No more sums!

Around this time last year I started to measure my mood.  For lots of reasons, this seemed like a good thing to do.  A way of keeping an eye on things when, to be fair, I wasn't at my most observant.

A lot of measuring goes on in Primary Care, to be sure.  I guess they have to 'quantify'.  I have no idea who, if anyone at all, actually looks at all the sheets of A4 to see which boxes were ticked and what it adds up to.  What it all means.
Maybe doing the maths - employing a rational system and set of rules, means something to someone somewhere, just not me.

I might be number-blind, if such a thing exists, or had too many lazy teachers in this area.  I remember doing an awful lot of drawings on both of my Maths 'o' level papers, is all.
But that's another bucket of fish.

Suffice to say it got to a point when I was looking at a graph of dots and lines, which was a diagram of my mood, and it stopped making sense.
Am I flat-lining? Now it looks like I've climbed a big hill but, oh no! a day later I fell off it.  That's what the dots and lines seem to be saying.  I'm neither reassured nor enlightened by this.


Being a garden girl however, I am far more in tune with the weather.  Many months ago, while being lulled by the familiar rhythm of the Shipping Forecast - the names of South-east Iceland, Faeroes, Fair Isle, Viking, North Utsire and South Utsire are taking my mind round the map.  I'm imagining the deep waters of these sea areas at night, a small fishing boat in the vast expanse with all ears bent on the Forecast.

It occurs to me that these descriptions fit my internal weather and mood far better than numbers and graphs.

New low

Becoming poor for a time

Rising more slowly

Mist 1 mile

Falling slowly

Steady drizzle

Slow moving, declining

Mainly fair, moderate or good

Occasionally very poor

So instead of measuring, I now check the weather and make a note  of it.  This can look a little like a poem, the words bring images, and say more to me than numbers ever will.