I was up this morning at around 6.45 am to get ready and be down at the beach for a 7.30 am cardio class. Getting my legs to swing out of bed to allow my feet to touch the floor is the hardest part. Once that happens I am kind of okay with the rest of the stuff. Get dressed and get going.
Today was loosely based on last week only in a different section. Running along sandy tracks, up ramps, running into a head wind, running up and down stairs. Variations of a theme which is to make me empty my morning energy tank within an hour.
On the way home I picked up bread from the bakery and then once home I sat and had toast for breakfast. This was followed by left over cheese from book club. I then had to throw the cheese out because I don't need to have double brie cheese in my fridge free for the taking. I will just eat it, feel ill and then eat more, feel ill and so on.
The rest of the day was spent just doing the usual household things around the house. These activities were broken by periods of time spent sitting on the lounge chair fiddling with my phone because I was so tired after my exercise. Then I snoozed a bit. To clear my head I took Mr Benny for a 3km walk and that helped.
All in all, it was one of those days where not much was achieved but I was okay with it. I'll catch up tomorrow.
My son went to a party last night. He drank a bit much but had a great time. It was an 18th birthday party and there were about 100 people there. All kids had to be signed off the list and had to provide a note (or sms permission) from their parents that they were allowed to drink if they were under 18. Parties are quite different these days. Although he had a great time he said he is kind of over parties for a while. I think it is because he has to pay for his drinks and his drink selection is a bit pricey.
S is going out with friends for his 18th to some ratty bar in the city. The three of us will go out for dinner but he wants nothing else. I am okay with that but I like to offer and give him the right of refusal (or acceptance). People don't always like to celebrate their birthdays in a big way.
I've done very little in regards to my art work. It is as though I cannot move on it. The ideas are there and I jot them down to attend to later. The visual aspects to what I want to draw are in my head but I just cannot motivate myself to get into it. I do other stuff and not very interesting stuff either - houseworky shit. I dread that I will be the same in ten years time. The epic creative procrastinator. I even have the book of all my drawings 90% finished and still I just don't pull my finger out and finish it completely. It's just very frustrating. The harder I try, the more it becomes an issue.
I sometimes wonder if the medication I take is a bit inclined to make me less motivated. The idea of taking the mood stabilisers is to even my mood out and it does that. The idea of taking the anti depressant is to stop the chronic and pervasive depression and it does that too. But by removing the mood swings and taking away the depression I feel as though the medications have taken away the extremes I used to experience which were great drivers for getting my art work done. Nowadays I feel quite numb. Sort of like "the lights are on but nobody's home" sensation. The anti depressants are the ones that do that - the last time I took them the same issue happened. Hmmmmm. It's a bit shitful.
However, tempted as I am at times to go off the medication and just feel those huge emotions, I can still recall, as though it were yesterday, how utterly awful I felt in 2013 when I was really, really losing it and towards the end of 2013 when I was sitting on the bathroom floor with my head in my hands trying to hold in the pressure building up and the screaming sensation going on inside my skull. I can recall lying in bed and saying to K how frightened I was by what was happening in my head. Since I never spoke like that then you can imagine how concerned he was. And I can still picture me sitting in the office with K because I was too scared to be on my own while I felt the way I did. Why would I want to go back to that?
The other day I when I was at work I put my headphones on to block out the office noise. I don't listen to music, I listen to binaural beats accompanied by a particular noise as it helps me relax and focus. These days I choose forest noises. When I was experiencing "bad head" I used to listen to the binaural beats with a tribal noise. I accidentally chose this combination on Thursday and hearing it made me panic because all of the feelings I had at the time rushed back into me and it felt as though it were happening again. I was quite surprised and it took a while to stop thinking about how such a little thing could do that.
So, it's a price to pay isn't it. Medication alleviates some awfully unpleasant things. Yet it takes away something quite life giving. I will just have to approach my artwork in a different way, I just need to work out how. Perhaps if I schedule time in for it, just as I do with exercise. At a certain time each week I just sit down and do my art work. I've thought of that and part of me actually thinks my art work is not important enough to schedule time for. It's something I should approach after everthing else is done. Is it because I consider it a pleasureable activity and thus I'm somehow being self indulgent if I do it?
Well, it's late. Past my bedtime. Tomorrow is Sunday and I need to be a bit organised. I want to get up earlyish and get stuff done in the morning.
Then maybe do my artwork.
Or at least think a lot about it.
Where's that kick up the arse when you need it?