A Scarfie in the Wrong City
It’s always a delight to get mail that’s not from the uni, the bank or something else to do with me not having any money, so there was a big smile when my package from my friend Kirsti finally arrived.
As you can see, the present was a lovely made-by-Kirsti scarf and since it is too warm here for me to use it right now, it is instead being modelled by the lovely Cheer Bear. It also came with a note, part of which read:
Anyway, I thought I’d send you this as a Scarfie at a new uni, I figured you’d need a new scarf! I hope you like the colours - but then again, you did help me pick them out!
I do love the scarf, Kirsti, and I love the colours - although at the time I wasn’t picking them for me! Thank you! It’ll help me colour up my winter wardrobe.
In other news, I am all finished registering with the university, and I start on Monday. I’m already registered with Disability Support Services, too. The anti-depressants have started set in and my concentration has started to come back, and I am sleeping better than I have in years. There is, however, a new diagnosis of PTSD, which is a bummer. But better I know, I guess.
So a whole new adventure starts on Monday. The final years of my degree, hopefully!
Wish me luck!
Colour My World
This morning someone mentioned to me that they knew a person who wore only blue - until her depressive mood shifted, and she began wearing more colours.
That comment got me thinking about my own wardrobe and the rather obvious lack of colour options. In fact, it’s not just my wardrobe - my default colour for everything is blue, be it clothes, towels or stationary. If it not blue, the majority it black or grey.
So when I was instructed to go buy a notebook with a bright fancy colour to record my positive emotions (my “Happy Book”, as I now refer to it) my hand automatically went to pick the blue one up, before straying to the plain black visual diary. Recalling the story about the woman who only wore blue, I made a conscious effort to choose the pink.
Reading up on colour therapy and my wardrobe, I do feel that I need a change, something to help lift my mood. I don’t need to go out and re-design my wardrobe (I don’t have the money, for starters!) but even just the conscious idea of seeking colour for my life is uplifting. I want a pair of brightly-coloured striped socks to change from the mundane white socks I always wear. Looking in my draw now, I don’t see any t-shirts that are not black, grey, dark blue or white. It’s depressing, to say the least.
I need colour in my life.
