Tag: Depression

Posted in Some thoughts about my journey

What if?

Posted on by WeeGee

My granny used to have a saying that went something like this: ‘if it’s for you, it won’t go past you’. It’s one of those things you seem to have say to people when they have a broken heart, as if words can really take that away and make it all better. Plenty more fish in the sea and all that….

I have a broken heart. My broken heart is a big part of my broken brain. When people say it’s all in my head, I can at least challenge them, because some of it is in my heart, rather than in my head.

I’m told I care too much. Does anybody know what that means? Is it even possible? I tend to look at things in opposites – so I care too much and the opposite is not caring enough. In light of that I don’t accept that I’m doing it wrong. I know where I want to be.

The what if is what if you had what was for you, and it went past you because you were mental?

What if you left behind who you were and the things you could be just because the person who made you all those things couldn’t live with the mental?

What if your brain went wrong and what was for you did go past you? What then?

A confused and unhappy WeeGee xx

Posted in Some thoughts about my journey

Mixed up things

Posted on by WeeGee

If I knew where to start with this post it would probably have a better opening line. But I don’t know where to start, so that’s as good as it gets. Sorry.

Before I go any further, I should probably say (for the benefit of my British readers) the only thing that British people have said to one another for days now – WHAT IS IT WITH THIS WEATHER?* On reflection, that might have been a better opening line….

Before I go even further, I should definitely say that this is not going to be a nice organised, beginning middle and end kind of post. I’m just going to open up my brain and spill it out for your reading enjoyment. Who was it that said “you’ll like this but not a lot”? Oh yes, it was Phil Daniels (ageing magician not ageing mod). Anyway – what he said. Definitely not a better opening line.

It’s all got a bit mixed up in WeeGee land. Everything’s jumbled up and messy and I don’t know what to feel about anything. There’s probably going to be a me shaped explosion some time very soon** I suppose a mixed up exploding brain is the price I’m going to pay for all that thinking I was talking about in my last post. Note to self: do not think. Ever again.

For a start, my brain is a bit mixed up. It can’t seem to decide whether it’s flat and empty, a bit jittery, full of the horrors, or contemplating jumping my body off a tall building. If I knew which one it was going to do from day to day I could make a plan, but it’s a bit of a moveable feast right now and the plans aren’t working. It’s becoming a bit tedious to be honest.

Then there’s work which is possibly the most mixed up thing of all. Work is my refuge: it’s the only normal thing left, I swear to god. Except it’s not normal anymore – I’ve got three huge projects*** some particularly unhelpful colleagues and one specific senior colleague who is paid double what I am but appears to need me to do her job for her. I don’t say that in a big headed kind of way, but I can’t say too much more not least because I wrote the ‘Acceptable Use of Social Media Policy’ and it would therefore be a bit embarrassing if I was to fall foul of it.

Then there’s my heart which has gone massively wrong. I know that the heart is just a muscle, but I hope you will know what I mean and forgive the scientific inaccuracy. For ages I’ve been walking around with all the nonsense in my head and consoling myself with the part of my heart that had a little flag pinned to it which said ‘last hope for WeeGee’. Well now, my last hope ‘gone done’ a bunk. So now what? Is it just broken brain all the way?

Finally there’s the other part of my heart which ‘cares too much’, is ‘too kind’ and which ‘takes everything to heart’. As far as I can tell, these are the things that people say to you when they’ve been shitty to you but they want to make it your fault. Nevertheless apparently I’m doing it wrong again so I’ve got yet more stuff to figure out even though I was mixed up enough to start with….

In conclusion? Pfft.

WeeGee xx

*For those of you not in the UK – there’s some kind of apocalyptic rain thing going on. And I have to mention it because I’m British and talking about the weather is in my genes.

**When it comes I hope a)It doesn’t make a mess because I can’t stand a mess and b)that it doesn’t frighten the cat because he’s skittish at the best of times

***Three big projects being two too many even if you’re not mental.

Posted in Welcome to my world

I am disappeared

Posted on by WeeGee

Before anybody points it out, I know that the title of this post is something of a grammatical car-crash. In my defence I didn’t make it up – it’s the title of a song I’ve been listening to a lot recently. If you have any problems with the grammar, please take them up with Frank Turner (but do be aware that I am a little bit in love with him and will certainly fight to the death to defend his honour…..)

One of my friends pointed out that I’ve ‘gone dark’ over the past week or so. I think he might be right because as far as everything is concerned at the moment, I’d be equally happy with taking it or leaving it. Nothing seems to matter.

I know I’m in a bad place because the following three things have taken place over the past couple of days:

  • I almost left the house wearing underwear that didn’t match. That’s a big deal, not because of being run over by buses, but because I’m a firm believer that if things are capable of matching they should. Matching underwear is absolutely critical to my sense of self
  • I actually left the house with chipped nail varnish. That’s an even bigger deal because I never, ever do that. I’ve had painted nails every day of my life since 1995 and my nails are always immaculate when I’m in public. Even when I’m in full on nutter mode.
  • Mr Friendly offered a chat to cheer me up and I said no. This is unheard of for so many long and complicated reasons that I won’t go into them here, but If I can’t even be bothered to speak to him there isn’t much hope left.

Anyway. The good thing is that I’m not in hiding. The bad news is that I just don’t feel like talking to anybody or doing anything. There’s nothing in my head and I’m really struggling to find anything that I still care about – what’s the point of talking to people when there’s nothing in your head and you can’t find anything to care about? It doesn’t really leave you with a lot to say.

Throughout the ups and downs of being Wee Gee there’s always been something for me to hold on to – books, politics, justice, music, Mr Friendly – it has always seemed to me that when I can’t care about myself I can at least find things in the external world to care about. Now it just feels like everything has finally gone. It didn’t happen overnight, but slowly and surely things departed until I wound up here trying to figure out what fills the hole now everything has disappeared.

In some ways, I feel like this is what I’ve been working towards my whole life. Other people get married and have kids; Wee Gee makes everything so small that the future is little more than a robotic march through the motions for no other reason than that’s what being alive is all about: a series of pointless and unnecessary motions that  you put yourself through day in, day out. Boo to everything!

I think this post might be what you call navel gazing; it’s certainly self-indulgent, I know that. I’ve been trying to find a way to say all of this in a light hearted, amusing way, but there isn’t anything funny about it.

It’s either that, or my sense of humour has left the building along with everything else. Oh bums.

Wee (hoping that tomorrow is better) Gee xx

PS – I have at least a million blogs to catch up with and I do care about that, even though I think I don’t so I’ll try and get to them tonight.

Posted in About today

A proper post

Posted on by WeeGee

I’m sorry that I haven’t written a proper post for a while. It hasn’t been for the want of trying, it’s just that every time I sat down to write everything went and fell out my head, or at least everything that was left after flat and empty had taken up the ridiculous amount of space they seem to require at the moment.

It’s been a funny few days (funny peculiar not funny ha ha). My brain seems to be settling into a new routine which is essentially two reasonable days followed by an absolute shocker. I’m taking this as a positive because it’s better than three straight shockers, right?

I was on annual leave on Friday. I’d had it booked for ages, but by the time it came around I couldn’t actually remember why. Still, it worked out okay in the end because I got to watch most of the tennis on a proper TV* and I didn’t have to take any time out of a working day to visit Mr Clever, the psychiatrist. I haven’t mentioned Mr Clever yet, have I? We have a love hate relationship…. No actually, scrub that we have a hate relationship insofar as that I hate him. I hate him primarily because he wears a bow tie, which may be irrational, but then I am talking about my psychiatrist here. When I first met him, I tried to give him the benefit of the doubt by thinking that he was wearing it in an ironic way, but he definitely isn’t. Mr Clever is a real life actual person who wears a bow tie to work every day and it tells me something about him that I don’t like. At this point I apologise for any offence caused to bow tie wearers, but seriously – what is it all about? Anyway, as far as I can tell I have to pole up at Mr Clever’s office at regular intervals to confirm in person that I haven’t topped myself yet. It’s an easy enough duty to fulfil, particularly given that I quite like hospitals. On another positive note he doesn’t ask me to tell him ‘how I feel about that’ which is a sure fire way to make me giggle because it reminds me of an episode of Monk.

I spent Friday evening in the pub** watching tennis on an iPad because the pub’s TV was broken***. It was good fun and it reminded me of how far I’ve actually come with some things in the last year. This time last year I couldn’t watch Wimbledon without thinking about jumping off a tall building, because it brought back some unhappy memories of happier times and because I was heartbroken and mental. I’ve hardly thought about any of those (un)happy times this year which must prove that the memories are dealt with and that I’m just plain old fashioned mental now. I think I like it better this way.

Saturday was a day of high excitement in the Wee Gee household because Alan the Ocado man brought my groceries. This is the most boring story I’ve told yet on my blog but I’m going to plough on and tell it anyway…. At the beginning of each month I do a massive online shop and fill up all my cupboards and my larder**** and then I spend a few hours unpacking it and organising the cupboards/larder. That’s the story. The reason I mention it is that it is an important event on the ‘looking after Wee Gee calendar’ because it means that all the ingredients for the ‘looking after Wee Gee meal plan’ are in the flat and all I need to do is make sure I make it to the supermarket once a week to stock up on fresh fruit and vegetables. It sets me up for the month ahead, and I always feel organised and in control on Ocado man Saturday. I told you it was boring!

Once the shopping was unpacked I spent some time learning how to draw a bird, and then had a pleasant afternoon wandering down by the river with my thoughts – it was nice to be with myself without driving myself mad. Saturday evening was a tense affair what with the tennis and all. I was glad that Murray won even if I do hate him. I hate Andy Murray because he is sullen and belligerent which I guess is a better reason for hating someone than the fact that they wear a bow tie!

And then came Sunday which was the shocker in the pack. My mood was back to flat and empty and I couldn’t bring myself to care about anything – I had deserted myself. Needless to say I spent Sunday following the well rehearsed routine aimed at keeping Wee Gee away from the cliff edge. I don’t need to go into details here, but I mostly approached Sunday in increments. Increments works quite well for me on occasion, and really just means I try to have a ‘normal’ day interjected with periods of hiding. As you can probably tell, given that I’m writing this, I weathered the storm and arrived at Monday intact.

The only significant thing to report about Monday is that I started the 10,000 steps challenge today. By way of background, about two months ago I decided to get involved in a challenge whereby I have to take at least 10,000 steps every day for six weeks and fundraise for Mind at the same time. Looking back it seems clear that I was in a Citalopram induced fit of enthusiasm when I signed up. Nevertheless I’m signed up now so I have to go through with it and I intend to do my best to raise the modest sum of one hundred smackers for Mind. There are two potential difficulties with this. The first is the very real prospect that I go into hiding during the challenge. I do a lot of pacing when I’m in hiding but I can’t imagine that I do 10,000 steps worth of pacing. The second is that no-one sponsors me, which would be awful not least because it would just confirm my suspicions that everybody I know actually hates me. On both points I’m just going to have to wait and see and cross the bridges as I come to them.

Meanwhile in other news work is still a bit shit and the Man Who Know is still alive and that’s all I have to say about that. Nothing further to add today save that Mr Hilarious is back after a leave of absence and I didn’t realise how much I missed him until he came back.

Take care, Wee Gee.

*As opposed to on my PC at work or on an iPad

**But not in a boozy way

***No, I don’t know why we didn’t think to move to a different pub either

****I say larder, but I really just mean a part of my wardrobe that doesn’t have clothes in. My kitchen is tiny.

Posted in Welcome to my world

A post about nothing followed by a lame joke

Posted on by WeeGee

I hope you won’t mind but I really need to get this out of my head. I’ve been swimming around in it for a few days now and I’m tired. Before I go any further I should say that this is a post about suicidal feelings. Reading about suicidal feelings isn’t everybody’s cup of tea so you may prefer to sit this one out.

Let me be frank* I wish I was dead but, just to muddy the waters, I also don’t want to wind up dead. Makes perfect sense, eh?

For a very long time I’ve had a strong feeling that I’m not going to live to be an old person. I don’t know where it comes from or when it started I just know that it’s there and that it sits in my head. It’s one of the many things on the list of things that Wee Gee will never do for one reason or another**. I mentioned it to Mr Friendly once but he just thought it was a) sad and b) silly. It’s one of those residual feelings that never really goes away. And then I have a few days like the few days just past and it becomes clear to me that it isn’t silly at all because the longer I live, the more likely it is that I won’t live to be an old person. And yes, I know that statement makes no sense whatsoever except in my head.

I don’t often think about suicide – I sometimes go to bed willing myself not to wake up, but that’s a different thing altogether – and I don’t make plans to take my own life. By all accounts that should mean that everything is fine and dandy but it doesn’t.

The thing is it doesn’t matter that I don’t think about it, plan to do it, or want to do it; what matters is that once in a while I just snap and decide to try and do it. Thus far I have always been okay but one of these days I’m going to wake up dead and to say that would be an unmitigated disaster is something of an understatement.

Saturday was one of those days. It was a day of nothing – you know the days when nothing matters, nothing makes sense and everything feels like nothing? Nothing is the thing that I struggle to deal with the most of all – it’s unspeakably heavy and just as loud. Nothing is the reason that I do so many of the things I do to hurt myself and is the thing that sends me into hiding. Some people seem to think that having nothing on your mind is a good thing, but I wonder if those people really understand what nothing feels like? Waking up in the morning to find that everything that was your head yesterday – the little plans, the promises you make to yourself, the things you like, the stuff you care about – has fallen into a giant hole of nothingness taking you with it is no fun at all.

I’ve tried very hard to work out where nothing comes from and what happens to make it rise up and take over but I just can’t figure it out. Sometimes I think there must be a little chink of nothing at the heart of me that has to come up for air every so often, that I’m simply built around nothing and that I am empty at my core even if I pretend not to be. That’s when I jump off the cliff because I might get well enough to get out of bed without thinking about it, to banish the maddies, the jitters, fanatical food stuff and all the other crazy nonsense but I’ll never get well enough to fill the nothing up and it’s the nothing I can’t live with.

I don’t know when or why nothing is going to strike which makes it hard to go about keeping myself as safe. I’ve got my safety plan and I try to follow it to the letter but, in the grip of nothing I find it quite easy to stray from the plan and end up in all kinds of trouble. Bottom line of all this is that I’m mostly terrified of myself which is absolutely exhausting. I’m afraid I’m going to go and do something that I won’t live to regret without even meaning to do it.

Phew. It’s all getting a bit heavy here. Somebody should tell a joke…… Okay, I’ll do it: Q What’s invisible and smells of carrots? A. Rabbit farts. Boom boom {hangs head in shame}

Meanwhile in other news I slept right through until 6am this morning and I worked out that I spend about £300 a year on purchasing beverages from the coffee bar at work today. Nothing further to add save that I did squeeze a couple of asterisks in, so things must be looking up despite the rather gloomy nature of this post.  Oh. And I’m writing this in my lunch hour at FOUR O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON.

Sorry about this one folks – the next will be better, promise.

Take care, Wee Gee x

 

*Whenever someone says that I can’t resist saying ‘okay… who shall I be’?

**Other things on the list of things Wee Gee will never do: get married, have children, understand why anyone would voluntarily eat a mushroom

Posted in About today

Down with the kids

Posted on by WeeGee

I’m a little lacking in inspiration today. Truth told, I’ve been a little bit lacking in inspiration all weekend which is why I’ve had nothing to say for myself. Everything’s feeling flat and empty for me at the moment, like someone stole my brain and replaced it with cotton wool. I bet you can’t wait to read this one.

What can I tell you about this weekend then? I have continued to wake up at ridiculous o’clock, in fact, I’ve now seen 4am 4 days running. Sadly I haven’t been leading the kind of rock ‘n roll life that statement might imply – it’s more a case of being up with the mentals than being down with the kids. How life changes…. The thing about four o’clock in the morning is that there isn’t actually anything to do. I guess that’s why most people have the good sense to be asleep. Still, to put a positive spin on it I have used the time wisely and read the Internet. All of it.

Who knows what this waking up at ridiculous o’clock is all about. I guess it must be the medication which is also causing me to have some particularly vivid dreams – I feel like it really happened, and it’s mundane enough to have really happened so at the moment I have this odd sensation that I can’t be sure what actually happened. Does that make sense? Anyway, as far as I can tell I appear to be achieving a whole new level of dementedness that I didn’t even know existed.

Did I mention that the jitters have mostly passed? Well they have. The only time I ‘go a bit weird’ now is when someone creeps up on me, which happens reasonably often. It’s not that people are in the habit of deliberately creeping up on me, it’s just that I work in a very long office with my back to the door so people often appear without me noticing them on the approach. And then I jump right out of my skin and squeal in a comedy fashion. Nevertheless I’m glad to be mostly rid of the jitters  – I find that being flat and empty is much easier to manage than all that bonkers jittery stuff.

Saturday was a gruesome day for me. I spent the evening teetering on the edge of the cliff thinking about jumping off. I think my brain is trying to murder me which is a royal pain in the backside because I don’t especially want to be dead. Gawd only knows what I’ve done to deserve this from something which, by rights, should be fairly attached to the idea of me not being dead but there you go. The main point is that I didn’t wake up dead on Sunday so I make that Wee Gee: 1 Brain: 0. Round two will doubtless follow at an unspecified interval. Pah!

Sunday was about putting things back together after Saturday, buying a replacement hairdryer after my existing went pop and started making a horrid burning smell and watching a soccerball match that I didn’t care about because a) I’m Scottish and b) I just didn’t.

It’s Monday today and Project Rubbish has kicked off in more ways than one. Turns out The Man Who Knows is not the project sponsor and he does not like it one bit, primarily because he is The Man Who Knows who knows everything about everything. He’s sulking and refusing to talk to anyone at the moment which makes this whole working together thing difficult to achieve. What a giant arsehole. He is so getting a poke in the eye some time soon.

Meanwhile in other news I think somebody lied to me on Saturday – a pause before an answer and then a comment later on that didn’t stack up. This person had no reason to lie to me and, more to the point, I have no reason to care that they lied to me but they did lie and I do care which means I have to work out how I feel about it. I hate having to work out how I feel about stuff.

I’ve nothing further to add today save that I haven’t included a single asterisk in my post which is a shame. I’ve tried to remedy it, I really have, but I’m coming up with zilch. I guess that’s just the kind of day it is today.

Tatty bye

Wee Gee x

Posted in About today

This is really happening, isn’t it?

Posted on by WeeGee

I don’t really like Radiohead anymore – I lost interest somewhere around OK Computer – but I do really like this song. I think it sounds like how I feel a lot of the time:

The line in the song that goes ‘this is really happening’ is a notion that strikes me every now and then, usually in the wee small hours when I can’t sleep and there’s nowhere to hide from all the things that are happening in my head. Sometimes I feel incredulous about it all because how very dare this be happening in my head, but most of the time I feel frightened because this is really happening and what if I can’t figure out how to make it quieten down again?

I had 11 whole years when I didn’t have to struggle very hard with myself. I had to struggle a little bit because I don’t think the voices* ever go away you just get better at answering them back, or ignoring them, or both. I think of my difficulties as a dark passenger** because they are always there at my side. I’ve carried my dark passenger everywhere I’ve ever been – sometimes it’s heavy and sometimes it isn’t so heavy; sometimes it’s almost silent and sometimes it’s very, very loud; sometimes it looks out the window as we travel and sometimes it takes over the driving.

For the past year or so my dark passenger has been in the driving seat and I’ve had to struggle very hard with myself. Compared to the 11 years where I wasn’t struggling much, the past year feels like it’s lasted for a lifetime. Sometimes, I get sick and tired of it all and I just wish that all the nonsense would disappear out of my head. Other times, I remember that it will never disappear completely and so I start to wonder what the point of struggling very hard with yourself just so you don’t have to struggle very hard with yourself is. Right now is one of those other times.

Today I feel a bit small and insignificant and, above all else, frightened. I’m wondering what would happen if I just stopped struggling and gave my brain over to the darkness. I don’t much like being in the dark, but I can’t help thinking it’d probably be a little easier on me.

Still, tomorrow I’ll be all brave again. Thoughts pass eventually because that is their way.

Wee Gee x

 

 

*I should point out to you that over the years I have learned that you need to be very careful when you’re talking about the ‘voices in your head’.

**If anyone watches Dexter, mine is not at all like that dark passenger – just for the avoidance of doubt!

Posted in Little things that made me smile

That joke isn’t funny anymore

Posted on by WeeGee

First up, I love the Smiths. So here are the Smiths singing ‘That joke isn’t funny anymore*’

I’m not an earnest person. In fact I’m probably whatever the opposite of earnest is. I don’t take anything particularly seriously, which by the way, is not to say that I’m irresponsible or feckless**.

I laugh a lot (more often than not at myself), I poke a lot of fun at things (again, more often than  not at myself) and I tell a lot of jokes – not knock-knock, boom-boom type jokes though; I always mess the punch lines of those up. I like funny things – not necessarily shiny-happy-people funny things, but funny things nonetheless***. Maybe that doesn’t sound like somebody who suffers from depression, but I’m yet to find the rule that says somebody with a mental health problem has to have a compulsory sense of humour bypass.

I often make a joke of my mental health difficulties because they are quite heavy enough without me adding a ten tonne weight by being oh-so-serious about them. That’s not to say I don’t know that they’re serious, or that  I think it’s funny being me: they are and it isn’t – I think I try to use humour  to get a bit of perspective when it feels like the sky is falling in. To be honest, I think laughing at myself might just have saved my life, so, in celebration of that fact, I’m going to end  this post by telling you something that I thought was funny…..

Last night I was having a ‘bit of a moment’. I knew I was heading for trouble because I started doing the whole pacing/curling up in  a ball thing. Thankfully I was mindful. I tried to find somewhere to put the thoughts, but the ‘shelf of stuff Wee Gee can’t think about’ was full so I decided to distract myself with something positive by writing a list of ‘all the reasons Wee Gee has to be cheerful’. In reality, there are a few reasons for me to be cheerful but last night the single solitary thing that I could think of to put on my list was:

“I don’t have one of those stupid Jimmy Hill moon shaped chins”

Why on earth did I think of that?! Where did it even come from?! It’s not as though I’ve anything against people with moon shaped chins by the way…..

Anyway.  I gave up making the list and I didn’t do any more of that pacing/curling up in a ball thing.

Take care, Wee Gee x

*Granted, it isn’t the most cheery song in the world, even by the Smiths’ standards, but it is at least marginally more chipper than ‘Last night I dreamed somebody loved me’ and ‘I know it’s over’….

**All of the time

***I like to think I am witty and rye**** but I might just be sarcastic and sneering.

****Of course I meant wry. I was just testing you there. Ahem 😉

Posted in About today

I did not see that one coming

Posted on by WeeGee

Okay, so the first thing I should say is that this post discusses self harm. If you think that might put you in a dangerous place please look away now, because it’s important to everybody that everybody stays safe.

{Pause to allow people to look away now}*

The second thing to say is that I’m currently on step number three of the safety plan**. I used to have three ‘real’ people I could communicate with if I thought I was in a risky situation: Mr Wise, Mr Hilarious and Mr Friendly, but now I’ve added my blog to the list of ‘people it is safe to communicate with’. The aforementioned Mr’s*** are otherwise engaged, and (as daft as it sounds) I’m not in the right place for crisis intervention so I’m writing this post in an attempt to communicate all this crazy stuff out of my head.

{Pause for a few deep breaths}

Here’s what happened. I sat down to write a post (it’s a funny story about me at a party so I’ll probably get round to posting it another time) and then I had a nosebleed. A proper, massive, wouldn’t stop nosebleed.

I don’t think I’ve had a proper, massive, wouldn’t stop nosebleed since I was about twelve years old and although I know it should have been a tad distressing, I actually really liked it. I liked it because all that bright red blood on a white tissue felt like the most sensible, meaningful thing on earth and I thought to myself that if my nose stops bleeding there would still be lots of other ways to get back to the most sensible and meaningful thing on earth.

I haven’t cut myself since last November. I didn’t really remember doing it but the evidence suggested that I made a pretty serious attempt to actually cut one of my legs off. To be fair, that was an isolated incident and it’s a very long time since each morning has been about working out what I’d done the day before with reference to the bloody rags and sharp implements scattered around me. I was in an awful, painful place, I have some pretty hideous scars and would do anything, anything, anything to go back in time and make it not happen. So why should it make any sense whatsoever to think that slicing myself open and watching the blood ooze out is the answer to a question that I haven’t even worked out yet?

Nowadays, I tend to work on the assumption that I am a grown up, and that I have therefore found grown up, subtle ways to hurt myself. As if that’s some kind of achievement! I know it’s a load of blinking rubbish, because most grown-ups don’t spend any time what-so-bloody-ever thinking about hurting themselves. What’s this thing about hurting myself even more than I’m already hurting? What’s this thing about bright red blood on white tissues? Roar, roar and triple roar. Can I start again please?

I’m sorry if this one is a bit rambling, but it was more about getting thoughts out of my brain than achieving a coherent post…..

Meanwhile in other news I have managed three meals and a trip to the outside world today, and my cat has just about got used to the new voile panel in our flat. Oh. And I went to a party yesterday.

Take care, Wee Gee x

*I hope you won’t think I’m being flippant because I’m really not – it’s just my way.

**At the moment my number one mission in life is to be well enough to be able to cope without a safety plan.

***I know perfectly well that Mr’s is not an ideal use of the apostrophe, but according to the OED style guide it is acceptable to use an apostrophe to ensure clarity of meaning. If I’d put Mrs it would have looked like I meant a married lady person, rather than the plural of Mr. (What can I say? I’m the grammar police so I’m getting my alibi in early….)

Posted in About today

Wrong again, Wee Gee

Posted on by WeeGee

I’m not okay at the moment, and I know I’m not okay because I am doing a very good job of pretending to be okay. It seems to me that the less okay I am, the better I get at pretending to be okay and I think this might be yet another way that my brain has found of doing exactly the opposite of what’s expected of it. Pah!

On the surface, I suppose things aren’t too bad. I’m eating enough and sleeping enough to mean that I only need to apply a half tonne of blusher before I can leave the flat without fear of frightening small children; the bills are paid and the post is being opened; there are groceries in the fridge; I’m keeping appointments and taking my meds; I’m clean and my flat’s clean; I’ve done nothing to hurt myself for a few weeks; I’m sober. But inside, it’s all just wrong. I really can’t think of a better way to put it – wrong pretty much covers it. I’ve tried explaining ‘wrong’ to all kinds of people before – friends, family, doctors, counsellors and once a bloke I met in a pub* – but people don’t seem to be able to get it. They want to know ‘what’s’ wrong and all I can say is that ‘it’s just wrong’.

Apart from feeling wrong I’m still a jumpy, jittery mess and I don’t like being jumpy and jittery. It’s the opposite of what being me is usually like and I feel kind of dangerous with it. Feeling like you want to smash your whole world up is manageable when all you have the energy to do is lie face down on the bed, but when you’re wired and full of restlessness you begin to be afraid of what you’ll do next. Energy and thoughts of flinging yourself under a bus really don’t mix too well together, do they? Does that make any sense at all? Or have I gone ‘wrong’ again?!

If I’m honest there’s also whole lot of stuff that I need to work out – how I feel about some stuff and what I’m going to do about some other stuff – but I can’t seem to work any of it out with the world continuing apace around me. A bit of a breather would be just super right now, so if anybody out there has worked out a magic way of making the world stop for a little while, I’d be forever grateful if you could let me know. In the meantime I’m going to listen to Belle and Sebastian singing about stopping the world, because I want to and because I can…..

Lots of love from (a slightly overwhelmed and tired) Wee Gee x

*It wasn’t one of my finest hours