Recovery

In the 15 years I have been raising my kids, I have had two severe bouts of depression - one just a few weeks ago.  Throughout both experiences I never took my eye off the ball that is being a mum.  They barely remember the first breakdown (6 years ago) but they sure remember this one.  It was scary for them because they are cognisant of some of the problems that life brings with it; they know what it means to feel as though you are losing your mind. They both felt this way in different versions when their father had the heart attack.  But they plodded through this with me and saw me come through it better and happier with them as my focus- and I think that makes them stronger and more resilient for their own futures to see their mother do this.  And they saw their father support their mother in the way a loving, good man should.  Not everyone (or even many) have this.

But now I am in 'remission' (or almost), I am revelling in all that it means to me to be a mother and a wife.  I have stopped teaching full-time and started writing and reading again (some of the things that go when I am depressed are my ability to write and read anything; drink coffee or alcohol; drive a car or walk very far, even slowly. I can't talk on the phone or socialise in person; I can't hold up a conversation or smile or laugh or eat; I can't bear to wear jewellery or nice clothes; it's hard enough to get in the shower to wash my hair).

So, today I wanted to catalogue some of the things that I feel grateful for.  I don't know 'who' I am grateful to - certainly medical science and certainly not any supernatural being - but I still feel a sense of gratitude for being alive and as lucky as I, most assuredly, am - living this life, now, here with these people.

• I am reading again and writing and dressing like I used to (no heels for change!!): floaty, sea-green or blue and lots of silver jewellery
• and cooking for my family and being a mum
• And loving myself sick
• I feel as though I have found myself again!  I never thought I could step out of teaching and still be me - the me I'd forgotten.   But, as my hand was forced, I can see it objectively now and my mind is free from 'stuff' - never being able to see a movie or a TV show without creating a whole programme in my mind (like a huge concept map) of how I might teach it is immensely liberating!  I can watch trashy TV without feeling guilty about the marking I should be onto already, or forcing myself to think 'critically'.  I can watch "The Bachelor" on Go and just sink into the mire of sludge that it is and feel completely okay with it
• I have space in my brain to think of things to write on my blog every day and the time to actually do it
• I have the energy to walk along the old train-line at dusk
• I have space in my brain to plan for my own writing in the future instead of always dissecting someone else's.  I walked into Oxford Books today and bought three books for me (one entitled 'Hope' giving voice to teenagers on the margins of society, a new set of stories by my favourite Joyce Carol Oates, and last year's Man Booker winner, Philip Roth's "Nemesis"), a coffee-table book for our sun-room ("Sculptures By the Sea since 1979"), and a Lonely Planet book of London for my girl - and I came home and spent a good 2 or 3 minutes sniffing the covers and running the pages over my face!  
• This morning I felt very lucky to be able to lie on my couch and sip coffee and watch the sheets blowing and drying softly in the breeze

OK...it COULD be the meds...but I would prefer to think it's all me .  I just haven't been acquainted with myself for awhile.

HELLO ME!!  I've missed you.