>Just a chance that maybe…

>

And you asked me what I want this year
And I’ll try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe
We’ll find better days

‘Cause I don’t need boxes wrapped in strings
And designer love and empty things
Just a chance that maybe
We’ll find better days

So take these words
And sing out loud
‘Cause everyone is forgiven now
‘Cause tonight’s the night
The world begins again

I need someplace simple where we could live
And something only you can give
And that’s faith and trust and peace
While we’re alive

And the one poor child who saved this world
And there’s ten million more who probably could
If we all just stopped and said a prayer for them

So take these words
And sing out loud
‘Cause everyone is forgiven now
‘Cause tonight’s the night
The world begins again

I wish everyone was loved tonight
And somehow stop this endless fight
Just a chance that maybe
We’ll find better days

So take these words
And sing out loud
‘Cause everyone is forgiven now
‘Cause tonight’s the night
The world begins again

‘Cause tonight’s the night
The world begins again

The Goo Goo Dolls ~ Better Days

A few people over on Caringbridge have talked about this song lately and I heard it tonight too. I’m listening to it on repeat as I type this…

I’ve been writing myself out a lot these last few days but at present I am not comfortable sharing what I’ve been writing here as it’s intensely personal. I have been sharing it with someone and they have and continue to help me immensely. As I wrote tonight I intended to write about one thing but I ended up writing about something completely different.

And I thought hang on a minute, where did that come from? What I was writing took me completely by surprise but it rang true in a way I hadn’t even thought of before.

I’ve had things take on a life of their own when writing before but normally that’s stuff like poems and essays and it’s like this is a truth… my truth but it wasn’t something I’d really given time to before. 1,100 little words of my feelings and my pain gone from my head into written form. A chance to express myself and see things in a slightly clearer way, examine them from a previously unconsidered way.

Writing myself out helps me so much, I need to make time to do that properly and do that more often.

And I’ve come to a realisation or i suppose you could say back to a realisation… and The Goo Goo Dolls said it best so I’ll let them say it for me:

And you asked me what I want this year

And I’ll try to make this kind and clear
Just a chance that maybe
We’ll find better days

I don’t need to be cured of my depression right now, I don’t need to even think about my medication and the fact that I have been on them so much longer than I was originally told I would be.

I’ll be OK. Just as long as there’s a chance that maybe, I’LL find better days.

And today, I feel like there is that chance.

>Keep on keeping on

>That’s been my motto for the last few days and I think i may slowly, very slowly, be getting there.

A very good friend (who knows who she is) plugged me into a support system yesterday and that’s been really helpful. That’s all I’m happy to talk about that here at the moment. Oh actually I might just add that I appear to be unable to turn my CAB brain off and there is a tiny tiny silly thing about this support system that is making my CAB side go “ARRRRRGH should you really be doing that?!” not because it bothers me but as always seems to be the story with me because it might bother others. Perhaps I should stop worrying about others and start putting me first. That would be a very novel idea, wouldn’t it?

I am still going to go to the doctors but not on a medically urgent appt. I’m going to aggressively pursue getting my hormones checked out. I don’t think there’s any small coincidence in that fact that I’ve been crazy crazy for a couple of weeks when my period went awol and then today it put in an appearance and I began to feel like there’s a light again.

And aren’t NHS waiting lists wonderful things? I went on the waiting list for something in August and was told six weeks or so. In January they wrote and said did I still want an appt so I said yes. Today they called and I finally have an appt. On Wednesday.

Longest. Six. Weeks. Ever.

>Tuesday: a day in bullet point form.

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  • Very depressed.
  • Also sick with physical issues – maybe viral or maybe a physical manifestation of my depression.
  • Called my supervisor and told her I didn’t feel well but would go in if she wanted me too. She said to stay home.
  • So I did.
  • I’m proud of myself for realising that I wouldn’t be much use at CAB today and I don’t feel at all guilty for not being there.
  • More importantly I don’t feel like my CP is winning because I didn’t go in.
  • Hell, it didn’t have anything to do w/ my cp but before if I took time off it to me was a failure because I’ve always fought hard not to let my medical issues control me.
  • I’m going to make a doctors appt tomorrow.
  • I’m extremely proud of myself for recognising that I need help without having to be prompted and pushed into seeing that.
  • I got some comments about the fact I called in sick that really pissed me off.
  • But I let them go.
  • Because I am a wuss.
  • I’m going to ask to see a female GP and not let them fob me off with “the med you are on for depression is good for people with severe pms”
  • Because I still end up rock bottom with occasional thoughts of death the days before the red army comes to town.
  • Yes, my pms is that severe.
  • and “people” may find that fluoxetine/prozac is good for that.
  • it’s good for my depression
  • but come pms time my body laughs in the face of those two little capsules I take daily and goes “come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.”
  • They usually fight to a draw. Both the meds and my body end up battered and with no wish to repeat the process.
  • But it re-runs every month.
  • I hate it.
  • I watched one of my favourite episodes of Star Trek: Voyager today.
  • I started the 100 day poem challenge that’s on my 101 in 1001 list today.
  • I hope my doctor can adjust my meds so that my pms goes to the meds “come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough”, then takes one look at the med and goes… “Well if you wouldn’t mind Mr. Med, Sir.” and then it runs screaming from my life and the med is triumphant.
  • I do nothing if not dream big.