Look there’s the sun! No, it’s gone again. Now it’s raining but there’s a teeny patch of blue sky up above Hay Bluff, no, to the far left, that fingernail of God in a good mood… there comes tha rain again and here are clouds massing from the north. How the plants are thriving, green and lush. Except for all those silly sunloving plants going yellow from sodden roots. Quick, there’s sunshine out in the back garden — no, I was wrong, it was a marmelade cat.
Sat up in bed this morning, watching the fine slanting lines of rain from a my bedroom window. Overwrought with anxiety about work not going well enough, not earning enough, feeling heavy and demoralised in menopause, so far away from friends and a life of my own in a hot climate. Self-pity with fear lurking around the corner. Then talked with S at breakfast and suddenly it was better, the connection so warm and loving, the reassurance that I am wanted here and loved. Came back to the study singing.
I have spent so many years trapped in my own thoughts, self-absorbed and lonely and afraid of others. Dreading rejection and abandonment and criticism. It amazes me now that I am able to come out of a dark mood as I would walk out of a windowless room and be with others, get a new perspective on the world.
Saying to S that I might go to yoga lessons, get more exercise, try herbal remedies and perhaps evening prrimrose oil to help with the symptoms of menopause. Moving away from that locked ward within me, the place of failure and stasis, huddled in depression and hoping to go unnoticed. Such dark places in me and others do not suspect, cannot offer support unless I talk about it.
Later there will be a trip into the market town for coffee and a ramble around bookshops, then lunch and a drive down through the Golden Valley to Usk and dinner with friends. And, as if on cue, the sun has come out, blazing in through the open windows like a smiling reproach.