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lucifersprizeI've had a bad winter with a lot of missed meds and dysfunction, expensive failures of everyday items that I can't afford etc. I won't mull on that.
Finally though, as the weather starts to lift the sunshine showed itself in more ways than one.
I've been beating myself up all winter over not managing to plant all my bulbs and winter flowers last autumn. Then the snow cleared, this happened and I realised that in a garden that had been totally bare when I moved in last year, right outside my back door there was a glorious little patch of flowers.
I hadn't planted it all, but it was enough. The pansies had survived in tiny seedling pots (just) so I got to work adding them in to pots in the front garden where an assortment of hardy flowers have survived too.
I found a doctor at the new surgery who isn't too scared to get permission to prescribe a whole month of my slightly off-norm meds. The way the young doc was prescribing was a week at a time which was disastrous because a) it is way expensive and b) I wasn't well enough to get into the chemist every week for them - and so would go the vicious circle no meds- downhill slide/unable to attend doctor appointments/withdrawal/rock bottom/doctor appt/start again with start-up side effects.
I have an appointment soon for the psychiatrist in this region which I hope will iron out so much more because the drugs and support that I had in the last place I lived were much more accessible through the GP. Here much of it can only be given on the psychiatrist's say-so.
I am haphazardly volunteering at a local charity shop, when I remember to go and the manageress is an absolute angel who understands why forgetting to turn up happens. It feels good to be useful when I can, without being labeled a disaster when I can't.
This happened to my youngest child
I mean, seriously, how can that even be? He grew up. I no longer have any school children. He's passed his cbt (bike training -perverts) and bought the moped with his first wage. He is now offically trainee supervisor for two local hotels, which I feel ain't bad for a 16 year old who really, really couldn't stick school. It is a huge wedge of stress of my shoulders, and his too because legally here you have to attend school until 18 unless an employer commits to a structured training scheme. He just wanted to get into the world to work, and his employers are stellar.
Then today, after hitting rock bottom with my finances, my son decided to question what I'd been told about me not being eligible for benefits. He went with me to the offices, sat down and told them the circumstances and apparently - lo and behold, the government benefits advisor who had told me that I wasn't eligible for help with rent and council tax (and made me feel worthless) was apparently WRONG and it doesn't apply until my son is 18. Even then it will depend on his wage/training situation. I can't get it backdated but once I wrestle with the forms, the lovely, helpful lady was confident that I should get a lot more help, financial and otherwise. I won't be rich, but I may not get evicted.
With this in mind I got a little excited and went on a bit of a spending spree,
and it's a little sad that this feels like real luxury but I've got used to making do with milk bread, eggs and a few frozen items from Farmfoods. So yay for fresh fruit and veg, some real juice and branded cereal ('cos the cheap versions are just tasteless). The cheap basil and celery means I can make some awesome tomato soup with the plethora of canned tomtoes that have built up.
As for the cream eggs - well I wanted something to silly give the (grown up) kids for Easter and look...
knitted chickens that lay chocolate eggs!
As for the floofs - although I miss Tiny, the gerbils are great company. Cookie and Cream probably won't ever like to be handled, which I miss, but they are also super cute, and when I really need to be mindful, it is easy to do that by watching them engineer tunnels and interact with each other. They are absolute darlings and great night time companions.
After four years these two have decided to bury the hatchet and make friends
And Pixie? Well, Pixie passed her yearly MOT and is still trundling. There are some repairs pending, so we'll take it a bit a time but for now I remain mobile in my slightly damp jalopy.
Sometimes I forget to take all the wins and celebrate them, so today's post is about acknowledging some very good things have happened. Good things will happen again.
Finally though, as the weather starts to lift the sunshine showed itself in more ways than one.
I've been beating myself up all winter over not managing to plant all my bulbs and winter flowers last autumn. Then the snow cleared, this happened and I realised that in a garden that had been totally bare when I moved in last year, right outside my back door there was a glorious little patch of flowers.
I hadn't planted it all, but it was enough. The pansies had survived in tiny seedling pots (just) so I got to work adding them in to pots in the front garden where an assortment of hardy flowers have survived too.
I found a doctor at the new surgery who isn't too scared to get permission to prescribe a whole month of my slightly off-norm meds. The way the young doc was prescribing was a week at a time which was disastrous because a) it is way expensive and b) I wasn't well enough to get into the chemist every week for them - and so would go the vicious circle no meds- downhill slide/unable to attend doctor appointments/withdrawal/rock bottom/doctor appt/start again with start-up side effects.
I have an appointment soon for the psychiatrist in this region which I hope will iron out so much more because the drugs and support that I had in the last place I lived were much more accessible through the GP. Here much of it can only be given on the psychiatrist's say-so.
I am haphazardly volunteering at a local charity shop, when I remember to go and the manageress is an absolute angel who understands why forgetting to turn up happens. It feels good to be useful when I can, without being labeled a disaster when I can't.
This happened to my youngest child
I mean, seriously, how can that even be? He grew up. I no longer have any school children. He's passed his cbt (bike training -perverts) and bought the moped with his first wage. He is now offically trainee supervisor for two local hotels, which I feel ain't bad for a 16 year old who really, really couldn't stick school. It is a huge wedge of stress of my shoulders, and his too because legally here you have to attend school until 18 unless an employer commits to a structured training scheme. He just wanted to get into the world to work, and his employers are stellar.
Then today, after hitting rock bottom with my finances, my son decided to question what I'd been told about me not being eligible for benefits. He went with me to the offices, sat down and told them the circumstances and apparently - lo and behold, the government benefits advisor who had told me that I wasn't eligible for help with rent and council tax (and made me feel worthless) was apparently WRONG and it doesn't apply until my son is 18. Even then it will depend on his wage/training situation. I can't get it backdated but once I wrestle with the forms, the lovely, helpful lady was confident that I should get a lot more help, financial and otherwise. I won't be rich, but I may not get evicted.
With this in mind I got a little excited and went on a bit of a spending spree,
and it's a little sad that this feels like real luxury but I've got used to making do with milk bread, eggs and a few frozen items from Farmfoods. So yay for fresh fruit and veg, some real juice and branded cereal ('cos the cheap versions are just tasteless). The cheap basil and celery means I can make some awesome tomato soup with the plethora of canned tomtoes that have built up.
As for the cream eggs - well I wanted something to silly give the (grown up) kids for Easter and look...
knitted chickens that lay chocolate eggs!
As for the floofs - although I miss Tiny, the gerbils are great company. Cookie and Cream probably won't ever like to be handled, which I miss, but they are also super cute, and when I really need to be mindful, it is easy to do that by watching them engineer tunnels and interact with each other. They are absolute darlings and great night time companions.
After four years these two have decided to bury the hatchet and make friends
And Pixie? Well, Pixie passed her yearly MOT and is still trundling. There are some repairs pending, so we'll take it a bit a time but for now I remain mobile in my slightly damp jalopy.
Sometimes I forget to take all the wins and celebrate them, so today's post is about acknowledging some very good things have happened. Good things will happen again.
