Week one million (or so it feels like) of lockdown approaches. I feel like everyone is starting to get super fed up. We have all done the Joe Wicks, made the iced coffees, danced to Tik Tok dances, cleared out our drawers and done more online shopping than our finances are ok with. What’s next?I have found that I am returning to my old ways more and more – but this aint no bad thing! One example is that I bought a football. I don’t know what came over me I haven’t played with a football in years! As a child, I loved nothing more than going outside and kicking a football around. I was so happy when it arrived and once I got it blown up I was straight outside with my new purchase.
I’m trying to keep this blog writing thing up but honestly being consistently exhausted makes it so physically hard sometimes – bear with me! I do my best to be positive but some days I just get so frustrated. I am a person who wants to do a lot of things trapped in a body that wants to sleep 24/7.I thought long and hard about what way to present this next part. I wasn’t sure whether to tell the story as it was or to jazz it up a bit with a few jokes in there. In the end, I decided to tell it exactly as it was. In this current climate, there will be a number of people now feeling how I felt then. All I can say is that it will get better, you will survive this and come out stronger. Yes it sounds cheesy, but if there is a next time that you hit such lows, you have a ladder in the form of coping mechanisms to be able to get out again. It also sort of gives you a superpower – your biggest fear has already been presented itself to you so next time you will be fearless. World Pandemic come at me – you needn’t think you are going to break my spirit.
I’m not sure how to transition into the next part of the story to be honest… it’s one of the parts of my life that’s super hard for me to revisit. Like that phrase ‘maybe you’ll look back one day and laugh’ definitely does not apply to this bit. There’s a good reason for the Irish way of coping which is lets just never ever talk about that again and shove it under the carpet. It’s because talking about things in your past is friggin hard. It’s also hard to tell the full story of what happened and keep the people involved anonymous. At the same time though, they know who they are haha.
If you are still reading from my first blog post – thanks!! If you are a new reader then welcome!
It has been a wee while now since my last blog post… I’m not sure if any of you can relate but when you have a chronic condition you find yourself readjusting all the time. I was in a wee bubble there where work was busy but I was still winding down at the appropriate time and remembering to drink enough water and take my meds and do yoga and all that nice stuff. Then it got a wee bit busier and sure I was starting to forget the water and not do yoga and that is the EXACT TIME you should be doing these things! It’s just a wee reminder to me that I always need to make sure I am making time to keep myself on the wagon! You are no use to anyone anyway if you are bringing out the worst of your condition by neglecting the things that keep it under control. Anyway on to the main bit…(can you tell I’m easily distracted and go off on tangents..)
So the sleepy story continues – thanks to anyone who took the time to read my first post!My old history teacher used to start her lessons with only a whiteboard marker in hand and ask ‘what year were we on?’ someone would chime in ‘1914 miss’ ‘ah yes…this was the year that marked the beginning of the first world war..’ and she would rhyme off everything that happened that year for the lesson (absolute lady and genius, I owe my A-Level to her!) So I suppose in the same fashion…we left off at the secondary school era…
My earliest memory is of Christmas Day, I am awakened by my older sister who informs me that it is 1pm, Santa has been and it’s DEFINITELY time to get up. I think I was about 3 or 4 years old at the time. My other siblings (five of them) have been up since dawn, my brother has claimed the tv (the fecker) and has probably had a good poke at my Santa presents too. I was gonna bracket some more jibes about him at this age but it was too long so here it is: NOTHING was sacred with that boy, no I will never forgive him for eating my Easter eggs circa 1998 because I was sick. I had a special SPICE GIRLS egg, that kinda stuff wasn’t your standard old Cadburys but down his gob it went and when I was better I had no Easter eggs left to eat the little shit.