For those who want to really make an impression with their loved one they can now spend £2 on a card that says...

"will you marry me?"

What happened to grand and romantic gestures?

Having sat in the garage for 8yrs I decided it was unlikely that I'd ever look at my University notes again and so threw them out when I moved.  I kinda thought I should just keep them as proof.  Evidence of the work and associated angst.  But then I didn't want to fill up my new loft either. 

Clearing out my cupboards I've come across my university text books, with gripping titles like "The trouble with Sociology", "The population of Geography" and "Effective Teaching" and I'm now in a quandry.  

Chances of me ever reading them?  More chance of winning the lottery, (I don't play!?)  So why is it so hard to throw  away (or at least give to a charity shop to hoard instead) the last symbols of my study days?

the demons and doubts can try, but for today at least, they were defeated.

As I was driving into work my logic was telling me I shouldn't be.  My back was screaming blue murder and my head was pounding.  But I'd made a commitment to be there for a meeting.  On arrival I did at least conceded and ask my colleague to minute it.  But by the time I'd tried to eat some lunch the panic had set in.  It took a colleague to sit with me to make it painfully clear that I shouldn't be in.  If I hadn't promised to drive straight home I think he would have kidnapped me forecably home.  Reason took over and I complied with the order.

But it was Wednesday evening and so I kept to my promise for a ride round the block.  My back still protested but by the end of it, my soul had been restored. 

M has promised that if ever I hit rock bottom, she will ensure that my recovery involves being with the horses.

Wednesday was as bad as it gets and as bad as I want it to get.  So after much due consideration, unsuccessful attempts to manage the situation myself and an unhealthy dose of denial I finally went to the doctors Thursday and got signed off for two weeks.  I think he would have done it for longer if I'd asked, but step by step.

I've never been signed off before.  It was a very difficult thing to do. To .....??? admit I can't cope?  to seek help and recognition?  to accept that the world wont stop just because I'm not at work?  to accept help and support from my friends and family?   

That was, however, the easy part of the day.  Nothing compared to an interview with OH.  It's too uncomfortable typing at present, so all I shall say is that is was the closest thing to being cross-examined in a court room i can imagine.  It was established that I can;t financially affort to go part time, that if I have persistent absence I could lose my job and that compromise is required on both sides.  I did explain that if I reduced my social life and the things that make life worth living much more then there wouldn't be anything worth living for!  One of the questions was "can you get dressed unaided and without discomfort".  I suffer from chronic pain.  There is little that I do that doesn't involve a degree of discomfort depending on whether having a good or bad day!  That's what chronic pain is. 

I know it is all part of the formal process and the end goal is to get me working in a sustained manner that both me and my employer are comfortable with.  My goal IS to return to normal.  I have continued to work all these years and I intend to do so in the future.  Just need to redress it a little and get over this crisis which for once is proving to be more stubborn to overcome.

The shittiest thing is that it's the Brighton Rueda Congress this weekend and instead of being out partying, I've acknowledged I am far too ill to even attempt it.  And so I've dropped my house guest and friend off and returned home.  Today, my FMS is controlling my life.  And it sucks.     

I've started to rank the level of pain 1 to 10. It helps to put a perspective on it and to try and acknowledge what I need to do.  Today is 9. 

9 is bad.  9 is frightening.  9 is on the point of being unable to cope.  9 is when the panic starts to really kick in.  And I recognise it is panic.  That I've hit 9 and that's my limit.  That I can't take much more.  That little seems to aleive it.  But I've tried to rationalise today and I don't think it get's to 10. 

I have to hold onto that and remember that 9 will not last either.  This is just a blip.  A ****ing long and unbareable blip, but blip all the same.   This is not my life full stop.  It is just my life today.  I have to keep talking to myself and reason.  It will pass.  And I will get back to manageable figures.  But typing isnt helping so I must recognise that right now.

...of a weekend.  Total rest Friday was the right thing to do, although rather soul destroying.  However, it provided sufficient restbite and restoration to do two classes on Saturday afternoon and a couple of hours chilling on the beach with H and YMF.   It was good to be up and out and to see everyone, albeit very emotional - a general theme this past week. My absence had been noted and I was overwhelmed by the concern and support given by everyone. 

YMF was left to his own devices and a front door key so he could come and go as he pleased.  Bit weird having a house guest and then effectively leaving them to it.  But he was great and at least I didn't restrict his weekend. 

Saturday evening was the Gala dinner and a fabulous Indonesia buffet -case of eyes-bigger-than-the-belly!  Then on to the main party.  I went with the premise I'd see how I felt and go when had enough, but with a little pacing and a great atmosphere I manage to stay the course.  I'd accepted that it might wipe me out Sunday but that it would be worth it.  There is nothing like connecting with someone in a good dance, the adrenalin and endorphines generated, and the contagious energy and atmosphere that a good night has.  It was great to dance with YMF and to see him out doing what he does so well - ironically there was a little envy on my part on occassion when he was clearly enjoying himself?!   Hmmmm?!?

There's no rhym or reason to my back as despite the anticipation, it was relatively well behaved Sunday, although I didn't push it and spent most of the day sitting in the sun on the beach once more.

YMF has now departed and it was an emotional send off. So much I wanted to say but unable to without breaking.  Lots of talking this weekend and hopefully we can move forward from here.  Time will tell.