Dear Amy, A snake came to my water-trough On a hot, hot day, and I in pyjamas for the heat, To drink there.
Regarding mental health, the last year has not been easy. Hell, for me, the last two decades have not been easy. My brain has been a broken place, a world of contrast, elation and mess. And yet, its richness lies in its brokenness. As a bipolar one patient/sufferer/victim/convalescent/survivor, it’s been a harrowing and very polarising burden. True to the vignette of life, these seasons have ebbed and flowed (and by seasons, I mean epic fluctuations in mood and sanity). This year, however, I was designated a lifeline in the form of ECT.
Towards the latter part of last year, I was able to put into words, for the first time, that I suffered from emptiness. After struggling with depression and ongoing mood episodes for years, it was always a fight to find balance. But I never found balance, and try as I may – even with the right meds and healthcare and everything in between – the sadness purveyed. I realised then that perhaps it wasn’t sadness at all, it wasn’t even loneliness. I was just aridly empty, and exhausted from trying to fill the desolation.
I love a good dress up. On the cusp of 2017 my boyfriend Barry treated me to the ultimate New Year’s Eve dinner party. The Shortmarket Club, Cape Town’s most stylish and Gatsby-esque fine dining destination (read my review of it here), opened its doors to a select crowd for a themed night of eating, drinking, dancing and celebrating. It was magical!
I have been back at work the last two days after the most wonderful, soul-enriching holiday. I couldn’t afford to travel overseas – or locally for that matter – so it was a stay-at-home vacation that turned out to be one of my best – ever.
Our lives are a throng of activity. Roads are busier, days are overloaded from 9 till 5, inboxes are flooded. For too long I’ve tried to do everything. But it’s not working for me anymore. I’m performing at a sub-optimal level. If I look at my diary on a Monday morning and the schedule is too busy and there’s too much on, I feel anxious, and anxiety doesn’t work for me either. In honour of this new revelation, I am pursuing the art of minimalism.