I finally had the results back from my blood test, and it turns out I am severely low in Vitamin D. I really wasn’t expecting that either and hadn’t even considered it, because I’ve been taking Vitamin D every day. But apparently, you have to take it with fat for it to absorb — and, well, I’m in an anorexia relapse. So my fat intake has been pretty low, just like my intake overall.

The results suddenly made the last few months make so much sense. Since November, I’ve been dealing with a really stubborn depression that absolutely NOTHING has helped. Not the usual things I do, not distraction, not even the big guns — adding and increasing antidepressants alongside my antipsychotic. It only got worse around January, which was also the anniversary of my best friend’s death.

I’ve been completely exhausted, my chronic pain has been awful, and I’ve had constant bone pain. But I just assumed it was all due to undereating — because why wouldn’t I? So today, I went out to pick up some much needed D. And that’s the only time you’ll hear me say that, due to being asexual.

Good Morning

I made the absolute most out of my morning thanks to having a doctor’s appointment where I could go at any time. That was really nice — timed appointments usually stress me out so much and trigger a lot of anxiety. “What if I’m late?” “What if I don’t leave enough time for every possible hurdle I could encounter on the way?” But this time, I was just sat enjoying my coffee, knowing I could leave whenever I wanted, and I really appreciated that.

After some quiet time with my coffee while hugging Pesto (my Jellycat penguin, obviously), I got ready to leave. Corrupted Clippy — my somewhat affectionate name for my eating disordered thoughts — has been particularly LOUD and OVERBEARING over the past few days, since I’ve been trying to take some gentle steps toward recovery.

That voice makes even getting dressed feel like a battle, but today I just ignored the hell out of it and put on whatever I grabbed. I’m going to the doctors, not a fashion show. I honestly don’t know why that “what do I look like?” nonsense has to crop up every time I get dressed. There’s a much more important challenge today: noise-cancelling headphones.

I usually wear earphones when I’m outside because full headphones make me feel too visible — too “looked at,” too exposed. I get this weird feeling that they’re attention-grabby, and outside, I really don’t want to be perceived. It’s funny, really — I don’t care what I’m wearing, but somehow headphones feel like a spotlight. Still, I decided to be brave and wear them.

So, wearing my headphones and carrying my tiny but ADORABLE Jellycat Bart bear, I left the house to go to the doctors and pick up my prescription.

Introspective Walking?

On the way there, I kept thinking about how depressed I’ve been, and how hard I’ve tried — yet behind the scenes, my body was actually just SCREAMING for Vitamin D. Maybe I’m not currently as mentally ill as I thought. I’ve been judged so much for how long this depressive episode has lasted, as if it’s my fault. As if I’m not working hard enough. As if I am to blame. What else was I supposed to do? And how was I supposed to know?

People put timelines on suffering. They get real sick of you if it lasts longer than they find acceptable. That’s what has happened to me. When you need people most is when they’re most likely to adios. That’s not abandonment issues — it’s just what happens when you deal with severe mental illness.

I shook my head, like I was trying to erase the sadness and the thoughts like an Etch A Sketch, and tried to enjoy the day. I made a little video of my tiny Bart “walking” to the doctors in the sunshine. I told myself that after picking up the prescription, we could get a treat from Asda. It made walking there so much easier, just having something kind to look forward to in the immediate future.

It was also so much easier because of my headphones. They made a MASSIVE difference. I was finally able to escape into my own brain and actually think while walking. That never happens. Usually, the second I step outside, I’m completely overloaded — my brain goes straight into hypervigilance, like I’m walking through a dystopian hellscape and need to watch my back. But this was a completely different, genuinely life-changing experience.

Outside was… PLEASANT? Wait — is this what normal people experience when they go out? Because whenever someone told me that going outside is good for your mental health, I’d always think, “No, inside is good. Outside is loud and anxiety-inducing and overstimulating. How is that supposed to help?” But now I wonder — also, maybe if I’d been able to experience this sooner, my Vitamin D levels wouldn’t be so severely low.

I Got the Biggest D

I arrived at the doctors with absolutely no issues — prescription acquired —and headed to the pharmacy next door. This one has seats, unlike Boots, so it was easy to wait there. Again, my headphones came in clutch. It was so much more bearable. I was able to sit and think. I ended up next to the drinks fridge and got weirdly nostalgic seeing Barr’s Cherryade in there.

My nan used to buy that. I haven’t had it in years — I haven’t even seen Barr’s Cherryade in years. I don’t know why I didn’t buy it, but I really enjoyed just remembering it. And again, that’s new. Normally, I’d be sitting there in full prescription-waiting mode, juggling seventeen different anxieties at once. But here I was… reminiscing? I guess I’m not going anywhere without these headphones ever again.

Time flew by, and eventually the pharmacist called me over. She told me they didn’t have the full six-week supply of 25,000 IU swamp juice, so I’ll need to go back next week to get the rest. But I’ve got enough for now to get started, so that’s something. Also, I don’t know why this stuck with me, but she was wearing these really bright, lovely blue trousers — and I had to tell her how great they looked. That’s all I could focus on for some reason.

Package acquired. That meant one thing and one thing only: time for little treats.

Asda Treats.

As well as grabbing a few little treats, I also had to pop into Asda for more responsible items. I needed my new favourite yoghurt — Lindahls Pro Lemon Cheesecake. It’s so delicious. I hate all yoghurts except this one, all the others taste like I’m eating soured milk, DISGUSTANG. Unfortunately, they didn’t have any. I did manage to get the vanilla version though, which is only okay, but better than other yoghurts and even better with some Biscoff crumbled into it. I also desperately needed bread and a few other groceries.

My son needed some frozen things and a cucumber, and while I was walking through the home section, I spotted a really lovely plant for his room. He’d put up new shelves all by himself over the weekend, and I thought a little hanging plant would look perfect on them. I texted him a picture, and he got so EXCITED — he replied, “Ooh yes please, that’s PERFECT.” Little treats for myself are often accompanied by little treats for my son, because that makes me even happier.

For myself, I found a pair of Me to You pyjamas covered in bears and little flowers, and I thought, you know what — these are too ADORABLE, I can’t leave them there. I’ll get them for myself for Mother’s Day. I don’t have family to celebrate with, so when an occasion comes around, I try to spend the money I would have spent on someone else… on me. It helps, a little.

I also found some leggings in the sale for £7 — an absolute bargain. They had a tummy control panel, which is exactly what I was hoping for. Despite being underweight, I still have a cortisol belly, and it’s been causing me so much sensory discomfort. I absolutely hate the feel of it. It makes me want to crawl out of my own skin with how much it sets my sensory issues on fire. I thought maybe these leggings would help. I couldn’t wait to get home and try them on to find out.

Taking the D by Mouth

I got home and, after rushing to put the shopping away, I excitedly tried on my high-waisted, compression-type leggings — and they fit like a glove. It felt immediately better being in my own skin. Suddenly, women wearing high-waisted trousers when they hit a certain age made all the sense in the world to me. IT IS SO MUCH BETTER.

Relief washed over me. I finished putting away the rest of the shopping and popped my new pyjamas into the wash. Not long after, my son got home, and I excitedly told him all about the pyjamas, the leggings, and the headphone experience. He, of course — a wiser man than me— already knows the power of noise-cancelling headphones. He wears his everywhere.

Dinner time came around, and honestly? It was a bit of a battle. I added cheese to my beans so that taking the D would have some fat to work with. I’ve done that a few times before, but always with a lot of guilt and “making up for it.” I hoped the dopamine boost from the headphones, leggings, and pyjamas would help carry me through. Here’s hoping.

Then came the final task of the day: downing that D like a joytoy on Jig Jig Street in Cyberpunk 2077. ACK. It really is swamp juice. The patient information leaflet says it tastes of olive oil — the one flavour I hate more than anything. Of course it does. At least I only have to take it twice a week.

Clippy had thoughts about it too — laughable thoughts, but loud all the same.

Clippy whispered, “What if it’s not even Vitamin D? What if it’s just straight-up oil? You had that blood test for ED reasons… what if they just prescribed high calorie oil to trick you?”

I’m refusing to listen to this absolute idiocy, and I’m also refusing to enter “Unknown Swamp Juice” on MyFitnessPal, thank you very much. I’m taking the D, and Clippy can take the L.

I just really hope, after all this, it helps. Unlike the Vitamin D I’ve been taking every single day, which clearly wasn’t doing much of anything. Maybe I’ll start to feel better. Maybe I’ll feel more like myself. Maybe I’ll have less pain in my bones, be less tired — and, most importantly, less depressed. It’s come at a good time, too, because we’re approaching Cluster Headache season.

My cluster headache episodes happen twice a year — both times when the clocks change, and the first one is this Sunday. There’s some anecdotal evidence that overloading Vitamin D can help prevent or stop the attacks. I guess I’m about to test that hypothesis myself, being prescribed 25,000 IU of Vitamin D during a cluster period. That would be an amazing bonus. There is absolutely nothing more painful than cluster headaches — and I include everything I suffer with mentally in that.

Time to Chill

Now, I’m back chilling in my spot on the sofa, typing away on my stunning Epomaker keyboard, hugging Pesto the penguin, drinking a hot chocolate, listening to the Phantom Liberty soundtrack, smelling a beautiful wax melt in my cosy, string-light-lit living room — my son next to me reading his book — I’m decompressing from taking the biggest D known to man.

I faced the taste of olive oil without crying (barely). I bought dopamine in the form of leggings and pyjamas to help me steer through the storm that is putting cheese in beans. It’s not a cure, but it’s a win. And right now, I’ll take the wins — no matter how small or swamp-flavoured they are.

What I’m currently listening to :-