Choosing happiness

A few days ago I read a quote while mindlessly scrolling through my feed and it went something like this “Happiness/joy is a state of mind that you choose”. When I first read it, I didn’t think much of it, it just scrolled by on my screen.

I’ve been thinking about this for the past few days though and today at dinner I brought it up with T. I often discuss thoughts like these with him as he as such a different worldview then me and it’s often interesting and informative to hear his standpoint.

I asked him if he ever had thought about it and he quickly said yes, he had been thinking along those lines before. We spoke about it while eating and I slowly put words on the thoughts I’ve been carrying since I first read it. It was hard because I wasn’t sure what my own opinion was.

But this is something so alien to me as happiness have always been a destination, something you must endure hardships and heartaches to attain. Something you are rewarded with for being successful in life. Not something that you simply choose for yourself like deciding what shirt you would like to wear or which breakfast cereal to buy this time.

With that said, this is something that I would like for myself. I would like to get out of the darkness of my own thoughts and state of mind. I get that it wont be easy, it might take years to get there if I ever do. But it would be nice if I could, I think I would like it.

Broken record

I’m heading deeper into the depression. Sleeping 14 hours a night is something I’ve been doing for roughly a week by now. I’m trying to cut myself some slack but without much success. It’s gotten to the point where I’ve told my nurse at the psychiatrist ward that I want to get in contact with my doctor, the chief physician, to look over if we can adjust my medication or do something else to give me some relief from the anxiety.

My downwards spiral was worsened by a letter that arrived in my mailbox two days ago. It was from my administrator at Försäkringskassan. The letter said that they are “considering” rejecting my application for disability pension since I’m not sick enough, or something like that. Now, I know they are strict with their judgement but it still affected me very badly.

I’ve tried to get in contact with the administrator, as the letter suggests that I can, to talk about why they are considering rejecting my application and if there’s something I can do to explain just how much I’m affected by this crap. For two days there’s been nothing but silence. I did leave her a message the day the letter came, saying I wanted to get in touch with her.

Today she finally called, two minutes after I went into my opticians office. Two minutes!! 😠The only half hour the past 72 hours that I really couldn’t answer she calls. I was so pissed off once I saw that I had missed her call. So now I need to carry on with myself and wait yet another day and hope that she calls me tomorrow and that I can answer, or that I get hold of her somehow before she leaves her office for the weekend.

My whole body aches at this point. I’ve had to take my migraine nasal spray and painkillers to at least alleviate the pain somewhat. I was in bed by 21:30 (9:30 pm) yesterday and it looks like this will be the case for today as well. But considering that I know that the administrator at Försäkringskassan will be in her office at 08:00 (8 am) I might just want to go to bed early so I can get up and call her first thing tomorrow.

I feel so whiny. But sadly, this is what’s up right now. There aren’t many things that are on my mind, just really big ones. The move. The polyp and possible new cancer cases in the family. The administrator and the whole shebang with that. One of these things had been enough. But this is how it is according to Murphys Law, everything that can go wrong will go wrong and preferably at the same time.

Now excuse me, I’ll go hide in the arms of my husband for the rest of the evening.

No rest for the wicked

This always happens nowadays. A thing, an event: “X” is scheduled to happen. For days before “X”, I go with heavy steps thinking “I don’t want to do X”. I force myself to do “X” anyway. I think, “I gotta get used to doing shit like this sometime” and truck on.

Sometimes “X” goes well and I enjoy myself even though I felt so badly about it beforehand. Sometimes “X” heads straight to hell and I’m panicking before it even begins. In the latter case I must heavily medicate with extra anti-anxiety meds to just be able to stay in the room, let alone be sane enough to hold a coherent conversation.

But as a interesting side effect, I can’t remember shit. This is because some of the heavier anti-anxiety meds affect the ability to form short term memories. So I don’t only have to try to reason with myself when I’m panicking with anxiety coming out of my every pore, I also have to battle memory loss. “Well, that’s an easy fix isn’t it?” some helpful cretin asks me “Just take less meds and the problem are gone! No?” Sigh..

For days after “X” I shuffle around at home like a zombie in PJ’s, unable to rest but too tired to do something constructive. My mind is constantly buzzing with what if’s and I writhe, obsessing over every word I exchanged with everyone. The unrest makes me feel annoyed and I lash out at everything, but even that only gives me grief for I hate not being able to control my temper and let my mood go out over the ones I love.

But I reject the cats, T and anyone else who try to come close. I can conceal it, hide whatever feeling I’m having at the moment when out from the apartment, but the anger are still there. I just want to be left alone. I don’t have energy to handle myself, much less handle anyone else at that moment.

It’s so much easier to just isolate myself then have to explain this time and time again. T knows me well enough by now to just leave me alone when I enter this kind of mood, I’ve even learnt to communicate that need to him. It’s closely connected to my energy levels and we both know that it will go away once I get some rest. But how soon that will happen is anyone’s guess.

This time the “X” was the last session of my Mage group yesterday. I’ve had crippling anxiety because of it, but I was determined to have it happen as I wanted to talk to the group about shutting the campaign down. I felt like I was clear when I said it would be the last session we had before we moved. Some seemed to pick up on the wording but for some it just flew over their heads. So now I’m tired because of the social interaction from yesterday and also because I’m beating myself up for the poor wording I obviously had.

But I will have no time for rest. The move is quickly coming upon us and I still feel like I have so much to do. Even when the anxiety for the RPG-session goes away, I will still be stressed out about the move. I both long for the 19th of February and fears it at the same time. I need to feel my secured fort beneath my feet, this move is shaking everything at the moment.

No dice!

I almost lost my mind today. I had just picked up T from the train station and we had gone to Sibylla (fast food joint) for something to eat. T’s phone has been acting real weird, it’s this old thing from before the dinosaurs went extinct, so it’s probably on it’s last breath. This lead us to talk about our economy and T, somewhat carelessly, said “I have no clue about our money any longer”.

This lead me to believe that he spoke generally, as in he had no clue about the loan we need to take or the amount that we need to pay in advance. That he hadn’t spoken to the bank about the bill that arrived two days ago didn’t help his case at all.

My mind and imagination quickly sprinted off and an feeling of intense unease flushed over me, making me feel sick to my stomach. “What do you mean ‘You have no clue’? You are the one who should have complete control over the economy” I said in the car, referring to the fact that he is the one who have arranged everything with the bank up to this point. I was close to crying when he just shrugged as an answer but I kept on asking him what he meant as I desperately wanted him to tell me it was all a mistake or a cruel joke.

Slowly it dawned upon him that we weren’t talking about the same thing, he was talking about the amount of money we will have left, after we have paid the advance. I was talking about the advance. But by now I was reeling and was an inch from a complete meltdown as we arrived home. T managed to get the upper hand in the situation and calmed me down by doing just what I had wished for; clarifying that it was all a mistake.

See, you almost won today as you revealed your ugly face Mr. Stress. But no dice!

Chaos

dl-1xpgwaaehw_tSo I’ve dyed my hair so much I burned off another 6-7 centimeters. Instead of fighting this uphill battle, with my hair being totally destroyed time and time again, I went to my hair dresser and had her cut it all off. I now sport one of those really short haircuts that I’m used to having and I’ll start over again.

I am freaking out about the move. I’m over the top happy about it at the same time as I’m scared senseless. I won’t pin this hair mess to the move, this began earlier then that, but it’s a contributing factor.

I finally got my ass off my hands and got to clean out the wardrobe. I mostly have to pack the majority of stuff down now. I think I’ll attack the living room tomorrow and focus on items that we want to keep but doesn’t need to have up. That way I can sort out stuff I think we’ll need but still go over and pack whatever else is left.

I am more affected by this polyp thing then I’ve allowed myself to feel. I was telling T about my mood on Saturday after the Mage RPG-session and when I was (what I thought at least) glossing over how I felt about it all I suddenly found myself crying. It was shortly after this that the hair frenzy ensued once more.

My gut feeling is that I don’t want to post this, my mind is everywhere. This is an unorganized side of myself that I strongly dislike. I used to be the most focused, robust person and now I can’t even control my impulses. I’m so, so tired. But even through my tiredness I can’t sleep when I go to bed and I can’t sit still. I have to do something all the time.

And now I’m worried that I came off snobbishly in the group chat I have with my family. We are meeting up this summer and everyone is scouring for the cheapest living quarters and here I am, looking at four star hotels just because I can. I didn’t put it like that. But everyone was stating their flights and hotels so I mentioned that I made a reservation at the one that is most popular with my family but that I also was looking at this other hotel since T had steered me there. He isn’t coming with me on this so he thought I could splurge a little bit. But this is a very Swedish thing, I get that some of you might not understand where this is coming from. I’ll go over that another time.

Bah, to hell with it all. I’ll go to bed and make sure to get some badly needed sleep.

My dad

I called my dad the day after the colonoscopy. I knew from before that they’ve removed polyps on him and I felt that I wanted to talk to someone who also had faced that. Dad was very supportive and understanding, I felt like he understood perfectly when I said I knew there wasn’t really anything to worry about at this stage but that it was a heavy piece of news anyway and that I felt kinda small.

Our relationship have always been kinda strained and weird, mother was cheating on him around the same time I was conceived so I know he was wasn’t always sure I really was his child. He never demanded a DNA test of my mother but it left little to the imagination when he mumbled “Oh, so you’re really mine then” when my blood sample came back positive for Lynch Syndrome. Not to forget that I bear a very clear resemblance of my aunt and grandmother and also got the same refraction error and hair color as dad.

It might sound harsh, hearing that from your dad, but I know he meant nothing ill with it. Neither he nor mother have spoken much about what drove them apart but I’ve understood that it really hurt him deeply. I think he never forgave her for that particular thing.

Strange as it might sound, this Lynch Syndrome thing have brought me closer to my family, I feel a desire to spend time with them because of it. All my cousins haven’t taken the test but those of us that have and carries the gene are the third generation in this family that goes through it and it kind of binds us together.

It’s quite dark humor but we also joke about our operations, calling us the BWO’s (Bodies Without Organs) of our family. The BWO’s so far are me, my dad, one of my uncles and my aunt. We hope we can keep the club rather exclusive and not have to count anyone else to it but if cancer is found we honestly say “Well, it’s good that they found it” after cursing (preferably in Finnish).

But I heard the compassion and sadness in dad’s voice during the phone call. Dad have said that he wished that none of his children had to carry this in their lifetime and that he was saddened that I had to. There’s always a chance nothing pops up even if the person is carrying the gene and I guess he had hoped that this would be the case for me. But just hearing his voice and the kind words he said gave me so much strength. No matter our faltering relationship in the past –unnamed

Reigniting my love for cooking (?)

For some time now I’ve been watching Gordon Ramsay’s YouTube channel, getting inspired to get my hands into cooking again. My very first year at the gymnasium I chose to get into the Hotel and Restaurant program, but my interest for computers was always bigger. I switched schools (and towns) and went on to study as a programmer, thinking that I must have been insane to try and become a chef.

Now, I know I won’t be the next Gordon Ramsay, but just by watching his videos I’ve felt that old spark ignite again. He has a certain, very positive energy when cooking himself and the love he has for his craft are hard to deny. Cooking is something I used to enjoy, whatever happened? For a long time I’ve felt like food was bothersome, a weight on my shoulders that I just didn’t want to have there.

I’ve looked into powder and liquid based food replacement but never really successfully stayed there for a longer period of time. I keep going back to solid food because of one simple reason: Good food are so very rewarding to eat. Me and T both love to try new things, especially when we’re travelling and really can immerse ourselves into a new  food culture.

I’ve already begun with cooking a bit more at home. I have a few selected ingredients in my kitchen for a few recipes that I know well and I plan on making them during the holidays. I’m thinking I can practise with something I know well before I move on to new, strange lands.

I know there will be hard work remastering this. It’s like playing a new game, you need to practise before you get good/remember how to play. But just a small thing like chopping the onions today for the Christmas dish I’m cooking was something I found enjoyable rather then tiresome.

My hopes are that I will remember my love for cooking, gain momentum and start cooking at home again. It would help immensely if I started to cook more, I would get better control over what ends up on my plate as I want to stop with pre-cooked or semi-finished meals.