Friday, 19 May 2017

Statues in faith

They gather throughout the day to observe. These worshippers look to the light, not in adoration but with the fervency of true faith. They know their time will come; they see it nearing as they stand, frozen and heedless of the life flowing around them. Here a pair of children play tag around the enraptured statues. There a man eats a sandwich, a sliver of tomato escaping as he walks. A small hand slips into an unguarded pocket and liberates a purse. Busy women navigate the clusters, slipping through the gaps and weaving around obstacles without hesitation. Still they stand, gazes turned upwards, waiting to hear their call.

There are two main factions - one facing east, the other to the west, a stark division that they select and adhere to through personal preference alone, yet no mere preference could motivate such loyalty. They all await their moment, somemore patiently than others, with certainty. There is a delay. Some lose faith in the light and walk away. Most express their frustration and remain in place until finally their time comes.

The light travels faster than sound and many watchers have already turned to follow the guidance they have been given down their new path before the audio re-inforces the longed for message:

"Passengers for Cheltenham Spa please make your way to Platform 3 where the delayed 18:47 Great Western Railway service is now boarding."

Wednesday, 3 May 2017

I'm sick

So yeah. The wall I hit was apparently a physical one. I'm sick, again. These bloody abscesses.

Thankfully, although relying on the drugs is doing not-pleasant things to me, the antibiotics may have caught it just early enough. It's been getting bigger for the last 48 hours and I was very worried, but suddenly realised that I'm comfortable even though I'm due to take a painkiller in an hour. That usually means the infection is no longer chowing at my flesh.

It should still hurt under pressure and will not deflate fast (and I'll probably feel like crap until the antibiotics are done) but it should not get any bigger now and I should be able to sleep tonight without the aid of medication.

We'll see.

Friday, 28 April 2017

Ok then

Life is ticking along. I've been very productive and putting in lots of effort at work all week. Today I hit a wall. I think it's just the limit of what I can reasonably achieve under the current conditions.

I haven't been exercising. I have been restricting calories but not necessarily eating healthily, so I'm still losing weight but I have to be more careful long term - nutrition is important!

I haven't been writing or creating but that's ok. I have been doing cryptic crosswords.

This weekend I will be relaxing and enjoying myself, going out with Gavin and being non-self-judgmental. Next weekend I will see how I feel and if it's feasible I will start a new painting.

The most important thing about this medication - I think - is that I no longer feel like I have to outperform myself every second of the day, and the release from that stress is phenomenal. I mentioned to my GP I still get surges of dread, but even those are fading.

I might be a normal person soon.

A

Tuesday, 25 April 2017

Hey there

I had two weeks off work and I've been taking happy pills now for a month.

I feel better.

Not great. I'm not in a position where I can claim I'm 100%. I'm still grieving for Dad. I'm still super stressed at work. I haven't written or painted anything for ages. I don't feel great.

But...

  • I've spent the last few days working on a long term strategy for my department
  • I've been hiking by myself and walked through fields of cows
  • I've cried - properly cried, not uncontrollable hysteria - for my loss
  • I've spent time with family
  • I've been sleeping well
  • I've rested.
That last one? That's the important one.

I saw a GP not long after my last but one post and I told him how I never felt like I could rest. When I wake up I'm exactly where I was when I went to sleep. I slept well, but it wasn't working. He gave me happy pills with a tiny side order of diazepam.

I took a diazepam that night and I remember waking the next day and knowing everything that had happened. As I thought through the things, I felt the burden of taking each of them back on. I had put them down overnight.

It wasn't much, but it was enough. It made the next few days (week) easier. Then I had a panic attack and took another diazepam. It got even better. The happy pills apparently haven't even kicked in yet, according to my latest GP visit, but the temporary aid from the diazepam is such a relief.

I've taken three in total and I'm functioning like a normal human being. 

I'm looking forward to the day when I am functioning at my peak. And then I'll hopefully be able to quit them and be awesome without the aid of drugs. Right now I'm happy to be this.

-A-

Friday, 31 March 2017

Do you believe in fairies?

Once upon a time there was a little girl who believed in fairies. She sang made up songs, danced where everyone could see her and was very happy.

As she grew up she learned that it is important to do good things for other people and so she listened to what other people wanted.

Other people wanted her to stop being so embarrassing. To stop being so spotty. To stop wearing a bra. To start wearing a bra. To lose weight, to gain weight, to not have a nipple outline on a cold day.

As she tried to make other people happy, she grew slowly more closed off and afraid of accidentally doing something to make people unhappy.

She found friends. Real friends, but she was still trying to make them happy, so she pretended. Some of the time.

She set out on her own and decided she would try to make herself happy too.

That worked for a while.

Then it really didn't work and making other people happy became all-consuming.

This story has a happy ending. The little girl had a crisis. A traumatic episode where everything was darkness and pain and other people finally started telling the truth about what was needed to make them happy and how far her responsibility went.

Some years later, she still has difficulty with that, but she has good friends and caring people around her.

She sings made up songs in front of people. She dances in the supermarket, where everyone can see her. And although she no longer believes in fairies, she really, *really* wants to.

She can be happy. Very, very soon.

Tuesday, 28 March 2017

Black hole rising

Stare into the coffee cup
Tendrils of steam stretch up
enchain you
Promise you sweet life, energy and release

As you are drawn in the steam thickens
Chokes
Darkens
Solidifies
Stretching up
Squeezing in
Through ears, nostrils, eyeballs
All those little crevices
to pull you down
Out of your self
Into the murky depths

Drink it
It will make you feel better
It will
Trust it

You are OK
If you drink it
And carry on

Wednesday, 22 March 2017

I'm unhappy.

I'm doing everything. Everything that might need doing. Apart from sorting out the shares situation. Other than that, I'm being more productive than you might think possible. And then I stop and the voice inside starts screaming into the abyss and if I don't start again it becomes unbearable. So I start and go and go and go until I can't and then the screaming starts and I have to keep going to get away and I can't

I just can't

It should be so easy. How hard can it be to stop? But there's no off button. It's go. Always go. Always on. Be the best, do your best, fix everything, make it better and for God's sake don't let it get you down because then you fall in.

And how bad would that really be? Well, I don't know, but I know my survival instinct and that is what is making me go. I'm guessing it would be bad to ignore that.

I don't know if it's the worst part, or even if it's possible to rate things from best to worst any more, but there is something I'm becoming more aware of and I don't enjoy it. I'm either really *really* violently intense emotions, or nothing at all. I can simulate stuff - you know, in a conversation I can laugh and cry and chatter and be silly, but when I walk away I'm completely untouched. And then I start with the emotions and it's jaw achingly intense. I hurt. I cry. I feel intense... like *super* intense pride and self justification.  I just used intense three times in two sentences (4 in 3) and I think that's fairly indicative.

Right now I'm emotional (writing triggers it) and all I can say

All I can say

With all of these words at my disposal...

I'm so unbelievably unhappy. Not sad. Well, yes, sad. But sad about things. Not overwhelming sadness. Overwhelming unhappiness. And I feel like if I just do enough stuff maybe I get to be happy again. And now I'm sobbing at work because I know I'll never ever ever be happy again. Which is illogical. It can't be true. But it's all I feel.

I can't fix me. I didn't get the manual.