Just a little check-in, because a few people have been asking how things are going.
It’s been an odd week.
After starting the propranolol I’ve found myself absolutely exhausted. I’ve slept far more than usual and, honestly, some days have felt like my full-time job has been napping. At times it was frustrating because I wanted to be doing things, but my body clearly had other ideas.
The strange thing is that, underneath all that tiredness, I think something might actually be shifting.
I’m not suddenly “better”. I’m still not okay. I’m still taking things one day at a time, and there are plenty of moments where my anxiety reminds me it’s still very much here.
But for the first time in a while, I can genuinely say I feel hopeful.
Not fixed. Not cured. Just… hopeful.
Some of the constant dread I’ve been carrying around for months feels a little quieter. I’ve noticed small bits of energy returning. I’ve found myself thinking about the future again rather than simply trying to survive the present. And that’s a pretty big thing for me.
I had one of those classic anxiety moments this week when Mother announced she was coming over but wouldn’t tell me why. My brain, being the helpful little goblin that it is, immediately started preparing for every catastrophe imaginable. A couple of hours later, she arrived and announced that she just wanted to get out of the house because Dad was annoying her. Which, in fairness, is probably the most Mum reason imaginable. It was a good reminder that my head still tends to write horror stories, even when reality is usually much more ordinary.
This weekend I’m heading up to Birmingham to spend some time with one of my closest friends and his husband. As anyone who knows me well will know, I’ve already done the obligatory anxious “Are you sure it’s still okay for me to come over?” message. Apparently depression and anxiety don’t stop you worrying that you’ve somehow accidentally become a terrible house guest before you’ve even arrived!
Assuming I haven’t been secretly banned from the West Midlands, we’re hoping to get along to the Heart of England Leather social on Saturday, and I might even push myself to attend another event tomorrow evening too.
And honestly, that feels quite significant.
One of the things I’ve missed most while I’ve been struggling isn’t just going out, it’s feeling connected. I’ve missed friends. I’ve missed laughter. I’ve missed being part of the leather and fetish community that has given me so many happy memories over the years.
The gear is fun, of course. But it’s always been the people that mattered most to me.
Right now, I’m trying to allow myself to enjoy looking forward to things again without immediately convincing myself they’ll all go wrong. That’s easier said than done, but I’m trying.
So that’s where I am this week.
Still healing.
Still taking far too many naps.
Still a bit fragile.
But maybe — just maybe — starting to believe that things can get better.
And after the last few months, that’s enough for now. ❤️
Leave a Reply