Life is what you make it...

I had a counselling session this morning. I've been a bit wobbly for the last three weeks. The cause has come from many sources, all completely unrelated, but have, as a combination, resulted in the weepy Alison returning. Some of the worries are all sorted. Some are ongoing and completely beyond my control. None are to do with my physical health. It was a surprise when my counsellor said I had done very well, as I felt the weepy me was not a success. However, she said I was doing well, I was still functioning normally, so I had done well in dealing with, what she acknowledged were, serious challenges to my equanimity.

I have been practising my mindfulness. This technique involves looking at a fear or a worry, with eyes open so to speak, and then choosing to think of something else consciously.

This has not been the answer to other areas that are concerning me related to my work. I was advised this morning to practise not allowing my feelings to hijack me. Our responses to the demands of others directly affect how we feel. It was suggested that when something very stressful happens, I should mentally create space for myself. Our lives have ebbs and flows, good days and bad days, good times and bad times. It is how we respond to the difficulties that colour our emotions and our psyche.
I need to worry less for others, I need to be much less hard on my self ( this one surprised me!).  I need to learn to take a mental deep breath, and give myself processing time.

It is when things are most stressful and most demanding that the space becomes more vital.

This week, my worries and fears and the demands that had been put on me completely stopped my creative thought processes. I was stuck in a brain made traffic jam. This was causing me to panic. There is a deadline, for which I require my creative thought processes so that I can meet expectations, and I could not begin to prepare to meet it. Yet, last night, I freed up. I dreamt the creative thoughts I need. It was such a relief. I did it by giving my mind the space and sleep I needed. Our minds are wonderful things. I now understand that it is my own responses that create the unhappiness. I cannot control all of them but I can definitely mitigate the effects.

Last week, massage, this week, mind space, maybe next week I'll remember to moisturise the itchy place on my leg...

Hair and tears...

My hair has been growing for three weeks now and my head is covered with down. My eyebrows are starting to grow back too. Now, when I shower, I have to gently pat my head dry so I don't damage the baby hair.

I'm told that this baby hair will be replaced in time by proper hair. To properly care for my new hair I quickly realised that the hair care implements from before, would not do. I have those brushes with plastic spikes for blowdrying, these would simply cut my scalp to ribbons.
So yesterday, I went and bought some more suitable hair care tools.

Aren't they lovely! The brush is really soft and is gentle on fluff and scalp. The comb will need to wait until the hair has enough length to lie down.

I have often said how much I appreciate Mr G. I would certainly have struggled to cope on my own. Ever since I first became ill, remember this saga began on 7th January, he has supported me, held me, hugged me and cared for me. He has been very tired recently with the pressures of end of year work in a large and busy school technology department as well as looking after me. Things came to a head this morning. The house has suffered with me in the dark side and Mr G tired out from work. We started straightening up this morning and exchanged some uncharacteristically sharp words over the jobs. The upshot was that poor Mr G went into meltdown. I have rarely seen anyone sob so hard. This of course set me off and we huddled on the stairs weeping in each others arms. It really brought it home to me what an immense burden cancer puts on everyone involved in it. As Mr G so rightly says, there seems no end to it all. Although my treatment ends soon with my final chemo, this does not remove the spectre of cancer from our lives. We still have to live with it day in, day out. We have to learn to live in spite of it. None of this has been helped with my Local Authority sending me letters saying that my sick pay was being halved next month because I 'am unable' to return to work! I can't work , work is closed!! I have sent in my Fit to work certificate. Fortunately our School Bursar is not a jobsworth and is going to sort it out for me during her school holiday. Mr G knows I am blogging about this. We are fine, if tired from the meltdown. Mr G had internalised all his pain and worry for months and months, I'm not surprised he crashed. We will continue to love and care for each other like we always do.
We are strong, cancer won't break us.