Fair warning – my head is bouncing around like one of those high density rubber balls you used to get for 5p from the dispenser in shopping centres…. Just as an example, I’ve come up with 7 different titles for the blog: Hoisted by my own petard was a favourite, but I felt the title alone would send family & friends into a fit of panic.
So, shall we dance? One step forward, two steps back. Or was it two steps forward, one step back? Could be why I’ve never made it to “Strictly”. To be fair, I have the legs for it, but I’ve never really looked good in sequins. (Don’t say I didn’t warn you) Well, Strictly aside, welcome to depression.
It’s been a little under two years since I felt I had depression, 18 months since I sought help and a shade over a year since I fell over. In that time, even I can see I’ve come on leaps and bounds – well, more like trips & stumbles – but that doesn’t scan anywhere near as well.
Until recently, I thought I was doing fairly well. I seemed to be getting back on track, seemed to be regaining control of my mind, my feelings & my life, then suddenly, like the aforementioned baseball bat (amazingly posted a year ago – how time flies) something comes along and floors you.
Drifting back to last September, I undertook my last fundraising ride for CALM. It was an absolute (as my mum will read this, let’s just say) bitch. I struggled from start to finish. I watched my target time, then revised target time, then revision of the revision all sailing past me while I struggled on. Obviously I had the wrong clothing for the weather, the wrong breakfast, wrong calculations on time, the wrong gear ratios on the bike. I stuck to those excuses for quite while. I even found some more. (Out of interest, is anyone still reading? I keep going to do other stuff, so I’ve kind of lost track of who’s here)
Eventually, after needing to find excuses as to why I couldn’t walk up a hill, I went to see my long suffering Doc. (Incidentally, she needs a Dameship, or at the least a Blue Peter badge). She ultimately bundled me off to a bunch of people called the Cardiac Rapid Response Team – a splendid name, but to be fair it did take them 12 rings to answer the phone, so I may question the rapid part. So off I trot, and have a bunch of tests (the sole purpose of which seemed to be to strip small areas of my body of its perfectly good hair).
Last week, I returned to the splendidly named team to be told I have acute angina. Now, it’s lovely to have such a compliment, and far be it from me to question a medical profeshunal, but as a bloke, I’m pretty sure I have dangly bits and not an angina, but hey, they know best.
And now, (“finally” I hear you all shout), is my point… Depression is so screwed up!!
Obviously, I’m a tad worried about the procedure. Obviously, the old heart is apparently rather important as far a bodily functions go, but the consultant is a professional and does this kind of thing as often as I have meetings at work. The bit that’s thrown me, the bit that’s set back my recovery, the bit I’m struggling to pull back from is that this year, I won’t be able to do my rides for CALM. One step forward, two steps back.
Not my health, not the concerns of my family and friends (embarrassingly) – the fundraising. It was such a big part of my recovery last year. However, maybe it’s a good thing. Maybe looking after my physical health for a while is a good thing. Maybe I shouldn’t use the rides as a crutch.
I finished my last post with “I’m off now to start planning my CALM fundraising for 2017 – bigger and better!” Well, it seems maybe not. But maybe it’s not such a bad thing.
Maybe, it’s one step back and two steps forward…
As always, thanks go to to everyone that helps me. My family, friends, team at work, the support teams. Most of all though, the volunteers that give up their time from their lives to help complete strangers like me. Give them a thought too – they are outstanding.
One final, very special thank you goes out to my rock family. As always in times of trouble, they have rallied around to support me. I will be eternally grateful to them for their unwavering support.
And remember, Talk to someone and ask for help. There’s no shame in it and it will help.
Maybe speak soon