Hands up all of you who remember this little gadget which was very popular when I was a child. I could never do tricks like loops and rolling it along the floor, but I could maintain the up and down motion for quite some time.
A bit like my life really (and everyone else’s come to think of it, I’m far from unique).
As a teenager and entering my early twenties, like most I had mood swings.
I would either be happy or feel down. There was no middle level, but for the majority, I was happy. The dreaded PMT wasn’t a factor either, so I couldn’t blame it on hormones or puberty.
I was probably annoying to my workmates, especially on a Monday morning when everyone else had a face as long as the working week ahead and I made a conscious point of not being like them.
However, being a constant smiler, even when things are going down the tubes, takes its toll, and I had my first bout of diagnosed depression arround 1978-79.
There was no cause for it really. We had a nice home, a car each, good jobs and money in the bank, but it meant nothing as I was tearful all the time.
In hindsight, I believe it was a combination of things, the arrival of a new niece, wanting a baby of my own, perhaps a little envy, but it was obviously something I couldn’t manage on my own without medical help.
I got over it though, and the happy side took precedence again, even through my divorce in 1981, a change in location and trying to find work.
The Big D came back with a vengeance in 1988.
I was a mess, on so many pills I’d look like a tube of smarties if you cut me open, but I had a good GP and a good boss.
It was a bad time for me, but I pulled it all together after a few months, and could see that I was the problem as I no longer fitted into the situation, and had no feelings for the guy I was with.
My Dad and Bro came to collect me that Friday in March 1989, loaded up the van with a few pieces of furniture including my Clavinova 7 electric piano, and with the dog of the time, I came home. Bro took us in until I could sort out a job and lodgings, and apart from a realisation shock on Sunday and a couple of tears at the enormity of what I’d done, I had no after effects or regrets.
Meeting Hubby was a blessing, and I have been my usual happy self since.
That is until recently.
My health issues are getting me down.
I’m OK with the diabetes, kind of at a stalemate with the weight, I could even tolerate the hot flushes. The blood pressure seems to have settled down, and I haven’t had a nosebleed for a week. My GP rang today as promised, and the blood tests are all fine.
I asked if I could see her as soon as possible as I am still tired all the time and now having serious problems with my knee, using two sticks to get around. Walking the dog is a definite NO-NO, and getting up to the car park takes me an absolute age. Painkillers aren’t working, neither is a cold pack.
It is already in my notes that I have arthritis in my knee, hip, feet, hands and back. I’m seeing her at 4pm having by-passed the receptionist.
The heat is also getting to me, as it is Hubby and the dog. We are all restless, overheating, tired, and irritable. Like my moods, there is no middle level.