Numb, disconnected, I’m on the outside of the world, looking in, I feel like I don’t belong, like I’m out of place. I’m jaded, drained, exhausted, so, so tired, frustrated, angry, shame of who and what I am (though not ashamed of my depression!), hatred of myself, disoriented, intolerant, impatient, irrational, illogical, hopeless, hopelessness, pointless, useless, disinterested, uninterested, zero self-concept, loser, waster, failure, complete and utter failure, broken, out of control, drowning, falling, suffocating, being squeezed, the walls are closing in on me, the tracks are getting narrower and narrower, mess, clutter, rubble, so much mess, clutter, rubble, fuck up, car crash, train wreck, negative, dark, tearful, sitting, waiting for the end of the day, waiting for my LAST day, old, passive, can’t get a grip, can’t hold onto the reins of time, completely misunderstood, unknown, a stranger even to myself, fake, an act, a charade, locked-in, chained, anchored, weighed down, paralysed, the lights are on but no one’s home, alone, wasting my life, wasting away, I just want to let go, collapse, curl up into a ball, cry, close my eyes, sleep, I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough, I’ve had enough…
I want to get better, I know I can better, I know that I’m locked in but that there is a key, that I can get out of here, I know that it’s worth getting out of here, I know I can be helped, I know I can be fixed, I want to be fixed but I can’t imagine being ok, being normal, being fixed, I can’t imagine it, I can’t sense it, I want to walk but I’ve got no legs, I want to see but I’m blind, I want to hear but I’m deaf, I want to be alive but I’m dead – to all intents and purposes, I am dead – the chasm between where and what I am and where I wish I was, where I want to be, it’s too wide for me to bridge in my mind. I’m broken. BUT I know that I am ill, that I am suffering from and with a mental illness, I know that how I feel is a symptom, a manifestation, of my mental illness, that it is manufacturing a reality, a fake reality, and that when the illness is putting my genuine reality in front of my eyes, it is a magnified reality, it is painting the dark darker than it really is…
I was, on the whole, doing ok, much, much improved from my lowest point in 2001, though it has always been a rollercoaster ride. But now, the periods between my ups and downs are getting shorter, the drops are deeper, the dark is darker, the panic attacks are back…. all bad signs, alarms bells to which I shall respond by going to see my psychiatrist again.
Humpty Dumpty sat high on a beautiful wall, a wall of unlimited love, support, blessings, privileges, opportunities and promise, but Humpty Dumpty had a great fall and is now in a thousand pieces.
God, I need help to put Humpty Dumpty back together again!
PS A few hours after publishing this blog, someone emailed me to say that she was worried about me. I responded thus:
“Thanks for the email. I feel crappy but, as I alluded to in the blog, I know what it is, I’m rationalising it, I am going to go to my psychiatrist again. As long as I can rationalise how I’m feeling, however crappy I’m feeling, I’m not in a dangerous place. The problem comes when I can’t rationalise it, when I do confuse the irrational, fake outlook with the real one, but that’s not happening at the moment. I’ll edit my blog and drop that into it.”
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