I am currently in a bit of a lull. I am okay. Things are going steady at the moment yet I am waiting for something to go horribly wrong. My life being a shit show has become habit, feeling like crap feels normal and right now it feels extremely strange not feeling like crap. A part of me fears going back to that state; another part wants it because it’s comfortable. I have to get use to this new comfortable, that everything is okay, not great, not amazing happy life, but okay.
The puppies are keeping me busy, distracted and amused. Ziggy obviously is my rock but having five bundles of joy wagging their tails and trying to grab my attention at any given moment is pretty great too. I step into their pen and they swarm around my feet, snatching at my shoelaces or biting my achilles. I’ll sit with them and they climb all over me, one always trying to get to my face. Their teeth like needles sink into my clothing and scratch the surface of my skin. My hands are cut up and rough between the cold weather and the puppies scratches.
I ride out once, sometimes twice a day and I love it. Horses really are my therapy. I don’t think the man I ride for, Dave, will ever realise just how much it helps me. Dave always thanks me for riding his horses, telling me how much it helps him but it is me who is gaining the most from this. I have told him how much it helps me, and I don’t think he and his wife realise just how much of a purpose they are giving me. Not only is it a purpose but also it’s responsibility and commitment. Dave is slowly building me back up without even knowing he’s doing it.
Every time I think of pushing the boat out and getting back into work as a therapist, I get scared and recoil. I think I am scared of failure. When I trained as a Soft Tissue Therapist I was rearing to go. As a student I could treat five to ten people a week and I loved it. To me the more bodies I put my hands on the better, we had to log 100 hours of hands on work, I did 200. When I qualified I was treating two to five people a day. I had enthusiasm and a dream to succeed, to thrive at what I now loved.
I have had 17 months off, and treated a few people at the end of last year. Susan, the lady who started the school I trained in, NLSSM, has moved to 10 minutes down the road. I can only thank the universe for this gift. Susan has encouraged me to get back into it. She has had me treat her, which I can tell you was pretty nerve racking but at the same time a huge compliment, because I know she wouldn’t let just anyone put their hands on her. She’s told me that my hands on skills are good and that she will make a full time therapist of me yet (again).
I want to work, I do. I loved what I did and I want to carry on doing it. But I’m just not ready to do it full time yet, hell I’m hardly ready to do it part time. I would love to see a client or two a week but sometimes that even scares me.
Perhaps for now I just need to sit in my lull and enjoy it. Become comfortable and then board. Once I am board, hopefully then I’ll be ready to start doing more.
Sometimes I think that I’m lazy – I hate the word lazy, people who do not understand mental ill health use it, in my opinion, sociality makes me believe that lazy is the word for me. It’s not; recovery is a better choice of words. And in my recovery, I am finding the beautiful in the ugly and stitching it into my life.
I have a good routine in my life at the moment and yes, by the time it starts getting dark I feel that I should be curling up and settling in for the night but that’s okay. Many people feel like this at this time of year and that is okay, not lazy, perhaps I am just resting for the longer days of summer to come.