Serving Time. Part 4
“This is an investment in US, Spook!!” I declared, with eyes like saucers in a state of happy excitement. “I’m taking you with me on this journey!”
I wasn’t quite sure why he wasn’t as excited as me. But then he’s not on the drugs. And this was around teatime on the first day, as he arrived home from work – so not really on the same page.
His eyes scanned the kitchen. Tidy. Space. Unusual. Unlikely to last.
For the last 2 years I have waited until 5pm so that I can sit down and have a glass of white wine and a bowl of crisps. This signifies the end of a day when I no longer must ponder all the things I was going to get done and didn’t. Now it’s too late, so I don’t have to ponder any longer. The irritating thing was that I had to make Spook a meal even though I didn’t really need one because I was full of crisps. I specifically remember 35 years ago, cooking his tea and thinking ‘I won’t have to do this every day for the rest of my life, will I?’
Turns out yes, 35 years and still simmering with bouts of resentment.
One tiny little capsule and I’ve turned into a delight (in my personal view.) I spent the whole of the first day happily absorbed in tidying my kitchen. 26 years in this house and every nook and cranny is stuffed with mostly nothing of importance. We operate out of the front of each cupboard or drawer. There’s no space to put anything else, so there is spillage. Any tidy up lasts a very short time because it’s superficial.
Suddenly I have developed a capacity to focus on one small detail to start me off, rather than the whole room. I start there and I move methodically and smoothly through the room, one drawer and cupboard at time. Things dawn on me. The baking cupboard was never meant to be a baking cupboard. It’s a high, deep corner cupboard and everything is too small and finnicky and that’s why you can’t find anything. Fresh items are squeezed in on top of open packets spilling out. Spillage is a theme here. I took big items from a low cupboard which had a space round a corner that couldn’t be viewed and I put those big items in the baking cupboard. Now I can see my slow cooker, my oven dishes and other items that I had to blindly flail about to find, whilst worrying about catching a stray mouse by mistake. This is the kind of cupboard where they lurk, feeling safe. It took a wee capsule for me to see this. Little by little I emptied things out onto the kitchen counters and planned where the best place was for them to go. I didn’t get fed up or bored or tired. I was just absorbed. And happy. And felt empowered because now I can organise my own spaces and don’t need friends to do it for me and watch me mess it all up again. I find myself learning things I was meant to learn in girlhood. Like washing my coffee and milk pot after I’ve drunk my coffee. Daily, I have to clean my coffee and milk pot before I can make my coffee, because they are still steeping at the sink. Now, without any hesitation, I wash up after breakfast. This is not hard and doesn’t take long. But I didn’t do it prior to taking my little capsule. I straighten pictures, dust(!!!!) put things away instinctively (and now they have a place to go.) I’ve thrown away so many things that are broken or incomplete, that no one would really believe I’d seen fit to keep in the first place.
My grown children watch in wonder. My daughter now has the belief that this will last. So do I. My son headed off for a 4 month trip and said he couldn’t wait to see how the place looks when he gets home. Because he believes this energy and focus will continue. And so do I. Every day I wake up, I wonder, ‘what will I achieve today?’ And I know that I will achieve things. You have to live with me or be very close to me, to understand the extent of the chaos that lurks within the drawers and cupboards, and the reality of how little gets done on any given day. And the effect that it has on my crowded brain. It affects us all who live here and we had all become resigned to it. The creativity that I have been enjoying here, is the creation of space and therefore calmness in my life. I haven’t yet felt compelled to paint, but that doesn’t worry me. I did tidy my studio to a satisfying state so that it’s ready for when I am ready. I stopped tidying every now and then because I felt compelled to write this down. That clears a space in my head and if you happen to live in Fort William and meet me in the street, the chances are that I will not need to tell you everything at once. I might not need to tell you anything at all.
The clarity of my thought process is a source of pleasure for me. My ear worm for the first week was “I can see clearly now the rain has gone. I see all obstacles disappear.” I wonder if Johnny Nash found what I found.
Spook comes home to a busy, loving wife, who has cooked his tea with no clear sign of any resentment (this very traditional picture evolves from him being very good at fixing everything and having to endlessly fix them. If I could fix things, he’d be cooking the tea.) I am patient, listen attentively to the stories of his day and am so close to being the perfect 1950’s housewife, it’s totally unnerving him. I sing his praises endlessly and can’t quite see past how great he is. Absolutely terrifying.
I believe I can do things if I choose to. I just want to see where my nose leads me. Meanwhile, I’ve had some great chats with people who have either a diagnosis or are considering seeking one. We compare notes. Such differences in our age, academic success, gender, and yet we connect because there are these themes that run through each of our lives that we recognise and empathise with. One person is exploring the effect it has had on his life, seeking to understand his issues and look at what he can do to smooth the things that are troublesome and celebrate other aspects. He’s not planning to go down the medicated route. Another has chosen the medicated route as the impact on her life was harsh and debilitating despite real academic and professional success. This is not a magic pill. It doesn’t iron everything out and at the base of this, you still have the personality that you have. And there can be other things like hormones raging through your system that complicate things. My clinician said “this doesn’t solve everything. It doesn’t make you a genius if you’re not, but it gives you a fighting chance. You must do the work.”
Each person I’ve spoken with demonstrates such empathy, that it warms the soul. I am 3 weeks into this treatment, and it has been illuminating and exciting. I’m not advocating for medication as the route for everyone. But at 62, I don’t have time to mess about. You need to take the assessment and be under the care of your Clinician who reviews and monitors side effects and efficacy.
Lucky, lucky Spook. That’s all I can say. It’s like we’re 30 years younger, I say with effervescent enthusiasm.
Spooks reaction? Well he told me he’d bought something. Something special, he said.
A one man tent…..
