Ruben – “Walls”.

Hiya people! 🙂

The song I want to share with you today is a debut single from a Norwegian singer Ruben. He debuted with it in 2018 and since then has become quite successful, and I must say I like a lot of his music. I’m sure this song can be very relatable for a lot of people. It sure is for me, even though I’m not a boy, as I also suppress things a lot. I usually prefer to let the steam out when I’m alone rather than have someone else see my walls falling, but it’s definitely good to have someone who can help and understand you in such a situation and will be there for you when you need it. I’m sharing the stripped version as I like it way more.

Question of the day (19th October).

What was the first book that made you cry, or at least feel very, very sad?

My answer:

I’ve been thinking about this for a while but can’t think of a book that was the first. While books often affect me strongly and I may easily feel sad if a book is sad, I don’t cry very easily at all because of a book even if I fee like I’d like to be able to sometimes, it’s just a super rare thing, same with movies and music. While on one hand I’m glad I’m not an easy cryer and at least in some part it is the effect of my own considerable efforts over the years of bottling things up, on the other hand I actually envy people who can cry when they’re moved by things as it seems a very healthy mechanism and seems to be generally seen as a very sincere reaction by people. So basically because it’s very frequently that a book moves me very deeply and I find it very sad, but at the same time ultra rare that it would make me cry, I can’t think of one particular example that would be either the first or even just one that would stand out particularly. I remember that the last book that I was crying a little bit when reading it was Maggie Hartley’s book Battered, Broken, Healed that I read last year, when for some unexplained reason one specific thing made me feel particularly sad, namely when the mum of a baby whom Maggie was taking care of at the time was telling Maggie about how whenever her daughter cried at night, her abusive husband wouldn’t let her see to her and how difficult it was for her and for little Jasmine as well. I don’t know why it made such a very strong impression, it’s definitely not my typical reaction even when I hear sad things like this and it’s not the most difficult thing I’ve heard definitely, but it just made me feel so sad I suddenly started crying but only a little bit. I guess I must have generally been feeling down.

Oh, yeah, now I remember a book that made me feel particularly sad, but it definitely wasn’t the first one, actually quite recent, and it also made me feel a whole spectrum of all sorts of feelings and, despite a rather difficult topic of the book, quite a few fragments of it also made me laugh a lot and overall the experience was very positive. It was Room by Emma Donoghue.

So, how about you? Also, are you easily moved by books at all? If so, is it to such a degree that you just easily absorb emotions that are in the book, or does it also mean that you cry easily when you read something particularly moving, be it positively or negatively? 🙂

Question of the day.

Hi guys. 🙂

Here’s another question I have for you.

Who was the first non-relative you said “I live you” to?

My answer:

Emmmm. Misha? 😀 … I don’t know! I’m not one for saying that too often and to just anyone, the more that it’s such an overrated phrase nowadays as if just plain saying “I love you” really meant something in the grand scheme of things. And I’m generally not too good at expressing my emotions, it’s quite a problem for me still. Also, I’ve never been in a romantic relationship, so I’ve never had a chance to use it in that context. That doesn’t mean of course that I haven’t loved anyone who wouldn’t be my relative, but, as far as I can remember anyway, I simply never told them that, for different reasons, usually just because it makes you vulnerable. I’ve had friends who would tell me in this or that way that they love me, like you love a friend, and then I’d say the same if I did love them like that too, but I don’t think I’ve ever said “I love you” as such to anyone other than my family and Mishmish, who is also my family, so doesn’t count here separately of course.

How about you? 🙂

Working On Us.

It’s week #4 of Working On Us at

Beckie’s Mental Mess

and I’m very happy to participate in this prompts series for the second time. Last week, I was answering the questions for prompt #1, but this time, I found prompt #2 really relatable. It’s a photo prompt, so I couldn’t actually see it, but Beckie described it and the image of a brain inside of a bird cage really spoke to me. I suppose I should include the photo in my post somehow, but since I have no clue how to do it, and am blind, so don’t need to have a clue about pics haha, I’ll just leave it as it is.

I was thinking about that prompt a lot last evening and thought I would make some piece of creative writing but since I don’t feel very creative at the moment it’ll just be a bit of a ramble.

I’ve been fascinated by brain for years, and it’s one of my main interests. But it’s not only that why I found this prompt so relatable. I could say I often feel as if my brain was locked in a bird cage, and unable to get out, just never thought about such a metaphor before. What does it feel like when your brain is locked in a brain cage? For me, among other things, it means difficulty in releasing emotions, there’s no way to get them out, whether you want it or not. Your brain fills up until it’s all full and all the feelings are one big mishmash, so that sometimes you don’t even know what you feel any longer. Things get mixed up, until finally the brain can’t contain anymore, and things start to leak out. But instead of leaking outside in a proper way, instead of being expressed, they spill all over the cage. It’s flooded with stuff that can’t be released otherwise, and the brain is swimming in all the intense feelings. That’s when overload happens, and I start feeling a lot of intense anger that gets turned inwards, so I feel like self-harming. Sometimes, when the flood is really strong, something will spill outside through the grating, but the cage is tall and thick so it’s really hard. The only way for me to get my brain out of that cage is writing. Then, the bird cage opens and it can fly out and feel more free.

Another thing that a bird cage makes me think of in the context of my brain, is the feeling of alienation, or feeling disconnected, or loneliness in the crowd, inadequacy, or however you want to call it. I like being different, and individualistic, and I like being on my own more than around other people most of the time and feel more comfy with it. But when it becomes a bird cage for my brain is when I do need to be with someone, but for whatever reason can’t make a connection with people. Sometimes it’s like you can see other people from there, but there’s no way of communicating effectively. You can only bang on the cage and hope that they will hear you, but even if they will, they usually won’t be able to help you out, or open the cage, or get close enough that you could communicate, or feel the way you feel. Even if they do get to you, you’ve been living in this cage for so long that you can’t even explain to them what it’s like, and what you need, and they won’t understand, because they live out there in the world which is so very different. So after a couple trials, you just sit in the corner of your cage and look out, watching people come and go. Sometimes they’ll glance in your direction in confusion, not understanding why you are the way you are and live in a bird cage, what’s wrong with your brain that you constantly keep it in there. As if it was your choice. Sometimes you might feel desperate, and try to jump over the cage, but that hardly ever ends up well and is risky, you can easily get hurt. Even if you do get out of there in one piece, you quickly realise that you don’t fit in, and lots of consequences come with it. And after so many years of living in a cage your brain just doesn’t know otherwise and has it hard to adjust and be just like any other brain living in the outside world. So after all, you put your brain back into the cage, voluntarily this time, ’cause a familiar enemy is worse than the one you don’t know anything about and don’t know how to deal with.

That’s the way my brain feels sometimes. Well, regularly. Again, writing, for myself or with/to others, is something that helps, to some degree, especially blogging and penpalling is what I’m thinking of.

Also, I think the bird cage analogy works very well in regards to my sleep paralysis experiences too. It feels like my brain and me are locked up in a bird cage with all my dream monsters. I can see the outside world but they don’t see me, and I can’t run away because my dream “friends” are all over me. The only thing I can do is wait for the dream cage to open and flee as soon as possible.

What’s a bird cage of your brain? How does it look like and what does it represent? 🙂

Astrid S. – “Think Before I Talk”.

Hey people! 🙂

The song I have for you today is from one of my recently most favourite pop Norwegian singers, Astrid Smeplass, known mostly as Astrid S, who is a pretty successful singer in Norway but also abroad as it seems. And since I heard this song for the first time last year it just got stuck in my brain, and I still like it quite a lot.

Remembering… or how to tell your brain it’s over?

I’m remembering

a lot of stuff from the past lately. Lots and lots of memories which I try to ignore, and sometimes I succeed, sometimes not. So I thought maybe writing about it would help, if ignoring doesn’t work out too well. Those memories are mostly related to the beginning of the school year, which used to be an absolute nightmare for over a decade.

I see people from my family and others buying their kids things for school, I hear my Mum talking how she’s afraid of the next schol year for Zofijka, I notice time flying so quickly and September approaching, and each time I see any signs of the school year coming, I have to remind my brain, it’s not you now, it’s over. But it doesn’t listen for too long, and soon I get overflooded by another wave of memories.

I remember all those days and nights before I”d go back to the boarding school when I cut myself ’cause my pain and helplessness were too bad. I remember not being able to eat and sleep because of the anxiety. I remember the feelings of utter loneliness and not belonging anywhere, along with many other overwhelming feelings with which I couldn’t cope, but finally I always had to cope somehow, so I just bottled them up, feeling them rising inside of me with every second. I remember feeling very unsafe and rebelled that I had to leave everything that felt nice, familiar, everything and everyone that I loved, and how desperate I was to not do it. I felt guilty and weak because even though the situation was the same and obvious for so many years, that there was no alternative for me, I still couldn’t adjust to it. Well in a way I did, but the adjustment was only hiding what I felt so it wouldn’t bother anyone else, because well how long can it take you to accept something so obvious and inevitable that if you have special needs and need special education, you need to go to school where they can adjust things to you, and there aren’t many of such so most children have to be away from their families. For me that was an issue, and it looked like it was wrong.

Those feelings always accompanied me when I had to leave home and go to the boarding school, but when the school year was starting, they were particularly intense. Because the school year always meant changes. Changes that could often regard me more or less, but even if they were directly to do with me, it wasn’t a norm that I, or even any of my parents, were asked about our opinion, whether we agree on them or not, whether they’re acceptable. That was normal there. If you had a friend, who was also your roommate, with whom you lived for years, you got to know very well, you should be aware that when you come back to school next year, you may suddenly be informed that you two will no longer live together because… just because. And you could not only be moved to another room, but also to a completely different group. THis exact situation didn’t happen to me, only because I didn’t have real friends there, but it did to one of my classmates and she was just told to get over it, because it was necessary and such situations happen in life so she has to get used to it. I though changed my roommates very often too, and it was often very tough. And many other changes could await you there, hardly, if ever, nice.

So yeah, I was just sick of anxiety every year before the start of school year, and afterwards too.

But it’s now four years since I got out of there, and I am so happy about it, yet each time it’s close to September, my brain goes mad. Even this year, when I’m completely free of that freaky brain washing machine called education system. I even had a pretty yucky dream last night, I haven’t have this kind of memory dreams in a while, but that one was yucky and it took me quite a while to get back to the present after I woke up. Those dreams aren’t particularly scary, like creepy or something, but are just kinda made of my crappy memories so reliving them over and over definitely isn’t nice aND I wake up feeling nausious and stressed out.

As I wrote earlier today in Music Monday Care & Love post, I am trying to fill this week with various self care activities and other enjoyable things, and that helps me to stay in the present and focus on the positive, and there is much positive stuff going on in my life. Plus it helps me to not slip down again to that self-loathing hole, which is always very easy when I’m having memories. But it doesn’t stop my brain from going back to the past, often at least expected moments.

So I wonder, how do you make your brain know it’s over? It seems all so complicated.

 

Question of the day.

What was the last thing you got angry about?

My answer:

Seriously angry I was on 3rd July, I feel always a lot of anger when I feel overwhelmed with lots of feelings and so it was on that day, but I feel like I wasn’t angry about anything speciffic, just a lot of things together plus maybe some bottled up stuff from God knows when in the past.

Less angry I was yesterday, at my computer, or more exactly at my screen reader, which suddenly refused to work and then it turned out that my SAPI5 crashed, which led to pretty weird things happening and me not being able to use most of my speech synthesisers, which, if you use multiple languages regularly and alternately, also such that aren’t very popular, can be an issue.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is the last thing you cried about?

My answer:

Cried like cried or just felt like crying? I have issues with crying and with expressing emotions generally, so, although I’ve learned to cry, it’s still really hard to do for me and I am rarely able to really let my emotions out through crying. I can feel like crying, or like I would really really like to cry very often, but I don’t cry often at all. I guess the last time I cried was in May, after one of my finals, and then I literally cried all the way back home and even afterwards and couldn’t stop, it was all scary! But the last time I felt like crying was last week on Tuesday, and it was also in some part related to my finals. But generally I felt like crying because I was just overwhelmed by lots of emotions and triggered, but just couldn’t let it out in any way, or figure out what’s actually ging on inn my brain, I was also extremely angry at that time and when I feel angry I often feel on the verge of tears, just like my Mum. In most situations I am glad I am not an easy cryer, like many women in my family are, but sometimes I would really like to be able to relieve myself through tears but it just seems impossible nowadays after all those years of bottling things up.

How about you? 🙂

Question of the day.

What is the most important thing a person can do to improve themselves?

My answer:

Another hard one… Umm, a person? Every person? I think it’s hard to find a thing which all the people could do to improve themselves as we all have so different qualities… and so different values so what’s important to me doesn’t necessarily have to be important to you.

But the first thing I thought about was to become more empathetic. Most of us, unless severely hurt in childhood or having some conditions like brain damages, are empathetic to a varying degree, but I think also most of us could make more use of it or improve our empathy. I think it’s often that when we do something we know is good for us it sometimes happens that we tend to think so much about advantages which we will have of it, that we might not see other people who may be also influenced by our decisions and won’t benefit from them or may even feel hurt. Sometimes we feel emotional, arguing with someone or something like this and our emotions change our view on things. We see our feelings first and then other people’s and we often say things that may be hurtful for them just because we feel hurt. We know they will feel pain and it isn’t necessary to hurt them, but we don’t try to feel how it would be to be in their situation.

I think if we tried to imagine possibly exactly how a person may feel when we do something, or how would we feel being in their shoes, we would do much less hurtful things to people and maybe even start to do more nice things to them. Of course too extreme empathy isn’t good either, but I feel like most of us would benefit if we tried to improve this quality in us. And it would be definitely a big self improvement.

What is such thing in your opinion?

Present.

It’s often hard for me to live in the present

.I’ve always had a tendency to either worry to much about the future, or delve in the past, analysing all the awful stuff that happened to me or idealising my good memories, or when my future seemed absolutely hopeless to me, to escape into daydreams where everything looked colourful and I could entertain myself with millions of beautiful scenarios of my life and the reality around me.

I noticed it at some point a few years ago, while talking with my Mum about something good that happened to me in the past and I was all like “oh it was so good back then” and Mum finally told me something that really amazed me and gave me a lot to think about. She said she thinks I think about the past or the future so much that I don’t live the present and can’t appreciate it, and so my own life flies past beside me, without me taking actually part in it. And although it sounded harsh and brutal for me back then and I immediately said it’s not true, it stayed with me and I thought about it a lot.

Finally I realised it’s true. I realised that when those things I liked so much about the past, when all those nice moments were happening, I didn’t think much about them, didn’t think they are nice because my mind was focused on so many other things, negative and stressful things, so I didn’t really live that moment, only in my memories afterwards. I know now that there is even the word for it in the Welsh language, which can’t be translated directly to English, it is “hiraeth” and it means longing for things, or particularly places, that don’t really exist, because you idealised them in your mind. Like your motherland for example, when you’re an emigrant. Some time passed away, so it could change, and your mind deludes you that it was better than it ever was because, the grass is always greener… obviously. Hiraeth may also refer to the longing for something you don’t know, so you know you feel the longing or yearning and it’s very strong, but you don’t know what’s it all about so it’s a bit frustrating. Oh but I shouldn’t talk about the hiraeth now!

So I realised I was experiencing that what now I know as hiraeth and decided to change it. I thought it is a total and pointless waste of energy and of time to do what I did.

I started to try to see all the positive things around me and, pretty quickly actually, it wasn’t already so hard for me to notice different small things in life that could be enjoyable. I still am a pessimist, but not of that kind that don’t see any positives at all. My pessimism, as I wrote sometime before, is more of a defensive nature. And it doesn’t stop me from being positive and grateful for all the good things in life. I am very often depressed, but, unless it hits me really hard for some time, usually I’m not anhedonic, so, I still have my passions, things I like to do, and they usually help me. Also I cope better with not so distant future. Like, let’s say about three years ago, if I would have a nice weekend and could do lots of things I like, everything would be great, I wouldn’t focus on the weekend, but would likely freak out about all the stressful things that wait for me on Monday. Now I rarely experience it to an extent that really disturbs me a lot. If I have something stressing ahead, it’s still in the back of my mind, but if I’m doing something better right now, I surely won’t focus on that stressful thing. Why should I do it?

I think it is now easier to appreciate the life and all about it more, because the present is just easier for me than the past was. Just the fact that I wasn’t seriously suicidal in years now means I’m now in much better place than I was back then.

Unfortunately, I’m still worrying, sometimes almost obsessively, about the more distant future, it’s very hard to control it, especially in times like these, when I’m finishing one of the stages in my life and aren’t quite sure what to do next. I am still daydreaming, and, especially at night, different crappy memories like to remind me about their existence. I’m still trying to unlearn it. But at least I haven’t that feeling, that my life is going beside me, and I am stuck in the past or in the future and don’t take any advantage of it.

Do you also feel sometimes like you’re not living the present?

 

A bit of a mental health update.

I’ve had quite a tough time in a few recent days. It started on Thursday and it was even more tough because it was my birthday, so, you know, people would expect you to be happy, smiling and beaming, while I felt everything but that. Since I got up, I felt just so overwhelmingly depressed, plus extremely irritable and emotional, like anything you’d say could make me cry or scream, just like a minefield. Very unstable. So, although as I wrote some time before, I am still a master at stifling emotions and no one really could really see anything that’s going on inside me, even my Mum didn’t realise until I told her, it was really hard to keep things under control.
I had a very poor sleep the night before and maybe that contributed to it. I fell asleep sometime between 4 and 5, I had so many thoughts and feelings on my mind that they kept me up and anxious for the most part of the night. Luckily when I finally fell asleep, it wasn’t disrupted and I had some time to catch up on sleep before the noon. So as I said, I felt just massive floods of emotions going through me when I woke up. I felt like I was shaking inside and had a lump of rage and tears constantly in my throat, as if I was close to a meltdown, which felt a bit scary.
I tried to be smiling and I think I succeeded, after all I am sure that if not my emotional disregulation, I would surely enjoy that day much more.
My sis Zofijka was very sweet to me. She bought me a Toffifee, she knows I love Toffifee and she loves it too, so we were eating it together. Also she got me a pillow which looks like a cat and she called it Misha. My Mum got me a salt lamp, which is really lovely. And I got a cat figurine made of onyx from my Dad, so my gem stone figurines collection is now a bit bigger. It is very lovely too. I felt very grateful for how they knew what would make me happy.
The first more difficult moment for me during that day happened when my aunt, who is also my God mother called me to wish me happy birthday. She is kind of know-all person, quite judgmental and that’s why she often, consciously or not, hurts people with her straight-away, judgmental opinions, which surely aren’t facts, or with her “good advices”. I think almost everyone knows someone like this, who wishes you only well, but in fact every time you talk to them, you feel drained or hurt.
So this time wasn’t an exception and she kind of worsened my mood even more. So I decided that before any guests will come, I need some Mishtime, just Misha and me, otherwise I will explode and people will be surely very astonished and confused. So we had some time together with Misha and with some good, Norwegian electronic music on. I think Mishka realised in some way that I need him, because he stayed beside me for an entire hour, although it’s so not his style. We lied together and I was stroking him and listening to his sounds – his heartbeat, breath, his tummy and any other Mishsounds. They are all sooo cute! 😀 Really. And they are so soothing. That’s why I sometimes wish I could go inside Misha and hide there, although my sis says it’s weird, because she thinks Misha can’t be even a bit as beautiful inside as he is outside and she’d prefer to be small enough to fit his basket and curl up in there with him. Anyway, Mishtime made me a bit more relaxed for a while, but just for a while.
Finally the guests came and it turned out we’ll be having quite a lot of extended family here. Our family is rather big and they like gatherings and their food, especially my Dad’s family, so it was really quite a bunch of people. Although I know them all more or less obviously since they are my family, I didn’t feel very confident in such a big group of people so the anxiety turned on at some point as well. And then we also had a little family drama, not regarding me directly, but indirectly and it made me even more emotional, so after a few hours I just needed urgently to go away from all this. So did it. Misha was following me so we both went to the bathroom and I had a long, hot shower and cried my guts out, as I felt I needed it, where as Misha enjoyed his favourite activity – drank the water from the tap in the tube. He always drinks from everywhere but his own bowl. 😀 I couldn’t really get exactly why I had all these emotions and why they were so intense and mixed. So I cried a lot and for a while I felt I let it out, but it couldn’t be all, because I still was feeling very depressed and hopeless and lonely, although paradoxically the living room was full of people who came to me, at least theoretically. But I knew that if I came to them, the feeling of loneliness wouldn’t decrease. And I was just as crappy as I didn’t feel in weeks already. And then before I even fully realised what I’m doing, I cut myself. Again. Ughhh… Then, of course, endorphines started to work. But again, just for a while.
So I decided that I need to call my therapist. Well I’ve told you already that she isn’t my therapist any longer formally, but since I don’t have any other regular therapy instead, she checks in with me from time to time, like once a month or so. She’s very busy and has a few jobs, so it’s often hard for her to carve out some time. That’s why I was almost sure she won’t be able to talk.
But she was. And it already felt like a huge relief. I told her how unstable and chaotic I feel and like I can burst out with any minute and how unsafe I feel because of that and that I have no clue what could cause it, only that it may be some unprocessed stuff from the past or something like this. Then while talking to her about all that, I realised that it might be also due to PMS, as I have it. There was a little discussion about PMS on one of the lists I’m on exactly the same day, but I didn’t realise it may be due to PMS, or partly because of it, before I started to talk about it to my therapist.I talked to her about what’s going on in my life. That recently I am having sleep paralysis and all the scary dreams regularly again so often wake up pretty exhausted before I even start doing something more constructive. I also talked to her about my anxiety levels which are shifting quite a lot now, sometimes I can feel almost no anxiety and then suddenly it just hits me so strong that it’s sometimes really hard to stand it. Sometimes I even don’t see the reason of such reaction very clearly. And it’s often hard to hide from people that I am anxious, which I hate, because it still makes me quite unsafe when I know or even suppose that other people may realise what I’m feeling at the moment. I told her that I often feel like I don’t get myself AT ALL and how it damn frustrates me. And that I cut myself and now am frustrated about that too. We also talked briefly about my social anxiety in connection to my birthday. She already knows that this school year is extremely hard for me because of the final exams coming in May and stuff related to that as well as because I feel very unsecure about my future and it just looks so shitty and hopeless to me. So she asked me also about these things and how I am doing school wise. I told her that besides that previous exam session being much tougher for me emotionally than I’d expect and how drained I was afterwards, it’s fairly well with this now, I decided to slow down before the next term starts ’cause I feel I really need it and now I’m trying to think about school and my future as little as possible, but I think I’ll have a gap year before I’ll start with any further education. Just to have more time to consider what would be the best for me and also to recharge after this year. And maybe gain some new skills like a new language, find another job, so I’ll have more money either to save for the future or spare just for things I enjoy since I can do this now as I live with my family. That’s what my Mum told me would be wise to do, to take a gap year, and I think so too. My therapist said it’s reasonable indeed. We also talked about my relationship with my Dad, which was always difficult, complicated I mean, but rather good and recently started to break down a bit which worries me and makes me a bit confused. And we talked a lot about many different emotions and feelings and the content of my dreams and other things that are a bit too private to put it here, plus some of them are still fairly difficult for me to talk about.
Anyway, she was able to put some of the weight off me and I felt a little bit more uplifted, even just the fact that she was accessible for me and I had someone supportive to talk to did a lot for me. I felt much more encouraged and not so much hopeless, although it still wasn’t ideally.
She told me that she’s of course not a doctor, but she thinks I am in a lot of distress because of all that what’s going on and if she’d be me, she’d ask my doc to put me on Afobam again.
I was taking Afobam some time ago for a while and it really worked for me so I think it’s not a bad thought and I think I’ll do it next week. Also she told me she would really like to be able to schedule some regular sessions for me, ’cause that’s definitely what I need in her opinion, so she said it would be good if I could find someone who would provide me support on a regular basis. THat may not be as easy though, but I was also thinking about it a lot recently, so looks like it’s time for it.
Misha was still with me as talked to my therapist and purred loudly. I think there really might be something more to that theory that animals are very good at feeling our emotions, he was just so sweet that day. Or maybe he realised it was my birthday haha.
So when we finished, I went downstairs to see what’s up and helped my Mum a bit to tidy up and then went straight to bed with Misha, as I still felt quite depressed and exhausted. The next day I talked to my Mum about my call with the therapist and what we talked about and generally about everything related. She isn’t always very understanding, but was very supportive when I talked to her and we talked honestly and openly for about an hour which I really appreciated. And my Mum also told me she feels like she might have PMS right now, ’cause that day was also hard for her. I didn’t have that overwhelming feeling of too many mixed emotions inside me any longer, although was still feeling depressive throughout the day. But it wasn’t as scary as on Thursday, it really made a huge difference for me.
Today, besides poor sleep again and still feeling a bit depressive, I feel much more stable. My therapist checked in with me today in the morning via email and seemed very pleased to hear about my conversation with Mum. So that’s it, I really hope it’ll get only better from now on. Hope you all are having great weekend. 🙂