So how have I been managing to keep the Avalanche that is trying to bury me at bay? I've been busy. Very very busy. I am doing anything and everything I can to burn off this energy before it has a chance to take hold and consume me.
First of all, I'm walking. A lot. I'm blessed enough to have a lovely nature reserve literally outside my front door that leads to open fields and farm paths. I usually take two 2-4 mile walks a day. I change it up by taking harder climbing paths some days and leisurely winding paths others. It helps. Some.
But how am I really burning off this diesel in my veins? Let's just say my husband is a very patient man. I have DIY'd and gardened to the nth degree. We have a converted garage at the back of the house that has gone through many transformations in the past: gym, art studio, shabby chic furniture project storage, camping gear dumping ground, general junk storage, etc. My manic phase started about the same time my husband got a promotion, that meant he was working from home some. As a result, our dining table turned into a make-shift office. His clutter, my clutter, the dust bunnies were taking over. He started talking about converting that back room into an office. Well my "I can't wait, I gotta do it now" brain took over. We cleared out the room in preparation, but I know my husband didn't see what was coming next.
I woke up one day and couldn't contain the manic energy anymore. Our discussions of paint colours and what to do went out the window. I pulled out all the old paint left over from other rooms. I mixed to part tins of shades of white and boom, ceiling done. I then mixed 6,yes 6, different paints to come up with enough to paint the room. Ended up with a quite nice taupe/beige colour. But now what? Still had that fire burning inside me. The bathroom never saw it coming! Boom! Went from a shocking bright tourquoise blue (probably a result of some manic phase a couple years ago) to a soothing misty grey.
In the midst of all this painting, my frustration over not being able to find the tools I needed to do these jobs, led to a complete clean out and overhaul of two sheds. I think we were close to divorce court when I insisted he sort through two old tool boxes crammed with 25 years worth of crap because I had a meltdown when I couldn't find a screw.
So great, I'm getting shit done, right? Problem is my little flitting dragonfly like brain kept moving on to new projects. Is the back room that is now supposed to be an organised office slash art studio done? Nope. Have I finished decorating the bathroom, the tiniest room in the house? Of course not. Those are small tedious tasks. I needed monumental challenges to quench my thirst! Bring on the landscaping!
Now I'm not talking planting a few things here and there. No no no. We dug up the entire front garden so I could create a landscaped rockery. A quintessential English garden complete with climbing roses and a brand spanking new trellis on the porch! And what of the sea of ugly pebbles in the back garden that previous owners felt was preferential to a beautiful lawn? I spent days raking stones up the slope to create a plateau so that we could put in a small retaining wall and plant new grass seed. Managed to convince hubs this was the time because it was autumn and it was the best time.
But what now? Garden is done. In fact, it's beautiful. DIY done (short of ripping out our kitchen which I know would end in divorce court). All I have left are the tedious little projects. These require focus which I am in short supply of these days. Rage & energy? Plenty. But focus is eluding me.
Someone told me to make a list of things to do. I did. First thing on the list: make lists. That's actually how this whole rolling stone gathering no moss of projects got started. I made lots and lots of lists. As quickly as I crossed one task off, I added three more. I'm out of control. And I'm scared. All of my big energy burning jobs are done. Autumn is here and I can smell winter just around the corner. My walks will dwindle as the cold misty British weather reduces my enthusiasm for walking.
So what is next? My biggest fear. Depression. Everyone who suffers the waves of mania & depression fears this most. Running myself ragged and feeding the mania is so much preferable to the lingering cloud that will smother me in the coming months. Days of not even bothering to get dressed, or even days of not getting out of bed. How do I fight that? You can feed the mania, but the depression feeds on you.
So here I sit. Praying for an early Spring.
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