Positive…

Last night I had the shivers and thought I was getting a cold. I did a lateral flow test this morning (Friday) and it was negative, so I went to work. Feeing tired all day, when I finally got home from work, I did another test. Positive…

All this time and I’ve managed to avoid catching Covid. I’ve seen literally tens of thousands of people in my time in the vaccination program. One guy even turned up in my vaccination pod with a positive LFT in a bag, asking if it was positive. I still didn’t catch it.

I caught it from my Princeling but we don’t know where he got it from. We have both seen people in the days leading up to first symptoms. I had seen my dear friend and adopted brother yesterday along with a few of his colleagues.

I’d spent all day at work with Covid. I’m horrified. I thought it wasn’t anything serious and I even tested negative this morning for gods sake. I’m so tired. Sat on the sofa, I’m going to have a nap soon.

After the above, I was completely wiped out for what felt like days. It was in fact the worst of it was less than 48 hours. I spent the whole of Saturday on the sofa, feeling like death. I’ve never been so sick in my life. I can’t imagine what it would have been like had I not been triple vaccinated. I’m sure I would have ended up in hospital. My dear friend and adopted brother’s mother has only just been discharged from hospital having been on a nebuliser for days after she caught it.

Sunday morning I felt somewhat better. I didn’t have the raging fever and intense brain fog anyway. Sat having my first coffee of the day, I look around and the house is truly disgusting. Much as it felt like it was because I was knocked out, it’s obvious that Covid isn’t the problem. I’ve been so wrapped up in my depression and grief, along with the constant financial stress, all I’ve wanted to do when I get home is fiddle around in my studio or go to bed. Ok, the laundry is being done, but clearly not much else. It’s not just the state of the house though. It’s the state of our LIFE. I’m getting nowhere with the finances. There simply isn’t enough for everything. I’m looking at doing a debt program with one of the many financial help charities. Enough is enough.

I need a clean slate on a few levels. Two years and five months after My Lady died, I’m still in fire fighting or survival mode. How do I break that cycle? Financially, we ARE still in survival mode. Having said that, what with the economy the way it is, I doubt I’m alone in that now. It’s no consolation though.

I spent the whole of Sunday finishing the rack build and cleaning the house. I felt fluey all day but not so bad I couldn’t get stuff done. I didn’t need to sleep every time I did something. The living room was still piled up from the rack build this morning. Eventually I got it all cleared down and deep cleaned everywhere. Right in the middle of polishing the table, I felt my heart flutter for no apparent reason. Once it started, it stayed. Then I remembered that I haven’t taken my antidepressants for two days. It’s the longest I’ve gone without in over two years of being on them. By the time I came around from the brain fog, I’d already run out. I can’t go to the pharmacy as I have Covid, and getting through to them on the phone is nigh on impossible at times. Fortunately this time, I got straight through and found an extremely helpful lady at the other end. They hadn’t received my prescription…

‘Oh shit.’ I thought. I remember all too well the emotional rollercoaster that changes in levels took me on. I’ll just have to deal with it then. I called my GP and they said the pharmacy should have it but they would order it right now anyway. That was yesterday. I paid for delivery and now I have them. Of course I took one straight away. I’ve felt that simmering feeling increasing for the last two days. I know what lies beneath, and all this time, it’s only been the antidepressants that have stopped horrific meltdown after horrific meltdown. I can still feel when they would have occurred but I’m in control for the most part.

After more work in the house, I finally hit a brick wall and had to lie down. I’m exhausted. Covid or not, I’ve done so much I deserve a nap, never mind a rest. Throughout everything I’ve described above, I’ve had the constant background screaming of my grief. “Inside I’m screaming.” Believe me, it’s a thing.

I don’t want to do everything any more. I can’t cope with the load. Mentally or literally. Now my Princeling is an adult, I don’t see why I should either.

So, days have gone by now. It’s Thursday and I’ve been spaced out on Covid all week. Tomorrow I’ll have had this damn thing a full week. It’s been improving over the last few days, however. My LFTs are barely showing positive at all now. On the last one I had to use my phone torch to see it at all so I’m nearly there. I haven’t left the house all week other than to empty the bin.

Having missed my vaccination shifts, we are stupidly poor now. As if we weren’t poor enough as it is. Hopefully things will pick up before long. The way things have gone, that seems unlikely. Why would I expect anything positive to happen to me?

Positive? I don’t see what’s so bloody positive about my life…

My antidepressant prescription arrived at the Pharmacy the day after my Epilepsy medication. I spoke to the same nice lady as before and she, angel that she is, dropped them off to me on her way home. For free. The relief was palpable.

It’s now Friday again and I feel a lot better this morning, aside from being a tiny bit bunged up, It’s pretty much gone. I’m just waiting for the LFT to come up negative now. One thing I have found notable is the lack of appetite. I’ve not even realised several times that I haven’t eaten a thing all day. Two pm yesterday was the first time I ate anything and it was nearly three today. No wonder I felt worse after a while.

I’ve still been tearing the house apart. I’m determined to get our life in order and the home is the best place to start. I’m done living in a skanky time bubble. It’s not healthy any more. Not that it ever was. If anything it’s dragging me down at a time I need to be as frosty and on it as ever. The living room is better than ever. I finally feel comfortable in it. Room by room I’m claiming my house back. My Princeling is just going to have to deal with another new me. I’m coming up with new routines for us to get into. Mr C needs more exercise for one. The first thing I do when I get home from work will be to take him out. No exceptions. Before bed every night, clear the kitchen down. All obvious things really but it shows how much things have slipped.

On top of everything, catching covid lost me a large chunk of money.

Living the dream…