Monday, April 20, 2009
By the end of the morning, at creative therapy, I was in the bottom of the deepest hole and in tears and I could not see my way out and everything seemed senseless and useless and futile. I could not create any work and had cleaned up all my things and sat at the empty table with a cup of coffee waiting for it to be time to go home.
But then the tears came and they were soon noticed by the therapist who came and sat with me and I told her how my moods fluctuated from very happy to very sad and how I could not predict them and how very frustrating that was and how much of a panic they caused me and how being in the pit of despair made me feel suicidal and that I could find no reason to keep on trying.
I used quite a bit of paper towels to wipe away my tears and blow my nose in. It was not a pretty sight and off putting to the other people there. The creative therapist made me promise that I would call my SPN as soon as I got home, and even though this also seemed futile to me, I promised I would.
So when I got home, I started another bawling session and felt very sorry for myself and had to get that out of the way first. When I had sufficiently composed myself, I called my SPN and told her the sorrowful tale of my changing moods from one extreme to the next and how I did not have my household under control anymore and how it was all starting to be too much for me to handle.
She reminded me that these fluctuations in my moods go with the time of year and there is not much that can be done about them, but to take care of me as well as we can in the meantime. She suggested I get someone to come over whom I trusted and I could only think of one person and that was the Exfactor, and she said that was fine. Anyone who was safe and trustworthy and had my best intentions in mind would do.
So, I called the Exfactor in tears and explained the situation to him and asked him to come hold my hand and to please bring a couple of beers, because I really needed to mellow out and forget everything that I felt was waiting for me. The bills, the household, the dishes, the dog and the cats, everything. He came over an hour later with a six pack of Hoegaarden, which is a Belgian white beer, brewed since 1445 and very good tasting.
After the first bottle, I felt a lot better and I think a cold beer is preferable to a tranquilizer. You get the company of a fellow human being and the good taste of the beer, plus the mellowing effect of the low level alcohol, 4.9%, that's all. We took pictures of each other drinking beer, that's how mellow I became, because it was my camera that did it.
That's a genuine Hoegaarden glass I'm drinking my beer from. It's supposed to be that clunky.
The Exfactor has left now, after drinking some coffee and I am drinking my second bottle of beer, which is putting me in a very good mood and makes me suspect that I like the effects of beer very much and I am grateful for it. I am going to stop after this bottle and not abuse the pleasantness of the side effects. A little bit goes a long way, but if the need is there again, I will reach for another bottle, not fearing that I will become an alcoholic, because I would have been one by now.
I am not allowed, in creative therapy, to make any sculptures for anyone else in the way of a commission. It is thought that it will put too much pressure on me and that the therapeutic value of the activity will be lost and that I will become stressed out as I make more and more sculptures for people who want them. I disagree with this, but I don't have the final say in this. I am forbidden at this time to work with clay and I'm supposed to do something else.
Well, we'll see how long that lasts. It could be that I change my mind about working with clay and that I decide that I miss it and that I want to do more sculptures, but not the same ones I had been doing. Maybe some similar to them, because some of Henry Moore's work looks very much alike. It may be that I can convince the therapist that I enjoy it very much and that it is a good activity for me, that I am a natural. It's all a question of willpower. Maybe I should drink a bottle of beer before I go to therapy and get Dutch courage.
Needless to say, I am not suicidal now, nor am I down in a pit of despair. As a matter of fact, I am in the " I don't give a darn stage." I like it just fine and should be in this stage more often. Every afternoon I think, so I need to go to the store and figure out the price of white beers and the quality of them.
I had bought a child proof electronic lighter the other day and went to use it this morning, but couldn't figure out how to use it and could not get a flame, try as I might. I gave it to the Exfactor this afternoon and he had it figured out in about 7 seconds. Duh! He said that it was okay, because I was smart about other things. I'd like to know what they are.
I went on the scales this morning and I need to loose 9 kilos, but if I keep eating the way I am, I won't loose them, so my gastric band needs to get tightened. I have to call and make an appointment for that. Woe is me.
Well, that will do for now. I've gone from one extreme to the other and the day isn't over yet, so lord only knows what awaits me.
Have a good day, you all. Wish we could all get together.