Oh the Humidity

Yesterday I took myself out on a walk in the woods. It’s been horribly, horribly humid the last couple of days, but I’d decided I was going to go walking no matter what. No excuses.

When I got out of my car the air was like soup, but I thought once I got deep into the woods and into the shade it would probably be nicer. Nope. It was just as soupy. It was 25c outdoors, which is just about my perfect temperature under normal circumstances, but the humidity is just the worst. I spent a few months in Malta some years back, and even when it reached 42c it was easier to cope with than the weather here. Hot and dry, I can deal with. Hot and moist? No. No way. It’s exhausting.

If you’re in the UK and experiencing this drought, you may have noticed a distinct autumnal quality to the woods lately.

But we aren’t experiencing early autumn, it’s simply the trees dropping their leaves in an attempt to stay alive by diverting all the resources they have to essential functions only. That’s kind of how I’ve been feeling lately, now I come to think of it.

Some areas of my local woods are looking distincly forlorn, but other parts are doing just fine. Better than normal, in fact, because now we aren’t having any lockdowns, a lot less people are coming here for their exercise. As such this area has gone back to being overgrown just like it was pre-covid. There’s a lot less litter about, too (although still lots of abandoned poo bags, which is just flipping disgraceful).

On the 15th of August we were forecast rain for the next day, so I got every container that didnt have holes in the bottom out in the garden to catch any rain we might get. That’s in addition to the water butt. The ground is so hard and dry, if we do get any significant rain it just runs off instead of soaking in, so I thought I’d catch what I could.

We did get rain the next day, but it was only a few spots that evaporated almost instantly. Very disappointing. So that’s where they have stayed, empty, since the 15th. In fact, this morning is the first time since I don’t even know when that it really rained, and goodness me am I relieved. I’ve only been watering the plants I cannot bear to lose, and I especially couldn’t stand to use up all the water it would have taken to keep the grass green. It’ll bounce back just fine, and at least I haven’t had to worry about cutting it.

This morning we had a deluge and not only is the water butt completely full once more, things in the garden that have been struggling for weeks are already looking transformed.

That’s the very same bush, would you believe.

It’s still raining gently this afternoon, and although it is still humid the air has definitely cleared significantly. Hopefully it will be tolerable for work tonight, because last night was… damp. I managed to grab an impromptu night’s holiday after only being there for an hour-and-a-half, and I was already drenched in sweat. It doesn’t help that the forklift trucks are powered by a half-ton battery which gets hot when you use it, so you’re basically spending 8 hours sitting on a heater. Yuk.

Me, personally? I’m very much looking forward to real autumn and (hopefully) a more manageable climate to exist in for the time being. I’m also seriously hoping I manage to get my act together in terms of weight loss so I can have a much more comfortable summer next year, one I’m able to much better cope with.

Then again, I’ve been saying that for two years now! Still, I can but try.

Hayley x

Gibberish

Just in the nick of time I’m starting to feel better. Not perfect, but better. On Saturday I got out into the garden for a bit of clearing up and it was the first time I’ve done something in the last few weeks without really having to force myself to do it, or without having intrusive ‘what’s the point’ or ‘it won’t be good enough’ thoughts racing through my brain. What a relief to have a bit of peace.

Almost all of Sunday was spent working on my latest project, which is a) the cutest thing ever and b) really good for switching my brain off. Once I get started, that is. There is always the initial battle of starting it in the first place, but never mind that.

So what is this magical thing I have discovered? It is… KNITTING! It’s thanks to my sister that I discovered this in the first place after she sent me the sweetest little video on Instagram. It was of a knitted frog by a superb knitter named India Rose Crawford, and I strongly advise you to look at her photos and videos on Instagram (link) if you want to feel warm and fuzzy inside. I thought it would be such a nice surprise for my sister if I could get hold of one for her.

It didn’t take much investigation before I realised these froggos are in extremely high demand, but it was equally easy to find the person who made the original pattern – Claire Garland, AKA DotPebblesKnits (link). She’s a bonafide genius – how she even begins to come up with her patterns I cannot imagine.

So, despite the fact that I cannot knit, I bought the pattern from Claire’s Etsy shop (link).

When I first opened the PDF of the pattern, to say I was overwhelmed is an understatement. Have you ever seen a knitting pattern? At first glance they look like utter gibberish, and I was quite convinced that if my sister was getting a frog, I would not be the one making it. Thankfully my mum is a talented knitter, so I printed off the instructions and asked her if she thought it would be possible for her to teach me how to do it.

She was confident she could, so I raided her wool stash and got practicing.

Do you know, it actually isn’t as hard as I first thought! First of all you have to decipher what the hell the pattern is telling you to do, but once you speak the language, that part is easy enough. Some of the actual stitches… they’re easy enough too, but with some of them, even watching Youtube videos, I just couldn’t get my head around what was happening there. Mum was on hand to help me though, and with her guidance I learned enough to be able to make the frog. I now know knits, purls, wraps and turns, knit front-to-backs, i-cords and all kinds of other things. And in the right combination, those things make up this…

I mean seriously. I cannot get over the cuteness.

It was not all plain sailing for me, because if you read my last post you know that my brain has not been in tip-top working order lately. The thing about knitting is that it’s very easy to lose your place and go wrong, and I don’t know enough yet to be able to easily rectify my mistakes. That meant starting over when I zoned out and forgot what I was doing, which was… often.

It forced me to practice staying in the moment, and then I’d get into a state of flow which was actually heaven. All that would be going through my mind would be knit, purl, knit, purl, wrap, turn, knit, knit, knit, knit, knit. Or I’d just be counting my stitches, so I’d be perfectly focused on not losing count. One, two, three, four, five… now purl… one, two, three, four, five…

Once I’d done the head and body I was well into it, and other than accidently knitting the first one-and-a-half legs I made inside out (I had to undo them and start again), I was able to figure out the instructions from that point on by myself.

Once I was finished, I could see the bits that weren’t quite right, all the imperfections, and I almost talked myself out of giving it to my sister at all. But I also knew further attempts probably wouldn’t be that much different, so I decided to give it to her anyway, warts and all. I also made a little jumper for him, but I’d already given him to my sister before I realised that in our photo session he’d been completely naked. But that’s not important.

When I handed froggo over yesterday, it got the exact reaction I’d been hoping for – my sister was over the moon. As if I could have waited till December to give it to her! Never in a million years could that have happened.

Once Mr Frog was safely handed over to my sister, we started our day. It’s become something of a tradition to have an art day together either in the summer or the winter – we just sit down together and make art just for the fun of it. How utterly wholesome!

First of all we took Newton for a walk in the park before it got too hot for him, and had a coffee at the visitors centre. I love me a good visitors centre, and what’s more, dogs are allowed in there so neither of us had to wait outside with him. Did you know that such a lot of shops in the UK are dog-friendly? You can even get a Puppucino from Starbucks (which of course does not contain coffee because giving dogs caffeine is a big no-no).

That done we sat down to our painting. I was still feeling in a frog mood, so this is what I made:

Then we had a Newton walk/coffee break before I painted my second thing of the day, a colourful sea scape:

I was so worried that I wouldn’t be in the mood for art during art day, but I needn’t have been. It was so good for the soul, and I had the best day. It was also nice to practice being out and about before going back to work tonight. I am not relishing the thought of being around lots of people, but I can do it.

Recently I’ve felt so awful that I doubted if I would ever be OK again, but now I’m starting believe that actually, I will. Just because I felt so bad for that period of time, doesn’t mean I’m doomed to stay that way forever, or to repeat it. I have to believe that better things are coming, and it’s not a given that I (or life) will mess it all up. After all, was yesterday not a wonderful day, even though I didn’t have the greatest of hopes for it? Yes, it was.

It ain’t over yet.

Hayley x

Hard Times

Whenever I have a few days in a row of feeling I good, I think this is it, I’ve cracked it! I’m going to hold on to this feeling and NOTHING is going to stop me. Then I feel bad again, and I can almost believe I brought it on myself. Shouldn’t have had a nice thought, should I, I was obviously asking to feel bad. I started to wonder if I’m stuck in some neverending cycle… well I’m stuck in a cycle alright, but I’ve likely got a good decade yet before I’m able to be free of it.

Having periods suck. I’ve always struggled around that time, and thought it was just normal and that I was weak for feeling dreadful at least two weeks out of every four. But then as things like this get talked about more on social media, it seems that what I’ve been going through since puberty is not a universal experience. Every single GP I’ve ever seen has shrugged it off, but it’s not normal.

I get by though. Well, usually. As time goes on it gets harder and harder to cope with it, and it’s all mixed up with other issues I have. Basically right now I don’t know my arse from my elbow, and I am not ok with that. I feel like I’m drowning. One thing I know is that things are usually quite bad for me, but once a month, it’s infinitely worse. I also know something has to change because I cannot go on like this.

There’s also past things to deal with. I’ve always been someone who struggled with regulating emotions, then after a bad five-year relationship I hardened a lot (read: turned into a cold-hearted bitch). I opened up later, got hurt more than ever, hardened again, then just recently I started to really feel things again. All well and good until something bad came along and I couldn’t deal with it. Feeling things means feeling all the things. I forgot about that part.

This started off with someone being a bit mean to me at work, which resulted in me absolutely spiraling… like, crying in the toilets and completely unable to stop myself. I just had to wait for it to pass. Absolutely absurd. The person in particular was mean because I was basically doing my job too much, which would normally have me telling said person where to go, but it turned into a paranoid week of ‘absolutely everyone I’ve ever known and loved secretly hates me’.

Then little Newty got sick. He’s OK now but there were a few days there where we really weren’t sure if he was going to make it. At that point I just… shut down.

I was worried sick about that doggo, who thankfully is recovering nicely and well on his way to being his old self, but it was just one thing too much and I couldn’t handle it. After we knew he was going to be ok, I thought I’d go back to ‘normal’ myself, but since then things have been… weird.

I have even less energy than usual, concentrating on anything has been virtually impossible, I’m clumsy (I even fell over the other day) and if I’m trying to think (as in, I’m trying to concentrate on not totally losing my mind) I need COMPLETE AND UTTER SILENCE otherwise I feel an almost uncontrollable rage. It’s like I need to use all of my energy on staying in existence. On top of that, things don’t exactly feel real right now, or maybe I don’t feel like I’m real, not sure which, which may well be dissociation.

Not that a medical professional could enlighten me, because when I finally got an appointment with a ‘mental health practitioner’ she asked me if I’d tried PrActicING MindFuLNesS. Yes, sure, after thirty years of mental illness, I’m calling you because I’m at breaking point, I’ve just spent 40 minutes on the phone to you telling you about all of my issues and that’s what you suggest. I asked to be signed off work while I’m feeling spaced out because it’s really not safe to drive a forklift truck when you aren’t sure if you’re a person or not, and her response? Well, you really should have asked for a note a week ago, you’ve left it a bit late.

Except… I DID ASK FOR ONE A WEEK AGO AND THEY TOLD ME I HAD TO HAVE AN APPOINTMENT WITH YOU FIRST. THAT IS ONE OF THE REASONS WE ARE SPEAKING NOW.

Response? ‘Oh’.

This is why I never try asking for help. This is the ‘help’ you get.

But I’m at the stage where I can’t not ask for help, and I know it’s going to take a fight to get it. I’m so tired though, I don’t want to fight!

Aaaanyway. I have booked a face-to-face doctor’s appointment, and I only have to wait a month for that. During that time, on my good days, I’m going to be researching to get all the information on the things that are most likely wrong with me, and when I see the doctor I am not going to let him dismiss my symptoms. Because the first doctor did that nearly twenty-five years ago when he told me it was normal for sixteen-year-old me to have a beard, and do you know what? I’ve had enough of not being listened to. Carrying on day-to-day means having some kind of belief that things might actually improve somewhere down the line, and they haven’t been improving with me trying to do it alone. I’m taking a deep breath and seeing where this goes.

In the meantime, even though it’s the very last thing I want to do, I’m going to make a concerted effort to get outside. I know it will help, and I know I need to do it every day. It feels… naughty, being off work and going for a walk in the woods, but what else can I do at this point?

I’ve also found a new craft which is absolutely perfect for turning my brain off, because I don’t have to concentrate too much, but also if I zone out completely I have to go back and start again. I’m using it to practice not zoning out before I go to work, and also to stop unwanted thoughts. It’s nice to have a little break from my racing mind from time-to-time. I would tell you what it is now, but I’m making a gift for my sister and if I tell you what it is she might guess what I’m making. It was supposed to be a gift for her birthday in December, but in reality there’s no way on earth I can wait that long to give it to her. I can’t wait to show you guys either.

After a very moany load of paragraphs (I felt like I just really needed to get that out) I will leave with something positive. So here is a beautiful dahlia, ‘cafe au lait’, which has somehow survived heatwaves, slugs, snails and neglect to turn into an absoute stunner. What can I say, she’s more resilient than me!

Hayley x