Random Musings

If you’ve been with me a while, you know I have mental health stuff. I live with depression and anxiety, among other things.

Right now I’m on a Thai beach. It is HOT. And beautiful. And humid. I’ve never sweat this much in my life. And monkey’s coconuts, is it amazing here. You’d think that I’d be blissed out.

And mostly, I have been.

But that black dog, the tar that seeps in my brain, remains active.

Why is my wife with me? Surely she’s tired of me now. She could do so much better. I’m fat and old and useless and not deserving of her love, time, or attention. I’m embarrassing (as proven by the vomiting incident, below) and she must be mortified to be seen with me.

The thoughts don’t stop, even for a holiday in paradise. Especially when I hate the sight of myself, and yet it’s simply too hot to wear clothes to hide my revolting body or make-up to hide my hideous face. I’m a sweaty, fat mess, and any second now she’ll get tired of having to look at me and will go…

Any minute now…

But she doesn’t. She just keeps loving me, reassuring me, and holding my hair when I’m sick. She works so hard at doing things that make me smile, and I know how lucky I am that she doesn’t give up on me.

The vomiting incident

I’ve always been prone to motion sickness. Car, boat, train, plane…my stomach rebels. But we found these natural patches you put behind your ear, and they’ve worked wonders. So I was ready for the speedboat trip to go snorkelling, kayaking, and hiking.

Totally ready.

And I was fine on the boat. It wasn’t until I’d been in the water for a while that I started getting queasy. And queasier.

Until I wondered if this was how I was going to die: choking on my own vomit in a snorkel tube.

And so I was sick right there above the sting rays and zebra fish. The guide took my mask and life jacket and I floated along on the bright orange safety ring with the group.

On the boat, I knew I was in trouble. My stomach was lurching with the tides. When we docked at another island for lunch, I hit my knees on the dock and threw up a Lot of salt water and a bit of watermelon I’d managed to get down. Shaking, I was helped to a mat under the trees.

Ffs. All I needed to do was stick my face in the water and float, and I couldn’t even do that right.

I recovered enough to enjoy the rest of the day. And I’m determined to try to snorkel again today or tomorrow. But my inability to do something so basic has woken the tar in my brain. I’m doing my best to be kind to myself, but it isn’t my strong suit.