I have been taking a train into the city each Wednesday when I visit the psychiatrist. The reason being is that I really dislike the drive home from the session. The traffic is peak hour and it is just stop start for most of the way. As I drive a manual, I spend the time going from first to second to third gear and back down again.
At work today I called Bossman a ‘fucking cunt’. It was under my breath so he did not hear it which is how it was meant to be. Imagine if people heard all the things we muttered about them under our breath. We would be jobless and friendless for sure.
It is the last weekend of Autumn and it truly seems like yesterday I did this post. I remember the post. I remember the weather, the mood I was in and the fact that I still never went to Jims fish and chip shop. So, here I am, going to the psych, driving in peak hour traffic to get home and now and then I see Jims signage.
We are in the second month of Autumn and it is only now that the cooler weather is coming in. There have been days of crisp mornings and warm days with the sun shining high up in the blue sky. I love this part of the year when the bite of hot summer days has disappeared, leaving behind the perfect Autumn weather.
Along with the change of seasons came the end of Daylight Savings. It is a relief when time goes back to what it should be, or was. I feel more in sync (not sure what with) and it is easier for me to get up in the morning.
After applying for many jobs online and getting zero response (bar one which was a rejection) my son is now eager to start working anywhere. So, on Monday he will start casual labouring on building job sites at my work. I think he is over being on the computer so much. He doesn’t want to watch yet another movie nor go to bed in the early morn’ and get up late. Basically, he has finally realised that life is much more than being a mole rat. So he starts Monday and will work on the days he is not at Uni. The pay is good and he will probably end up with more savings that me in a very short time.
He has to be on site by 7.00 am and I made it clear that there was zero chance of me driving him to a work site. Especially since I never get out of bed before 7.00 am anyway (unless going to the airport to fly off on a holiday). So he pitched the idea to K that he would get his driving hours up driving with K to the job site. Here, in Australia, a learner driver has to do 120 hours of supervised driving before they can get their license. My son, after two years of holding his learners license, has clocked up a grand total of 24 hours.
This is a photo of some slippers that I want to buy. I have never owned a pair of slippers or a bathrobe. For me, getting out of bed and schlepping around in a bathrobe and slippers is not appealing at all. It just seems that if I had those two items I would most likely spend all day in them.
I especially like the white slippers but imagine that they would get dirty very easily.
I went to my brother’s house today to do some bookwork.
He and I get on well but he is inclined to push my buttons with some of his comments. I know I have gone on about this in my previous blog but the change is that I have a different approach to it these days. I no longer feel the need to be defensive.
The meaning is of the word creativity is:
- relating to or involving the use of the imagination or original ideas to create something. “change unleashes people’s creative energy”.
I have always been creative. Writing, drawing, painting. Even my home is that of a creative person. I am neither good nor bad at what I do but were you to ask anyone who knows me “is Linda creative” they would say yes. It is a fundamental part of who I am.
Today I thought a lot about the few paragraphs that I wrote yesterday. Mainly about the comment I made how there is no real information about how life is for people who have bipolar after they get a handle on some stability. It is something that I think about often.
I know that I have spoken about my own depression and bipolar a lot in my previous blog but I now feel the need to deconstruct everything to help me reconcile myself to the person that I feel I am these days.
It’s almost two weeks since I posted. I started writing tonight and after a few paragraphs I decided that I had nothing to say and that even if I did it is as though I no longer know how to say it.
So I deleted those paragraphs.
And now I am starting again.
I am as unenthused about life as I was in the last post, possibly worse. I’ve no doubt that my medication and being stable is a contributing factor to my indifference. It is having a significant impact on me as I bring it up at one point in time every therapy session. I tell the psych that I struggle with feeling so ‘flat’ to which he replies ‘you mean normal?’. No, I don’t mean ‘normal’. If every neurotypical person felt the way I do then nothing would ever happen in the world.