After my breakdown, I eventually admitted I needed to relax. David would say, chilled day today. Then be on his way back out to work. I felt miles better than pushing myself to do things. And I learned to not compare myself to others. And ignore my mum's moods.
I watched the extras and directors commentary on my favourite dvds. And realised that I was going to have to wait for the dust to settle before I even thought about what came next.
But filling my time wasn't all that hard. I did some cleaning, seen Fred a lot, met pals in pub on Fri, and went for a jog. Just did normal run of the mill things like getting stuck into books, films and music.

I tried to draw but it was too intricate for someone who had a major major major mother of all breakdowns. I needed to start small but time was of the essence. And I didn't have the space either. I would feel guilty for "sitting around the house all day" when it was really me needing to rest.
I turned down the art therapy because I thought it was based at the hospital, and I didn't want to be reminded of being really ill. That's why I refused.