Shopping

Shortly, I will be going to IKEA with Sandra. Not exciting news, you might think, but it is for me. You see, I have NEVER gone shopping with another woman before, except of course, for my mother. I managed a brief browse of the charity shops near Swanwick with Rae last year but didn’t actual buy much. Apart from that, zilch.

I badly need friends. So far in my life, I have made very few and some of those have turned out to be ‘bad’ for me. I’ve only recently realised that spending time with a friend should give you something, whether that’s being able to share a problem or laughter, offering sympathy or encouragement, it needs to work both ways.

I find the prospect of hours at Ikea with another woman rather scary because it’s new to me, but who knows, it might be fun.

I’ve been thinking a lot about time lately, and how it’s meant to heal. I was sure, 100%, that when my mother died, I’d be OK. After all, she’d been a very negative presence in  my life, but that didn’t happen. Instead I fell apart not just at the seams, but all over the place. I then decided to give myself a year to recover. That deadline came and went in March this year and still I didn’t feel better. For me, one measure of how I’m feeling is my short story writing. When they flow, I’m in a good place, when they don’t, I’m not. I’ve had a few little pools of time when the words worked, but mostly, they haven’t. Non-fiction isn’t affected for some reason, possibly because I don’t need my emotional brain so much for that.

I’ve now set another deadline – June 28^th, my birthday – only this time the goal is less specific. I simply want to be getting on with my life, the way I want to live it. I will probably still cry rather a lot, still feel down in the dumps every now and then. I’m not sure I’ll ever get free of depression, all I know is that I’m going to do  my best to fight it.

When I gave myself a year to get over Mum’s death, I didn’t factor in all the other stuff that was going on – problems with her carer, clearing and selling the house, solicitors, trying to sell my own house, moving, arguments and being bullied by my ex,  and so on and so on. Time does help, but there’s no set limit. It takes as long as it takes. I spent my whole life in emotional pain, I can’t expect to suddenly wake up one morning cured. I now have an electronic piano, and a room where I can paint, but if I don’t touch a key, or pick up a brush , for months, that’s fine. I will do it sometime. It might take me the rest of my life to get better, all I know is that I have to  be kind to myself, so from now on, if I don’t want to do something, unless I HAVE to do it, I can say no.   I don’t have to spend time with people who depress me. I CAN spend time with people who cheer me up, offer encouragement and make me smile.

I have to say it makes me feel better just putting that little lot down in words.  So now, off to Ikea….