Day 37

My giraffe onesie: what I wanted to be snuggled up in all day. Turns out I have a cold which would explain the fatigue. Before I realised this, here is what I wrote.

Well. My new start went well. I failed to even take a picture yesterday. I have had all sorts of thoughts about what I could do about it but actually I think I shall just leave yesterday. Yes, there will be a blank but who really cares? Does it really matter?

I will just briefly say that yesterday I had a day of pretty low motivation. It took a trip round the corner to see Lizzie to get me going. Then I had my bible study to lead. At the time it didn't feel too bad but afterwards my head was such a fog. There was definitely a lot of guilt, anxiety and depression in there. And reassurance that maybe I wasn't so OK. Actually Lizzie had been super reassuring about the whole work worry. She said it would take a while to get used to my new 'normal'.

Anyway, today. I had plans to go into Tyndale at some stage (was meant to go Monday but moved it to Tuesday and then on Tuesday I moved it to today). There was no particular hurry though. I ate too much junk when I woke up and then I went back to sleep until midday. I had wondered whether I wanted to go to see my old tutor but I felt guilty about it. And, yes, ended up sleeping till the end of her office hours.

I got up to go to the loo and then thought I should probably seize the opportunity to just go to Tyndale. Some guilt and indecisiveness later, Rhoda helped persuade me that I could get the bus. I couldn't really be bothered to cycle but I don't really have spare money. Anyway, it's done now! I'm on the bus, as I write.

I had a bit of time between the decision to get the bus and having to leave. The plan was to sort out my stuff but I ended up just sitting on my bed with a foggy head; I just couldn't work out what I was doing and I couldn't really be bothered either. There were moments of sadness too. I guess I kind of feel similarly slowed down and unbothered now on the bus. But at least I am writing this.

I am probably writing this as I want to prove to myself that I am still ill...

This whole preoccupation with being better is really quite annoying but it was really helpful that Lizzie thought it was totally understandable. It is quite nice though to have that slowed down, can't be bothered feeling - I think it is when that is missing that I really panic I might be fine.

I deliberately sat in a seat on the bus where people couldn't easily see what I was writing but I still feel a bit like the person behind me is staring into the back of my head. Why would they though? And if they are, what is so bad about that? They definitely can't see what I am writing. And actually even if they could, they don't know me so it shouldn't even matter.