“I am here, and alive to my life, although not feeling 100%; but still smiling. I love my friends. I love the fact that I love my friends. Someone, yesterday, called me the most honourable and honest person, and I love them for it, even if I can’t quite believe it.”
There, that little mantra should keep me thinking right today. A mantra a day keeps the nutcase away. My inner nutcase is trying to come and sit on my knee at the moment but I won’t let her. She smells funny and wears stupid clothes and is insanely negative and has a really ugly roll of fat around the middle, plus bingo wings and varicose veins. She’s heavy. She wriggles and pokes me and talks while I’m trying to read. I don’t hate her, but I wish she would SOD OFF and go watch ‘enders while I’m trying to move on to more important matters.
Working in the pub again; mainly because I equals skint and there’s no other easily obtainable money to be had round here that doesn’t involve petty (or not so petty) larceny. Enjoying it; and also interested to note that my anxiety levels have dropped yet again (hah – I equals not caring a fig, apparently). Useful. More relaxing, certainly. I hate anxiety. It saps me and makes my tummy go all squirty.
Having to let go of certain things – or people, actually. Harsh. Perhaps unneccessary. However. I need to be around people who are less mental than me at present. I need the normality of people who actually see depression as something other people get. It gives me a yardstick and an aspirational point. Many would see me as abandoning the sisterhood of pain or something. I don’t care. If you’re drowning, you don’t cling onto the man drowning next to you, you get hold of a log. Simple survival tactic. People who’ve been there, who are there and are dealing, no problem. People who have immersed themselves and created a reality where this twisted, egocentric view of the world is their new normalcy – no way. I don’t want to sit around in some emotional circle-jerk while John Denver softly plays in the background, commiserating with other loonies and telling loony stories and dooing loony one-upmanship and counting the scars. No. I’m going to get on with my life, go to therapy and keep taking the pills. The clouds will lift someday.
Even better is when you find people who have been through what you’re in now, and have come out on the other side, and have a sense of where the guideposts are in the territory you’re crossing. There are such people out there, and they can be really helpful over the rough spots. I share your impatience with misery addicts, who seem to revel in staying stuck.
Hell yeah! *punches the air and does a little dance*
Victimhood doesn’t suit either of us, and I applaud all the sensible and strong steps you mention above.
Tell your inner nutcase that she can go over there into that corner and keep my inner nutcase company; she has been banished, and they can bemoan their supposed ugliness together, leaving us free to get on with it.
Ladies! Unfortunately, your respective inner nutcases have shown up at my place. I’d appreciate it if you could have them collected – not only have they let mine out of her cage in the cellar, but the three of them are drinking all the gin. (Jesus H. Today SUCKED.)
Hey FP! Whassup!!? I’ll email you xxx
Hi P,
It’s been while! Sorry you’re under the weather….that’s tough. Sometimes the brain pain is worse than the physical pain. You will make it through. I know it.
I may be coming to London for a little adventure with my daughter this summer. She’s going to be 14 this year – she still likes me and I want to take advantage of this before the teenager brain fairy comes and ruins it all! I’m looking to book hotels, but not sure of the best area to stay – do you have any suggestions? Something close to cool cafes, shopping, and easy access to the tube for sightseeing!
Hang in there! If you want to vent, let me know … sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone who hardly knows you, as weird as that may seem!