Normal service has been resumed

Some of you may (!!) have noticed that I was at the Blog Awards on Saturday night.

There was chocolate too. And a drag queen.
It was a strange evening (I should quantify that by saying not in a bad way) for many reasons, not least because of how I was feeling in the week leading up to it. More on that in a moment. The other strange - maybe unexpected is a better word - but fun parts? The drag queen MC, Bunny, who had the most spectacular waistline I've ever seen and played a blinder keeping things going considering most of the nominees who actually won weren't even there. The burlesque dancers.

And all that jazz!
Feeling confident enough to dance despite not drinking. But what I think was most surprising, was how little disappointment I felt at not winning. I think there were a lot of things going on that contributed to that.

The 'points for effort!' certificates
So I mentioned I wasn't feeling great last week. That's something of an understatement. I felt horrific. Since my last post, when I realised I was starting to head towards dangerously tired, I slipped over the edge. It happened almost without noticing. I've talked about how it feels before, so I won't get into that again, but suffice to say all the warning flags were flying, and Hubby felt I was behind a wall again. It was so incredibly tempting to give in. For a few days there, all I was doing was getting through the day, doing the bare minimum to keep going, and just waiting for the kids to be in bed so I could go to bed too and make my head stop, because the noise was getting so loud. I mailed Therapist when I shouldn't have. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I toyed with not going to the awards, because it all seemed like too much effort. But I went nonetheless. I was convinced I wouldn't enjoy the evening, and during the few hours between landing in my parents house and starting to get myself ready, I was in the horrors.

But then something shifted. I don't know if it was the suspense of not knowing what the outcome of the evening would be - would I win?? Or maybe the sheer novelty of putting on a dress and spending a bit of time getting ready, something I haven't done in a long time. Maybe it was the prospect of getting to spend the evening hanging out with my sister. Whatever it was, it worked. By the time I was ready to leave I was feeling a lot better, and we really enjoyed the night. I didn't win. But it didn't bother me. Yes, there was the momentary 'oh my god what if???!' as the nominees were read out, followed by a pang of disappointment when my name didn't come up again, but that was it. For me, going to those awards was more of a marker of how far I've come this year than anything else. I didn't start the blog to win prizes (although everyone likes a bit of recognition). Hubby was really insistent that I go, and he was right.

Things have changed an awful lot since this time last year, and if you'd told me then that I'd spend last Saturday at an awards night because my blog had made it through to a final, chances are I'd have laughed in your face. I never imagined I'd find myself doing such a thing. But, I can't ignore the fact that I have depression, and while it can abate, I think it's always going to lurk in the background, waiting for me to drop my defences. I don't know what triggered last week, and that's the problem with depression, there isn't always going to be a trigger. That's why I have to be so careful. There's some fall out from last week that has yet to be dealt with, primarily with Therapist and I'm really not looking forward to that. But it has to be done. I may start to feel bad again, I may not, I just don't know. So as always, I'll take it one day at a time, and just try to keep myself afloat. That and hold on to the progress I've made. That's my win. And my prize? I'm still here.

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