Dying Your Hair - Read This First

It is a well known fact that we ladies like to look our best. We spend an absolute age on making sure we look just right. Come on girls, how long do we spend showering, exfoliating, defuzzing and moisturising? Probably far too long and that's before we even get started with our hair and make up. We might even indulge in the odd facial, massage and mani or pedi, oh, and don't forget the trips to the hairdressers. You see where I'm going with this now? You see for many of us a trip to the hairdresser may well involve having our hair coloured. For others, it will be a trip to the shops and colouring at home.

I colour my hair. I had a crazy idea back in August or September that it would be fun to just let it go grey to see what it was like, but frankly, I got bored and dyed it again. The issue I have, is that I have to dye it around once a week, once every week and a half if I'm really lucky. The reason being I can only use temporary dyes which last 6 - 8 washes (they never last that long, I hasten to add) because I am allergic to any other chemical dyes. Today, I went to the hairdressers, and not having tested a salon dye, we thought let's give it a try. Knowing full well what the likely outcome would be, I rolled up my sleeve and we did a patch test. This is the result.

Depression - My View

We're all different and we all view things differently. This is no less true of our individual experiences of depression and other mental health issues. There will be similar themes that run through our journeys, but none will be exactly the same. This is how I view depression, and how I try and explain it to people, or one of the ways.

As we all know by now, I live with depression. I was first diagnosed eight years ago and received some amazing CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy) back then. Together with my medication, it has helped me to deal with the condition and to manage any episodes that I've had since my first diagnosis. That is until now. Now I have had my meds increased and am waiting for a fresh round of CBT. In my post Hippo Tours, I reflected on my depression and shared ways in which I was trying to manage it, or rather be distracted from it.

An Eye Opener

Well, there I was yesterday afternoon, desperately racking my brains for something to write about, building ideas and what do you know? I end up getting exactly what I wished for, content. Let me go back to the morning though; trust me, none of this will make sense otherwise.

Much as I didn't want to, I had to get up before 8am yesterday. I had a delivery coming and the time slot was 8.30am - 5pm. So, I reluctantly dragged myself out of bed and jumped (more like climbed slowly) into the shower in a vague attempt at waking myself up. It seemed to work, well sort of. I then had a dither about what I would be doing that day and did I need to put my contact lens in. I decided the contact lens would be needed as I was going to be on the laptop working whilst waiting for the delivery man to arrive. And bonus! That little lens went in like a dream.

Moving Forward

I'm sat in front of this blank screen knowing I need to write something, but not knowing how to. Little Orange Dog has always been intended to be a creative outlet and a therapeutic tool for me, but I never wanted the therapy side of it to take over. That's not how it is at the moment though and honestly, I'm not sure how I'm going to get it back on track anytime soon. Each time I genuinely feel I've turned a corner and am on a clear path, a huge wall looms up ahead. If you read my post My Week on Beta Blockers, you'll know that I have already sought help, and so I was hoping things would get better, but it is just relentless.

I beat myself up over it regularly because I know I have all the tools and skills to deal with this situation, and yet I keep getting knocked back. I think, perhaps, I mean it's ever so slightly possible, that I am being too hard on myself and expecting too much of myself. I am my own worst enemy. I don't have time not to be OK and I don't like not being OK. Quite frankly, it sucks and I just want to get out of it. Being kind to myself is not a natural thing at all. I am my harshest critic and I expect way more of myself than I do anyone else.

My Week on Beta Blockers

Last week, the stress was just too much and my poor resting heart rate was going absolutely nuts; not quite so nuts as it did after having Miss. L, but nuts enough to frighten the living daylights out of me. No one wants a racing heart when the most exertion they've had is drinking a cup of tea.

I'm not a big fan of visiting the Doctor's surgery and, truth be told, I would rather take a chance than willingly go and get checked out, but given it was my heart rate that was causing concern, I relented and got an emergency appointment. Sadly, it was with the duty doctor who doesn't have the benefit of knowing me, but she was very nice and listened.