Grumpy cloud ceramic brooch by LittleRabbitsShop available here.
Oh well, the happiness of 2015 made it as far as February, but it was fun while it lasted. I had been feeling so much better, heart-wise, having not had a really ill-feeling day since new year, an unprecedented length of time. I hoped I was feeling better because of all the hard work I was doing with my lifestyle and that all the hard work I'd done to sort my head out was actually helping with my physical symptoms. Now I've been feeling ill since Saturday and am off work today and it's made me realise that I was being over-optimistic (Me? Over-optimistic? I know!) and had it all back-to-front. Actually, I was feeling happier because I wasn't feeling constantly ill and I wasn't feeling constantly ill because of some random blip, not because of anything I have control of. And this realisation is making me lose determination in my goal to lose weight and improve my fitness. I still know, deep down, that making an effort with all that stuff can only be positive, it just seems like I'm still right at the bottom of the massive mountain and that I'll never get more than a few metres up it, which seems like a pretty meagre reward for so much hard work. And all the hard work I do on sorting my head out also seems fruitless. It's really hard to feel happy when you don't have enough oxygen in your system to allow you to stand up without ill effect, no matter how much CBT and positive thinking you employ.
It was just such a relief to feel some hope that I could make things better. I don't want to feel like this for ever. And I'm not proposing giving up, I know trying to stick to my mental and physical health goals could still make some difference and that some difference, no matter how small, is better than no difference, but it's hard to be excited about that really. It's a slog, a slog that I'm attempting with a pillow over my face.