What’s the go?

Hey all,

So it’s been a while since I’ve been on here – I’ve been trying to get myself back together with somewhat limited success.

But I thought I’d give you an update about what has been happening while I’ve been gone, and why it may be a while before I’m properly back.

After a heap of heavy family and emotional stuff through the end of 2016 and the start of 2017, my mental health was sitting on a knife-edge when I initially dropped off the radar here. However, I didn’t really acknowledge how bad I had gotten at that point, so I kept going with 90% of my normal stuff (work, uni, life) because I was determined that I wasn’t going to let myself go back to where I was 5 years ago.

BAD MOVE! Determination alone is not enough to fix your mental and physical health.

I crashed, quite spectacularly. I was exhausted all the time, but couldn’t sleep because I was so WIRED from my anxiety. I was also physically unwell – I’d had a cold during January, and just never really kicked it. I tried to go to the gym, and all that did was push me further down – Hello CFS, I did not miss you in the slightest. Post-exertion malaise SUCKS BALLS.
I ended up dropping 3 of my 4 university subjects, dropping my work hours to 1 shift per week (and taking several weeks off as well, thank god I’m casual at work).

After 3 weeks of having daily (often multiple times daily) anxiety/panic attacks, I got myself in to a specialist doctor. After a barrage of testing, he diagnosed me with a couple of genetic conditions (Pyrrole disorder and MTHFR). I got one from each side of the family – talk about genetic lottery!
I’m now getting treatment for both conditions – I’m on a huge number of supplements (both conditions cause significant deficiencies in several important vitamins and minerals) and things are beginning to get better.
I’m back at the doctor in a couple of weeks to retest and see if my levels are getting back to what they should be, but I’m feeling better already. My anxiety has backed off significantly – it’s not gone, but I haven’t had an anxiety/panic attack in 2 months. I’m still tired, but nowhere near as bad as I was. I managed to go to the gym and it didn’t wipe me out.

I’m part-time at uni now, and will be graduating at the end of next year. I’ve increased my work hours back to 5 shifts per fortnight, and I’m beginning to get the housework stuff back under control.
We got a new cat in the midst of the crash, because having a furry friend really does help – if you follow me on Instagram, you would have seen pictures of her there.
I’m knitting/crocheting/crafting like a madwoman because it helps keep me level, and I’m trying to get back to cooking and eating healthy because my crash ended in me putting on 5kg :S

I may not be back to posting regularly for a little while longer, but I want to get back to blogging again. I’m not putting a timeframe on anything at the moment, just until things level out and are a little more predictable again.


Just tired…

As those who follow me on twitter or instagram would know, we suffered a major loss just before Christmas – our gorgeous kitty Jacket passed away in his sleep. He’d had a few health problems across the year, and I think it all eventually just caught up with him. He was 15 years old, so he was getting up there in cat-years, but it was still unexpected.

Gonna miss this fluffball :(

Gonna miss this fluffball 😦

Before anyone asks, because it really is a sore point – nope. Not ready to get another cat yet. We will, but just not yet.

Honestly, I’ve been a mess. I was already a bit burnt out from working a few too many shifts during semester, and then with this horrible sad event right before Christmas, only the day before the one year anniversary of my Nan’s death, I just haven’t been coping very well.

This blog has suffered, my house is a bombsite, I haven’t done work I needed to do. I haven’t done the ‘healthy’ things I know make me feel better (gym, yoga, tai chi, meditation), and instead have spent an inordinate amount of time on the couch, watching Netflix, gaming, and eating chocolate.

I went a couple of weeks ago for a checkup (because my shoulder has been playing up again) and have been informed that I am suffering from adrenal fatigue (again). Now I have to be careful I don’t push myself completely off the edge, especially seeing as I’m heading back to uni in only 2 weeks.

I don’t know when I’ll be back writing properly on the blog, but I don’t want to go away completely. I have so many ideas for posts, but I just haven’t got the mental energy to bring them to life at the moment.

I just know that I have to take the time to sort out my mental and physical health again, before I completely wreck myself. Right now, I’m just tired and need to get myself healthy again.


*** The article linked in this post is not mine, but it sums everything up in a much better way than I could ***


Apologies for being so very very slack over the last… god, 3 months? 4 months?… something like that.

Life has been super-busy, and somewhat stressful.

I did 4 weeks of prac this semester, as well as all my normal assignments, and then on top of that I got SICK and missed part of one of my prac weeks.
I now have to make up a week of prac, and I’m just waiting for the school to get back to me about when I’ll be doing that.
But since I’ve been sick, I’ve had trouble getting back up to where I was before. I don’t think I gave myself enough time to really properly get better, because everything has been back-to-back and I just couldn’t take the time off.

I’m just SO DAMN TIRED, and very distracted. Concentrating on anything is incredibly difficult 😦 My anxiety has been playing up again and I keep second-guessing myself, but I think I must be on a downward depression cycle as well because motivation is zero. I’ve just got to push myself through my exams, and  then in a week I’ll be DONE! Hopefully I can get through without breaking, because I have plans for the summer break and I don’t want to have to spend the whole time recovering.



The past 48hrs have been an interesting mix of awesome and terrible.

The awesome stuff:

  • A good friend FINALLY got engaged and I was there
  • I got 2 new pairs of jeans and MY BUTT LOOKS AWESOME IN THEM. To boot, they’re a size 9!!!! (2 years ago I barely fit into a 12!) WOOT WOOT vanity sizing for the win BUT WHATEVER. Finally, jeans that fit my butt and waist at the same time.
    Usually jeans that fit my hips/butt are way too loose around my waist and either fall down or look terrible. I have now discovered the awesomeness that is “Curve Embracer” jeans from Jeans West 🙂

The terrible:

  • I reached my quota for “allowable last-minute schedule changes” in a spectacular fashion on Friday night. Pretty much EVERY plan I’ve made with anyone other than Hubby for the past 2 weeks has been changed at the last minute, and usually without me being informed except in passing. On Friday night, one phone call managed to single-handedly screw with ALL my plans for next week.
    I spent Friday night and most of Saturday in an absolute emotional mess because I just couldn’t deal. I plan in a certain amount of wiggle room for things like this, and if I can plan for things not going to plan I’m ok (e.g. at work – no worries, all good, because I control for the stuff I can)… but if they’re things that I don’t expect to get screwed around over (like meeting up with family), I have difficulty. If I get multiples within a short amount of time, I crash and burn.

Now I’m trying to catch up on my uni work and get myself back on a even keel for next week. I tensed up so much from yesterday that 3 long soaks in very warm baths have not made as much of an impact as I would like, and I’ve had a tension headache all day 😦

Hopefully I can stay on the level for a little while now though.



I had thought I was feeling a little better this morning.


Had an absolutely spectacular spaz out at lunchtime today. Why?

Because I went into the kitchen to make something for lunch, and there was nothing for me to do that with. There was food, but pretty much EVERY SINGLE DISH IN THE HOUSE was dirty and on the kitchen bench.

But that in itself didn’t phase me too much. I was annoyed, and settled down to sort out the dishwasher and get it running again so I could clear a bit of the sink and wash a plate/bowl so I could do some lunch.

THEN IT HAPPENED. I picked up a pot off the bench, and it turns out that it was a structural object for that entire section of the bench. I managed to catch most of it, but a glass fell on the floor and smashed.

Then I had to clean it all up. I was feeling pretty awful by this point, but it got worse.

Our dishwasher is missing one of the spiny things that hold the plates up – so it’s a bit of a balancing act to get the smaller side plates to stack properly. THEY WOULDN’T STAY STACKED. I’d get them sitting properly, and as soon as I moved the drawer even the slightest bit they’d all fall over again.

This was the straw that broke the camel’s back… Hubby sort of got a phone call from me in a blubbering mess, telling him that when he got home he was going to DO THE F***ING DISHES because I. Just. Can’t.

I took the little plates out and just ran it without them, because I was determined to get SOMETHING good out of the mess.

I ended up eating cereal for lunch because I hadn’t managed to get anything clean – cereal eaten out of a mug, with a teaspoon.

UGH I was doing so well WHY do I have to start having trouble again?!?!?!

And yesterday, one of my uni friends asked where I was all last week. I ended up just mumbling something about it being a ‘bad week’ and left it at that, because I’m not sure what his approach to mental health is just yet. Also, I’ve only known him for 2 months, I’m not sure how much I really want to share just yet…

Sometimes, this still feels like a very private battle, because it’s extremely hard to explain it to people without them brushing it off (“oh, we all have days like that. It’ll be better tomorrow”) or looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head or am going to randomly start killing people.
I even get the feeling sometimes that Hubby doesn’t believe it’s as bad as I tell him, but I’ve got no idea whether that’s an actual thing or just the anxiety/depression talking.

Now I’m going to go and do some Tai Chi and see if I can calm down enough to get back to my assignment.

Oh did I mention? 2 assignments and an exam, all between Friday and Monday. Haha oh what a fun week I shall have…



This has been a crappy week, physically, mentally and emotionally.

I’ve been feeling “off” all week, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m coming doen with something or whether it’s just CFS popping in for a visit again. So all week I’ve had a bit of a sore throat, and all the usual sore joints and muscles, and then my wisdom teeth decided to make their presence known again. I am tired when I wake up, even though my fitbit says I’ve slept well, and for about 8hrs, and I don’t get less tired as the day goes on.

Mentally, I’ve been distracted. I have had an insane amount of trouble concentrating. I’ve been having trouble with extraneous noise again, any other verbal noise makes it incredibly difficult to focus on and process what I’m supposed to be doing, or on the conversation I’m having at the time. Words aren’t coming when I need them, so I’ve been having trouble with normal conversation – so I just avoid it. I’ve only been to uni one day this week, and my friends were all like “why you so quiet? Stop being so quiet!”.

Emotionally, I am nothing. I don’t feel “down” as such, there’s just nothing there – no happy, no motivation, no angry, just… Blank.

I was doing so well, and here we are again. Not quite back where I started, but not in a good place.

I’ve only been to uni 1 day this week – missing classes started out innocently enough on Monday with the funeral (it didn’t finish in time for me to get back for either lecture). Then on Tuesday, I decided that I would be better off staying home and watching the lectures rather than going to the tute, because what’s the point of the tute if I haven’t seen the lecture yet? Wednesday I went, because we are being assessed in our clinical health assessment skills over this month, and I wanted to give myself every chance to make sure I’ve got eveything right. We also had the A&P lab on Wednesday morning, so I went to that because Chris dropped me at uni and I was already there. Yesterday I only had a tute, and it was going over “nonverbal communication skills” – I decided not to go to that because I just finished my psych degree, and I didn’t feel like going over all that AGAIN. Today, I’m supposed to have my A&P lecture, but I won’t be going. The idea of riding to uni actually scares me, because I know it will only make me more tired and it will make my joints hurt more than they already do. And if I’m more tired than I already am when I get to the lecture, I wouldn’t be able to concentrate anyway, so what is the point in going?

Therefore, I’ve decided to call this week a write-off and hope that the rest helps me feel better enough to deal with the world again next week.

Before anyone asks – yes, I have stuff I can take. I avoid taking it because it interferes with my pill. Therefore, I need to talk to Hubby before I start taking it, because it’s not something that will only affect me.

I haven’t talked to him yet because I was hoping it was a transient blip that would blow over on its own (those happen, and they’re usually over in a couple of days), but since it clearly isn’t, I’ll talk to him when he gets home from work.


And… Down again…

My positive feelings from my improved GPA are officially gone again now.

Hubby just called me to ask if he could use the $40 in the savings account for petrol. No, sorry, that money is there so that we can afford to pay the direct debit insurance payments at the end of the month. If we use it, I’ll have to take that money out of next week’s budget. Which is already being stretched to the limit, because we’re apparently in arrears (HOW?!?!?!? I still don’t understand how it happened) on his car payments, so we have to pay extra on that for the next two weeks.

I just had a total meltdown while I was on the phone, I just couldn’t stop crying and apologising. In a way, this isn’t my fault – I made sure all the bills were paid, I made sure he had food for while I was away. I spent only $50 to feed myself for this week and part of next week. I ASKED HIM how much he needed for fuel this week, after explaining that we didn’t have a lot of money left after paying the bills (we had $70 total for food and fuel, because we had to pay extra for ANOTHER bill this week – the changeover from monthly to weekly pay has not been at all pleasant). He said that he didn’t need fuel, so I allocated $50 for me to get food for myself and $20 for him to get the “extras” he’d need over the week (bread, milk, cat food).

And now I get a call from him asking if he can put $40 in for fuel. I told him that if he wasn’t planning on coming over this side of town on Tuesday already, not to worry about it. But he came anyway. YES I miss him, YES it was great to see him, but now this is happening and it feels like it wasn’t worth it. Now he is using the $20 that was supposed to be for HIS food for fuel, and apparently “That should be just enough”. If you thought you’d need $20 for fuel this week, you should have said. I would have just gotten veges and beans, rather than getting fish and chicken as well. I DON’T MIND EATING VEGETARIAN FOR A WEEK. The friends I’m house/pet-sitting for have chickens, so I’ve got free eggs. I could have gotten by on less for food, but I though it would be OK for me to have meat, since he said he didn’t need fuel.

My mum gave me $40 cash on Tuesday night, because I was out of fuel myself and she needs me to drive her to the airport on Friday and pick her up when she gets back. I COULD HAVE GIVEN HIM $20 OF THAT ON TUESDAY! I only put $20 in my car to start with, because it’s not like I’m driving anywhere except the airport on Friday, and I might need money for public transport or something. Because even though Hubby hadn’t used that $20, I’d allocated that for HIM so I wasn’t going to use it because it’s not what it was planned to be used for. He didn’t say on Tuesday that he might need fuel, so I thought he was still OK. So I didn’t offer, because I thought it was all sorted. I’d talked to him about how much we’d paid for everything, and why certain amounts were “just sitting” in certain accounts, so that he knew WHY we only had $70 this week. I thought he understood that we can’t USE that money that’s sitting in those accounts, otherwise we’ll be in an even worse situation at the end of the month when the direct debits come out.

And somehow, in my head, this all leads to me feeling guilty because I spent $50 on food this week. I feel guilty about BUYING MEAT. If I’d just decided to go with beans and rice, I could have fed myself on half as much. But I thought we could afford the $50, so I spent that. (I’ll point out here that $50 a week for food is pretty low in Australia. It’s not like I was buying anything but the basics.) AND I FEEL GUILTY FOR BUYING MEAT. For some reason, I feel like buying meat for myself is not justifiable. There is a little rational corner of my mind that tells me I’m being an idiot. I know it’s silly to feel that way, I spent very little and got a very healthy menu for the week. But the rest of my brain is freaking out, because I feel guilty for spending Hubby’s hard-earned money. Because I’m not working ATM. We decided as a couple that there was no point me trying to get a summer job, because I would be spending half the time on the opposite side of town (no matter where I got the job), and I would be spending most of the extra money I earned getting to and from the job. We decided we could manage. So I feel guilty because somehow, my brain has connected this joint decision with it being my fault that money is tight. I feel guilty because I have a $20 note sitting in my purse, and I can’t get that cash to him, and he’s the one who needs it. I don’t, I still have about $5 in silver rolling around in my car, which I can use if I need bread or milk before next pay day. I don’t need the cash. But he does, and I can’t get it to him, and this makes me feel even worse about the whole situation.

I always tell people I went into psychology to understand how other people’s brains worked, but really it was to try and work out how my own works. Because the rational part of my mind can’t make any sense of the spiky wave of anxiety that takes over sometimes, and the anxiety won’t listen to the rational part.

I know it’s not my fault. I know I shouldn’t feel guilty. I know I have no reason to apologise. BUT FOR SOME REASON, I do feel this way. I think Hubby gets frustrated by it at times, and I totally get that. I’m there having a meltdown, and apologising for everything, and he CAN’T DO ANYTHING TO MAKE IT BETTER. They’re panic/anxiety attacks. The only thing I can do is wait and let them run down. Which makes me feel guilty about having a lack of control over my emotions and reactions. Vicious cycle, much?

Stupid brain.


I just…

I think I’m going to go hide somewhere. Today has not started well.

Got an email from the real estate of our old place, saying that the cleaner did not do a good enough job, and that APPARENTLY (oh shock!) the grass needs mowing and whipper-snipper-ing again. Wow, so the grass GREW during summer? Who’d have THUNK it? That’s what happens when you say “oh I’m doing the inspection on X date” so we do the garden. Then you don’t actually do the exit inspection until 2 weeks later.

The cleaner is the same one I’ve gotten for the last two places we moved out of, and there’s NEVER been any issues with his work before. There’s only so much you can do when the house is in as crappy condition as that one is/was. Certain parts of it were stained and damaged before we ever moved in, and I noted it all on the entry report. The property manager changed during the time we were there though, and I don’t think the new girl really has a concept of what the house actually LOOKED LIKE when we moved in. I think she thinks that the house looks like it does because of something WE did. Which is a load of shit. We’ve been begged to stay on by every other real estate we’ve been with. They have always said “oh we won’t increase the rent, will that keep you?”, or something similar. We are good tenants, we look after our houses, we don’t whinge about every little thing. We only complain when there is an ACTUAL problem (like oh, mice living in the back of the stove).

All this really just means that we won’t be getting the bond back until at least the 19th of December and that we probably won’t get the whole amount back now, and this is a problem – I have 2 bills due on the 15th that I’d bargained on using the bond money for. Which I have NO IDEA how we’re going to afford to pay without that money. And I was going to use the money to get Hubby a decent birthday/christmas present (his bday is only a couple of days after Christmas), but we probably can’t afford that now. I thought we would finally be in a position where I could actually get him something decent, but apparently not. (For the past 3 or 4 years, he’s gotten a couple of CDs or video games, and new jocks/socks/boxers).

I don’t have the money, time, or mental/emotional capacity to actually deal with this at the moment. I think I need to just go back to bed. I have already gone through an entire box of tissues because I just can’t stop crying and… I just can’t. I just CAN’T. We have no chocolate in the house because I’ve been trying to keep our food bill down, so I haven’t been buying anything “extra” that we don’t need.

I wish that this had all happened last week, when I was actually feeling OK. This week has not been good, all the body aches are back again, I’ve been having trouble concentrating, my coordination is FUCKED, I’m having trouble thinking – all the CFS symptoms are coming back. So this on top of everything else is just too much right now. I hadn’t actually told anyone that I’m feeling worse again, because it didn’t seem to matter until now – all I’m needing to do at home is cleaning and unpacking, which I can do at my own pace and take rests when I need to. I’m going to have to tell Hubby, but I feel so bad about the fact that this keeps happening. He’s always so good about it, but for some reason I always feel like he’s comparing me to what “normal” people are able to do and thinking that I’m not really sick, I’m just lazy. I don’t know whether this is me putting what I’m thinking myself onto him, or whether he actually does feel a little bit like that. Either way, I feel so guilty that I can’t measure up to a “normal” person. I don’t know what to do any more.



D is for Depression

Not quite so positive as the previous letters… but no less true.

Depression has been ever present in my life for the past 10 years, along with anxiety, and neither of them look to be going away in any hurry.

Whether I am depressed because I am sick, or sick because I am depressed is something no doctor has ever been able to really determine, but I’ll stick by the justification that I am depressed because I am sick.

A complete physical inability to get yourself out of bed, or do more than the most basic of activities will tend to do that to a person, particularly when some of your favourite activities in the past were hiking, abseiling, rock climbing, and other such pursuits.

This was around the time when I rediscovered my crafty pursuits – knitting and crochet provide a similar feeling of achievement, without the ridiculously exhausting physical exertion. Also, even if you only do a few stitches or rows a week, you can see something growing and that’s great for mitigating the feeling of failure.

I’d been dealing with anxiety ever since Grade 2 & 3, when I was mercilessly bullied by a girl in my class at school. I changed schools at the start of Grade 4, but I’ve never quite gotten back the carefree little person I was before it all happened.

It comes and goes in waves – currently, I seem to be on the way up. The good days are more common, and the bad days aren’t as bad at the moment. But I know that a drop won’t be far behind – maybe it’ll be in a day, a week, a month – but it will come back. I’ve just got to make the most of the good days so that I can get through the bad ones without completely falling on my face.

When I’m working through a rash of really bad days, I drink more than is really healthy. Normally, I barely drink at all, and when I do it’s a couple of glasses of something at a social event (recent wedding being a deviation from my normal social drinking patterns – it was good wine). But when things aren’t going well, and particularly when Hubby is not around (if he’s away for work), I’ll drink a lot. My most recent bad run, which I’m only just coming up from, has meant that we are almost out of scotch. At Easter, we had 4 almost-full bottles of scotch. Now there’s 2 bottles left, both with only a couple of drinks worth in the bottom.

I know this is a maladaptive coping mechanism. I avoid it at all costs. I avoid alcohol as much as possible, so that when I do get in this sort of place, I only need 3 or 4 drinks before I’m comfortably muzzy, and everything starts to feel a little less, well, awful.