rowanberry: (Default)
The cold is making the bones of my wrists and arms ache. Not sure if this is a new variation of the old Raynaulds, or just a Being Older thing. Or - more likely - hormones. On Monday I had the the fun of Chronic Pain Roulette again with a stabbing game of "is it a UTI or am I ovulating?!" I should know by now - it's always ovulation. And yet... every time I catch myself out wondering whether I need a doctor's appointment or not.

Feeling bleak today. Ice everywhere and the afternoon dragged on, bland and empty, and everything I tried to do just left me frustrated.

Talked through some of my disconnect with my counsellor this morning. There's a lot of floating going on in my brain, and I hadn't realised how much of that disconnected feeling might be anger - at other people's expectations, at the sense of loss and betrayal, at the feeling of invisibility. It was interesting. More work to be done there.
rowanberry: (thalassa thalassa)
A lot of old grief got dredged up last weekend, and the shadows are still hanging around like ugly curtains. Not sure how to handle them yet, since I can't afford a therapist just now. I feel like it's too early to jump straight back to medication even though it's tempting - at least I know it works now and when I feel the way I have done lately anything that works looks like a golden egg. Looking at the trees instead and trying to remember there's life hiding there where I can't see it, and apply the same belief to myself. Hard, though. This is my first winter without medication in years. It's bleaker than I'd like.

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Janie

January 2020

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