Bit of a pish beginning

Well. That was a pish start to a job.

The first return to work was abandoned after 2 weeks.

I just went steadily downhill after that. A whole other 7 weeks. A whole other story – one that shows little sign of ending.

I am back again now.

Feeling like I was the prize catch that turned into an albatross. Or maybe not. Maybe I am just too sensitive. Reading too much into little nothings from people who are frantic with an excess of work – people I hardly know – people who don’t know me.

Anyway. It hasn’t been the best beginning. And I am still not entirely myself – though I hesitate to say that I am still recovering. I suspect this lower energy, old-feeling me is my new normal. And I just need to get used to her.

I also suspect that the physical illness has gifted me a mental depression. Like it wasn’t enough to scorch and excoriate my lungs and inflame every organ. It has left burnt earth inside my head. A dead zone.

And maybe that’s all just a natural response – as it should be.

I reason. Tentatively. I am just tired. My confidence has been crushed. And to top it all – I am the new girl – one who hasn’t time to be ‘new’ or to acclimatise – one who has to take decisions; organise; strategize; just know what the answer to the problem/s is/are.

I don’t much feel up to it. I don’t much feel like I’ve the energy ‘it’ requires. Nor the inclination to do anything other than sleep.

Yes, sleep.


I dream of sleep.

I dream of simply folding into myself and my bed. Into that velvety darkness of deep dreamless sleep.

Ah feck.

But there’s the rub.

Plenty of time for that when I am dead, says my sensible practical work-ethic wired head.

I will get there. I suppose. All things pass.





6 thoughts on “Bit of a pish beginning

  1. I have little doubt that, knowing your tenacity and ability, you will win through with the job and the mental challenges. I hope that your body keeps up the good work for you.

  2. Well you don’t look old no matter how you feel.
    Just sleep for 48 hours each weekend that will help.
    It helps me…

  3. Eeurgh as if being sick isn’t enough without the recuperation depression. At least it’s a sign things are going well. And don’t underestimate what the end of this shitty weather will bring energy wise

    • Yip. I feel like shit. Anxious and ridiculously paranoid and full of shitty self-doubt. I actually sat and worked out whether ‘we’ could retire some time very soon – sell up; downsize; get ‘small’ jobs. And came to the conclusion that it’d be a) possible and b) currently desirable. Then I thought: fuck! – when did you get this old? FFS. You’re only f’ing 50. You’re right though – the dark and cold and snow – it’s depressing too.

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