Chapter 608 - Returning Times

When I told her this morning that Bert Newton had died at 83, she replied "He was a good age." I answered with something like "in a year and a half I'll be that old."

A few days ago I was Zooming with my friendly shrink when I mentioned Mindfulness exercises. After I described my less than ideal results during the past few years and my annoyance with Insight Timer whose simple complexity gives me a lot of trouble when I attempt to use it in the early hours while wearing a CPAP mask and scrambling to place glasses in front of my eyes trying to find a guided activity that may have helped me the night before. He has recommended Insight Timer to other clients. He suggested I take the Cognitive Behaviour Training (CBT) course available from a local source. I'm almost finished lesson Two. Although in recent times annual aged assessments at doctors probe the issues of depression, anxiety and stress (always asking about "self harm" and "harm to others" to which the natural response is NO) none of them have given me internal enlightenment as to my actual condition. Now CBT, so early in the course, has given me understanding of the exterior effects of depression. In recent times, and in particular this annus horribillus of 2021 (no, I was not one of the elite who took Latin, just that HRH once said that of one of her memorable years) I was able to tick off on one hand those activities I had once done regularly with some pleasure and sense of accomplishment, digitised embroidery, Lumosity, treadmilling while listening to lectures, genealogy and writing this blog regularly. All had ceased because of my endless tiredness (always there), lack of time (other things to do), too busy with other matters (must get these jobs out of the way) and this state of mind was overwhelming me. And as I realised this state of affairs was covering me in a state of fog I said Holy Shit I can do something about this! 

So yesterday I made space in our "front" room where I now sleep (that's another story) to set up the Husqvarna Designer 1  embroidery machine and my 2nd newest Surface Pro as an embroidery workstation to digitise and stitch a portrait of our brother-in-law who died a few months ago (now isn't that depressing?). I had begun to moth ball all such gear as possibly not to be used again by either myself or others after my demise. All such good gear will be shovelled off to land fill when I reach Bert Newton's state. Sordid thinking isn't it? Anyway, all the gear is set up and working, a quick and dirty job on the portrait induced me to remember where to find all the needed functions of software and hardware.

Today I prodded myself to write this blurb in between loads of washing, a repetitive religious activity best done on a sunny Sunday. And I'll catch up on her issues next time once I convince myself not to suffer greater depression while doing so. Shit happens.