Mental Health Mondays – 4. Living with anxiety

I often wake up with a rock in my stomach. A solid, heavy rock. Sometimes it feels that it’s spinning, other times it’s pulling me down. Occasionally it makes me dizzy or nauseous. Some days it feels bigger, some days I can barely feel it, but it’s still there. That’s how anxiety manifests on me.

I don’t remember when I started struggling with anxiety. I suspect I always had it, since I was a child, I just didn’t know what it was. I was always a worrier. I remember worrying every time an inspector came to school to check us for lice in case I had any and got embarrased in front of the whole school, or whether my skirt was caught in my underwear (this still worries me!). As I grew older, my concerns took various forms and combined with a few traumatic experiences e.g. my ex stalking me for a year or so, emotional abuse etc, I reached a point I couldn’t handle it more than once.

Only in the last few years I manage to cope more efficiently. I just cope, it doesn’t really go away. But even to the day, every now and then it gets out of hand. Only a year ago, I was so stressed I lost my appetite and that gave me sever stomachache. It physically hurt to eat anything. After that, I promised myself I wouldn’t let it reach to that level again.

It can still happen, I know that, but at least I can handle it better. Yoga, running, my guitar, writing, travelling, spending time with loved ones and a lot of me time help me the most.

I’ve written about anxiety many a time:

Heatwaves, pandemic, anxiety and here I am, stuck in the middle.

Lockdown fever (why lockdown needs to end asap)

How anxiety feels like…

Following my dreams (just need to find out what they are) Chapter 2: Cyprus

(check my page for more) and I’ve been chatting about it with strangers, colleagues, friends, and loved ones for years. I don’t think I’ll ever stop!

Although I had a great week, going to the vegetable and fruit market after many many years, a day at the beach, a few days in Berlin (minus the cruel flight times and the extreme heatwave), the halloumi and anari workshop, and relaxing at the swimming pool afterwards, my anxiety levels have been off the roof as my to-do list grows longer and longer!

Anxiety hits you in many shapes and forms. For me it’s psychosomatic, it gives me headaches and stomachaches and occasionally panic attacks (and insomnia), for others it’s heart arrythmia, blurry vision, nightmares, compulsive eating. Anxiety is a beast, it can cause or aggravate other disorders e.g. OCD and depression and it’s quite common.

According to a 2018 OECD (Organisation for Economic Co-Operation and Development) report, “The most common mental disorder across EU countries is anxiety disorder, with an estimated 25 million people (or 5.4% of the population) living with anxiety disorders, followed by depressive disorders, which affect over 21 million people (or 4.5% of the population)”.

And based on a World of Health Organisation (WHO) report,In the first year of the COVID-19 pandemic, global prevalence of anxiety and depression increased by a massive 25%”.

So, let’s talk about it, learn how to recognise anxiety signs and symptoms on ourselves and others and help each other. How do you experience anxiety?

Eleni

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Why don’t we talk about mental health in Cyprus?

It often comes to my mind, that, when I was in high school, I’d regularly get upset about the fact I couldn’t accurately, and in the way I truly wished, articulate my thoughts and opinions when writing essays. There was always a barrier. There was always something missing.

Years later, when I started putting my thoughts on paper (and later on a blog) it somehow became easier, as if I was released from whatever kept my expressive side blocked and silenced. And I feel that’s how talking about mental health evolved over the years not just for me, but for the rest of the world too.

Although I studied psychology for my first degree, even then, about 18 years ago (I’m almost 36, to save you from the trouble of calculating my age), there was a stigma about it. Not many (if any) would openly admit they suffered from depression, or anxiety, or autism, or bipolar disorder, or panic attacks, as it was considered a weakness or pure ‘insanity’. You would only see a psychologist if you were ‘crazy’.

After living in the UK for 10 years, having volunteered for a mental charity, having written about depression and anxiety myself, seeing, listening and reading about people openly sharing their feelings and troubles, witnessing mental health organisations growing in numbers and popularity (NGOs such as the Samaritans or Mind or social enterprises like the brilliant Touch I used to volunteer for) I was under the impression things would have progressed in Cyprus too, not to the degree they did in the UK, but certainly to some extent.

Surely by now people would have realised that is as important (if not more) to look after their mental health the way they look after their physical health. If you break your leg, you’d go to the doctor, if you are paralysed from anxiety, you’d go to a psychologist, right? Not to mention the effects of the digital era, as well as the global pandemic on mental health, and the fact that we are all busy, all the time. One day we’ll reach to a point we’ll have no time to breathe (just writing about it stresses me out) .

A few days ago, whilst enjoying a coffee on my own at a local cafe, I was brainstorming ideas on what organisation I can volunteer for, and I was unpleasantly surprised to discover after looking up mental health NGOs to volunteer that there aren’t really any on the island!

Why is that? Is it because there’s still stigma around mental health here? Are people here still in denial about the importance of looking after your mental wellbeing? Are they scared to admit when they are struggling? Do they still perceive sharing your feelings as a weakness (it’s one of the hardest things to do actually and it shows strength and character, a brilliant example of the power of vulnerability as Bene Brown eloquently talked about it a few years ago https://youtu.be/iCvmsMzlF7o) ? Is it because there isn’t enough interest by locals or psychologists?

I have been talking about it with a few friends and colleagues lately and I’m still baffled why that is and I wish I had the means to set up a mental health NGO myself, just to make a start.

For now I can’t, but what I can do is continue to talk about mental health with friends, family and strangers, because every time I do, someone would relate to and share their own experiences (which I love to hear about, everyday human stories are so powerful in so many ways) and that’s a clear sign that any outlets to talk about mental health struggles with others in a safe, non-judgmental environment, where you can also receive relevant advice and/or training on how to identify signs or symptoms of a person suffering would be of great benefit.

Who knows, maybe we can soon start a movement and change things up on the island, at least when it comes to mental health!

Namaste

Eleni

Blogmas day 9- The Christmas Tree

Oh the Christmas tree…

How much prettier and cosier it transforms the living room into, in an instant. I wish I could keep it up all year around.

I love the Christmas tree and everything that comes with it. The decorations, the lights, the unique ornaments, the gifts under it.

After I moved on my own, for the last three years I’ve decorated the tree with my bestie, Shebs who unfortunately is not around this time so my lovely friend Sukes offered to come and help. 

I couldn’t wait since the tree arrived on Friday. Since I now live in a much larger flat I couldn’t not get a bigger and more grandiose tree.

So today as soon as I woke up I put one of my Christmas jumpers on -Olaf!- ,my favourite luxurious Santa hat and put on a Spotify Christmas list. 

We decorated, sang along to Christmas music and had tea and chocolate, a wonderful Sunday afternoon. 

We did a brilliant job, the tree looks amazing!  I need a few more decorations and a fluffy rug (which I just ordered) and then I won’t want to leave my living room ever again.

I’d love to get a real one at some point, I’m sure it will happen one day. But I’m pretty happy with this gorgeous one for now.

Eleni

Blogmas day 8- The Christmas Presents

New Year’s Eve, 1994

(that’s when Santa visits children in Greece and Cyprus, on the 1st of January, the name day of St Vasileios, ‘Αη Βασίλης’)

My sister Stella, a then naughty with short curly hair 5 year old and Ι, a stubborn 8 year old were eagerly waiting for my dad who popped outside to meet Santa Claus and get our presents. A year earlier we woke up and ran straight to the real Christmas tree we picked with mamma and papa a few weeks earlier and before we even saw our presents we knew Santa’s been because he ate the cookies and drank the glass of red wine we left for him next to the tree. Oh yeah, we treat Santa to wine in our household, and we are not the only ones in Cyprus who do that. But Santa is supernatural, he doesn’t get drunk with all that wine!

I can’t even remember what Santa Claus brought us either year, I just remember the joy and anticipation. 

Christmas is not about what’s become with all the commercialisation or the presents per se, it’ all about the joy and the kindness that should be celebrated every day, not just at Christmas or the International Kindness day but these little traditions add up to make Christmas… well magical.

I do my little bit helping others, donating, volunteering all year around and I sincerely hope everyone does, so once a year I may overdo it with treating myself and getting little treats for my near and dear ones. 

At this day and age most of us are lucky to afford to get things we really need, so every year I try to get something sentimental, unique and preferably handmade!

Today it’s all about a favourite Christmas tradition, wrapping Christmas gifts. After tidying up and dealing with the usual chores one must do every week (sigh), a bit of writing since I’m a day behind again, I had a lovely winter dinner, put a Christmas film on and I’ve wrapped most gifts. My wrapping skills are not the best I must admit, after the first couple I get impatient, but they turned out OK I guess…

I can’t wait to see everyone’s expression when they open them.

Now, time to decorate the Christmas tree!

Eleni

Blogmas day 7- Christmas shopping

Thank God for the weekend. I know, I’m a day behind. Again. 

Work’s been busy with Monday’s work deadline looming but I found some time yesterday at lunchtime for some Christmas shopping so I can today start wrapping!

I  was so tired I had to cancel my evening plans and came straight home carrying Christmas presents and a few treats for me including a huge luxury blanket.

When I arrived home, the Christmas tree was waiting outside my door, so tomorrow I can decorate with a help from a lovely friend.

Here’s some of the beautiful gifts I got (I had to hide some for obvious reasons!). I can’t wait to see everyone’s face when they open them!

Right, now I need to get off my sofa, tidy up, wrap some Christmas gifts and chill with Christmas films and chocolate. 

Eleni

Blogmas day 5- Christmas preparations

Yesterday I got an email from Easyjet. Check in for my flight back home on the 21st, which is LESS THAN THREE WEEKS, has now opened.

It suddenly hit me. I was excited and terrified in equal measure. Excited that I’m going home very soon, terrified I don’t have enough time to prepare for Christmas.

I still need to decorate my flat, I still have to get all the Christmas gifts for the family back home and a few special people here in Southampton and I have very few evenings free until the 21st. So what do I do?

PANIC! That was my immediate reaction.

OK, breathe.

First things first, I checked in. I don’t normally do it that early but I needed some cheering. And I got a window seat. At least something is going right.

Next up was sorting out the work Christmas lunch. I’ve been the unofficial Christmas do organiser for the last three years but this year felt like mission impossible.  Although I’ve been  Monica, super efficient, set up a Google survey with possible dates, restaurants and their Christmas menus (for some of which I contacted the restaurants and asked for a copy of their festive menus since they hadn’t published them then, I’m that efficient) but there was not a single date that most people could do. 

So, I lost my mojo once again. It happens often lately. 

But we finally agreed to do lunch on our last working day with whoever is around. Restaurant booked-this year we are going for a different option, a Phuket festive tapas menu at Mango, I can’t wait!- deposit finally paid today after an unsuccessful attempt over the phone yesterday and I arranged Secret Santa, sort of. As every year I put everyone’s name in a Santa hat and went around to see everyone.

How unlucky am I for my name to be left last in the Santa hat and for me to draw it? 

I set it up online instead and hoping it will work! 

Tonight is the only free night I have until the weekend, so after a much needed Yoga With Adriene session, it’s time for Christmas Friends (is the holiday Armadilloooo), digging out all the Christmas decorations in preparation for tomorrow when my 6 feet (1.80m for my Cypriot friends) arrives (I might have not this through, not sure it will fit anywhere in the living room) and some online Christmas shopping.

Phew! 

How are your preparations going? 

Merry-almost-Christmas!

Eleni

Blogmas day 1- Christmas Tree of Light in Woolston

Happy First of December!

Christmas is officially here. Well, I’ve been watching Christmas films and looking for Christmas gifts for weeks but now we finally reached December, I can fully embrace Christmas.

I’ve been contemplating whether to do Blogmas this year. I did it for the first time last year and it was great but became exhausting towards the end. But since I loved writing every day in the buildup to Christmas, I’ll give it a go.

So here it is. Day one. 

Saturday, 1st of December

I woke up early for a Saturday, but I finally felt rested, after a busy week. I had a coffee, replied to my messages, put the Christmas channel on and snuggled on the sofa.

I was tempted to stay at home watching Christmas films all day, since it’s been grim, and raining all morning, but one of the great charities I volunteer for, Communicare were to light their annual Tree of Light, for which you can sponsor a light in memory of loved ones and special causes and I offered to help out on the day.

So I got ready, I put my Christmas jumper on (first time this year!) and headed to Woolston for the very first time. A day of firsts…

I can’t believe I lived in Southampton for almost ten years and I’ve never been to Woolston before. I drove over the bridge, but I’ve never actually walked on it. 

As soon as I arrived bubbles and snow (artificial as I found out a second later) were falling on me. I didn’t expect that. For a moment it just felt magical.

After about half an hour admiring the views and a brief wander at the Woolston Christmas festival, I made it to St Mark’s Institute. I covered our stand briefly and then headed outside for the Tree of Light switch on and to hand out some leaflets. The Local Choir Rising stars sang beautiful Christmas carols and then the Mayor of Southampton councillor Barnes-Andrews switched the lights on. What a lovely ceremony.  

Everyone, grown ups and children singing along, enjoying the Christmas festivities, it was just wonderful. And I got to meet great humans once again. A district nurse working across Southampton, a lovely old lady running bereavement groups in Southampton and Fareham and a sweet, elder couple amongst others.

One of the highlights was seeing the lovely Bob I met at the Communicare Vintage and Craft fair who told me all about Woolston’s history, how the area has changed since Vosper Thornycroft, the war shipbuilding company closed down its shipyard at River Itchen. That’s why I love humans. I learn so much from others. Thank you Bob!

On my way back I stopped on the bridge to take a snap of the gorgeous water views. Breathtaking isn’t it?

A great start to December and Christmas. Now, time for another Christmas movie and some chocolate.

Eleni

July the 16th, the Tuesday before. Divine Intervention

Tuesday, 10th of July

Is it morning yet?

It was a beautiful, sunny morning but it all I could see still was grey.

I somehow make it to work.

I got an email from the agency, the flat I’ve seen yesterday wouldn’t be ready for the 16th and someone made an offer to rent it at the end of the month, when it would be available. My heart sank.

I’m feeling sick again.

What should I do? Should I go for one of the claustrophobic, depressing studio flats I’ve seen and get it over with? Should I just give up for now and move in with Jamie until I find a place?’What should I do??

I had a last look online and there it was, a one bed flat on the High Street I’ve seen on Rightmove before but it was over my budget. The price was now reduced, still overbudget but only by £35. It is available now and it looks pretty.

I call the estates agent to arrange a viewing, for today if possible. I explained my situation and she re-assured me that moving in less than a week is possible as the flat was vacant.

I could go see it in about an hour but I’m at work, I can’t just leave. The only time the agent could do was 1:15pm, but there would be someone else viewing it at the same time. Just my luck. But I’d still go. You never know.

From 9am until lunchtime I was a wreck. I tried really hard to concentrate and do some work but every now and then my mind would fall into despair and I all I wanted  to do is cry.

Divine Intervention

Suddenly I get a message from Dan, one of the very few people who can understand the way my mind works, the crazy spiral it goes into when I’m stressed. He was at the Uni early for our choir session so I meet him downstairs. He gives me a big hug and we have a chat.  Talking to him was the only thing that eased my mind for a while. 

Under other circumstances I would give the rehearsal a miss, I can’t concentrate to do anything, let along remember lyrics and harmonies, but our little surprise for Graduation is in three days, this one was going to be just for that and I wouldn’t have missed that for anything. After our session I ran. I ran to make it to my appointment on time.

I viewed the flat at the same time as an elder couple and their daughter, they came along with her, she seemed very shy, I guess that’s why she brought their parents.

I loved it from the first time I walked into the building. Spacious corridors with laminated floors, grandiose mirrors on each floor, freshly clean smell and the flat itself was spacious, more than enough for one, modern, it even had a large balcony I didn’t know about.

Do I like it ’cause it’s actually nice or because I’m desperate to move on the 16th and avoid the hassle of moving twice? I often wonder why and how I do things. Sometimes I can easily recognise that I do something I truly like, others  because of this innate need, which more than often leads to disappointment, to feel accepted, loved, important, wanted, safe.

This feels right though. I like it for the right reasons. I can see myself living happily here. It’s modern and big enough to have friends over, cosy autumn nights with a hot cuppa watching films or snuggled on my sofa reading a book, sunny mornings doing my yoga in the living room, sitting on the balcony people watching in the summer. 

This could be it, but don’t get too excited yet.

I asked the agent what would happen if we both liked the flat. It seems that the young shy girl and her parents liked it too.

-In that case, we’d take both offers to the landlady and she will choose.

-And if I make an offer and is accepted, is it possible to move in on Monday?

-It usually takes over a week, it’s probably not possible. If you like it, give the office a call, as I’m off for the rest of the day and they’ll talk things through.

My heart sank, again. So it probably won’t happen. I called the agency on my way back to work and left a message anyway. An hour went by and didn’t hear from them. I knew it was over. I ran to the toilet and had a cry.

I messaged Jamie if I could still move in his spare room. He fortunately left me a spare key- he was going on holiday today but he is so thoughtful he left me a key at work to use if needed.

Although I was sad things didn’t work out, I was relieved, I didn’t have to stress and desperately keep looking for a place to move in 6 days, my anxiety would be kept at bay, for now.

Divine intervention

I stayed at work late, since I had a long lunch break and around 17:30 I get a phone call, from the agency. In my rush earlier I didn’t leave my name on my message, they lady on the other end of the line told me. I can’t remember much. That’s what happens when I’m too anxious.

It took them hours to figure out who it was.

She told me that if I still wanted to, she could contact the landlady and put my offer forward and if all my references go through within the next 24 hours, I can move in on the 16th.

I couldn’t believe it! 

My battery was about to go and I sat at the park, at my favourite bench, patiently waiting for the agent to call me back and let me know if the landlady accepted my offer.

my favourite spot

After what felt like hours, but it was actually 10 minutes later my phone rings.

Yes, the landlady agreed!!! I may now have a home!

I stayed there, at the bench, staring at the sun, thanking my lucky stars for today. I then message Chris, Dan, Sheba and my little sister to tell them the good news. I wouldn’t have done it without them. I would have broken down into million pieces and felt so paralysed I wouldn’t have kept going. I can’t stop thinking how lucky I am to have such incredible, loving, caring friends and family.

The huge rock that was on my back, crushing my bones into the ground all this time was suddenly lifted. It’s not over yet, I still need the references to go through quickly, I know my manager will fill in the forms instantly but what about my current landlord?

To be continued…

 

Nothing stays the same and nothing changes… (part 1)

Tuesday morning

I just woke up. Where am I? I’ve been having dreams about a friend, the same friend for two or three nights and they never end well, I can’t understand why… what is my brain trying to tell me? I wake up confused.

Two days ago I was on our amazing One Sound show, singing with my colleagues in front of 700 people and the next day knackered having a Sunday coffee with a friend and then watching Beast at Harbour Lights, a film I’m still thinking about.

But now I’m in the summer PJs my mum got me (pink floral Good Vibes written on the top, very fitting), it feels warm, no it feels hot, I must have sweat a lot last night. I remember. I remember my long day of taxi, train, flight. I remember the airport guard looking for a specific guy on my flight but he never showed up, I remember watching Schindler’s List on the plane (why I thought it’d be a good time to do that I don’t know,de-press-ing), my sisters and my mum at the airport…

I’m at home… my other home, my first home…

It always feels weird the first day or two I’m back. No matter how often I may visit, I always get this ‘out of place’ feeling every time. As if I travelled for days and I’m  now on another planet, an utterly and completely different life that’s somehow very familiar.

I guess it is. I’m a different person here, but also the same. Does that make sense? I’m not sure it does but I have a feeling that expats will get it.

Every time I come home I remember the person I used to be before I left, how I changed over the years, how I grew up, how living in the UK has changed me, but somehow deep down I’m still the same little girl. Am I a different person here or just a different version of myself?

I guess I subconsciously adapt to the environment, different people, different culture, different weather. Different but familiar… A familiar environment, everything is familiar but not as familiar as it used to be. People here are more open, more affectionate. I forget how they stare, how they start a conversation with a stranger with such ease. And after a day or two I’m more open and ‘more’ of everything myself. The wonders of human nature. How easily we learn and adapt to a different way of living… especially when we lived it before in ‘another life’.

Why am I thinking all of this now? Maybe it’s because I didn’t have any time to think for the last week or two, maybe a walk at the beach and a coffee by the sea with friends will help…

I keep mumbling Bastille’s Pompeii… But if you close your eyes, does it almost feel like nothing changed at all? And if you close your eyes does it almost feel like you’ve been here before?

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Wednesday morning

Marios, the hairdresser remembers me and my friends in primary school. He remembers me playing my guitar… How? Why can’t I remember him? I wonder what my childhood friends are now doing… I later in the week discover that one of them is now a well known chef in Cyprus, Charalambos! I recognised him as soon as I saw him on TV. Last I remember of him was 10 year old us playing outside my grandma’s house. I have a picture of us on the school nativity play, he was Joseph and I was Holy Mary…

 

Later in the day…

I just got a message and a rainy snap from a friend back home. I sent him a snap of me in my summer attire. I finally escaped the longest winter, my longest winter in the UK. I smile… I’ve been chatting to two of my friends back… home all week. I don’t mind, I actually prefer it. I somehow don’t want to forget my ‘other’ life. It’s part of me.

I meet my little sister’s friends, her co-stars in the musical they’ve been working hard on for the last six months. I’ve heard so much about them and I can now put together faces and names. Although we just met they welcome me with such love and affection I find it moving and can’t stop smiling. They’ve heard a lot about me from my little sis and couldn’t wait for me to visit, and I’ve heard a lot about them, it feels as if we’ve already known each other for while. One of them wants to speak in English, he likes my ‘British’ accent. I giggle to myself. As much as I can try, I can never completely escape my ‘British’ self.

Later in the same day…

The three of us, again, like back in the day, in our uni years, having a drink and a cigarette, chatting, serious, deep conversations and bursting into hysterical laughs every now and then. No one would have ever guessed the turns, the ups and downs, the crazy, surreal almost things, people, events life threw at us. How we changed but we are somehow still the same.

Thursday morning

I can’t get out of bed. I’m exhausted. Ran out of energy. Completely. But I know today will be a long day. It’s the day of the show. That’s why I came home now and not summertime. I need to focus on that.

And stop thinking about what I’ll do when I’m back, decisions I need to make, what to focus on, what I can do to help the family here in case they need to move out in the near future. The condition of the flat is getting worse… the government is doing nothing. Maybe I can move in with a flatmate again so I can save and help my parents if needed? Although I hate it. Although I will worry whether they paid the bills, although I love and miss living on my own so much it hurts.

‘Do what is best for you. You are in your thirties, you work hard, you deserve to enjoy life, have your own place again. I’m sure everything will work out fine for us’ my mum said. I was about to cry but I didn’t. I knew that will set them off. I’m so blessed to have such an amazing pair for parents. They always put our happiness first. No matter what.

I feel guilt. I feel torn. What should I do? How do you make a decision like this? How do you make any important decision?

One of the reasons I need to go home every now and then (other than the sunshine) is to remember who I am, how much I’m loved, escape my troubles back home in the UK, reset and go back with a fresh mindset. But this time I find myself thinking of all the things I need to sort out most of the time. I can’t let it consume me…

A lyric from Vincent keeps playing in my mind…

Now I understand what you tried to say to me… how you suffered for your sanity…

Get ready, quickly, you only have an hour… Focus on the musical, focus on today, focus on the now. Please…

Eleni

Hanging… and reset

A dirty plate on the dressing table stool, an empty mug on the bedside table…

It’s almost 2pm, Saturday afternoon, I just had some toast and coffee and I’m back in bed.

What a bittersweet but wonderful day Friday was.

Lunch saying goodbye to Charlotte, one of the craziest, funniest, sweet, adorable ladies I’ve ever met (who introduced me to Yoga with Adriene, without a question the best thing that happened to me in 2017), followed by a big group of us at Tapas taking over two of their central tables, chatting, laughing, on a sunny Friday afternoon after work. I missed all of us going for drinks after work… It felt like a reunion, I loved looking around seeing everyone having a good time.

Sad to see friends and colleagues leaving but happy I got to know new people I’ve haven’t had the chance before, and end the evening with a cider and heart to heart conversations with my brother. I miss seeing him every day, having a laugh in the office, walking home together after work…

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Today I’m struggling though.

I didn’t drink much but a busy week at work, lack of sleep and not sticking to the same drink last night took its toll on me. I feel exhausted.

I can’t get out of bed, my body aches, my back is killing me. That’s what happens when I don’t do my yoga for a couple of days. My mind and body complain.

And the emotional hangover: at its worst. Scientists still cannot fully explain why anxiety and depression symptoms hit you in the face after drinking, imbalance of chemicals and nutrients in your body apparently. “At the cellular level, your brain is mad, agitated. And you just feel bad.” Susan Scholl, a health and wellness professor once stated. No shitting.

The thoughts were there I guess, the alcohol then decides to bring them up, exaggerate, go crazy and f**k you up.

The weather doesn’t help either. It feels like the longest winter of my time on earth… I miss the sun, the warmth, summer dresses and sandals, the feel of hot sand on my feet whilst running into the crystal clear cool water, red, sunburn face, beers and a cig at the beach at night, I miss summer…

I just got a voice message from Sheba, telling me about her day, chatting about everything and anything as we do every day. I love listening to her messages.

Today she is emotional. I’m emotional.

A lot to think about, a lot to do, but not today. Today I just want to stay in bed and not see anyone. The people I really want to see today and hug and have a laugh with are miles away.

That’s what I did, most of the day. A nice long shower, clean bedsheet and back to bed.

In the afternoon I message Artemis. She is coming to London in May, a mini break with one of my favourite people, at my birthday weekend. So, very excited. It’s been years since we did this. A holiday, just the two of us, wandering in London.

A couple of hours later… the little sister wants to Skype me. It’s almost time. It’s Easter weekend back home. The family is at the midnight Easter Service, they’ve just lit their candles with the Holy Light and the priest is about to sing the The Paschal troparion or Christos anesti, the Easter hymn every single person born and raised in Greece and Cyprus knows by heart. I just remembered, I posted a blog on Greek Orthodox Easter two years ago.

Χριστὸς ἀνέστη ἐκ νεκρῶν,
θανάτῳ θάνατον πατήσας,
καὶ τοῖς ἐν τοῖς μνήμασι,
ζωὴν χαρισάμενος.

Christ is risen from the dead,
Trampling down death by death,
And upon those in the tombs
Bestowing life.

I hum along. I wish them Christos Anesti (Jesus has risen) and we hang up. I’m emotional again. I can’t put in words how much I love them. I was telling Sheba about it on my message earlier. But I know if I start crying in front of them, they will. So I hold it in. For a moment I feel proud of myself for learning to control my feelings.

11pm. I just finished watching the Crown. I’ve learned a lot from this show, although today I didn’t pay attention, it was more of a background noise.

I want this day to end. I know I’ll be OK tomorrow, the emotional hangover will be over. Bedtime. I’ll finish this post tomorrow, I wonder how… I don’t even have a title. Inspiration has abandoned me today.

Sunday

I wake up and go back to sleep, wake up and go back to sleep.

Is my bedroom door open? Terrified. No, it can’t be. Is it? I turn the light on, it’s closed. It was a dream, a really bad dream, I get them a lot lately. Brain overloaded.

9:30am. I’m awake and can’t fall asleep again. I check my phone. Easter messages from friends and my family and a voice message from Shebs. Then my phone rings. Is my star sister, Stella. She usually calls without warning when she had an accident. But today she just wanted to wish me Happy Easter. We have a laugh, I can’t wait to see her in a couple of weeks.

Today I feel better. I’m not as emotional.

I put my Spotify on, Hunny is This What Adults Do, Lauran Hibberd…

I don’t want a stroll on a Sunday and I’m a sucker for unhappy Birthday… But all my darling friends, I don’t feel OK, ’cause they are all having bunnies or babies and I don’t want the same… (or I think that’s what she sings)…

I giggle.

I message Shebs back, I book a hotel for Artemis and myself and after I finish this post, it’s me time. How much I need it I can’t say.

I loved my week off, three amazing days in Bordeaux and a lovely weekend in London. I loved being on the go, packing, unpacking, exploring, wandering, catching up with loved ones.

I find it hard to adjust to ‘normal’ life but I need to. I need to reset, that’s exactly what I’ll do. I need Yoga with Adriene, hours on my guitar, read a book, catch up with friends, write more, I missed writing, I already feel better writing this. What a cathartic, therapeutic experience it is for me.

But I also need adrenaline… make new friends, sing at the top of my lungs, run until I can’t breathe, dance until my feet hurt, try new things…

I think I may have come up with a title…

I’m ready. Whatever this week brings.

Χριστός Ανέστη to all my Cypriot friends and family.

Namaste

Eleni