Last year, or maybe the end of 2014, I wrote about how I had been feeling like an unbuilt, boxed, Ikea wardrobe: Flat.
As the year has passed I have recalled on many an occasion being told that it would likely take me a year, minimum, to get my health back. I also recall my disbelief at hearing this. So certain was I that in my case, this would be a massive over exaggeration. It was not.
Mostly I have felt that I am progressing in the right direction. Getting to the bottom of what has been causing my health issues has been like playing a solo game of pass the parcel. Or peeling an onion, a strong onion that stimulates the lacrimal glands.
I have been fairly positive. Occasionally Mr Ikea has returned with something small like a bed side table, and a Swedish pancake, but nothing that I haven’t been able erect and remove fairly quickly. Until the past couple of weeks. At first it’s not always easy to spot an unbuilt queen size bed and double wardrobe being subtly pushed into you living space. It can happen so gradually that the lack of energy and motivation just seem to be part of life. And then one day you realise that not only has Ikea delivered, but that you have been hauling this unwanted monstrosity around on your back for what seems like an eternity. Looking for a screwdriver doesn’t really help. And even if I had had the energy, I lacked the inclination to fathom a set of instructions that seemed meaningless.
My recent encounter with the blues, lacked a saxophone or a singer. When I am like this I find myself withdrawing into myself, lacking the need or desire to interact with anyone. It is such hard work. It’s like sitting in a theatre watching a play that is interesting enough to capture you, but not stimulating enough to make you want to show any appreciation. And yet you do appreciate it. You just cannot quite muster up the energy to show it.
I swing between beating myself for not meeting my own expectations and quite frankly, not caring, which leads to self torment on a grand scale.
Its a little reminder that I still have a way to go, Hopefully not far. Because learning to take each day as it comes in side a flat pack emporium is sometimes not second nature for a control freak. And definitely not for someone who doesn’t like meatballs or large shops with one way systems (although theoretically the latter should appeal to my need for routine, structure and control!).
And just as gradually as it appeared, the dark clouds begin to move a little and the sun is starting to appear. The Ikea wardrobe has been sent back and soon I hope, so will the queen sized bed. In the meantime I have a hammer and some raw plugs., and I’m not afraid to use them.