After the disappointing experience with my psychiatrist recently, I was supposed to see my CPN the following week. I cancelled the appointment because I had so much on, including rehearsals for the two choirs I am involved with. I will elaborate more on my singing activities in a moment, but first, my nurse. She asked why I wanted to cancel the appointment. I told her only that I was busy and already had another appointment that day, and I didn’t want to overdo things. I didn’t tell her that I’m still pretty disillusioned with the CMHT and that I’m not sure what else anyone can do to help in light of what my psychiatrist said. This was on a Thursday. She said she couldn’t book me another appointment until the following Tuesday as she didn’t know what the rota would look like, and could I call her to book something in. I didn’t. That was over a week ago. As I’m surprisingly doing quite well at the moment the slightly naughty part of me is seeing how long I can leave it before she realises. Yes, I may live to regret this, but I’m still reeling from what the doctor said, and if they’re not bothered why should I be? Maybe they’ll discharge me (I can live in hope!) I realised just this week that the support I receive from my wellbeing adviser at Mind is far superior to anything the CMHT have been able to offer me since my previous nurse left. 

Anyway, as I mentioned I have been doing a lot of singing in the last week, and I mean a lot! I was in rehearsals Friday afternoon for Fusion Choir’s concert in the evening, and in rehearsals with our church Christmas choir Saturday and Sunday afternoon for our carol service Sunday evening. I also had my son to stay four nights Thursday to Monday, which is longer than I usually attempt, even when I’m not that busy! I literally cleared all my other commitments in the week prior and just did what I absolutely had to. I actually acknowledged this was going to be a crazy time coming up and that I needed to look after myself and just rest whenever I could.

After singing in the Fusion Choir concert two years ago, the choir leader asked if I would consider singing a solo the following year. Last year it just didn’t happen, so when she asked me again this year, I promised that health permitting I would do it. Mid-October she had emailed me asking me to confirm if I still wanted to do something at Christmas. The email disappeared into my spam box where I only discovered it into November, after being away from choir with a chest infection and I admit I thought my opportunity had passed. It was my choir buddy who talked me into plucking up the courage to speak to the choir leader, and that same afternoon after a quick run through of the song I wanted to do, my name was added to the concert playlist. To say I was bouncing was an understatement.

I used to be much more involved in the music and worship ministry at the church I go to previous to becoming ill three years ago. In fact further back than that, it was not unusual for me to sing a solo item every Christmas carol service, sometimes just in a Sunday service too. It was only when I started to reflect did I realise that I hadn’t sung solo since my husband died eight years ago. He hadn’t been massively supportive of my singing, not that it had put me off then, but in the subsequent years my confidence had just plummeted. I tried hard not to let that make me nervous, and in fact remained incredibly chilled about it, right up to the night of the concert, when everyone in the choir (it seemed) wanted to know if I was nervous! If I didn’t think about it I was fine. The choir leader and fellow singers were positive and encouraging though so I clung onto that.

Even seeing my dad and my boy in the audience didn’t worry me. My son was beaming  every time we made eye contact through the evening program and when I came to do my solo he looked fit to burst. Even my dad has since commented how well I did. If he enjoyed it, it must’ve been ok! 

At the end of the evening I was buzzing. I was desperately trying to wind down so I could get to bed because I knew I had two more days of rehearsals followed by the carol service yet to survive. Added to that, my back was agonising. I genuinely considered pulling out of the church choir.

I decided I would just keep going as long as I could. Two years back I had attempted the same crazy weekend of singing, and although I managed both performances I’d had a complete anxiety meltdown mid-rehearsal on the Sunday afternoon and had to retreat to the sofa in the pastor’s office to recoup. It had taken me days after to fully recover.

By Sunday morning I could see history repeating itself. I was tired, my back hurt and I was getter tearful. The choir leader spotted me sitting quietly and checked if I was ok. Everything came blurting out and her kindness meant I was able to rehearse sitting down and take a break if I needed to. I kept topped up with painkillers and soldiered on.

If I thought the Discovery Centre was packed Friday, that was nothing on the church Sunday evening. Over 250 people crammed into the building. It was so busy that as a choir we sacrificed our seats that had initially been reserved for us when we were not on the stage in favour of standing in the foyer. And it went so well. Our church is far from traditional, so responses of friends and visitors can be mixed, but I didn’t hear of a single person who didn’t enjoy it. As a choir we had a ball, and our enthusiasm spread rapidly to the congregation.

Again I was buzzing Sunday evening. I planned to rest Monday, but when it came to it I felt up to going to the autobiography group I’ve been attending. I’ve achieved a lot around the flat this week too. The boy and I had done the Christmas tree Saturday evening, but I finished off the other decorations, have nearly finished my Christmas shopping and have been writing cards, in addition to the more mundane household stuff. And I am ok. I kind of expected to crash after the weekend but am fine as yet. It may still come, but I’ll face that if and when. I may be a tiny bit up, but am keeping it in check. I am being so incredibly good at being sensible and prioritising self care right now, it’s almost unnerving. I feel settled. No extremes of mood. And I’m actually kind of starting to look forward to Christmas. And for the first time in a while I’m feeling hopefully optimistic about the new year. I’ve a feeling better things are around the corner.

👼🏼