It was all going so well. I was managing to fit in regular exercise, a constant sleep patter, and the warm weather and humidity was working its feelers through my bones. It just felt like I was managing my relationship with Art well. There were no complications. It was simple – he was doing as he was told (as he should).
The weather changed dramatically. I mean overnight kind of change. But wherever I went – shops, work, restaurants, university – they still managed to keep the air conditioners blaring. And then it got hot again, and then cold again. My body is a barometer and the pain swings to different degrees just as the needle of the barometer moves.
My youngest daughter started waking up during the night – again – and i found myself falling quickly into a pattern of feeding her a bottle until she went to sleep again. I felt that this was the quickest outcome to getting myself back to sleep, rather than listen to her stubborn scream for two hours. But I soon realised that the constant broken sleep was starting to wear away at my resolve. I soon started reverting to my ipod and earplugs, but the toll had already taken its arthritic measure.
My job is physically demanding, some days, and sedentary, other days. There is no consistency to the overuse and under-use. Some days I’m on my feet for hours straight and then other days I’m sitting on my backside for hours straight. This doesn’t give me the opportunity to plan rests, or the complete opposite, plan set movements.
Thanks to these three items of change, I turned back into my Art personality: moody, snappy, bitchy, snappy, emotional, fogged, disorganised and anguished. And, in this place, I still am today.
I need a plan of action. I do not like the ‘Art Shan’. I do not like living with ‘him her’ every day rolling over a 24 hours cycle. ‘He She’ loses all perception, all grace, and all kindness.