Losing It

Losing It

Having danced on trails
Embraced mountains

And somersaulted into oceans

We got lost

In the roundabout

Of good-buys

This is a recent poem (2018).

Growing Up

We notice how you grow

not only by having 

to replace your 

clothes, shoes

(and our knowledge of

Netflix shows)

on a regular basis

but also from your

ever increasingly

(in your mother's eyes)

daring antics

on the playground

(June 2018)

My New Therapist

My new therapist is German, has lived in Switzerland for more than 20 years, is married to an American, and uses the F… word.

I like her.

She came recommended by my GP, when I mentioned, during one of several appointments last year (apparently, going to the doctor with diffuse symptoms on a regular basis can be a symptom of depression), that I was considering changing my therapist.

The thought of trying to find someone new and going through everything that had happened since my post natal depression once again had just felt too daunting earlier. But this day at my GP’s, I realised that the only benefit I had received from my weekly appointments the last two years was a very intense German conversation class (without the homework and discussions on finer grammatical points). My head wasn’t any clearer and I was still struggling with the same issues on a daily basis without having been given any tools to try and deal with them.

One of my friends, who’s also known to therapy, once told me she wanted to change her therapist. She explained that she found it difficult as she didn't want to upset her current therapist by leaving. At the time I didn’t understand her. To be honest, I thought she was being ridiculous. Now I’ve been in the same situation as her, I wish I hadn’t been so harsh on her and quick to judge. Because I totally agree with her sentiments about not wanting to hurt someone.

It IS silly, if you look at it logically. These therapists provide a service to you and if you’re not happy with that service, you should take your business (you) elsewhere. Most people would do that with their hairdresser, dentist, tattooist...

I’m so thrilled to have found someone who seems to ‘get’ me. She doesn’t agree with all my theories about why I might be feeling this way or that, but she gives me useful feedback and makes me think about why so and so and how so and so. (We're a lot more specific in our sessions.)

What I really appreciate about her is that she seems to care. Genuinely care. You leave her office with the feeling that she wants you to get better and not that you’re another patient (product) she should try to squeeze money out of for as long as possible.  

If you are in a similar situation and want to change your therapist, please don't make the mistake I did and wait too long. Had I not made the change in November last year, I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t have got the help I needed earlier this year. Or I would have got it when I was in a much worse mental (and physical) state.

It’s your mental health that’s at stake, and you deserve and need someone who’s right for you to help you get better.

Mail

Mail

sent my heart

through the mail

now my life

depends on

postman cyberspace

Lost

Lost

when you left

you took the directions

of my life with you

now I'm not only

heartbroken

I'm also completely lost

Another poem from my pre-being-a-mother and pre-married life...

Easy Spinach and Feta Quiche

I'm always on the look out for new ideas when it comes to what to serve for dinner - and as I know many of you guys probably feel the same, I want to share this healthy, time and family friendly, oh, and did I mention easy? recipe with you.

This quiche is so easy to make, delicious (both hot and cold) and a total hit with all three members of the family. Stefan refers to this as 'the second pizza' (we often have an easy-to-make home made pizza which I guess must be the first one) and he loves, loves, loves it. 

STEP ONE

Ingrediens and method:

Pre-heat oven to 220० C (or according to the instructions, see below)

Ready-made dough for quiche (32 cm in diameter)

6 large eggs mixed together

200 g feta - crumble and add to egg mixture

200 g defrosted or fresh (if fresh, blanche it first - 2 mins in boiling water) spinach, squeeze as much water as possible out of it and add to egg mixture

Salt & pepper

To fluff up the quiche, and / or if you happen to have some half / full cream left over, add 1 dl to the mixture

 STEP TWO

Playing with Dough:

Follow instructions on pack. 
Mine say to place paper and dough in the tray, make it look pretty, cut off extra paper and manically pierce holes on bottom with a fork.

STEP THREE

What to do with the Mixture:

Pour mixture into tray.

STEP FOUR

How Long to Bake and What to Expect Post-Baking:

Bake for 35-40 minutes in the bottom part of the pre-heated oven and it could look like this when it's finished.

If the quiche starts emitting hot air when you cut into it DON'T PANIC! It's not ruined and won't implode like a not-totally-baked-through souffle (not that I have any experience making souffles but I guess my explanation might work). I don't know why this happens but could come up with many theories. However, I won't. 

Suffice to say that this baking phenomena happened during the making of above-pictured quiche and as you can see and read below, everyone was happy with the outcome. 

BONUS PICTURE

History Behind Bonus Picture:

Don't ask me why I decided to illustrate what the quiche looked like inside by placing one slice on top of a dark pink spatula on top of the quiche itself. I don't know. The quiche was so delicious that it was eaten before I got around to taking a new picture. 

The few times there were some leftovers, these were served cold the next day - when they were as quickly devoured as newly baked the evening before. 

En Guete! 

Seduction

'Come here,' you say

with the voice of a new lover.

I go into the bedroom

and there you are

'Come closer.'

I sit down on the bed.

'Lie down and close your eyes.'

I do as I'm told.

'Good girl. 

Give yourself a hug.'

'Nothing or no one can get to you here.'

Are the last words I hear,

before I fall asleep 

under

the duvet.

The flight 

from responsibilities 

and (real) life

has begun.

Radio Silence

This post is an attempt to explain in a very brief way, why I've been off-line for a while:

On Thursday 25 January, I packed my bags and got on a train. My destination was a psychiatric hospital outside Zürich, where I would spend the next couple of months getting back on my feet (both the mental as well as physical ones).

Most of December last year I spent under my duvet in my bed or on our sofa watching Netflix and knitting. Outside was a scary place and meeting people was even scarier. I clearly needed help.

I know I haven't written much about my work situation in this blog and that's on purpose. Not that there hasn't been enough to write about! There's been plenty of drama: I've had five different jobs in Switzerland which have all (bar one) come to quite abrupt ends. (My CV doesn't include all my past jobs, as I would find it very hard to explain my obvious talent for job-hopping, so I've left out the ones which I just want to forget about...)

What all the positions had in common was that I tried to turn myself into (what I thought was) the right person for the job, even though it meant becoming someone else who looked like me but had to behave out of character eight hours a day, every day, five days a week.

July last year, I parted company with the latest company in the soap-opera of my professional life and since then, my self-confidence took me by the hand and slowly started to drag me towards my sanctuary - my bed - where we could hide from the evil world of responsibilities, office politics, inefficiency and pointless tasks.

Obviously, this state of affairs messed up everything around me (as well as what wasn't already messed up inside my confused head and body which showed all signs of stress) and with the suggestion from my new psychiatrist and the back-up from Paul, I willingly agreed to be admitted to a clinic that among other mental health areas, specialises in burnout and depression.

I came back on Friday 16 March, two days before my birthday, with a new zest for life, more energy, more optimism, feeling calmer, more relaxed and together than before.

To those of you who, during my stay, sent me letters, magazines, cards, thoughts and with whom I Skyped, thanks so much for being there for me, I'm so happy to have you around. To those of you I haven't been in touch with in a loooooong time, I want you to know that I haven't forgotten about you, and part of my 'new life' is to be better at making sure that the people whose company I thoroughly enjoy are aware that I cherish them.

Only time will tell, how well I've landed on my feet and if they can keep me standing up straight, when smaller and bigger bumps appear on the road ahead. With the daily therapies, introduction to a more active lifestyle and the camaraderie among the other patients, I should be well equipped to even perhaps start to run a bit from time to time. (And that's meant both metaphorically as well as literally.)

For various reasons, I've wanted to be open about the last couple of months. Firstly, because it's now been confirmed that I am prone to getting depressions, if I don't look after myself and ignore the first warning signs; secondly, I want people to know how important it is to ask for help, if you start to shy away from daily life and responsibilities (there are lots of other signs when it comes to being depressed and suffer from burnout) - don't ignore the signs - the longer you leave it, the worse it gets; thirdly, many of my future posts are likely to, in parts, deal with my stay at the clinic and what came before. And after. I really, really hope there will be a long and happy after. I will be doing all I can to make that happen. :-)

Train Journey

I found this poem in one of my notebooks the other day. It's obviously from my earlier life when I was a single woman with a daily commute. 

Train Journey

My recent crush

sits down opposite me

the recognition

in his smile

from hundreds 

of brief encounters like this one

makes the rest of my day.