Changing my bedsheets is probably my least favourite housework-task, but it’s also one of the most rewarding. It’s just THE BEST FEELING. I’m not feeling great this week - mentally or physically - so my lovely bed is proving the most fantastic of working stations.
We walked for miles in the cold and wind and then stopped for coffee and beers and croque monsieur and it was cheesy and warm and the bread was thick and soft and on the side I had salty chips dipped in ketchup and mayonnaise and it was good.
This has been on pre-order for an age and I was utterly THRILLED to have it drop through my letterbox yesterday. I haven’t read it yet but I’m pretty certain Everything I Know About Love by @dollyalderton is going to be my book of the month.
Let’s talk about medication. What a privilege it is to have access to the drugs we need to make us better - physically and mentally. I feel very lucky that I get to take a pill every day that improves my quality of life and dulls the anxiety that would otherwise roar free. Yet still we’re uncomfortable with taking about them, or at least excepting their necessity. What if we looked at them like diabetes medication. Instead of begrudging ourselves - and in some cases passing judgement on others - for taking something that allows us to function, why not give ourselves a break? So often I hear of people struggling to come off their medication too early because they feel guilty - less worthy - for taking it. I do what I need to do to LIVE my life, not just stumble through it. I take citalopram and occasionally (today, for instance, when I’m going on a plane or have a really long train journey) I take diazepam. I also take sleeping pills sometimes, because I get 3am panic attacks. If I have to take them forever, that’s okay. It’s better than debilitating mental illness.