I needed to paint. I needed to just go outside and paint, and I did. I started a painting before lockdown and I just sort of lost interest. It still sits on the shelf in my dining room, a head in a field with no body. It is supposed to be a fox but Mark says it looks more like a cat. You know I don’t do animals.
I had that melt down on Saturday, the real one, the one that I have been waiting for, for the last three weeks. Saturday it hit like a tornado, picked me up, tossed me about a bit a flung me as far away from reality as was clearly possible. I looked for the Red shoes to get home, honestly I did, but when I found there was no yellow brick road to follow, no munchkins to sing me merrily on my way and no tin man nor lion to help me, I settled for giving up. It’s not a crime, I won’t die at the hands of the motivation police and sod the “you’re strong than that brigade.” Give up, take a rest, relax, self-care, whatever you would like to call it, do it.
I’m still working and I have lost a couple of my charges under these circumstances. But I’ve found friendship, and laughter and a sense of belonging. But after Saturdays trip out to get a click and collect for me and a friend I came home and just decided I’d had enough. I posted the statement on FB, basic announcement. “I ain’t doing nothing for no one for two days.” The next day I was tagged in a post to help someone and I swiftly had to ask for it to be removed. I had a message from a charge with bad news, and I instantly rang them back, so much for me not giving a hoot and not doing anything for two days. But I made it. Sunday was a bed and book day and I loved it until I got a headache. It was as though I had stored up all the anxiety, frustration, misery and anger and let it all sit there until my body was too vulnerable to hold it back and I snapped.
I cried into my pillow, realised that the sheets smelt funky, I’ve been having mentalpausy hot flushes, so sprayed them with my favourite perfume. I changed them yesterday. Took three days but I got there. I cried to myself, it’s not a crime, I can’t be put away for it. I didn’t need a cuddle nor comforting, nor telling that everything would be alright, I just needed a good old-fashioned cry. Mark’s deaf so he didn’t have a clue, as he supplied me with tea and I snuck a pack of crisps up to bed with me. It felt so liberating.
Monday was a really good day. After a hike to the canal and up to the local hall and back I settled in with my crocheting and a couple of corny films. We watched Willow and The Desolation of Smaug again, the Hobbit movies never get old for me. Yesterday I worked and then this morning the depression of being me, hit like a ton of bricks. The funny thing is, I built a house with them. I got them all together, stuck them in a wheelbarrow, you do know that I’m speaking, figuratively don’t you? Then I started to build.
What had I let happen, I mean honestly, why had I let the World put me inside a shell and throw rotten eggs at me. Life gives you Lemons make Lemonade, Woman gets into hot water she has a bath, get hit by bricks, pick them up and build.
I looked at the half-finished fox on the wall and decided that the time wasn’t right and that I needed to feel confident again. Turning the phone off I went for it. I painted. I put my fear of going out into my garden out of my mind, hid the Agoraphobia inside the closet and took my tools outside. Yes I had to listen to the idiots next door, and yes I may now have heat stroke, I wore a hat, but “Out there”, isn’t a normal place for me to be. But I did it, I jumped from the go out to the bins and back every day on my fear ladder to spend two hours painting. I even cut the hedge at the front of the house as well.
That was Rogers fault.
Roger has a lady, Ooooooo….. I know even I was surprised (sorry Roger) There is something really strange about her, she has this unnerving ability to get Roger up off his backside and doing things. He has even reported to me that he has cleaned his kitchen. Something I still have to see. Hang on, maybe she’s the Good Fairy that has my Red shoes.
You see they turned up today and stood at my gate. A visit that was well received, especially as I managed to get the hedge cut at the same time. There is something strange about her, she has this knack of getting people to do things. I wonder if she’s for hire?
Then as soon as they had left a neighbour stopped and we, I mean I, had a good long whinge about the people that live either side of me.
The problem being I used up all my give up time in one day. I’ve put myself straight back to ground zero. I gave up for two days and I relaxed and now in a matter of three hours I’ve exhausted myself again.
All I can say is good job I built a house. I’ve gone inside for the rest of the day. It’s a good sturdy house inside my head, again there is that figurative speaking again.
It’s good to have tools when you know that you have to work hard every day to manage your wellbeing. Yes, I am exhausted and yes I have “played and created a mess,” but I have managed a fear, accepted that I can’t control what others do and I have created a work of art, not a masterpiece, just a piece of art that came from me. It’s the garden that I would like at the back of the house in my head.
Isn’t it amazing what giving up can do.