After deciding to speak out about my issues, I’ve almost immediately ended up worrying that I’m boring everyone with being the ‘Debbie Downer’ when telling people who’ve asked how I am actually how I’m doing (spoiler alert, it’s been pretty rough lately).
But fuck it – I’ve been worrying more that I said I was going to go beyond the rose-tinted glasses, yet have posted pictures of all of the best parts of my holiday online with no further comment. Now, I’m not going to pretend that people with anxiety or depression can’t ever write posts or share pictures about the good parts of their lives; I would just like to point out that it wasn’t quite as good as it appears to be.
It took me a whole day of being inside our flat in Budapest to recover from the flight, or more specifically, going through airport security. I also went to the dental appointment I’d talked about making in my ‘dentists and depression go hand in hand’ post, which was not a fun experience. Long story short: private dentists still run forty minutes late after forcing you into an 8:30am appointment and I don’t have the thousands of pounds that I need for treatment. (It’s a long shot, but my friends actually made a GoFundMe for the treatment I need https://www.gofundme.com/jade039s-dental-treatment if you have anything you can spare it would be greatly appreciated.)
The picture of me gleefully riding a bike in front of the stunning parliament building in Budapest obviously doesn’t show that, a couple of days previously a few feet from where that picture was taken, I had burst into tears the first time we hired bikes which was my idea in the first place because of my anxiety.
The good part though, after some reassurance from my partner and a short walk to the cycle path, we managed to ride along the river Danube in the sunshine to Margitsziget, a quiet island with fountains and pedal carts and the ruins of a convent. We rode around the entire island having a great time and I even managed to ride down the road through the center because it was quiet. As quite often happens, something that seemed scary actually wasn’t the more I persevered. I’m glad that following the first hiccup I got back on the bike and carried on, allowing us to explore parts of Budapest we might not have otherwise.
I’ve also changed my cover photo to this glorious picture of me pretending to be a fancy person, but it obviously doesn’t show that we had to leave the museum early before exploring half of it because I was just so fucking exhausted and couldn’t deal with walking around it any more. I’m a cup of tea personified; my range for the perfect temperature is very, very slight. I’m too cold, too cold, too cold, just right and then too hot. And then way too hot. And man was it hot that day. So although we managed to see some cool stuff and get some cool pictures, I still felt bad that Cripps couldn’t look at the rest of the museum. I swear half of my relationship is me feeling guilty that my anxiety and/or Jade-isms have such an impact on my other half, even though he is always understanding and accommodating.
We had some really good points on the holiday, but it was very taxing at the same time. I’m not trying to pretend I don’t ever have fun, or that ‘normal’ people don’t ever find things difficult, I just wanted to share the side of the holiday that the pictures don’t show.