I’m clean!

Having changed out of fetid pyjamas, showered and brushed my teeth, I’m back in the realm of daylight and a whiff of fresh air. 

While I’m happy to be more functioning, the more that I do, be it washing myself, eating, doing chores or whatever, the more  that I’m forced to confront how bad things are for me right now. Uh oh, there goes that guilt again that I spoke of in my last post .. I’m moaning/whining/being pathetic. I should think myself lucky, shut up and get on with it or, at the very least, seek to justify my every thought and action. Ho hum, I’ll try to ignore that.

Yesterday’s second dishwasher load has been unloaded, load number three is on the go and those few items that require handwashing are bathing in hot soapy water. I’ve stripped my bed, organised some paperwork for shredding, rinsed some items for recycling, and dealt with a pile of post.I’ve rested periodically, vital ‘spoonie‘ pacing, to try to avoid crashing and burning. Although, I’m sensing that the more I gather momentum the more I feel an urge to keep going and so resist the need to rest.

I’m now munching on some of last night’s banana loaf. Next I’ll wipe the kitchen work surfaces, do a quick swish and swipe in the bathroom and remake my bed, …then I’ll flop for a bit with BBC Radio iPlayer.

Thursday into Friday

Good morning 🙂 

I’m feeling positively breezy this morning but I think I may finally have learned not to get swept along by my need to be positive, and to understand that my current ‘breezy’ is a long way from the ‘breezy norm’. 

Any improvement, however slight, on being locked into the fog of dissociation with only terror and desolation for company is wondrous. That ‘wondrousness’ is  a bit of blighter actually because it can leave me feeling guilty, that things are not so bad after all and that I certainly ought not to be requiring, or even less, seeking any help. 

I grew up believing that I wasn’t suffering at all, despite experiencing appalling trauma and abuse. I notice that as I wrote those words I felt a twinge of guilt that made me cringe. Was it really so appalling? Am I exaggerating? I say that as someone who aged nine witnessed one parent actually trying to murder the other and, while still a child, lost a parent to suicide on my birthday. Those are but two of many more examples that I could give. 

I grew up with that belief partly because these events were given no more significance than a broken fingernail in terms of their impact on me, by those around me. It was also drummed into me that I had it so good and that there were so many people in the world worse off than me. Consequently, I can struggle with the distorted perception that if someone, anyone, is worse off than me then I am not struggling/suffering/in need and should just ‘get on with it’. 

Yesterday, I made and ate a plain omelette,  ran two dishwasher loads – making a sizeable dent in the accumulated kitchen ‘crisis detritus’ – ate some kidney beans with tomato, black pepper and cumin, and, when late yesterday evening hunger was still a problem but food was scarce, a bashed together a banana loaf which, despite being missing a couple of ingredients, turned out to be my tastiest yet. 

I also took the huge step of introducing my oldest friend to this blog, *waves hello to her*, and thoroughly enjoyed watching the final of the Great Pottery Throwdown. Although, I’ll be experiencing withdrawal symptoms now it and the Great Big Painting Challenge have both concluded this week! 

Today I will be focused on cleaning myself up (a far greater task than it may sound) and receiving a supermarket delivery of some groceries this evening. I hope to work on a significant blog post. It may prove challenging to compose but I believe the benefits of doing so will outweigh the challenges. 

Eating Insoles

Since I posted Terror earlier this evening, or rather yesterday evening as I’ve just spotted as I write that it’s 12:01am, I’ve ventured into my kitchen, consumed a catarrh pastille, made up a large jug of powdered skimmed milk in the absence of any fresh, taken my daily medication for my digestive disorder, written and published a second blog post and fiddled about with some of my blog settings. 

Said catarrh pastille was rather pleasant, at least in the context of I’ve failed to clean my teeth for almost two weeks, I haven’t eaten or drunk amything in at least 24hrs, my mouth is like the bottom of the proverbial budgie’s cage … this pastille is nectar! 

Said meds should be taken first thing every morning, at least 20 minutes before I have anything to eat or drink. My usually highly organised routine went out the window as crisis took hold and continued to deepen. 

The powered skimmed milk is entirely palatable. That is except in tea or coffee, alas. It will be far more enjoyable than the Sainsbury’s ‘Basics’ Cornflakes which I’m about to pour some of it over. They taste rather like I imagine the insole of a shoe might taste … 

I’ve smiled more than once while writing this post. I amuse myself if not others 😉 . But, to be serious, I haven’t been able to smile in quite some while. I am aware that those very real terrors have not diminished let alone gone away, and that desolation still lurks with terrible menace, as though it were ready to pounce and suffocate the life out of me.

It seems that this evening since writing that first post, I’ve managed to make a space in the fog to just be for the time being. 

Inspired by an earlier commenter, I’ve also delved into my bedside drawers to retrieve this lavender sachet – a one-time gift – and am ‘partaking of its aroma’ at intervals!

I did it!! (Day 1 of The Rest of My Life – Part 2)

 

It’s out!

After trying to cram my usual three hours of bowel shenanigans due to my digestive disorder into a far tighter schedule … then contending with a bout of vertigo, triggered by bending over to unplug my straighteners, that left me nauseous and staggering as though I were aboard a ship on a turbulent ocean … I reached the dental hospital with five minutes to spare … time for another trip to the loo 😀 !

My appointment took around 50 minutes and I was looked after very well by the attending dentist, assistant (dental student), supervisor and dental nurse; it’s a teaching hospital.

Despite having heaps of local anaesthetic and I do mean heaps – the initial doses and two further top ups – I lost count but something like eight or nine injections in total, I still had some pain. It was bearable – like bad sensitivity – except for one mercifully momentary movement. The wisdom tooth was a stubborn beast and there was grinding, cutting, stitching and rather a lot of blood. At the moment it was declared ‘out’, I truly wanted to whoop with sheer joy. I am so glad to be rid of the thing that gave me pain, caused smelly breath and eroded my confidence.

This is such a milestone. I am so delighted to have achieved it. I’ll write more at a later date about the earlier part of this week and the experiences I endured and why I am so incredibly proud of myself for achieving this after what has been a terrible time. I am exultant 😀 .

I feel confident that I’ve conquered my dental phobia having coped with numerous examinations, X rays, a filling, a difficult root extraction that involved removing a piece of bone, and now the extraction of a very troublesome wisdom tooth. I am two thirds of the  way along the road to restore my smile. A smile that was robbed by the childhood abuse that caused my extreme dental phobia and a long battle with self neglect due to severe depressive illness. I am grateful for the professionalism and compassion of my new dentist and the staff at my local dental hospital.

Day 1 of the Rest of My Life

I have an appointment at the local dental hospital at 9:15 this morning to have a wisdom tooth extracted.

This is cause for great celebration as reclaiming my smile after a lengthy battle with self neglect due to depression and a dental phobia ignited by the childhood abuse that I experienced. This appointment is not without its challenges not least the difficulties of such an early start when you’re a #spoonie and a potentially more challenging recovery for the same reasons, still I plan to celebrate being rid of this smelly, infected, horribly positioned beast at long last!