What have I been doing?

Good question. The answer is - a lot. While at the same time, not feeling like much. It's interesting how we shrink ourselves and only focus on the shortfalls sometimes. Well, if you ever feel that kind of way, I'd recommend writing everything down and reading it back - you'd be surprised. Especially if you struggle with short-term memory, as I often do... 

I would never have got married here, anyway.

I've been working. I love my job. Aren't I lucky to get to say that? That's it, really. 

I've been moving. Actually, not much. Not a lot of conscious physical exercise-type movement, at least. I'd love to be back in my tiny, wonky flat on Silchester Road, just for a day, if it meant I could have the sunshine and space to do some morning boogying, like I did in lockdown. I'm hoping to get back into a routine with yoga classes and gym visits, when I'm in my new place. Oh yes, I buried the lead there! See, when I said 'moving', I meant to a new place. To live. A place of my own. Yes, it's very exciting and not at all scary. More on this to come hopefully, right now I'm just getting my head around it and moving mentally, I suppose? 

I've been eating. I spoke to my GP today and she asked how my appetite has been recently, and I was surprised to find myself saying (truthfully), that it's been pretty shambolic. More on that below... 

But when I've been seeking delicious sustenance, I've found it in the best places. I'd particularly recommend t@the Dials, in Brighton, for all your sexy stuffed sarnie needs. 

A good vegan BLT is the way to my heart.

I've been loving. I said in a previous post, the sudden absence of a key love I'd come to revolve around (which I now realise had actually been ebbing away slowly, for months, as evidenced in missed compliments and unmatched affection) made me love harder and stronger and more vocally, suddenly. I was telling everyone close to me how much I adored them, prying open my rusty, clamped heart and looking to fill it up with fun, friendship and foolish frolics. It's amazing how resilient we can be. I'll never take that for granted again. 

I've been reading. It's taken nearly a quarter of a year, but I've finished a whole book, and not just any book; 'Talking at Night', by Claire Daverley. I took it with me to New York in September but only had a few stolen moments to get into it - and on the flights, I accidentally watched films back to back instead of retrieving it from my hand luggage. I've carried it with me on every train I've taken, only to disappoint myself by slipping in my earbuds and listening to yet another podcast for almost the entirety of my journey; I've kept it beside my bed, only to disappoint myself by playing solitaire for fifteen minutes on my phone before finally picking it up to try and complete a chapter and then finding my eyelids drooping after just a few sentences... Still, I persevered until I finally found the sweet spot; you know when you suddenly dive fully in to a story and can't wait to pick it back up again every time you put it down? I'd missed that feeling. Would recommend this story to everyone who loves love, heartache, nuance, life journeys and missed opportunities and timeline intersections - aka, exactly my kind of readers. 

(it's a tough call comparing both, but the US cover might be my favourite)

I've been writing. I had another creative block that took forever to shift, to break out of its firm foundations and push to the top of the hill. Much like the beginning of the year, which feels like a lifetime ago, I have been able to unearth my old drafts and continue working on them like no time has passed. More than that, actually - I've found they're making me emotional. Re-reading passages I'd forgotten I wrote, introducing myself to characters I created all over again and immersing myself in their stories once more, it's a bit much. In a good way. I have two novel projects on the go, and they're both going to be published someday soon. 

Roger, the fox.

I've been depressed. Officially. The GP diagnosed me yesterday. Weirdly, it felt like a surprise - and not so weirdly - actually, a little too obviously - like a failure. I thought I'd been doing well. Therapy once a week has been serving me better in these last few months than it has for the past year - or at least, my therapist has had a lot more to deal with. I've done more reflecting and refocusing, less dwelling and punishing. I've let loose and partied hard, in more ways than one. Yet still, the shaggy black dog has come for me, and it seems to have manifested itself in physical symptoms. My GP was asking me all sorts of questions that seemed irrelevant but I trusted she was on her way to some forgone conclusion; how's your appetite been? (non-existent, but that hasn't stopped me snacking) Have you been sleeping well? (yes, so says my Google watch, but I've been waking most nights at 4:17am precisely) How are your energy levels, day to day? (tragic) Are you finding it hard to focus? (yes, more than ever, but I have moderate ADHD, as diagnosed two years ago, so it must be that) How are other people making you feel? (generally? Honestly? Irritated) 

   'Based on what you've told me, and your recent bloods results being arguably okay, I'd say you are suffering with mild depression.' 

I cried. It's so easy to cry in those bright, clinical offices. She offered me some low key meds, but said she'd be wary as they can cause sickness and even more sadness initially, and then apparently when they kick in, her patients have reported a feeling of 'flatness'; no clear inclination which way, up or down, happy or otherwise. I don't want to be numbed, I said. I want to feel, still. She said to give it some thought and do some research, between now and the new year. 

I've never been medicated for anything, besides my under-active thyroid which was discovered a year ago and a solution was found very swiftly. I guess the contraceptive pill I was on for 10 years (give or take) would also count. I confided in my (poly) partner last night, and he said he's never been medicated either but knows some people who have felt a complete personality shift when they come on/off pills. It's a lot to take in, and to consider. I'm adding it to the post-Christmas pile, which I no doubt will be sorting through between the big day and New Year's Eve; 'Do I want to be medicated?' is up there with the big Qs like 'is blocking the answer?', 'how can I trick my body into enjoying the gym?' and the smaller, more fun ones like 'what colour fridge do I want?' Stay tuned for answers. 

That's me. That's what I've been up to. How about you?

G. x