I've got Aquafit after lunch today, my third visit to the pool this week. I've decided, or rather my body has decided, that four bouts of 45-60 minutes exercise a week is the way forward. A problem I felt last week though is that everyone seems to want the best spot in the pool. Funny that. I don't want to punch-kick someone or be punch-kicked. So today, in the interests of pushing my boundaries and remaining unbruised, I'm going to try the deep end. I've done some research and asked my questions and apparently you just have to engage your core a bit more. Well, I've got a core now so I'm going to ask for a bit of help getting the float you have to wear round your middle on. I've looked over at the handful of floaters in the deep end from my usual position and none of them seem to be flailing around or sinking to the bottom. There's always a lifeguard on duty too so I reckon I'll be ok.
I don't know if it's my increased physical activity or a temporary surge of brain power but after a slow start to my note learning, my brain seems to be assimilating a lot more information faster than it has for a long time. Maybe it's out of necessity and simply setting myself some targets. I've even almost got some pieces memorised, something I haven't managed for quite some time. It's very reassuring to realise I've still got it. A bit like Aquafit, it's about making myself go to the unknown side, which could translate as taking the sheet music away. That void feels quite terrifying but ultimately liberating.
I had three proper coffees today and no nap. At least, I planned not to nap, but straight after my third coffee I felt an overwhelming urge to sleep and I did. For almost two hours. I don't get that. How can I have a strong stimulant and sleep so solidly? Maybe it's a gift? I'm sure some people would love to have my slumber skills. Perhaps I'm just super relaxed at the moment? To be on the safe side, I've got an appointment with my GP for my MOT tomorrow. Needles, urgh.
I've never been a frequent visitor at the doctor's. I'm not a believer in throwing medication at a problem until it goes away, within reason. There are times though when it's the only option. In 2000 I became depressed. Faced with some seemingly insurmountable challenges arising from my work in South Africa coming to an end, and some repercussions from the death of my Dad the year before this, I was prescribed an anti depressant which I took for a year and a half. For 18 months I felt nothing much. Eventually I got fed up with the numbness and came off them and started to feel alive again. I haven't taken an anti depressant since. My state of nothingness probably gave me some sort of platform on which to stand, a base from where the only way was up and out, but the only thing I found that actually helped was talking with a carefully chosen objective professional who was emotionally distanced from my situation. I'd had a first wonderfully positive experience of therapy in Cape Town immediately after Dad's death in 1999. Thinking I was "normal" and didn't need to look at issues in my life (what issues?) I started a long journey of unravelling some complex stories I'd created for myself. Distraught isn't a strong enough word to describe how I felt about Dad's death. It was like losing a very strong, lively, funny, sensitive part of my self.
Daddy Cool
I LOVED that raccoon sweater
My first therapist Janet, a beautiful South African woman with smiling eyes, helped me start looking at the parts of me I didn't want to see and in the initial silent trauma following Dad's death, when my longing for him was unbearable, she hypnotised me which offered momentary solace to my distress which proved to be priceless. I still remember the warm feeling of being taken back to when I was a blissfully happy four year old, a feeling that helped me so much during the days of darkness that followed when I had to just put a brave face on and mimic being alive.
Cute
and irritating
So, back in Wales, jobless and living with my Mum, I resumed my therapeutic journey and followed an interesting path of experimentation. I was stuck in a rut. I was so grateful for my experience with Janet which offered an excellent barometer for who I could work with. One of the first UK counsellors I met took my Mum's side so she was ditched quite quickly. I found a counsellor I clicked with who instinctively gently pushed and challenged me, and I got back on my road to recovery. It led to a new and more satisfying phase in my working life, taking me back to the RNCM in Manchester as a mature student. I had this unquenchable thirst to perform and share my music. I still do, but as I get older it's getting a bit harder. I still feel I've got something to say from behind my harp. It's complicated and quite difficult to explain, and I'm still working it out. Like Aquafit, I might need to try another approach, a different unfamiliar part of the pool.
