every day life – Honest Lies

The One With The C Word

Great Spotted Woodpecker, as seen from my home ‘office’.* There was a pair of them but the second flew off well before I had my camera out.

The world has turned upside down.

It’s been about a week since I started working from home. I don’t mind it; I enjoy the quiet and being around my fish and the view from my ‘office’* window, which is of a forest, where I am able to see many different birds and many squirrels. I open the window to hear the birds sing and feel the fresh air, so different from the office environment. But it can be hard to concentrate. I don’t usually struggle working from home but I feel particularly anxious now and it’s effecting me. My mind feels like it’s been pulled in so many directions right now, so much noise to fight through to focus on the daily to-dos and so easy to get pulled away from the day to day mundane into the panic and shock of the utter strangeness of everything else.

Ultimately,

It’s one thing to stay home by choice, and another because there is no other option. I had the radio on the other day and the music was great and even to hear the sound of the presenter was oddly nice, but hearing the news every hour left me feeling riddled with anxiety. But even without the news playing every hour it’s hard to resist the temptation to check for news, it’s hard to switch your brain away from everything that is happening. It finds a way to always be there, on the periphery of your thoughts, tugging for your attention. I feel distracted, I find myself wanting to snack more, I find myself unable to get comfortable, so restless and on edge.

The supermarkets are half empty, I had to go to three supermarkets to find toilet paper, and I am unable to find painkillers, nor flour, yeast or eggs, which makes me particularly sad, as I was looking forward to baking bread and making cake to help me pass the time and well, because it’s delicious. (You gotta find things to make you happy, right?) I am growing increasingly annoyed with my neighbours, having to be around them and their children every moment of every day, compared to the little time we usually spend living our lives in parallel. (I am sure they must be feeling the same way, hearing me walking about above their heads all day and sometimes, if I can’t sleep, in the early hours of the night.) I am failing at following all the work from home advice – I wear a mix of lounge wear and pajamas, I haven’t been going for walks and I haven’t really established as much of a schedule as I should, and I find myself subsequently working much longer to ensure I am getting my hours in (I find myself working in chunks of focussed time split by short breaks which is working with my current short attention span but also does not feel particularly efficient) I have been taking advantage of my lunch break but mainly to lie down, exhausted and worried, and allow my mind to wander before I have to force myself to concentrate on work again.

I have had a concert and a musical cancelled. My sister’s hen do was called off and, more and most devastating, my sister’s wedding is under threat of cancellation. I am feeling very grateful to have a job that allows me to work from home, to have space to work from home in relative comfort, to not have to be juggling work with childcare, to not have a big event looming like a wedding which could be cancelled. I am grateful but also worried for the future, wondering how long this will go on for and worrying for those around me. I worry about the economy and my finances. I worry about the food shortages. I worry so much about my family. I find hope in the small positives, such as reading about reduced carbon emissions and increasing wildlife in cities. Perhaps some good can come from this and certainly we will pull through, somehow, but everything feels so bleak and uncertain right now….

Everything feels so strange and so wrong and so utterly surreal.

*I mean , it’s my spare bedroom and also the fish room and also my home study and also an extra storage space…

The One With No Betta Fish

Betta Fish

Alfred, Betta Fish
Yesterday I buried my eldest Betta fish.

I admit that usually I would dispose of my fish in the trash, as I feel that although callous it’s the most responsible thing to do and I don’t have access to a private garden to bury them anyway. But Alfred, my eldest Betta, I took home to my parents to bury him in their garden. He went next to Theo, my youngest Betta, who passed away just over a month ago. It feels pretty rubbish to have lost them both, to see the empty tanks, to feel like maybe it was my fault, did I not care for them properly?

Alfred was my first Betta fish purchased in August 2016. I blogged about the experience of buying him here. He was a veil tail Betta with a red body and bluey purple fins and flecks of silver around his gills. At first I had him in an undersized 19L then I moved him into a 24L in which I put a chunk of gorgeous mopani wood and stuffed it full of fake plants, each chosen carefully so it wouldn’t tear his long fins. He was a gorgeous fish and full of personality. When I was in the room he would watch me, swimming up to the side of the tank to stare at me. When I approached the tank he would swim up to the side of the tank and, if I got too close, he would flare at me. He would build huge bubble nests. He loved frozen bloodworm and to eat tiny flies that I would catch and chuck in the tank for him. I had to be careful about placing my hands in his tank for too long as he would stalk and attack me. He bit me a few times! Really, he was grumpy and ill tempered but he was my little dude and my companion for three years. His feistyness and his weirdness and all his antics filled me with joy. But, not so much in recent months. His death was a long time coming and I am grateful that he made his third ‘birthday’. Truthfully, I have been watching my little dude suffer terribly for a couple of months now. I honestly don’t know when or how he got sick, but I definitely noticed it during the end. His stomach swelled up and his beautiful fins turned raggedy and he couldn’t swim properly. My little dude who would beg for food multiple times a day (see: him staring at me and swimming up to the side of the tank when I approached ) would only come out for food every few days and he would struggle to eat it, struggling to keep himself afloat for long enough. It was painful too see. I feared he had dropsy and, knowing that it was likely fatal even if treatment is attempted I did my best to keep him comfortable and happy until the inevitable happened. But it was hard. And then I went to London for a few days for work and when I came back I couldn’t see him. The next day I found him and he wasn’t moving. I told myself he was just resting. But the next day he hadn’t moved still and I knew. I feel so guilty that I don’t know when he died. I was so busy that week, have been all this month and the last, I didn’t pay enough attention and I lost him without knowing when. I feel stupidly sad too. It took all my courage to get him out the tank and I could barely look at his limp, rotting body.

I thought after Theo died I would be better able to handle it, but I wasn’t.

Betta Fish

Theodore, Betta Fish. The red marking on his head is the wound he developed.
Theo was my youngest Betta fish. I bought him on a whim as blogged about here. This was also in August, but a year after Alfred. I put him in the same 19L as I had Alfred until I could eventually get him set up in his permanent 24L. I also put a nice chunk of wood in for him and lots of silky fake plants. I had rainbow gravel in his tank, the better to show off his colors. He was a stunning fish. He was a metallic blue crown tail Betta, with red and purple shifts on his fins and around his gills. He was a gentler fish than Alfred, sweeter. He rarely flared at me and he would get so excited when I approached the tank. I could trail my finger in the water and he would follow it. I would play with him like that, making him chase after his food in a similar way, and he seemed to enjoy it. He never attacked my hands like Alfred. He was fussier and preferred his Betta food though he did not mind the occasional bit of bloodworm. He tried to build bubble nests but he never became very good at it (they would disintegrate quickly). One day I noticed he had a small wound on his body. I didn’t think much of it, I figured it would heal. I tested the water just to be sure and the chemistry was fine so I figured I shouldn’t worry about infections. Of course, it got infected. It didn’t heal, he became weak and reclusive, barely eating. At one point I thought he had died because I found him lying on the bottom of his tank, motionless, but when I went to collect him he darted away. I never really knew if he was dead or alive, he was so still and hidden away during those final weeks. In desperation, seeing him still alive and clearly not dying and probably suffering, I bought an anti bacterial (methylene blue) and tried to treat him but it didn’t work. And eventually he passed away. I took him back to my parents and buried him there. He didn’t even make his second birthday. It killed me a little. I felt sure, still feel sure, that’s it my fault somehow.

I feel sad now, to see my empty Betta tanks. And my confidence as a fish keeper has taken a hit. Maybe I am not good enough at this, maybe I am too busy, away from home too often. My main shoal of fish are OK, although I am even having some trouble with their tank, just the icing on the cake.

Having pets can be really hard. Their lives are so short and watching them degrade and then die can really be quite painful.

However they bring so much joy too. I guess that makes it all worth it in the end.

I miss my Betta fishes but realistically they weren’t going to live very long and I really tried to care for them and give them a good life. I think they were comfortable and happy fish living their best life. I really tried to give that to them.

Will I get another Betta? Mostly likely yes, I just need some time…and also to figure out how to prepare the tanks to accept a new fish without making them sick too. You can’t use cleaning chemicals on or near fish tanks which makes sterilising and cleaning a bit of a question mark at times…

The One With The Forest

My family are a long time supporter of a certain UK woodland charity. My father bought a membership in my name when I was a little girl, and as part of that membership a tree was sponsored in my name in a local wood. We went to see that wood back then – there were no plaques or anything to mark the sponsorship of course but still I thought of it as my wood. Back then the saplings had only just been planted and it wasn’t really a wood just yet. Yesterday, I went to visit my wood for the first time in a long time, and was amazed at how the trees have grown and filled out, that field of tiny saplings transformed into dense woodland. It was so very different from how I remembered it, which was as small and sparse. It was amazing. And a remarkable reminder of the passage of time. (I wish I had a picture of it then for comparison, but I don’t think we even had a digital camera back then!)

The Thursday before last, my father phoned me. He said he had some good news and proceeded to let me know that my sister’s boyfriend had asked him earlier that day for permission to ask my sister to marry him. I probably shocked my dad by not responding in joy, but in bursting out into tears at that news. I have known for a while that this would happen, wanted it to happen because I knew how much my sister wanted it, but still there is something like grief that formed as I felt my sister moving further and further away from me. The fact that it was actually happening immediately overwhelmed me. My sister, my best friend, and the person I trust and love the most in this world, would get married and start a family of her own and where could I fit in? It’s already so hard to see her, she is always so busy, and I have missed her. Don’t get me wrong I was happy, but also fearful. I struggled to explain my reaction to my dad without giving too much away, trying to protect myself and keep my most ugly feelings unspoken, and in the end laughed it off, made some stupid joke or the other. My father swore me to secrecy – only he, my mom and myself knew and needed to know so that my sister wouldn’t find out. We spent a week waiting and wondering when my sister’s boyfriend would do it and desperate to tell someone, anyone.

This weekend I went home. My sisters cat was staying at my parents as my sister and her boyfriend are, in fact, away. I wanted to see the cat and yes, I wanted to be with my family. It was my sister’s birthday on Sunday and I was sure that the proposal would happen this weekend. I thought we should be together when it happened? I don’t know why. Saturday passed by uneventfully, lazying at home with the cat after a long , boring and thankfully uneventfully trip down to my parents. On Sunday, the weather was on the edge of a storm but we went out anyway, to my woods, for a lovely refreshing walk. It was a little damp and muddy but beautiful out there. My wood is very pretty.

My mom was grumpy and my dad talkative and the cat all over me and I was having a nice time. But I was still wondering what was going on with my sister and it was weighing on me.

Sunday afternoon, around 5pm, my sister sent though a picture of her left hand with a beautiful diamond ring on it. We were all pretty amazed that it had finally happened, having started to wonder if my sister’s boyfriend had chickened out. Relief, happiness, excitement, took over. We phoned my sister and her boyfriend to get the details (my sister’s boyfriend surprised us all by how perfect his timing was and how smoothly he did it. It sounded like a beautiful proposal.) Then my mom and dad started phoning family and friends to get the news out. My parents were overjoyed. I was very happy too, but again there was that shadow, that feeling of being left out, left behind.

I had to go back home then and I had a long journey. The trains were disrupted so I had two changes to make, including a walk to another station, then my final train was delayed, arriving late, then sitting in the station for ages as they couldn’t find the driver (!!) And then, driver located, sitting even longer due to signalling problems. We finally set off about 45 minutes after timetable and the journey was long. I got into my city at 9pm, bored, fed up and thoroughly exhausted. I picked up fast food and then scarfed half of it huddled on a seat in the station, then booked a taxi home. I was so glad when I finally got home, just before 10pm. I know public transport is safer, but next time I need to go home I am driving. I feel like I spent the majority of my weekend travelling rather than with my family and cat, and it was very costly to use the trains too. Anyway, I tried to sleep but couldn’t and woke up late and thoroughly unmotivated to go to work.

I admit to maybe a schmidge of jealously – my sisters life is panning out so differently and so much better than my own. Again, that dark shadow, that feeling of being left behind.

But it’s mostly the loss that gets me. My big sister has a life all of her own now, has for a while really, and a huge part of that is separate from me. I know it’s normal and I try to accept it but I miss her. We have always been close. And I have always needed her. But more and more as the years pass I am having to learn to live without her, without her support, without her propping me up. I realise, too late, how dependent I am on her. I don’t want to be needy and annoying but I realise, too late, that I can’t help it. She is my everything. Now she is engaged and I am so happy for her, because she has wanted that for years and I am so happy she found someone nice who makes her happy and whom she wants to spend the rest of her life with. But I am also sad and filled with a complex sense of loss. It’s been a long time since we were children and so much has changed. I have found adulthood difficult and I am feeling so very untethered with my family far away – all of them , my parents, my sister, living in the same area but me in another city – and so…left out. I wish I could talk to my sister about it, I long for her reassurance, but I don’t want to rain on her parade, so I keep it to myself, I will keep it to myself. Like so many other things, honestly. Its very strange being so close to my family, but yet so far.

The One With Christmas

Christmas has been strange this year. My father is in South Africa right now which left my mom, my sister, my sister’s cat and myself to celebrate by ourselves.

I finished up work for the year on the 20th, and on the 21st I spent a lazy day in my flat doing far less chores than I should have. The next day I went into town to meet my mom, who I had managed to persuade to come visit me to help me clean up the flat for the new year, and keep me company on the drive back to my parents house. My mom and I spent several hours shopping, then went back to the flat to clean and organise. Sunday, more cleaning and organising before a (thankfully) uneventful drive back. There were a lot of cars on the road but fortunately no traffic and we made good time. (I still can’t quite get used to motorway driving, feel nervy and on edge, so my mom was welcome company.) We needed a few more food items for Christmas, so we stopped at the supermarket on the way, which maybe we shouldn’t have done as it was heaving with people. We ended up queuing down the aisle for a till. It can’t be much fun to be working in retail at this time of year.

Once we had our items we could finish our journey home. The next day was lazy, spent waiting for my sister (and cat) to arrive. Finally, Christmas day itself was much better than expected. We opened presents, then my mom made lunch and I made dessert. My mom put in a lot of effort to get everything right; my dad usually does the cooking on Christmas day. Lunch was delicious and overly filling, as it should be, and we had to squeeze pudding into our pudding stomaches, which is also how it should be. (I successfully made an apple crumble, a simple but effective dessert.) After lunch we all just relaxed and boxing day was much the same. I have not left the house, have been living in my pajamas, and have eaten far too much chocolate and biscuits. Am still doing so, if I’m honest. It’s been nice. There has been minimal arguing and we even spent some time playing games with each other without it ending in bloodshed. My dad meanwhile has had a great Christmas with his mom and siblings. I feel happy that he managed to do that, and happy with how Christmas turned out here, but I did miss him and I worry he will worry that we had a better Christmas without him.

My dad comes home tonight and we will have a mini Christmas again, giving him his presents and receiving ours from our family. I’m excited to see him.

The days are somewhat blending into each other, time ceasing to matter so much when you have nothing to do and nowhere to go, but I am faintly aware that the end of the year is approaching and with it, the return to work. I am not sure how I feel about either. This year has been terrible, with my anxiety still awful and the added bonus of the return of my depression. A lot has been happening this year, especially in work, and it’s been tough. I know that the new year is no magic switch, but I wish for a 360 change. One moment everything bad, but then suddenly! The year changes to 2019 and everything is better. There is also a big part of me that wants to stay frozen where I am, in my parents house, being looked after by my mom, living in my pajamas, not leaving the house and having no responsibilities. I know this is childish.

I hope you all had a pleasant Christmas if you celebrate, or a pleasant winter break otherwise.

PS. I renewed my domain for another two years today. I was contemplating not, but I still like my little blog and am willing to see how far I’ll take it (I am definitely past the “10 years blogging” mark, so basically myself and my blog are a bit of a dinosaur by this point. Oh well. This has always been my random little corner of the internet and that is how it shall continue on.)

The One Where I Continue to Fail at Not Spending

I’ve been hibernating inside all day because the weather is just vile right now – icy cold and spitting with rain. I have spent most of the day in bed under a huge pile of blankets with the heating on, trying to stay warm. And I have been reading. Pretty much finished an entire book today. It’s been a long time since that happened, I just don’t read like I used to, and I often find myself picking things up and putting things down again. But I started the Jackson Brodie series by Kate Atkinson the other week and I am completely immersed in it. They are slightly odd books and a little improbable, but clever and interesting and with a dark sense of humour.

(I will add though that I did do some good deep cleaning today, in preparation for the new year. I started in on my living room, and in particular I took all the books from my bookshelves and dusted said bookshelves and rearranged all my books as well as the pictures, art and knick knacks I have. (I’m not one for minimalism. Bring on the knick knacks.) But anyway – I remembered working in the bookshop, hours spent rearranging books, how peaceful and enjoyable it was. There was nothing better than those days when the shelves were half empty and we had a huge chunk of books to go out and it was down to me to bring them down and set them out. I can happily spend hours sorting books – making sure they are in the right order, alphabetically, making sure all the spines align, that the shelves are balanced out, spreading the books evenly across the entire set of shelves instead of cramming them in on one shelf and leaving others with hollow spaces. I almost felt a little annoyed seeing customers come and mess up my alignment, my spacing, put books back wherever instead of in the exactly right alphabetic position (ma before mc there is a difference) anyway. I had some chill music playing and my Christmas lights on and afterwards I felt so very relaxed. If only I had a constant input of new stock to be sorting and shelving. I sometimes miss volunteering at the bookshop. )

I realised I never posted my November spending recap , even though I did write it. So I thought I’d post it now. I’m not sure anyone wants to read these or why I am still writing them, I guess I’m trying to hold myself accountable.

It’s proving very difficult to reign my bad spending habits in.

So.

Things I spent money on in November:

– Food – supermarkets, fast food and takeout. Starbucks. Only had takeout once though – trying to resist! Also didn’t have my food box this month – thinking of cancelling it to streamline this category more. Let’s still avoid talking about my love of chicken mcnuggets and chocolate when stressed and/or hormonal.
– Plastic plant pots and trays. Wanted to propagate my schefflera plant. These weren’t expensive.
– Christmas Presents. These really added up, but I’ve done most of my Xmas shopping now so finances can breathe a bit in December.
– Two new work skirts. My current work skirt, that I wear everyday, has a giant irreparable hole so I needed a new one. I had a voucher for a particular shop so went there, saw two skirts I liked, couldn’t decide between them, and so got both in the end. These will get a lot of wear though. And because of my voucher I got some money off.
– A cushion. As in a couch cushion. It was very on sale so I got it. It is awesome and I’m so glad I could get it on sale, as I really wanted it, but the full price was too much for what it is.
– Audible Membership. But no books! ‘Shopped’ my bookshelf instead.
– DIY thing. I needed some plastic spacers.
– Floor cleaner.
– Rent and Bills.
– Car – Petrol.
– Two DVDs and a CD. Desperately wanted the new VIX live DVD and to watch The Sinner. Pretty expensive though :(
– Makeup I don’t need (oops). I put in a big Revolution order on a whim. This is my one “I was feeling emotional….” purchase and although I’m pleased it’s just one, I’m still annoyed with myself about it. Not necessary!
– Skincare and makeup actually need / had been thinking about for some time. Needed a replacement for my cleanser which had run out, wanted to try out the Missha glow me range and the Etude House double lasting serum foundation. These makeup items had been on my mind for a while, and I do use base items a lot so I give myself a pass on these.
– A new skirt and trainers. This wasn’t impulsive but it wasn’t really necessary either :/
– Doctor and Therapy appointments and medication

I tried super hard last month to a) avoid impulsive shopping, b) think through my purchases “do I need this, or do I want it?” And c) say no to myself. Sometimes I was more successful than others. I think I’m allowed some things I just “want” rather than need, but not everything. I am further trying to identify why I want things, and if I will genuinely use it and love it. Versus: I want this because I’m feeling sad…. I get emotional, I get bored, I’ve been Christmas shopping so I’ve been on websites which are advertising amazing sales and limited edition Christmas sets and it’s been hard. Especially the bit about the sales. This is a terrible time of year to try and restrict spending. Still, I only had one really impulsive purchase and another which was a bit questionable. I’m still spending too much on food, which sucks, because to address that would mean addressing my complicated disordered eating habits. :/

Some other things I have noticed last month: this one was very weird, but I realized I tend to be very weak when it comes to cotton clothing. As I’ve mentioned before I can’t wear most synthetic materials and my wardrobe is primarily cotton. I realized last month that sometimes I want to buy things just because they are cotton and I’m worried I’ll never have the chance to buy that item again in cotton. Which is crazy as there are only a few items where this worry would have a genuine basis (see: my work skirts. Another reason I got them both was because they were both cotton and finding nice thick cotton work appropriate skirts can be hard) Still, I have a whole wardrobe full of cotton so clearly, the situation is not so dire. Recognising this behaviour was embarrassing but also really great – I sent back one top I’d bought because I realized I was hoarding it for this reason (“it’s such a soft cotton I best hang on to it!”) and stopped myself from buying some others. It felt good to recognise this and stop myself from giving into it. I’m going to keep this in mind now when I’m shopping “am I buying this because I genuinely need it, genuinely want and love it and will use it, or just because I feel “I might as well because it’s cotton”?”

Another thing I do sometimes, especially with Amazon purchases, is pay more for fast delivery. Not only is this worse for the environment but it’s not necessary! I need to learn to wait for my items.

Finally I am a sucker for limited edition and sales. I need to remember that something being limited edition or on sale is not a reason in itself to buy it! For the cushion, I wanted it originally so it being on sale was just a bonus. For my Revolution order, I found myself impulsively buying things in the sale, cos I was emotional and sifting through the site out of boredom. There is a difference right?

I have been trying to do better in December but my progress both right now and last month are proving…. extremely slow. This is quite hard.

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