The whole point of this blog was to diary our transition from living in Sussex to living in the Highlands. I wanted to keep a catalogue of our walks because I’m sure we forgot so many that we loved when we first started really exploring Sussex and Kent. And I wanted to keep a catalogue of our DIY challenges and progress we make on the house – of which things are finally starting to happen.
Right now I want to write about my mental health. It’s always something I’m incredibly mindful of. Over the years I’ve had many people in my life that work so hard with mental health challenges and in my mind, it’s like any other health consideration. When I get a cold, I take medication and drink honey and lemon. When I have period pains, I take painkillers and use a hot water bottle. When my hypermobility did so much damage to my hip, I got the hip replaced. Right now, I can feel my mental health is slipping so I want to take stock of it, acknowledge it and do what I can to help myself get better.
Whilst the weather was always one of the most obvious things I knew would be different, it was something I was looking forward to. I’ve never minded the cold or the rain and hate hot summers. I was also very mindful of the light. For the past few years I’ve always checked sunrise and sunset up here when checking the weather. I know that come December, sunset will be about six hours after sunrise. Since moving here in September, I’ve noticed the days get shorter a lot quicker than they did down in Sussex and I think this is where I’m struggling.
I work as a freelance digital marketer, this time of year always sucks for work. Everyone is winding down for Christmas (marketing campaigns would have been arranged months in advance), staff suddenly have left over annual leave to use and no one is around to sign off budgets. I’m used to it. But this year, I’m finding it much harder. The nature of working freelance means I budget carefully, when work is good, money is put aside for slow periods (and tax returns!) so I’m very fortunate that I don’t need to panic about money. A least, not like I would when I was younger.
Usually, when work is quiet I play in my craft room. In Sussex, 1/4 of my office was set up with my desk, computer and work stuff. 3/4 were shelves of fabrics, drawers of paper and card, sewing machine, overlocker, Cricut, glue guns – plenty to keep my mind occupied and provide a creative release. I can’t unpack all that yet though, it takes days to pack and unpack everything and lots of furniture. Until we’ve had the carpet ripped up to put the spot lights in the ceiling below and new plug sockets chased through the walls, I can’t set all my stuff up yet.
So that leaves me with little to do. I could learn a new skill, study something, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate and I’m finding myself less and less inclined to tether myself to a screen (one reason published posts are so sporadic).
I thought I’d take a look around and see if there are any full time vacancies in my field, but just like freelance contracts, they’re scarce this time of year. I’m sure something will come along but for now, I’m finding myself with a little too much free time on my hands.
When I look at all these points objectively, I know I have nothing to complain about, I know I’m in a better position than many in this country at the moment. I don’t need to worry too much about money and my biggest problem is that I’m bored. I’m far more content when I’m busy, I can slob around with the best of them but only when it’s a reward for a task accomplished.
This is why I’m trying to focus on my mental health. I can invent tasks to complete, I can make myself learn a new skill, but without the pressure of a deadline, I know it won’t be enough to stop this sinking, pit like feeling. I’ve started walking more during the day, I’ve been taking the dogs on longer walks or more frequent walks. As they’re high energy breeds, this is great for them and I always feel more content on days when I’ve had some extra exercise and fresh air.
But I’m finding myself crying for no reason, or at least with very little provocation. I know it will get better, I know work will pick up again, I know I’ll be complaining I’ve committed to too much before I know it. But I also know we’re still four weeks away from the shortest day, I’m feeling like I’m trapped in a more realistic version of Asimov’s Nightfall, when the sun vanishes and the darkness descends, I’m going to lose my sense of self. That last sentence reads like some awful cry for attention from an emo teenager but I can’t find a way to separate my increasingly morose mood with the decreasing lack of daylight.
So I’m writing this:
- As a form of release, I’ve never found much solace in therapy but I’ve always found writing therapeutic
- To look back on – when everything works out, when I’m feeling happy and content, this needs to remind me to be thankful for what I have
- For something to do – I’m determined to keep this diary going and shutting it away just because I’m feeling low seems more juxtaposing than my first point
For now life sucks. We’ve spent so many years planning on moving up here and I love living up here. My favourite time is when James and I are out exploring with the dogs. I definitely don’t regret it, I have no desire to move back to England or anywhere else for that matter. I’m glad we’re here. I just don’t feel happy and that’s what I need to work on.
My Highland Haven 