*Trigger Warning* Before continuing, please note, this post contains some emotional content and discussion of suicidal ideation and self-harm behaviour which can be a potential trigger
I’m having a shit few weeks.
Hence why I haven’t posted in a while.
It’s been a series of difficult events and emotions so intense that I would rather cut myself and attempt to rip my skin off than sit with them.
I’ve tried to write many times in these past two months, but I just haven’t been able to put together words that made much sense. I’ve tried and failed to write not only blog posts but also in response to dear friends, and about my condition in application forms (I’m trying to get financial help to pay for private treatment). I’ve even tried and failed to write my own suicide note; “Dear loved ones, I’m sorry I can’t even bring myself together long enough to write a nice last note from me to you, but well I’m sure you’re not surprised…”. I feel like I really suck at life at the moment.
It’s painful, I hate this. Who wouldn’t?! A voice in my head mocks me and calls me ‘flaky’ every time I fail to do something I actually want to do (which is every day). Even though I tell myself not to listen to her, I can’t help it; I fall for her words, I believe them.
I’ve been called flaky before, by a manager at my last job, simply because I wanted to quit, and that’s something that really stayed with me and occasionally replays in my head. I think I’ve come to terms with that; I disagree with the reasons for why I was told I was flaky – damn it, I worked really hard for that company, being called flaky was uncalled for – but I stayed to prove her wrong and eventually broke down whilst walking away from another day in the office. Maybe if I had walked away when I originally wanted to, things would’ve turned out differently. Maybe right now I wouldn’t have a voice that tells me I’m ‘flaky’. Oh how I wish time travel existed.
This voice is just a small piece of the puzzle that is my mental health. There are other voices, and a “Scary Lady” too (I think she’s a hallucination or delusion or both), and severe anxiety and emotions that are trying to suffocate me, plus a good chunk of paranoia and an inability to cope with any tiny little change or social interaction. Voila! We have the recipe for a pretty angry, confused, vulnerable, needy and dependent person.
So it’s been a shit(ter) two months, but things are starting to improve, slowly but they are. First of all, my long term psychotherapy treatment kicks off this week, I finally have a psychiatrist (fought long and hard for that one!), I found a good yoga studio near me so will be properly getting into some yoga, and I’m on a good path with my medication; I have new drugs but I’m now getting a few hours of undisturbed sleep and still managing to get out of bed (most days I just manage to move from my bed to the sofa but I make it out of bed damn it *little victory dance*)
And Hey! I’ve managed to write a blog post. It’s Friday the 13th and I’ve managed to produce a written something for the first time in two months. That’s my big victory for this week. Boom!