In the quest for better mental health and a better life balance, I’ve made some huge changes. What may surprise you, is the thing that I’ve found toughest to let go off.
IRONING!!!!! I’m an obsessive ironer. Every little item packed in little man’s nursery bag was maticoulsly pressed, and folded. It was ironed again if staff disrupted his bag through out the day
My work clothes were also pressed into oblivion, and I couldn’t leave for work if I noticed a rogue indentation.
Creases made me cringe. Creases induced anxiety and frustration. Creases were my nemesis. Creases noticed on other commuters clothes irritated me, and honestly made me think a little less off them.
During my stay in hospital, it was not the patient outbursts, lack of liberty, mediocre food or lack of mental stimulation that tortured me.
No!, by far the hardest thing to cope with, was those gut wrenching moments when I had to remove my laundry, all wrinkled and deshevelled from sitting in a dryer over night. I remember once asking the nightstaff if I could get my clothes at midnight. The dagger stare that I was met with, whuch screamed: piss off, was rage inducing. What they didn’t know was that leaving my clothes to wrinkle overnight, meant sleep was hard to come by, as the anxiety took hold.
The thing about ironing and ‘re ironing after every wear, is that it eats up soon much time. It takes away from time spent with little man and OH. It reduces down time, and for what????
So I’ve let go off ironing. I no longer steam little man’s clothes obsessively,. I allow myself weekends in slightly wrinkled clobber.
As for my work clothes????? Well come on now. YOU HAVE TO IRON WORKWEAR!!!
Loopy x.
What really happens in somones head? 