Ashamed

Posted on April 28, 2015

It’s been a long long time since I actually logged into glutenfreeself and blogged. I’m ashamed.

Surprised myself when I realised it’s been two and a half months. From a daily outpouring at its height, I’ve become slack – or busy – I’ll let you decide.

I toyed with abandoning the whole thing, but I’ve just spent 30 minutes skimming and scanning the blog posts and it can’t be abandoned. They chronicle the self absorbed descent into depression and mental illness and by their recent chronological paucity, perhaps some sort of rehabilitation, some recovery.

It’s a bit disconcerting actually to look back at the posts.

I’ve sort of recovered. I’ve left the scab to heal and despite odd urges to pick it, I don’t often, unless comatose on alcohol, which I bravely announced I was quitting this week (only on Facebook though – so does that count?)

So what’s occurred?

Well I turned 50 a few weeks ago and that was a lovely occasion: friends and ex pupils making epic road treks to meet up and celebrate. Loved every minute of the weekend.

And despite my deep misgivings about the gluten free buffet scheduled for me and my daughter, the food was good at the local hotel as was the cider, the gin, the Drambuie and the Amaretto.

The new business we set up (property) is developing nicely and I’ve found contentment in the new role – a world without bosses, politics and bullying. Makes a nice change. On a par, almost, with coeliac disease diagnosis – knowing the pains are about to leave for good. I know the new venture is a long haul and I aim to stick with it – going back to being employed rather than self employed, despite financial securities, feels a bit like risking cross contamination. You know you may be ill from those “Made in a factory … gluten” notices but you risk it. Or don’t?

Teaching made me ill, very ill. Or did it? Was it just that one school? Or is teaching, with its stresses and strains, an allergen which eventually made me implode or explode?

I’m not sure.

What I do know though for definite is I am 90% better now.

Still have off days, still have angry days, but they’re fewer.

I’m blessed I know to have the support of a fantastic wife, two children and a network of real and virtual friends – all of whom are making me 100% well.

I think I’m ready now to consign the past to the mental dustbin of history.

Thank fuck for that, I say, and you say.

Cheers – but don’t raise a glass to me – I can’t join in.

 


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