Apparently, sometimes you just need to dance in the rain!
It’s been an… odd couple of months, mental health wise. I’ve been struggling and trying to deny it and back on my meds for three weeks now. I had the nightmare 10 days or so of riding out the waves of side-effects. Obviously, the meds aren’t fully functioning yet but I’m starting to see some admittedly small changes.
This week… this week has been very stressful at work.
Facilities me has been run off her feet sorting out the after effects of a fire in the warehouse.
Finance me has had some pretty epic yelling suppliers. There have been tears and there have been tantrums!
It all came to a head on Thursday afternoon. I snapped at a supplier on the phone, I hid in the loo and cried multiple times. I ate my weight in chocolate a few times over. I was… shall we actively fighting the urge to do something stupid. I mostly achieved it.
Throw in a hellish drive down to London on Friday (it took me 7 hours to drive 170 miles!) and the weather at the weekend and I almost said fuck it and didn’t go.
But I did.
Saturday, in an utterly shocking statement, I went to a Raintown gig. They were playing in Canada Square as part of Nashville meets London. Kicked the whole thing off which was AWESOME. It was slightly damp in the way that I was soaked through my pac-a-mac. I’d hit the point I was completely drenched, couldn’t physically get any wetter.
I just… I let go. I was singing my heart out, crying my eyes out, laughing, and just… yeah dancing in the rain. It was what I needed.