Saturday, 30 September 2017

MY MENTAL HEALTH

ME, MYSELF AND I...

Olga, Wild Westerner, Hippy, Biker Chick, Mrs.Fonz ('Aaaay...') and Goth.
I'm coming out and out and out. And I'm starting to enjoy it, even though the weather is cold, grey, wet and yukky out there. (It is February in good ol' UK. Brrr. Picture's appropriate, taken in Looe in Cornwall over Xmas!).

     Two years plus since the mixed blessing medication crisis that ultimately freed me from that cruel and nasty grip of depression and anxiety, I'm becoming more and more 'me'' - whatever that is! It's a good me, happily. :-D! I've always been a tad eccentric-ish (was once described as 'pleasantly eccentric' by Husband's boss's wife), creative, and, since my schooldays, fascinated by hard shootin', drinkin' and smokin' cigars wild western women. I became a writer of lighthearted anecdotes after my kids arrived, many of which were published, then I began my humungous western novel with my hard shootin' heroine, upon which I'm working as I think. But there's oodles of stuff I wanna do before I get run over by that number 9 bus. (Why number 9? It's always number 9. And is this a British thing?).
      I'm a Renaissance Soul and always have been. Quite proud of that. As a hormonal young person I wanted to get onto an archaeological (I can spell it - yay!) dig. The germ of an idea was planted when one took place in Shepperton, Middlesex, near my school, the small town next to my home village of Sunbury-on-Thames. My appearance at the dig never happened. Since then I've been on the lookout for them. Then depression clamped down and that was that - *Bleaughhhh...*. I really fancy the delicate uncovering of a human skull or piece of pottery, the washing of finds, the documentation, the research etcetera. I've replaced it, I guess, with beachcombing and finding odds and sods anywhere and everywhere, including our back garden, local meadows and our large King's pond. I'd considered mudlarking - I'm definitely one of those - up to my ankles in Thames mud in London when the tide's out. Many things have been unmudded, including a Victorian prisoner's ball and chain (sans prisoner, hahaha. You do wonder what happened to him), but you need insurance and I couldn't be arsed with all that!
     When not digging for broken bits of blue patterned china (always blue. Ugh?) I'm counting the number of countries I/we've visited - twenty - and can officially class myself as a traveller, apparently, according to a travel mag I read once. And who am I to disbelieve them? *Yay! (again!)* and I want to snorkel in Australia's Great Barrier Reef. Go buy a snorkel and practice in the bathtub first.
     Another thing I wanted to do as an 'orrible teen was archery. My uncle was an archer. A school friend and I watched him arching with his club and that decided me. And yes - I did it, surprise surprise! My kids were quite young when I joined a local club here in Hampshire. I acquired a bow and pretty pearlised pink arrows. I wasn't a bad shot, either. But bloody depression got in the way again. Now I want to return. Mustmustmust. This year. Nag me, people.
     I've always rowed as well. Was brought up beside the Thames and rowed the family dinghy from the moment I could utter 'Land Ahoy!' Now we own a traditional Canadian canoe, which goes with the wild west hobby. It lay gathering cobwebs for some time, sulking in the garden, but last year we actually used it more than once, on raging rivers around Weybridge, Surrey, where Husband was living as a student when I met him umpteen years ago. We've considered camping by canoe a la Three Men in a Boat. Or put the canoe on the roof of our narrow boat and use it when we moor. Might just happen. Never know.
     I have a bucket list item that I have a suspicion will never happen. To be an extra on a telly or film set. They get paid to sit around a lot, knitting. And do idiotic things that look rather fun on the box, such as running en-masse into exotic looking seas and have fun (can't remember which ad that was. Insurance? Telecommunications?). Or be the person reading a book in the background on a bus or in the cafe in Neighbours (yes, I watch Neighbours. Want to make something of it...?). Being realistic, though, extras - or background artistes (official posh title) - have to be up at the crack of first blush (found that on Thesaurus. Rather like it). First Blush/crack of cockcrow and I never got on. Having said that, since my full recovery made its tentative way through my cranium and into my eyeballs, I actually do manage an earlier get-up time when necessary. Husband's gob has been smacked, and is growing all the more smacked as life goes on.
     Bearing all this in mind, you never know what might happen next. In fact, our next plan is to buy a three wheeler motor bike. Yes! All because our son acquired a Harley a while ago. Fab!But away from bikes. Let me make a couple of things clear - I'm gonna finish that darn novel before that bus flattens me, and I'm gonna be rich and famous. Allow me amend those last two little factoids. Rich and famous? :-D! I do wanna get this blog out there cuz there are many folk with mental health issues that need encouragement, inspiration and a good laugh (can't always guarantee the last), and I wanna get my creativity out from under that darn bushel cuz I know I can do it.
     yay! :-D
Third time

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