Feel the Fear and Heal Your Life

Since I last blogged, I’ve finished my contract, had three weeks of jobsearching and started a new contract. Unfortunately, we’ve been a poorly household during that time. Tummy bugs hit the family all round, hitting the Husband and Eldest Child the hardest, and last week I fell down the stairs and hurt my ankle.

It was actually only the bottom two steps, but given the pain I thought I’d broken a bone. After lying on the floor screaming for a while, and four hours in A&E, it was confirmed that I hadn’t broken anything but sprained my ankle and foot. And a week later, they’re still hurting a very great deal. I’ve been told to rest, but I am a mother-of-three with a full time job, so that’s not as easy as it could be – and the Husband has been poorly as well. So most of the time I’m not at work, I’m sitting on the sofa with my ankles in tubigrip (oddly the other ankle hurts just as much) and taking wall to wall painkillers.

Meanwhile, I still haven’t had any alopathic treatment for my colitis. No sign of the promised appointment. I’m drinking peppermint tea and taking marshmallow root, and the worst of the symptoms have eased off considerably, but I feel helpless and frustrated, and when I think about it, worried about what would happen if I had a really bad flareup.

So since I’m not one to sit around without a plan, I decided to investigate why my body appears to be falling apart at the moment. I’ve heard a lot about Louise Hay, and You Can Heal Your Life, so I went onto Amazon and ordered a second hand copy. I also ordered several other self-help books, including Feel the Fear and Do It Anyway, and books about how to love your body. I figure even if they don’t help, they can’t hurt…

Despite my efforts to be pro-active about my health, the combination of a new circumstance (new contract), fairly constant pain, worry about the colitis, worry about the rest of my poorly family, and the very short days and horrible weather, have all taken their toll on my mental health. Because I’m on a high dose of antidepressant, I’m not feeling desperate in any way, not miserable, just, not happy. Tired all the time. Feeling unable to cope, or at least, that I need a lot of time and determination to actually do anything. I’m cold most of the time, I never want to get out of bed in the morning, and I feel as if I can never have enough sleep…

I’m guessing however, that I am far from the only person feeling like this. There is a theory which I firmly believe that winter celebrations of all religions and cultures sprang up as an antidote to the winter blues. Living in a Jewish/Pagan household, as soon as I feel I can safely move around again, I’ll be throwing myself into the Chanukah/Winter Solstice preparations and festivities. But until then – well, sitting on the sofa feeling sorry for myself is the order of the day.

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