Category Archives: sevilla

staycation (almost over!)

12 Monday Aug 2024

Posted by in health, hope, sevilla, sevilla staycation, spain

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final stretch

So this is the home stretch, the final three weeks of my Staycation, which officially began on July 8th, so eight whole weeks in total (my next tours are booked for the first week in September). Although I could ill afford taking so much time off I chose to do it because 1) I needed a break, a serious “time out” to hopefully sort out what to do next and 2) I can barely walk anymore. I had a few vague plans and ideas, I had some hope…

And well, I can’t say I didn’t end up achieving any of my goals as most of them were so vague that it would be hard to know if they were achieved or not, but I do feel a bit disappointed that not much has changed. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve really enjoyed this time off, just being able to do WHATEVER when I got up in the morning. And I’m still doing the daily workouts. But as for the rest… I dunno. I’m not even very sure about what I thought might happen, though I did hope the time out would help give me some clarity. Nope.

Anyhow, three more weeks then back to work. That is IF I can walk. There are okay days and then some really not okay days. Like today. I tried walking down to the river and back (not far) and I was almost crying from the stabbing pain in my right knee. One good thing is that I got the appointment for my MRI… September 16th! So there’s a bit of hope. I may just develop a what-the-hell approach for these last three weeks, meaning just fuck it all and stop even thinking that I need to be accomplishing or improving or changing anything. Just be. Maybe I should have been doing this all along. How’s your summer going?

beer o’clock therapy

06 Tuesday Aug 2024

Posted by in health, health & happiness, sevilla, tapas, tapas bars

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beer oclock therapy

I guess I should have known something was up when I barely managed to drag myself out for an evening walk last Friday and after that spent two entire days hiding out at home. I say “hiding out” because that’s what it felt like. I blamed my KNEE because, frankly, walking hurts like fuck. But there was something else going on, I think. And maybe that’s what led to yesterday’s HOME PANIC ATTACK.

Today started off fine. I managed a reasonable 5 hours of sleep (4 + 1 later on) and felt okay. Got my “office work” out of the way and then did a good cardio chair workout. But then what? Early afternoon is when I prefer to go out. Sometimes for lunch, or to go shopping and run errands, getting those steps in before it get too hot. But I wasn’t feeling it and just when I was about to cave and stay home I remembered that I hadn’t posted a Beer O’clock pic on Instagram since last Friday. OMG.

Thing is, people often think I am eating (and drinking) out every day because I post photos on my Sevilla Tapas social media accounts every day. But… hey, that’s my job. And I mean, that’s the “magic” of social media of course, nothing is ever as it seems. EXCEPT my Beer O’clock photos. Those are the only photos I upload in real time (no cheating!).

And so that’s what got me dressed and out the door today, FUCK THE KNEE. I mean, whatever it takes, right? And well, it was fine. I’m glad I went out, but I’m not gonna lie, it hurt like crazy and I had to keep stopping for a break, literally gasping in pain at times. But I got to sit at the bar in Las Teresas, have a frosty cold beer, chat with the barman and the owner and feel like I always do in these lovely Sevilla bars of mine… totally at home. Worth it.

panic makes a house call

05 Monday Aug 2024

Posted by in casa azahar, health, health & happiness, sevilla

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panic

Something happened today and I wasn’t sure if I would talk about it here but after telling my friend Kate (aka @sledpress) it seemed okay to also share it with you guys. Some of you know that for years (since I was about 14 actually) I’ve suffered from panic attacks/agoraphobia, no doubt a result of chronic anxiety that has been with me since childhood. Oddly or otherwise the attacks pretty much went away during and post cancer (I guess almost dying kind of knocked them out of the ballpark in terms of things I had to worry about). That is until about five years later (2016) during a trip to London when I was hit with an overwhelming panic attack while crossing Trafalgar Square. And just like that they were back.

These days they have become less frequent but they still lurk menacingly in the background. Crossing bridges can still be fraught, also sudden changes in light. But this morning I had this happen to me while sitting at my desk and it especially scared the fuck out of me because, well, I don’t get panic attacks at home! This is my safe place. Or it’s supposed to be and has been until now. Anyhow, suddenly I started feeling disconnected from “reality” and there was a huge surge of panic rising in my solar plexus and that old feeling like I am dissolving and have no skin anymore… absolutely terrifying. No words can actually describe it. I don’t know how I “came back” but lots of deep breathing, some distraction therapy and then doing a chair workout… and phew. The worst of it was over.

I tried telling Peter and he just looked at me like a deer caught in the headlights, though later he came out of his room and gave me a hug. What can I say, he’s not really a hugger, but it was nice that he tried. Then I told Kate on whatsapp and I felt better knowing that she would read it and understand. Later, when we were on similar “awake times” we chatted a bit and that also helped a lot.

Had it been a typical episode, crossing a bridge or just being blindsided out in the street, I would have retreated to my lovely Casa Azahar knowing that at least I am safe here. But now? There never used to be any triggers here at home and it’s well documented that the fearful anticipation of a panic attack happening again from being in a similar situation… well, it can cause them to happen again.

I need to fight this, just not sure how to go about it yet. And no, this is not exactly how I had hoped to spend the second half of my Staycation but here we are. I mean, maybe it was a one off, maybe it won’t happen again at home. But now I’ve lost my trust in my home being my safe place. My refuge. Dammit.