Thoughts & Scribblings...

Morning, f-list. :) Although most of you are probably eating dinner at the moment. I suppose I should stick with a general "hello". This would be day one of my new resolve to post every day whether I have anything of importance to report or not. Last year's therapist told me to write, write, write, basically, so I should probably take her advice.

And this would not AT ALL be me procrastinating the walk I'm supposed to be doing this morning. My current exercise regime consists of twice-weekly walks on the treadmill. Unless it was the last two weeks, in which it consisted of walking around work and my house. Jillian Michaels, eat your heart out. I shall get my butt out of this chair and go downstairs for half an hour in a minute. Unless my feet get really sore like they did earlier in the week and I have to stop after fifteen minutes.

The days of semi-fitness are clearly just a fond memory right now! I plead winter as my excuse. It's effing freezing and dark until practically lunchtime (although that might be an indication that I need to get up earlier) and so hard to get motivated!

What do you all do, exercise-wise? Does anyone have more fun (and relatively low impact) suggestions than just walking? And yes, to be honest, I'm totally hoping that some of you are being just as sedentary as me, so I'm not the only lazy one.

Also - can anyone recommend any good food blogs that are written by people with normal, non-disordered eating habits? It's interesting that as I've recognised my own current eating issues, Ive become much more aware that the authors of a lot of the blogs I follow have some serious problems themselves. I'd like to read more blogs with interesting recipes and food journals that showcase a normal, healthy relationship with food, not just an extended summary of "ran five hundred miles this morning, then had a spinach smoothie and enormous salad for lunch".

I'm currently re-reading the Daisy Dalrymple mystery series by Carola Dunn, which I love and recommend to anyone looking for a light-hearted, fun series of books. They're set in 1920s England, are not horrific, gory or depressing, and Carola Dunn manages to write a mystery heroine who is sufficiently nosy to get herself involved in eighteen murders in eighteen different books, without coming across as irritating. Unlike the heroine of Joanne Fluke's Hannah Swenson baking mysteries, which I also read recently. They have great baking recipes in them, but one of the most annoying heroines I have ever come across. She's interfering, bossy, tactless, and can't make up her mind between the two men who (for some unknown reason) profess to be in love with her, even though one treats her like crap and the only reason she likes him is because he's "so handsome". The other guy, who admittedly is almost creepily loyal and has been saddled with the unfortunate name of Norman, is "kind, caring, sympathetic, perfect husband material", but Mike is "just so good-looking". Add "shallow" to the list. The heroine is frequently bothered by her lack of popularity compared to her two sisters and concludes that it's because they're, respectively, a gorgeous blonde and a gorgeous brunette, while she's a chubby redhead. Or maybe it's just because she's a complete pain in the ass. It boggles the mind sometimes that the main characters in mystery/suspense novels aren't bumped off within the first couple of chapters. I was frequently surprised that Poirot and Miss Marple in the Agatha Christie books were never murdered by anyone. Particularly Miss Marple. Given the number of murderers in her tiny village and her well-known propensity for hunting out every one of them, you'd think you would either move before you committed your crime or possibly get rid of the infallible village sleuth first.

I'm sorry I've been missing so much recently - including stuff at Metamorfic Moon. Disappointed that I missed the sign-ups, but I'll look forward to reading the new stories anyway.

Speaking of which, in case anyone missed it, Natalia Tena gave a new interview here. Quote on the DH pregnancy: "Tonks is over the moon and Lupin is freaking out. I ask you: What’s wrong with a sterile wolf cub that changes color? It’d be lovely. He’d be the coolest kid at school."

Awesome. :)

Right, now that I've successfully cut down the maximum time I can spend on the treadmill while still having enough time to shower and eat lunch before work to approximately twenty minutes, I'd better get some shoes on. Working all afternoon and then aiming to get to the gourmet shop before it closes to buy Valrhona chocolate.

Hope everyone has a great Friday!

ETA: And I've totally left it too late to do any kind of workout this morning. Treadmill will have to wait. LAZY.

SO behind with posting again. At least this time it's been for a positive reason! :) I've been really busy for the last week or so preparing my essay for the catalogue of the exhibition opening at work at the end of the month. Fortunately I was able to mash together the two chapters I've written for my thesis and use them as a framework, but I had to go back and do more research and more writing - and way more proofing! The editing and referencing has taken hours; I think my boss and I are each on about draft version 20 by this point. The catalogue looks like it's going to be very cool; my boss has involved me all the way through in the design process and it's actually pretty exciting, since it'll be my first properly published work. The essays are going to the designer this afternoon, we're expecting the first proofs back soon, and the catalogue should be out on the 29th July.

It's also been a good way to get me back into my research topic for my degree. I spoke to my supervisors last week (my primary supervisor in particular was extremely supportive) and I've applied to extend my deferral to take the full 12 months, meaning I'm due back in October. I feel quite good about that because I'll hopefully have been seeing my counsellor for awhile by then and the St. John's Wort will have had a chance to kick in. I actually do believe that the St. John's Wort and the Omega-3 supplements are helping. I had a bad couple of days after my appointment with that first psychiatrist, but the fact that I noticed how bad I felt is a good indication that for the majority of the time I've been having pretty good days. Fingers crossed that things keep improving! Speaking of that psychiatrist, I very politely (it really was politely) cancelled my upcoming appointments with her and she then proceeded to send me two borderline offensive and extremely unprofessional emails, basically along the lines of "well, good luck getting better without me, bitch". I showed them to several people, who were all shocked that an established therapist would actually be that peeved and that childish because somebody doesn't feel that they're the right fit. And that's actually not the reason I gave anyway; I just implied that I was going to keep using student health while I could for practical, economical reasons. In a way I'm glad that she responded so badly, though, because it's certainly eliminated any doubts I might have had about going with a different therapist.

I've managed to get an appointment with a new one, a younger woman who works at the same practice as the counsellor I had last year. First appointment on July 21, so hoping it goes well; I think it's really important to find someone who makes me feel comfortable, however, so I'll keep therapist shopping until I find someone suitable, if need be! I'm actually glad to be going back to the practice, because although it's expensive it's literally on the same block as the house that I lived in until I was thirteen. It's my area and it makes me feel better to be going there, rather than the office of an unfriendly, childish woman in the area of town that I like least.

Feeling pretty positive about the study at the moment, too. Being involved in the production of the catalogue has reminded me that until I was about seventeen and got waylaid by art history, I was pretty sure that I wanted to be a publishing editor. I think I still want to be a publishing editor. I've been so bogged down the last few years and feeling like I'm drifting, with absolutely no idea what I want to do with a potential PhD, that it's been a much-needed wakeup call to realise that yes, I do have specific career goals. And I honestly think that publishing and editing is something that I could be good at. She says, completely ungrammatically! No decisions on anything yet, but I've been doing a bit of research into postgraduate publishing/editing qualifications, which are mostly based on a coursework/internship framework, rather than another dreaded research thesis. There is a programme in New Zealand, which would be the cheapest option and it's good to know there's a back-up route. I could also do that one by distance and live in Cromwell for the year while doing it. There are also two great looking programmes, one at the London College of Communications and one at the University of Melbourne. The London MA is prohibitively expensive, but does have a few extremely competitive international scholarships attached to it. So that would be the incredibly long shot, but probably worth a try option. And Melbourne would also be expensive, but not quite so bad since New Zealanders can pay local student fees in Australia. And the point of that ramble was that I'm considering switching back into the Masters programme in October, aiming to finish my thesis as an MA in Art History by the middle to end of next year, then applying for a graduate programme in publishing in 2011. Maybe. Or maybe I'll do something completely different, but I'm feeling better about the fact that I have options.

On a less good note, can't help being very worried about my mum at the moment. A distant relative who has been putting together my maternal family tree (dating back to about 1750 or something! The woman is dedicated!) has established the fact that most of my family members tend to develop some form of terminal cancer at some time in their lives. Which is true, because I think three of my Grandad's five brothers and sisters died of cancer. The Researching Relative has instigated a series of genetic testing for anyone who wants it done; basically if a parent is tested and proves positive for the cancer gene, then their children are offered the test and so on. If you test positive, then you're offered regular screenings for breast, ovarian and pancreatic cancer (the latter two being particularly suck-o forms of cancer - thank you, crappy genes!) at a much younger age. Ironically, every single person has so far tested positive except the woman whose idea it was to get the testing in the first place. Apparently you have a 50% chance of inheriting it, so we're not doing so well so far. My mum and uncle are expecting their test results in August, then if they test positive, the tests will be offered to my brother and I, and our cousins. I know my mum is expecting hers to be positive, given that she's already had cancer. If you survive breast cancer, you have an 85% chance of not getting it again. But if you have this gene, the odds are similar that you will get it again. I honestly can't think about it too much, because worrying about that happening - to her, not to me - is the worst fear that I have in my life. Obviously, there's no point worrying about things when they haven't happened yet and might never happen, but it's impossible to tell that to your mind at times. If she does test positive, then she's thinking about having a double mastectomy which would at least up the odds in favour of avoiding a breast cancer recurrence. Honestly, I wish she would have the surgery anyway, but I know it's a huge decision.

And moving swiftly on, before my more upbeat post continues to go radically downhill... I had a stomach pain attack last week, which was incredibly irritating because I thought I was making progress there, but nothing significant since then, so hopefully it stays at a manageable level. I'd forgotten how painful and debilitating the stomach cramps can be, especially when there's really no warning, so I'm hoping that it is something I can mostly control through diet and lifestyle. I'm not sure the problem is IBS and I'm not keen to sign up for an endoscopy and colonscopy unless I absolutely have to, but IBS is a blanket term anyway. Obviously something is causing the problem and diet would be the easiest thing to control. My brother and his partner invited me to dinner on Saturday and I watched him eat four spicy burritos in about 23 seconds. Iron gut. And he's tall and thin. Why didn't I get those genes, universe?

My mum and I are going on a girls' week in Melbourne in December. I may have already mentioned that. But my dad and uncle are off to see Tiger Woods and do golf-y things in Australia in November, so my mum's decided that she and I should head off by ourselves the next month. Shopping! I'm thinking about adding on a Contiki tour while I'm there, as well, so that I - in some form - get part of the holiday that I missed out on in the UK.

And my HP fan girl has emerged from hibernation. I bought a ticket on a whim to see HBP next Wednesday morning. And I'm totally going by myself, despite the fact that I've never been to a movie alone before, because nobody would understand my H/G fangirling and I want to be able to enjoy the movie without distractions. I've waited long enough for it! My favourite book, my favourite couples; even if it's not the best movie, there was a time when any book or screen H/G was a doubtful prospect. And in OotP, I was happy when H/G and R/T were sharing the same frame, so I'm probably going to be easily pleased here. Does it make me a terrible, shallow person that I'm so relieved that Bonnie Wright has grown up pretty? Probably.

Remember how exciting it was when HBP was released and the couples went canon? I feel nostalgic for pre-2005. Bloody Deathly Hallows.

About to do my best to catch up with the news, but I hope you're all well and happy.

I had all my hair cut off! It turned out quite a bit shorter than I was expecting! My family loves it, surprisingly! (Although I suspect my Nana, who loves my hair best long and curly, will break down and weep, heh). My dad, especially, has told me about five times how much he likes it (I clearly maligned him because my dad doesn't cover it well when he doesn't like something and I was bracing myself for a less than enthusiastic response!). I don't know what I think yet; I've never had such short hair and it's a bit of a shock. No idea what it's going to look like curly, once I wash it!

Sorry I've been AWOL from LJ again! I've been getting myself sorted with the various appointments for the last week. I've had two appointments with my nutritionist now; she's actually about to go on maternity leave but I met her replacement this morning and she seems nice enough. So far, I'm to stick to the gluten and dairy-free diet for now, since it seems to be helping to control the IBS symptoms. I've now had two weeks practically symptom-free, which is fantastic. Not sure if it's the lack of dairy and gluten, the morning dose of Metamucil or the thrice-daily peppermint oil capsules that's doing the trick, but I'm too afraid of provoking an attack to mess around and experiment with it! Right now, I'll gladly settle for no pain and move on! She's also given me set goals to tackle in order to try to get back on track with normal eating, primarily adding an afternoon snack, letting someone else prepare meals for me occasionally and going out for afternoon tea with someone and splitting a food order.

The appointment with the new psychologist was this morning and was less successful. I basically left her office after an hour feeling like crap. She was very unsupportive about the university situation; it's true that it may be I don't want to go back and do the PhD, but I may also want to have another go at it (coinciding with lifestyle changes so it wouldn't be the way it was before) but she fairly flatly made out that I have no reason to do a PhD if I'm unlikely to want to lecture, "why would I do all that work just for a fancy piece of paper to hang on the wall", told me that I seem to have very little in my world right now, and didn't really listen to anything I said. I was quite upset afterwards; I've been booked in for four more appointments with her (and she wants me to go in once a week for the next 30 weeks!) but I really don't want to go back. I also don't want to be constantly chopping and changing, but I feel like it's really important to have someone to talk to who is going to listen and offer practical advice and support whatever I decide to do, not someone who is going to imply that I don't know my own mind right now and tell me what I ought (and ought not) to be doing within ten minutes of meeting me. She was also very abrupt and impersonal, which didn't help. I'm not sure what to say to her, but I'm going to have to find a polite way of telling her that I'm not going to continue on with her, I think.

My previous psychologist from last year rang me up last week to see how I am and to let me know that she's taking extended leave from next week, but I looked at the staff profiles on the website for her clinic and there is another psychologist there who specialises in depression, stress and eating problems. She looks quite young and friendly enough in her photo, so I've rung up and asked if she has any available appointments. Unfortunately she's got a full client load at the moment, but the receptionist is going to talk to her, so fingers crossed I might get an appointment to at least meet her. I just don't want to leave a therapy appointment feeling 50 times worse about myself than when I went in there.

On a more uplifting note, I've decided to end my posts with at least three positive things going on at the moment!

1. I'm currently trying to scrape together an essay for the catalogue of an upcoming art exhibition in the gallery where I work. It is stressful, because I'm so lazy about research now out of practice with academic writing and Big Important People are going to be reading this catalogue with hyper-critical eyes, but if I can get it done, it'll be my first substantial piece of published writing, which could be a morale boost that I really need right now.

2. I'm having my haircut on Friday afternoon - which could, admittedly, turn into a less positive thing depending on the results! I've been trying to grow it for the last six months, but it's quite dry at the moment and something much shorter and lower maintenance would be useful at the moment. I'm trying out the hairdressing salon that I used to go to when I first started uni, for a change, so again - fingers crossed!

3. I made up a recipe for apple and apricot crumble in the weekend that's both dairy and gluten free, and it's SO YUMMY. I ate most of the batch myself; however, even the picky members of my extended family cleaned their plates, so success!

I was supposed to have my first appointment with the new therapist at 9am this morning.

Mother Nature intervened.





Instead I've spent the day not going to work, reading a Daisy Dalrymple mystery, eating soup and napping.

I'm not complaining.

New appointment, weather permitting, is next Wednesday morning, and hopefully I'll make it to the dietician tomorrow.

We're not in summer anymore, Toto Remus!

To make a change from constantly complaining about my various states of health, I'm going to post a couple of photographs of Remus and I that my mum took this afternoon. We've emailed them to the breeder to ask if she happens to have heard from any of the owners who adopted his brothers and sisters, and if she knows if the other puppies in the litter have grown into such HUGE dogs. Comparatively speaking; I grew up with an extremely overweight Golden Retriever, so I'm used to big dogs. But considering that Remus is a King Charles Cavalier Spaniel (small dog) and Miniature Poodle (small dog) cross (his parents weigh 7 and 8 kg respectively; at ten months old, Remus is already almost 15 kg) and we ended up with this...

Not Small Dog




Ignore the makeup-free face and frizzy hair, please. Mine, not his.

Nobody believes us that he's a Cavoodle! The staff at the pet shop thought he must be a Spoodle. I wonder if he's done growing yet? He's already almost too heavy to pick up. I did a very inelegant stagger-about in public the other day, trying to get him into the car.

Still here! :) Just taking things slowly at the moment, in every respect. Which obviously doesn't preclude my logging on to LJ; that was sheer laziness. Mentally, I'm actually feeling much better; I've kind of gone back to square one, where I was before the Unfortunate Incident with the medication. The anxiety attacks have stopped, thank goodness; I'm not a naturally jittery person, so I didn't handle it well, feeling so edgy. If I ever needed another reason not to start taking recreational drugs, that was it. Unfortunately, I'm gone back to where I was originally with the possible-IBS as well and started having pain attacks again last Monday. I'm going to ask the doctor to book me an appointment for a scan, I think; it's fairly doubtful that it will show anything, but at least it will help rule out anything that would be visibly obvious (I'm trying to avoid the endoscopy and - HORROR - colonoscopy route at this stage). The antidepressant option is out, so I'm going for a dietary and (tentative) herbal approach. I've started taking peppermint, fennel and ginger oil capsules three times a day after meals and it seems to be helping a little. The attacks have been less frequent and severe than they were last month, which is something. I just hate having to be constantly anticipating a flare-up.

I've gone back to my rice and oat milks, because an attempt at going back to cow's milk with breakfast made my face break out within two days. Lesson learned. And I've cut wheat out of my diet, because I think it's having a definite effect on my stomach problems. I was eating wholemeal bread before, but was told that too much insoluble fibre can exacerbate IBS (if it IS IBS) so I switched to white bread, but caused terrible indigestion, so I'm just going to try going without wheat and dairy at all for awhile to see if that makes a difference. Thank goodness dark chocolate contains neither. :D Nor does Orgran's gluten-free licorice, which I discovered yesterday. It's kind of doubly difficult at the moment, having to balance eating disorder recovery (and an attempt to get back to a normal relationship with food) with the fact that for entirely physical reasons this time, I have to be very aware of what I'm putting in my mouth at the moment. I have my first appointment with a nutritionist next Wednesday, though, so I'm hoping she can help me out there. Adventures into eating fish have been mixed. Tinned tuna is out; it stills looks and, I imagine, tastes like cat food. Tinned sardines were only marginally more successful. I didn't have to hold my nose, at least, but I couldn't stop it wrinkling the whole time I was eating lunch, and it didn't help when my mum took one look at my plate and said "EW!" (Unlike my Dad, for whom it nostalgically reminds him of the better parts of his boarding school days, she's not a fan of tinned fish). She made me fresh salmon kebabs with lemon sauce a couple of weeks ago, but we later realised it was a foolish first attempt at reintroducing animal protein. The salmon was FAR too much for my stomach to handle and I ended up sleeping with a towel and an ice cream container at my pillow. :S We've finally compromised with a tomato, vegetable and blue cod casserole, which is actually quite nice. I'm going to try for a five night vegetarian, two night fish ratio.

And how was that for more than anyone ever wanted to know about my eating habits? :) I will sneak in one more question before moving on! If anyone has any favourite wheat and dairy free recipes or products, I'd love suggestions. Especially for baked goods or bread. My first and so far only attempt at gluten-free bread this week resulted in a loaf that looked as if it had been baked circa 50 AD and recently extracted from a fossilized rock. I'm hoping that my stomach might be able to handle spelt, since that seems a bit easier to work with than the gluten-free flours and gums.

I had my consultation with the student health psychiatrist yesterday, which went quite well. She said that I'm obviously serotonin sensitive, and that medication wouldn't be the ideal first choice. RELIEF! She thinks that the three main issues that I need to work on (eating, body image and confidence) are all best treated with intensive, specific psychotherapy, so she's referred me to a clinical psychologist, with whom I have my first appointment next Tuesday. Her name is Marianne and she's one of the top therapists in the city for eating disorders, so I'm fairly hopeful about the sessions with her. She has one of my favourite names, so I'm sure that's a positive sign! The psychiatrist also recommended the main natural ways of boosting serotonin levels: sunlight, regular brisk walks, baths (making it good timing that we should have a new spa bath by the end of next week), and therapeutic massages.

I'm going to give St. John's Wort another try too, although I have something of a phobia about some herbal medications after what happened with the passionflower extract. For anyone who uses St. John's Wort, do you mind my asking what daily dosage you take? I picked up two different brands, each to be taken once a day, and then realised that one is 300mg and the other is 3000mg, which seems like a ridiculously large difference in dosage strength.

I've started back at work. At this stage, I think I'm going to stay on for the next couple of months, until the exhibition that I'm involved with open in August, and then think about handing in my notice. I'm due back at university then, so I'll either be resuming my PhD/MA or not. If I'm not, I won't be eligible to hold a student position and if I am, I'll most likely be picking up the thesis as an MA again, with the intention of finishing it before the end of next year, which means that I'll be wanting to fully concentrate on that. If I'm back at uni, I'm now ancient enough to qualify for the mature student allowance, which is fractionally more per week than I make at my job anyway. It would be nice to be free to go up to Cromwell every so often as well.

My parents are hoping to move to Cromwell in the latter half of next year and at this stage, my rough goal is to be done with university by then and to go with them. I'm not very happy in Dunedin anymore and I'd like to be based in Central Otago. I have no plans, job-wise, yet but I'm not stressing about that right now. One step at a time! There are a lot of boutique art galleries in Central, so that might be an option for awhile, even part-time. My main goal is to get back into writing again, and the landscape in Central (where Lord of the Rings was filmed) is far more inspiring! I've had an idea for a possible book, which is a huge improvement on the last year, when I've been pretty much drained of any enthusiasm whatsoever for creative things.

In general news, we've had people renovating the bathrooms for the past three weeks, which is now starting to wear extremely thin. Showering, toileting and handwashing all have to take place in different rooms, some upstairs and some down. And the team of plumbers, electricians and painters arrive at extremely early hours of the morning and tend to congregate in narrow hallways, blocking the route between my bedroom and anywhere else in the house. And my dad didn't even have the decency to hire attractive young builders who might feel inclined to work sans shirts, despite the fact that it's freezing outside. :)

Got The Sims 3 last week. I've only played it a little so far, but it seems fun! It can make me laugh, which is always a good thing at the moment. I was amused to see one of the personality traits that you can pick is "Never Nude", if you fancy controlling the life of a Sim with an aversion to removing his/her clothes. My Sim is a journalist and she keeps sneaking into the neighbours' yards to rummage through their rubbish bins. She comes back with all of their trash and then writes a scandalous expose on her findings. Needless to say, they all hate her.

I'm very behind on what's been happening, so I hope everybody is well and that the northerners are enjoying their summer! She says bitterly, as she sits in front of the heater in her thermals! Much hugs and love to everyone!

Hopefully I'm finally through what I think was the worst week of my life. Long story short, the second antidepressant drug basically caused me to flip out. After taking the third dose, I not only became uncontrollably hungry, with this awful painful hunger that was present whether I'd just eaten a meal or not, but my whole body went into this shaking state of constant anxiety. I couldn't get control of my thoughts and I was literally almost suicidal. I've never felt like that in my life, and it was terrifying. All I could do was sit on the couch, hold onto my mum, and cry. I was afraid to be left alone and I wasn't myself at all. I thought we were going to have to call the emergency psych services. Even my dad was in tears at one point, which is a pretty good sign of how bad it was. Made a very speedy trip back to the doctor for the hundredth time this month and was prescribed yet another antidepressant, which I didn't want to take and which resulted in my freaking out even more. I don't actually blame her for prescribing the new drug, since I was in such a state that I don't think any of us knew what else to do. I felt like I was being forced into something I didn't want to do, but I didn't see any other option, and it was a horrible feeling. I'm incredibly thankful, however, that I had to wait three days before starting the new meds to let the other ones leave my system. By Friday, I was feeling much more rational and I even managed to attend my Nana's 80th birthday and hand around plates of sausage rolls. I had a minor burst of panic at the beginning, but thankfully it passed. I'm still getting periodic bursts of anxious adrenaline that makes me feel a bit panicky, partly because I've definitely had problems with depression but never with anxiety attacks, but I'm hoping that they'll become less of a problem once the drugs are completely gone and I've had a chance to recover from the shock of the whole experience a bit.

What it comes down to is that at this time I definitely don't want to be on antidepressants. The ONLY positive to the whole crappy week is that it's shocked me into properly acknowledging the main issues that I think are seriously contributing to the depression, and that I'm hoping can be improved with therapy and diet and lifestyle changes. I went to student health and I've been assigned both a psychiatrist and a counsellor to work with, and I start therapy sessions in the next couple of weeks to deal with, primarily, anorexia and self-esteem issues. I became overweight as a teenager, which kicked off low self-esteem. In 2007 I managed to lose weight in a way that started off with healthy diet changes and exercise, and got completely obsessive and out of control. For well over a year, I've daily restricted my food intake, deprived myself of almost all fats, 'good' and 'bad', and pretty much mentally flagellated myself with negative thoughts and unnecessary guilt. In short, I've treated my body like crap, I've lived a fairly joyless existence and it's probably no surprise that I became depressed. I tend to be really tough on myself and when I was younger I didn't feel attractive, but I usually got fairly good marks at school. Thus, I put a lot of emphasis on academic success, since that was an area where I felt less of a failure than socially. When I started to struggle with the post-grad work, it felt like I was failing there too. And above all, I realise that I'm extremely fortunate in my family. My mother in particular has been the biggest and most constant source of love and support in my life (honestly, I'll never be able to thank her enough for how she kept propping me up last week) and I never questioned that I would always have her. Then she was diagnosed with cancer and I don't think I've ever properly acknowledged how much that shattered my sense of security.

So there you have it. I'm a gigantic mess. :) That was probably more personal information than anyone ever wanted to know about me, but I want to get it all out on my LJ, because I'm admitting my issues now and I want to try to work through them. Besides the therapy, I've started making diet changes. I hate doing it, because my vegetarianism has always been very important to me, but I really do think that I've become deficient in several nutrients and for my health I've started eating fish again. I don't think I'll ever be able to bring myself to eat meat or poultry again, but in terms of health, I think oily fish is the most beneficial non-vegetarian food source for me right now anyway. It's unfortunate that I never liked fish even before I stopped eating meat and I just about had to hold my nose while eating tuna for lunch today (I'm sorry; it looks like cat food). My mum has suggested that I try baked fish in a tomato sauce or something to try and disguise the taste a bit more.

I've also been having chocolate almost every day; I had spinach and ricotta pasta for tea last night; and at the party on Friday, I ate several of the catered sandwiches (I know that sounds like a ridiculous sort of 'achievement', but eating white bread sandwiches that were prepared by someone else is a big improvement on recent times when I've very rarely eaten away from home) and I had a small piece of cake. I hate that such stupid normal things should be difficult for me, but I'm trying really, really hard, and I already feel such a sense of freedom and relief now that I'm loosening up the restrictions. I need to learn that I can eat normally and that eating normally doesn't mean that I'll be overweight again.

It's really hard to explain what depression feels like to someone who has never experienced it, but it's a constant sort of weight on you, and the feeling that you're incapable of feeling genuine excitement and happiness. What was worrying me was that it will be impossible to get rid of that feeling without drugs, but I have to believe that it won't. Besides the fact that my experience thus far with psychiatric medication was terrifying, antidepressants might lift the 'heavy' feeling but they wouldn't cure me of an eating disorder, or miraculously vanquish my self-esteem issues, or lessen my anxiety about losing my mum. I don't think the latter worry will ever go away, but I hope that therapy and better physical health will help with the other issues. I've unfortunately been blessed worrying genes from both sides of my family, so I've always been a bit of a worrier, but I haven't always been depressed, and hopefully I won't always suffer from depression.

And in the meantime, I have a dog who is determined to give me daily and very wet kisses to help me get through. :)

I'm back home, having spent all day in hospital. My body was just out of control with the tremors and my mind was even worse, it's been really scary. The doctors think that it probably was the herbal supplement (strike one for the naturopath route!) and that it will hopefully pass out of my system over the weekend. I hope so. I've never felt like that before; fortunately my leg seems to have mostly calmed down and my arm is occasionally jerking about, but not all the time. I'm still in a slightly disturbing head space, but the foreign manic edge has eased a bit, THANK GOD.

The outcome of all of this is that I'm going to try to get through the weekend and hope that the herbal stuff leaves my system shortly. On Monday, I'm going to start with half a tablet of Citalopram and pray like crazy that I can stomach the stuff, since I obviously have a sensitive system to meds. I'm not going on the trip next week, which sucks beyond belief, but hopefully it's only a temporary delay. We're currently doing battle with the insurance company to see if we can reschedule, hopefully for around September. Hear that, self? That's three months to quit it with the mind tricks and stomach issues and at least improve.

Thank you for all of the comments and support last night; hopefully I'll be back in a frame of mind shortly where I can respond to them. This is officially the worst 24 hour period I've had all year. It's even worse than the night that my Grandad died, because at least then I knew why I was feeling bad and I felt that the way I was feeling was the way everyone in the room was feeling.

I'm not sure what happened last night; my parents are convinced that it was the "Neuro Calm" tablet that I took, which is a herbal remedy for anxiety. Suddenly about nine o'clock I started to get severely anxious. Like, polar opposite to the depression I struggle with. At around nine thirty, the right side of my body literally went into spasm. My right arm and leg were twitching and jerking for about four hours and are still doing it sporadically this morning. My dad wanted to take me to A and E, and my mum was holding down my arm, trying to make it stop. The worst part is that I feel like it's made me go a bit mental. Not depressed. Actually mental. I have an actual dark voice in my head right now, and I feel like someone else has kind of taken over. I really, really hope that this is a bizarre reaction to the combination of herbs that I hit my body with yesterday, because otherwise I've suddenly become bipolar or something. It's like I have a strange overlying compulsion to do things that I wouldn't normally do and a voice telling me that the feeling isn't going to go away. I'm feeling a bit desperate to clear my head right now, so I'm going to get dressed and go for a walk on the park with my mum.

All fingers and toes crossed that this was a chemical reaction and is not the new state of affairs, because I would take feeling blue over feeling like I ought to be in some sort of home any day.

Right. So I've been going back and forwards on this all week and I've come to the conclusion that, at this time, I'm just not prepared to try the antidepressants. I know that they help a lot of people, but everything in me just rebels at the prospect of putting my body through that sort of medication when I don't feel that I've exhausted all the other alternatives yet. Yes, I'm still clinically depressed and at times it's bad. However, in general, I don't think I'm as bad as I was last year. While there are still four main possibilities for me to try, I'm holding off on medication that might or might not help. (And for my mental health right now, I have to believe that it would potentially make things worse!) I'm going to use my pain medication, try the herbal remedies (with caution) and attempt to get things under control so I can go on my holiday.

When I get back, I'm going to find a better psychiatrist and try the counseling again; I'm going to go back to the gynecologist and discuss going on birth control medication to get my periods back and hopefully help with some of the hormonal imbalance issues; I'm going to seriously look into yoga and meditation because I think that could help me; and I'm going to make changes to my diet.

I've been suffering from an eating disorder for the past year - I'm just going to openly say that right now - and it's been feeding massively affecting the depression, I think, and has probably contributed to the stomach issues. This week, I've taken two steps that might seem really tiny, but are huge to me, because I've just been so stuck for a long time, not really moving forward at all. I started eating chocolate again (for the first time in years that I've eaten junk food. Literally, years. Years. That's how hung up I got on healthy eating) and today I took my first Omega-3 fish oil pill. I hated doing it; I've been a strict vegetarian for a long time and I'm still not going to eat meat, poultry or actual fish flesh. But there is evidence that fish oil capsules can aid in depression and general health, and I've reached the point where I have to get better, it's affecting my entire family, and I need to do this for myself. So I'm going to be a sort-of vegetarian who adamantly supports animal rights, won't eat meat at meals, but takes fish oil supplements for my health, even if that makes me a hypocrite.

There's a nagging voice, fed by all of these various websites, that tells me that it's impossible to recover from depression and a chemical imbalance without taking medication, but I refuse to believe that. I'm a strong person, even if I sometimes don't feel like that, and I have a support network, and I can get better. And hopefully I can do it without drugs.

ETA: I started eating the chocolate and taking the pills after the stomach issues began; I don't think I had any significant dietary changes two weeks ago that would have triggered the stomach pains. The doctor thinks that it might have been triggered by a viral infection.

ETA 2: And, having written that very affirming statement, I'm just about having a panic attack tonight worrying that I really won't get better without medication, and wondering if I should just take it and see what happens. Way to stick to my guns there.

I don't know. It's probably not a good idea to do anything tonight anyway; I'm way too jittery and by all accounts, the first dose of an antidepressant would only make that worse.

Jeez, it would be nice to just be sitting here excited about my trip like a normal person!

I'll just wait for my mum to get off the phone because I'm in serious need of a hug right now!

Still here, still spasming!

I've been to the doctor twice since my last post. I sucked it up and tried the Imipramine a few days ago. And I threw in the towel and gave up the Imipramine yesterday. I didn't experience any of the common side effects of fogginess and dry mouth, but it caused both an upset stomach and a HUGE increase in anxiety, to the point where I was so jittery and tense that I couldn't sit still and I thought my stomach muscles were going to lock. Long-term, it might well have helped with the abdominal pain from the IBS, but the side effects were bad enough that I couldn't keep taking it. I've now been prescribed Citalopram instead, which is a different type of antidepressant (and is more likely to help with depression and anxiety after 4 to 6 weeks than it is to help with the stomach pains), but I've been reading everything I can get my hands on, from clinical studies to general user reviews, and I've freaked myself out to the point where I don't think I can take it. The potential side effects, both short and long term are fairly significant. At the very least, I'd be looking at a couple of weeks of possible nausea, dizziness and flu symptoms that might actually make my stomach worse, and to be honest, I'm really not thrilled about the prospect of the weight gain that seems to be associated with them. I'm so torn right now; I'm worried that if I take nothing, the pains are going to keep flaring up and I'm going to have to cancel the holiday next week, however I suppose that taking the antidepressants isn't a guarantee that it's going to help my mood or my stomach; it might actually make me worse. Long-term, obviously I want to feel better, both physically and mentally, but I'm finding it very, very difficult to get past my reservations about antidepressants, particularly ones that are extremely difficult to get off. I'm worried about long-term side effects and that I'd regret taking them. And I don't think it's the best time to be playing drug roulette with my body when I'm down to about twelve days before I'm supposed to leave.

I've also bought some more natural attempts at remedies, so I'm wondering if I should just take a chance on them and hope that the antispasmodics and, if all else failed, Codeine would be enough to combat the pain if I get spasms while I'm away. If I get away. Ugh. I bought peppermint oil capsules, slippery elm capsules, and a stress relief aid called NeuroCalm that contains magnolia and passionflower that I'm not supposed to take at the same time as antidepressants.

Yet again, I'm calling for any advice or personal experiences with any of this. For anyone on my flist who has suffered or suffers from depression, do you believe that it's possible to significantly improve without antidepressant medication? Or have you had good results with antidepressants? And for everyone else who also has problems with IBS and gut problems, have you had any luck with things like peppermint oil?

Ugh. Sorry I haven't updated or responded yet; it's been a completely crappy week! I'm just going to say right now that this is not going to be a very upbeat or cheerful post to read, so honestly, feel free to skip if you're having a bad week yourself, because sometimes you just need to look at pretty pic spam and i can haz cheezburger cats on your f-lists!

I'm getting worried with the possible IBS stomach pains. Mostly because they're not going away. 95% of the time, I'm not in unbearable pain, but I'm aware of slight discomfort and that it doesn't feel right, and then just when I think it might be clearing up again, like at midnight last night, I get hit with the horrible abdominal pain. The antispasmodic drug that the doctor prescribed for me got its first trial last night and it definitely took the edge off; I was able to go back to sleep, but it was like a veil had suddenly been dropped on the problem. It still felt wrong, if that makes any sense; it just wasn't unbearable any longer. What's bothering me is that I've had this pain before, but it usually lasted an hour at most and then went away completely for several months. Now it's seeming inclined to linger. At this rate, I'm seriously starting to think I'll have to cancel or at least postpone my trip. I have less than three weeks before I'm supposed to go and I've barely been well enough to go to work, let alone on a bus tour in a foreign country by myself. Obviously my anxiety over whether I'll get to go - and what could happen if I do go - is not helping with the stomach issues, but I'm not sure how to relax on that subject right now. My blood test results showed some indication a viral infection which I'm actually hoping is just exacerbating the problem right now and it's going to clear up soon, but so far, no.

I went back to the doctor this morning, because I'm still in some doubt that what I have is Irritable Bowel Syndrome (not to be TMI, but with all the research I've read, it seems that most people experience severe bathroom issues to one extreme or the other, and that isn't really a problem for me; I'm mostly just getting the pain and it doesn't seem to be especially linked to meal times or need to go to the bathroom or anything, really). But she's sticking to her diagnosis at this point, and has now prescribed me a mild antidepressant, Imipramine, which is supposed to help with the pain. However, I'm completely torn tonight about whether I should start taking it or not. I don't want to be in pain and I want to go on my trip; but the antidepressant has some fairly significant side effects (that may or may not happen, however one of the less "serious" side effects that's almost guaranteed is constipation and I've also been prescribed two huge bottles of Metamucil, which I don't really want to have to worry about on a bus trip!). Besides constipation, dry mouth, sleeplessless, dizziness, weight gain, possible hallucinations and all those lovelies, there is also a small risk of increased depression and susceptibility to suicidal thoughts in the first three weeks and people are supposed to be monitored closely for the first 12 weeks. I'm supposed to leave in less than three weeks and will be away from both my doctor and people who know me. It doesn't seem like the ideal time to be trialling that sort of medication for the first time; I know side effects are only "possible", but I do tend to be susceptible to medication. Has anyone ever tried Imipramine/Tofranil or a similar drug?

On the other hand, if I decide not to start these meds until I get back and just hope that the pains start to subside in the next week or two, and they don't, then I'm pretty much looking at a cancelled holiday, and I really, really want to go.

...My mum just told me that my Dad has booked a double appointment for me to see his doctor on Monday to get a second opinion. That's also part of the problem; when I switched to my current medical center, it was because I really wanted one of the two women doctors who job-shared there. Unfortunately, the doctor that I've had for the past couple of years, whom I loved, has now left to teach at the university and I've had to move to the other women, who I don't like. She's very pleasant, but I don't get the feeling that she really listens all that well.

I suppose I'd better not take the medication tonight and hold off until at least Monday, but there's obviously a limited amount of time before it will really be too difficult to start the meds before I go.

Sorry about this very long and convoluted ramble. I just have no idea what to do and would appreciate any advice, comments or even distractions!

So, I sort of collapsed in horrible pain yesterday and ended up at the medical center. I've been having the odd pain or two in my stomach over the past couple of months, in the region of my belly button, but they haven't lasted very long. Yesterday, it exploded into pretty much agonising pain that lasted around three hours and is still lingering today, had me in tears, and almost reached the limits of my (admittedly pathetic) pain threshold. I've been diagnosed at this stage with a possible bowel spasm and possible Irritable Bowel Syndrome. I have anti-spasming pills to try if it flares up again like yesterday and instructions to report back if they don't work. I also had the longest blood test ever (apparently my sluggish blood flow combined with the need to take a whole tray full of vials since they're testing for everything under the sun from B12 deficiency to Coeliacs) and will hopefully get the results next week. At this point, I really hope that something shows up because it would be nice to know. I always think pain is much, much worse when you don't know what the problem is. The pain after my breast reduction was actually minimal in comparison to yesterday, but it would have been more bearable anyway, because I knew exactly why it was happening. Have large amount of boob removed, have some pain. However, when it feels like someone is repeatedly stabbing you in the stomach, twisting the knife and then jumping on it for good measure, and you have no idea what's going on, it's a bit more bothersome! The fact that I'm now down to a countdown of under a month until I'm supposed to go away and I'd rather not be in a foreign country on a bus tour and be unable to move from pain is also contributing to a bit of anxiety today! As is the fact that I'm home alone for the next few days - so I may be lurking around LJ a lot and seeking comfort and rational "shut up and suck it up" comments from all of you. :)

Does anyone have IBS? Is chronic pain around the belly button line a common symptom?

Snooooooooze.

I need to get back to my early nights. Especially when staying up late (and not even for any more pressing reason than I've got caught up watching the millionth episode of CSI:Wherever or just can't be arsed getting off the couch) is combined with being woken up at six something-o'clock by the Animal Choir. I'm not sure what Max was doing in the shower - some mysterious feline business that involved a lot of splashing and an apparent attempt to dig through the plastic base - but it alerted Remus to his presence, and Bossy, who has developed a habit of barking at anybody who does anything (i.e. breathing within his line of vision) to annoy him, ran out to investigate. Thus began the "Woah-woah-woah-woah", then, lest we all be hard of hearing and miss his warning of "Cat! Shower! Why isn't he playing with ME!" - "WOAH-WOAH-WOAH-WOAH!!" I'm admittedly at least pleased for the small blessing that he's a "Woah"-er and not a yapper.

I buried my head in the pillow for another half hour, then gave up, made porridge and eggs, and watched The View. I had reached zombie status by ten, but decided to haul myself to the pool for a swim. I've since showered, including washing my hair twice, and my skin still reeks of chlorine. And despite the fact that I look like a potato when I wear hats, I've been stuffing my hair into a swim cap - for no apparent reason, it seems, since it's still soaking wet when I take it off. Is there a method to putting on a swim cap that I'm missing?

I finally managed to pin down my boss today (not literally. I don't think that would have helped the situation) and mention that I'm leaving the country at the end of next month. Understandably, she's not exactly thrilled, but she's been very good about it. There's a possibility that they'll find another student to replace me, but also that I might be able to keep at least my Saturday shift when I come back. Which would be great, since it's a very good job that I was lucky to get, I'm feeling oddly resentful at the prospect of someone else taking it over completely despite the fact that I was considering resigning anyway and I'm clearly a very contrary person, and there's a strong possibility that I'll be resuming Masters studies instead of PhD studies and will be on a tight budget and in need of the extra money. I sent her a somewhat worried email when I got home, since I was concerned that I hadn't made it clear that while I'm perfectly prepared to go with whatever is easiest for them, including resigning if that's the case, that I'd rather not, if possible. She sent a nice email back, and I'm leaving it with her. Hopefully it will work out okay and I'll be able to keep on a few hours, anyway, which would let me keep a foot in the door as far as museum experience goes, which is as rare as hen's teeth these days.

My Dad's out at the moment, installing my Nana's new DVD player. This is a somewhat momentous occasion, as she's never had one before, and since she doesn't have any DVDs either, no worries on what to buy her for her 80th birthday next month!

I think I'd better wrap this up before I succumb to the overwhelming scent of chlorine. I feel like wrinkling up my nose and edging away from myself...

I've been feeling a bit rundown the last couple of days, bone tired and a bit nauseous; I think it might be lingering side effects of the flu shot this week. What's more unusual is that I seem to have developed an allergic reaction to something. I was chopping up a butternut pumpkin for lunch the other day and my hand suddenly swelled up, turned bright orange and the skin went all tight and started peeling off. Needless to say, that's never happened on any of the numerous previous occasions that I've chopped up vegetables. And yesterday I woke up and my face had gone all puffy. My lips are still swollen and cracked. It's a bit bizarre.

It was my Dad's birthday on Saturday. I'm going to buy him a present while I'm overseas, but I bought him a jar and filled it with his favourite fizzy lollies and I made a chocolate birthday cake and two different types of biscuits: chocolate chip and butterscotch with white chocolate.





Yesterday I went to a play of Jane Austen's Emma with my mum and my Nana. I was curious as to how it would work as a play, but it was very good. They played up the comedy aspect and it was much funnier than any of the film adaptations have been. There were only five actors and between them - and various props - they managed to fill all of the roles. At one point, Mr. Woodhouse was effectively played by a mop. :)


( Read more... )

We had an extended family dinner at an Italian restaurant afterward for Dad's birthday, which was less good. By that time, I was feeling pretty awful and we had to wait an hour and a half for the food. When the waiter finally came to tell us that our mains were being plated up and would be no more than another five minutes, my mum politely asked if they were short-staffed, to which he blinked in surprise and replied shortly "No". Apparently it's just normal to take an hour and a half to make a couple of pizzas, a couple of bowls of pasta, multiple salads and to pour three bowls of soup. It's a good thing nobody tips in New Zealand!

Speaking of tipping, I'm a bit worried about that for when I head to London next year. For those on my flist who live in the UK, what is the acceptable procedure when it comes to tipping? Do you tip everywhere you go? Just fancy restaurants? Only if you get good service? I'm staying in quite a flash looking hotel for part of the trip, so does that mean you need to tip a lot? And how much is it normal to tip, anyway? Do you need to tip every taxi driver?

...Is it really obvious that I'm a born worrier and tend to overthink every small detail?

Back from Cromwell, and feeling like I've been away for months. *smooshes flist* The second half of the time away was good; during the first half, I got hit by the depression badly, worse than I've been for ages. I definitely need to look into counselling again, I think. My Nana was reasonably cheerful while we were up there, but I think it's just starting to hit her properly today, now that she's back at home by herself. I don't think it can have really sunk in for me yet; this afternoon, at the time we usually went to visit Grandad at the rest home, I kept thinking it was time to go there. I've been struggling a bit since he died - it's not even just grief over his death, but it brings back all of my fears about losing other members of my family, especially the fear of my mother's cancer coming back, which is the evil thought above all others that comes with the depression that can pull me down. My mum has told me that there's no point in worrying about things like that before they happen, when they may never happen, but tell that to the voices in my head! Says the crazy woman.

And way to start my first entry in a fortnight on a good note!

The last week or so has been a mixture of definite late summer days and definite beginning of winter days. It's already starting to get darker by about 5 o'clock. I read a lot while we were away, which was great. I can't believe how little reading I've done in the past year; I used to be the child who went to the book bus every Friday and checked out a pile of books taller than I was. Also watched multiple period dramas with my Nana. We both agreed that the '95 Pride and Prejudice is our favourite. And for once I'm using an appropriate icon! I ate good food and did almost no exercise. Unless you count the two full days of shopping. :) My one athletic endeavour was when my brother and my sister-in-law (they're not actually married or even engaged yet, but they've been together so long now that I think of her as my SIL) DRAGGED me kicking and screaming on a mountain bike ride. I don't even like the stationary bike. In fact, I adamantly dispute the whole cliche about never forgetting how to ride a bike. Anyone watching me wobble and curse my way along bumpy farm trails would have thought that I was having my first lesson. It didn't help when a family glided smoothly past, with a line of children following their mother and even the smallest little girl was handling her two-wheeler like a pro.

Speaking of shopping, a bonus of having an upcoming holiday means that my mother wants me to have adequate clothing to cover every eventuality and offered to buy me some new things. I feel a bit guilty, actually, since I have no doubt that her enthusiasm to take me shopping was another desperate attempt to cheer me up. I should probably have politely declined to take advantage of her generosity. I did not, and have many new things (the purple dress looks kind of like a large sock in this picture, I just realised; it's folded. And yes, I wear Crocs. That's my second pair of Ballerina Crocs. They're comfy!):
( Lots of new clothes... )
I also have a variety of random photos from Cromwell. Central Otago, New Zealand scenery:
( Cromwell Photos... )
To end this post on a slightly more positive note than it began, I have a recipe! A good one! And a really late one! This was my first try at making Hot Cross Buns for Easter from scratch and they came out really well. I'm sure Hot Cross Buns taste good at any time of year, anyway.
( Easter Hot Cross Buns Recipe )

I had my first flu shot this afternoon. Hoping I don't wake up with any symptoms tomorrow. Especially since I just had my planned week off work, plus an unplanned week off before that because of the funeral, and on Friday I have to go in and tell them that I'm going overseas for a month. I'm probably going to say that I'd like to stay on, but will resign if it's easier, which means I have to type a resignation letter tomorrow.

I just have to say once more - and then I promise I'll stop with the emotional gushing - THANK YOU ALL SO, SO MUCH for your support over the last few weeks. I have no words for how much it helped and how much it meant. I'm so sorry that I've got behind on what all of you have been up to recently, but I am interested and I do care and I will do my best to get caught up!

We're leaving for Cromwell in about fifteen minutes and will be staying there over Easter; we're due to come back Tuesday 14 April, and as soon as we do, I'm going to reply individually to the comments that I received on my last post, some of which literally helped carry me through the funeral on Thursday. It was a long, difficult day, but the funeral went really, really well, if that doesn't sound awful. Everyone pulled together and supported each other, hundreds of people came, and it was such a fitting tribute for Grandad. I gave my speech - I was almost 90% sure that I would have to call on Dad to do it for me, but I did it and I got through the whole thing, only starting to break up in the last paragraph. It was so bizarre - I'm not a good public speaker, it terrifies me, and this was a packed room and a highly emotionally charged atmosphere, but I think it was the best I've ever spoken in public. I didn't overthink it beforehand; I couldn't re-read the speech before I gave it and I couldn't focus on anyone while I was doing it, but I could feel the other grandchildren standing behind me and supporting me, and when I looked at my parents and my Nana after it was over, I could actually see on their faces how proud they were. And I'm so, so glad that I did it, now. I don't know if I could ever do it again, but I did when it mattered, and I'm proud of myself. To say that my Grandad had a bond with my brother and my cousins and I is an understatement, and I wanted to get that across. A stranger came up to me at the reception and said that after I spoke everybody in the room understood what a wonderful grandfather he had been, which is all I wanted. The minister said to me, "Can I have your grandfather, please?" The final moments of the funeral, when they played Bette Midler's Wind Beneath My Wings were incredibly difficult and the burial was hard - I've never actually attended a full burial at the cemetery before, most people seem to choose cremation these days.

Oops - my dad has reached the point of extremely loud grumbling and muttered cursing about how much stuff we always travel with, so I think we must be almost ready to go. We're picking up my Nana on the way, and my brother and his girlfriend are coming up later in the week. I hope everyone has a wonderful Easter - we do have limited internet access up there, so I'll try to get back on in the next couple of days anyway.

*massive, massive hugs*

Again, this is going to be a quick post and it'll be a couple of days before I can get caught up on posts and news, I'm sorry, but I wanted to thank everybody so much for the almost overwhelming support. It's been a difficult and pretty stressful week. Sunday night seems almost surreal to me now. Apart from the fact that I obviously knew - for the past couple of years, in fact - that my Grandad was getting very frail and that he wouldn't be with us forever, part of me didn't ever really expect to lose him. I spent the whole afternoon at the rest home on Sunday afternoon, which was tiring at the time but I'm obviously very glad that I did now. That evening, we had our usual family dinner at my uncle's house and then my mum and I went home. Unfortunately, my dad had gone back up to Cromwell in the afternoon to meet the workmen there on Monday. We didn't expect anything to happen so soon, or he would never have gone. It was after nine and I was tired and already in my pajamas when my Nana rang and told my mum that the staff had just called her, Grandad had taken a very bad turn and that he wasn't expected to live longer than a few minutes. I don't think I've ever dressed so quickly and then we ran over the rubbish bin on our way out of the carport. My mum was crying, it was dark, Grandad was dying as we drove, and the whole thing was basically a nightmare. When we got there, the nurses were in the room with him and the rest of the family were outside in the hallway. He'd died a few minutes earlier. The worst thing is that in the end it wasn't a peaceful death. I thought that he would just become unconscious eventually and pass away. But he had a blocked bowel and his stomach ruptured and it was a fairly violent death, and I can't really talk about that. I don't even want a record of that on my LJ, since this is functioning like a diary now. We stayed there in the room with him for about an hour. My Nana came home with my mum and I. I got no sleep and in the morning after all the crying I could hardly open my eyes. I've slept much better the last couple of nights, but I still feel tired from the whole experience.

The funeral is tomorrow afternoon. We went to the funeral home today to see him. Everyone thought it was important that we had a better last memory of him than what happened on Sunday. My Nana brought the toys that Sarah and I have given him over the past couple of years, that he liked to have at the home with him, and we put them in the coffin with him. We also watched the DVD presentation of photos that is going to play during the time for recollections. We've chosen photos that range from his childhood to just this past year, and they're playing to Bridge Over Troubled Water. It's awful. I'm seriously going to have to take a whole pack of tissues with me.

I decided that I wanted to write something to be read out at the ceremony and that has somehow led to me giving a speech at the funeral on behalf of the grandchildren. I'm BEYOND WORRIED. (A) I can't even read it myself at home without crying, and (B) I hate public speaking at the best of times. And it's going to be a very large funeral, I think. My Grandad was a fairly influential businessman and a former mayor, so we're expecting a lot of people. If I break down, my Dad is on standby to take over from me, but the whole prospect is completely appalling, frankly. I want to be able to do it, because it's for Grandad, but at the moment I highly doubt that I'll be able to. I know it's not letting him down if I can't, but it feels a bit like that.

I think everyone's exhausted too, which doesn't help. My work has been really good about giving me until Friday off, although it's a bit unfortunate because I was already taking leave next week, so I could combine it with the Easter weekend and go up to Cromwell, and then when I get back, I'm going to have to mention the fact that I won't be here for any of June! We're taking my Nana up to Cromwell on Sunday and staying for ten days, so hopefully a change of scene will be good for everyone.

I should probably get ready for bed shortly, since it's going to be a long day tomorrow, but thank you all again. So much.

My Grandad died last night, at about half past nine. I've had pretty much no sleep and the rest of my family is arriving shortly to start making arrangements, so I'll do a proper post later, but thank you again for the support. We're shattered, basically.