This week I went on an AMAZING course for work. I’d been to the same place a couple of times before, but this course was a bit more involved than the last one. It was about the new A level practicals in Science. I LOVED it!! Although I found being there – away from home for three days, with none of the normality of the evenings – very triggering.
I hadn’t expected that. Perhaps I thought the age range would be similar to the previous course I attended, with a lot of ‘younger’ people who would probably tend to go to the pub, the ‘older’ ones chilling out in or around the accommodation. But the course was mainly ‘older’ people (I’m sorry this sounds so insulting, but its hard to describe it any other way!) who had been to the centre before, and all wanted to go to the pub both evenings! I hadn’t been to the pub last time. In fact during the second residential (March 2014) I had just done dry January, and I wasn’t drinking during the week. And I didn’t break my resolution. A couple of the other women and I went to the (tiny) bar and I had a coke whilst they drank wine. It was fine.
So anyway, I stayed in my room in the evening. Maybe that was too antisocial, but I felt a bit of a pang for wine – going to the pub would have been tricky – plus the days were so full on, my head needed a rest. I needed to switch off, and not just by going to sleep.
I got back to school with such enthusiasm, which I do still have, but as soon as I got back I was informed that a new head of department has been appointed. Her job will comprise let’s say three roles, two of which she has never done before. I wont say too much, but I think they rushed into this. I mean the powers that be, not our department. And I worry about the future of the A level courses. Which are my favourite part of the job!! So I may have to put some feelers out in this summer term for a position elsewhere, where the A level isn’t under threat.
It doesn’t feel as though I’ve settled in at home yet, even though I got back a couple of days ago. Perhaps because my brain is working overtime with all this new information about work. The magnesium tablets are working, which I’m very happy about. In fact I’m probably happy because of it! And I’ve started to read the Joan Matthews Larson book about managing depression with nutrition. So yes, progress is being made. I feel I must write that because it’s a fact. Mustn’t overlook it, just because there’s no pink cloud. Things are normal. A normal amount of happiness, which is good, much better than before.
We have booked our trip to Paris too, which I’m really looking forward to. I know this sounds negative when I shouldn’t be negative, but the subject of money has come up in relation to this trip, and it just highlights my mine and my husbands differing attitudes towards money. Actually, a thought just struck me – I have to find a way of making that unimportant. Perhaps easier said than done, but I don’t want to spend the rest of my life worrying about our financial situation. Then again, surely one of us has to!!??
And there have been comments (from him) such as ‘oh, we wont be able to have champagne together in the evening, or have a glass of wine on the Eurostar’. Which is very subtly creating a ‘planning a relapse’ mindset. I think it was Sacha Scoblic who wrote about that in her book ‘Unwasted’. I think, don’t quote me. She used to think up fantasies in her mind, scenarios so bad that relapse would be excusable. Like the world being taken over by zombies, or something along those lines. I know a trip to Paris certainly doesn’t require drinking, but as we all know, its incredible what you can convince yourself of when you want to.
No, I want to reach one year. If I’m honest, I don’t really want to give up at this point, just because I think (or my husband thinks) it might be nice to have a drink or few on holiday. And I did just read Unpickled’s post on her trip to Italy. But it’s there. Even after all this time, I’ve got that feeling of having done enough – as in, ‘surely it’s time this whole thing was over by now’, and ‘it’s worse now, because I never go out and see anyone, because we always used to meet friends in pubs’. Definitely have to watch out for that. I can see now why 9 months can be such a danger zone as well as 7 and 8. When these thoughts start to pop up, I think about what would really happen if I had a glass of wine. Once I remind myself that it’s really just a headache in liquid form, dehydration in a glass, anxiety in a bottle, I’m alright. That couldn’t make anything better. Probably not fleeing a zombie apocalypse, and definitely not Paris in the spring. Non merci!