Day 26th I was reasonably okay. I could feel my anxiety levels rising and couldn't think straight to accomplish anything. I was trying to make a  few cups of tea and was dropping everything, very shaky. I took myself off upstairs to the quiet and stood with my head out the bedroom window for a few minutes. I find that calms me. There's something about the cold air that helps me. I thought I'd be fine after that, and it seemed that I was. The 26th was Tuesday. On Weds I slept a lot, almost the whole day. Again, not unusual for me as any activity involving people will wear me out with the whole adrenaline thing. During the night I awoke feeling very nauseous and had to rush to the bathroom. I don't know about you but I will do almost anything to avoid being sick. I hate it. That night I must have had 7 or 8 bouts of vomiting. I've never brushed my teeth so many times in one night. I felt truly awful all day Thurs and that night as well. It was Sunday before I could really say I was feeling better. On a positive note, I lost almost a stone. I've put most of it back on now though, I was probably dehydrated.

I know what caused it. Stress and anxiety. I've had it before, many times, but not as bad as this for many years. It was having the family here, plus I took on doing something that tch always does. I was therefore anxious this task went well and was a success, but I don't think it was.

The way I would describe it is to ask you to remember when you watched a scary/exciting film. Think of the part where your heart is in yo.ur mouth, you're on the edge of your seat. Now that feeling will go away shortly afterwards, but imagine if it stayed with you, and you can't stop it getting more intense. It's exhausting. It's a feeling that is hard to communicate to people, because the natural response is for them to tell you to calm down, not to worry about it. This doesn't work when you can't do that.

The last time I had it this bad was 12 years ago. This was a time when I felt that I'd put myself in a position where I simply should not have been there. There wasn't anything to be done about it and I just had to cope with it. I won't bore you with it, long story. The end result was the same though. 2 days later and I was vomiting so much I couldn't stand.

Gradually I am learning about my stress levels and most times I cope with it. This latest one has really been a doozy though.