Wednesday, 27 May 2015
Happiness is not always something that I feel. I have days when I don't realise how bad it has been until suddenly I feel this feeling. As I do today. And I feel happy. Not that I felt unhappy yesterday but I didn't feel happy like I do at the moment.
I don't know if it's because I had two complete days of no work at the weekend. I read, played on my gameboy and did colouring in. I supposed I allowed myself to be a bit like a child again. And I had some sleep.
Also yesterday I went for a run and did my exercises. I will do this three times this week, I only managed it twice the week before. So it could also be that, that adds to it.
And the sun is shining. That definitely helps. I feel warm. Not cold. Being cold makes me miserable. I hate that. And I don't feel fat today. That also helps. I took a photo of myself to post on twitter as I'm wearing my amazing cat jumper and thought. Looking quite thin actually! And took a photo of myself smiling. And thought. Looking ok today Katie. Looking ok.
I'm also in a national magazine. Basically the same article that was in the Sun on Sunday's magazine, Fabulous. But it still makes me feel good. And of course everyone on Twitter and Facebook is being nice about it.
I am partly writing this as I put a post on Facebook last week, it was a post floating around as part of a mental health week and I wrote a bit at the start of my post about me. About the fact that often I smile and say I am fine, ok, well, good. Because in many ways I am. But in some I am not. I had a fucking shit week with fatigue and it completely destroyed me. Very few actually realise this about me and the fine line I have to tread. I'm living at home at the moment and I think in all honesty it was a bit of a shock to my mother. To see how I really am when I am like that rather than a phone call to say I am tried before crying and then feeling a bit better and hanging up. Very few realise this fine line I tread every day, constantly making sure I don't do too much. Which I inevitably do. Because I'm 30. I want to be able to do things during the day AND the evening on only 8 hours sleep. But I can't. 8 hours sleep means I can just about do things during the day. 10 hours means I can just about managed day and evening but normally one or the other. 12 hours means I can do both, but then not the next day.
And then I feel fucking miserable.
I often smile when inside I just want to cry.