Sweet escape

Can I be both better and worse in the same moment…? Or is that yet another facet of illness in itself? I feel pretty great; most of the time. But there have been some reckless actions and some out of character moves that I am trying not to wonder too much about and also short pockets of desolate misery, is it better that they are short episodes or worse because they are frequent?

I’ve learnt recently, perhaps belatedly, that many of the feelings and actions that I have considered illness are not necessarily exclusive to me… That some of the things about myself, my actions, my feelings that I fret most vehemently about are in fact things that the majority of adults go through; the only difference is that they take it as another part of life and move through it, either with difficulty or fairly easily, I do not. I dwell, I dissect, I analyse and conclude before I move forward… in fact, even after moving forward I tend to eventually move back at some point and do it all over again.

I’ve made a silent deal with myself in the past few weeks. I am tired of negativity clouding my every day and so I have been looking for fun in every day; I have been putting myself forward for things that scare me and barrelling through them anyway; I haven’t faced every element of the things that frighten me but I am working up to facing as much as possible and I am coming at life with a new perspective. I even caught myself enjoying an evening alone; never did I think to see the day where I am not mooning over my single state or craving some sort of positive re-enforcement from someone else… truthfully, now, I’m not sure where a perspective partner would fit into my life, nor the role they would take – and though that should, or previously, would scare me; I find it rather exciting now because whatever does come along eventually will be vastly different to anything that has gone before… and that is undoubtedly a good thing!

Life was definitely moving faster a few months ago, things have been left to slip but they’re working back up again. I can’t find any concern for the pace of things at the moment; the same pressures that were there before are still there now but they don’t seem to have the same effect on me as they might have before… everything feels more relaxed.

So even though I’m really not sure if this new-found positivity is real or a moment of illness and reckless abandonment of reality; I’m going to enjoy every second of it. I’m going to continue dancing and singing at every moment, I’m not going to stop myself from voicing that opinion or teasing that person… because whatever this is, it feels so good. Liberating. Long overdue. Desperately needed…


A series of stupidity

I’ve made a mess of things again; my life, my health – this is my cycle. Maybe this is how it will always be for me, gargantuan efforts to reach some form of function and then a spectacular explosion of mess, stress and negativity.

I have been stagnant too long that is my problem and yet in the normal course of the lives of other people I likely haven’t been dormant for a moment but the two weeks that the kids were off for the Christmas holidays threw me into lethargy and I am still trying to pry myself out from under the tinsel.

The kids school holidays are always difficult; I have spoken about it before and so really I should have learnt my lesson by now and had some form of survival plan in place but everything was so busy and manic before the holidays with socialising and working my two week placement, courses and job hunting, family events and all the other productive things I have been thrown into that I was quite looking forward to two weeks of quiet… I should have known that to allow myself a slight reprieve is to allow myself to fall back toward the abyss… it is too comfortable here in my hall of nothingness,  too safe lying close to my lethargy… and now I have made a mess of things again and I’m ignoring it and it is growing; as it always does – the pressure is building and so I’m running further… only this time I’m not talking to anyone because it feels like one fuck up too many and I can’t stand the looks and the obvious advice that I need to face these things that I am running from. Don’t you think I can see the solution? but the solution, however simple, makes me want to vomit; it is filled with that much stress for me. It is no longer just a phone call or a missed commitment or a poor decision, its grown because my mind has been feeding it. It plagues and mocks me for the incompetent slob that I am, it is too much.

I feel physically ill, sick to my stomach and in pain all the time but I know it is just a manifestation of the mental issues I am ignoring and that knowledge only serves to heighten the sickening feeling I have. I am tired, very tired.

I hate my doctor; never a good thing and a first for me. I don’t know if it is her personally that I cannot warm to or the knowledge that she is my 4th psychiatrist in a year and the 4th to have a different plan in which to treat me; perhaps it is nothing to do with her personally but to do with the fact that I cannot bear to work hard to implement yet another project to improve my mental health when soon it will be replaced with something entirely different by the next well-meaning doctor. I want consistency! I want a plan that works and nothing seems to and yet it does but not in the way in which I wish it too – a cure, a miracle, a new me, a new brain… For this to go away and not be me anymore. I crave a touch of normality…

Despite the mess I have made and the despondency of it all, I know, that as soon as life begins to move again and I find my feet in the functioning world once more then I will be fine; I will survive and my mask will hold firm once again… until then its one day at a time; one thing to be thankful for a day, one moment to make it worth the next breath and I will survive to fuck up another day.