Back at the beginning….fresh eyes….

With an up and down phase upon me, I feel I’m on an eternal roundabout. I’ve stopped writing, stopped looking for that treacherous, yet happiness invoking, next step. I feel I’m on a perpetual rollercoaster, same thing, different day. I guess the only change is whether, at the end of each day, I’m smiling or frowning. A daily game of swing ball, rematch after rematch, never a definitive win or lose.

I took an interesting and much needed trip to where much of my journey began. Back to the mental health team. I’m almost two years in and I just couldn’t reach that next milestone. Progress…..that recurring word, my worry of putting too much pressure on it has finally appeared, popping it’s head above the sand while simultaneously burying mine. ‘Hide!’ I scream to myself, ‘cower away from all that challenges you’ I plead. ‘Your safe places are becoming but a myth’ a voice…my voice, whispers.

Sat in that room, concentrating on every word spoken, yet struggling to keep focus. Unknowingly scratching at my palm, a nervous twitch, only apparent once I’d left. Hand red raw, apposing thumb numb. I think I heard everything. I think I replied in the best way I could. It’s a strange feeling, knowing where you are, knowing you’ve spoken but not remembering much of it. A vague sense of intrigue, to be a fly on the wall. The very wall in which I sat by, myself in the room where a fly could better relay what went on.

Fresh eyes are what I need. Replace this tired view in which I can no longer see what lies ahead. I want positivity, a prolonged sense of achievement once again. Instead of this ‘oh here we go again’ feeling I now fester in. To enjoy a singular day without the fear of decline, tiredness and a fatigued mind. The anxiety to piss off and leave me the hell alone!

One day I will smile, accept the frowns and end with a smile. My life will forever be gauged by these smiles and frowns, I just want the control back in my corner….

Nightly notion #11….

Tonight is one of those nights. One with tired eyes but a busy brain. Until I stop and think…or not think…thoughts are a mile a minute. Fleeting and forgotten. Imagine fanning through the pages of a dictionary, A-Z quick as a flash. What do you see? What do you remember seeing?

Rain on the window is soothing, a temporary break from my dictionary conundrum. Snoring dog with active dreams, a chuckle to lighten the mood. Tis all good I tell myself, Aardvark and Zephyr….who cares what else supersonics it’s way through. Forgettable thoughts and notions are probably not worth the bother.

So how to shut it down, where is this off switch? If I count sheep I’d no doubt have to give them all names. Lambchop and Doris would be mum and dad. Grandpa Gravy and granny…..How’s about reading, replace incoherent with coherent, meaningful words on a page?

You know just writing is sometimes enough to adjust the dimmer on the off switch. I’m still smiling and I can’t wait for the day tomorrow. A break from doing too much is still on the cards, let’s make it to the psychiatrist next week and go from there.

Goodnight all and pleasant dreams 😊

Out of the blue….a killjoy….

Halloween has been and gone, roll on the next date of significance! Bonfire night is next, a special day as it’s my mother’s birthday. I only hope we can all enjoy the day without my inability to cope with social situations cropping up and ruining it all.

To be fair, as a family we enjoy the company of each other rather than a big social event. So that’s what we will be doing, having family time. That doesn’t mean my anxiety and mind mush won’t storm in, out of the blue, bold as brass and kill all the joy in the room. It happened on Halloween. Cooking, eating, playing Pictionary and walking through the village in the dark. The kids enjoyed it, and so did us adults!

But, just like a turd rolled in glitter, cracks started to show. The facade of glitter, cascading off to reveal my ugly mind that just won’t let me enjoy myself. It’s as if a debate goes on betwixt my ears…..’okay, he’s had fun for a few hours now, all those in favour or shutting him down raise your hand’…. And that’s it. No turning back, no chance of recovery. Marring the entire day, staining it with my inability to cope once again. It doesn’t seem to matter how good I’m feeling as a whole, my mind will always fatigue.

Memory of the night is patchy unless I really focus. As if a mental block sits in my way. I know we all had a good time and I know I was up for longer than I was down. But all I seem to remember is a struggle. A mass of voices, lights and background noise. I can’t put my finger on what the noise was or if the voices were in the room or my head, but I do know it’s shown me a lot. It’s shown that no matter how far I’ve come, a big issue still lies in front of me. How can I possibly get back to a normal life when more than two voices in a room become too much. When background noise, whatever it is, takes over and becomes too much.

I want to remember good days without having to fight through the garbage my mind makes a priority. I want to have good days without ending in struggle and torment. I want this blog to get back to it’s positive days….

Tranquil….yet deafening….

There are moments throughout the day, perhaps a week, where the peace of an empty garden is lost amongst a hoard of noise trapped in my acoustic mind, orchestral without an ounce of class. Just being, just enjoying is impossible. A sad and lonely time where time itself seems to stand still.

If the symphony in question was just that, a symphony, then perhaps I would be content in letting it pass by. It is me, myself and I contorting every unnecessary thought and question in to a bloody mess. It’s no mean feat to take a Beethoven sonata, quash it and turn it in to a mechanical cluster fuck of unnecessary bullshit! Franz Schubert into screaming cats or a Johann Sebastian Bach to a whirring cement mixer filled with broken glass and unsuspecting lemmings! Silence is the masterpiece I wish I could hold on to, or at least find at times like this.

I put my socks on the other morning, right then left. Nothing strange in that is there? No, of course not. Then the question pops in to my ever welcoming head…would I somehow be unhappy if I did it the other way? Would it spark a torch of good feeling and somehow make this day the best ever? Whilst mulling this over, I contemplate taking them back off, for test purposes obviously. In the time it takes me to muddle over this pig swill, my pug had got himself back to bed and was snoring the house down!

This is a minor example of the ridiculous lengths my brain goes to, so it’s owner, me, feels as though there aren’t enough pills or doctors in the world.

When in conversation, usually a response to something, a question, a statement, just general chit chat, is off the cuff and spontaneous to a degree. I find myself analysing, not only the words I’m hearing but the words in which I plan to release into the world. More often than not, spontaneity rules after all as I decide anything else is just garbage.

Talking one on one is okay, not so much with new people, but when a third voice jumps in to the mix….no chance. At first I’m grasping the conversation by the short and curlies! Then, gone, I cannot catch up and my contribution is done. I sit vacant, with a touch of bewilderment and ‘please help me!’. Conscious of the goings on around me, the people, the sounds, even where exits are. A buzz of surrounding noise turns to a blender filled with bricks. A colossal wall of noise, frightening and unstoppable!

I write this now, on a good day. One of the above days behind me, swearing at me in the rear view. Knowing in itself that it will soon hop into an F1 car and catch up to my rickety banger! That doesn’t mean to say I’m dwelling or waiting for the bad times. It’s just nice to get it out….

Jibber-jabber at dawn #4….

Sleep has once again evaded me, slipping from my grasp like speedy Gonzales covered in butter! Head pounding, even a whisper is that of orchestral symbols and thunder. It is, to put it mildly, a poor start to the day…

In the words of Freddie Mercury and those of show business – ‘The show must go on!’.

So today will start with a handful of tablets, the usual plus added painkillers, and desperate rehydration and eggs. Scrambled with avocado on the side, simplicity at it’s finest. Then to sit and write whatever comes to mind, keep writing until there are no words left.

This afternoon will be a trip to the vets. With anxiety levels on the rise and an inability to shhh my head – hence the writing challenge this morning – I’m worried I may not make the appointment. I hate my struggles imposing on others lives, now the pooch may even suffer….

Thinking and imaging the struggle before it arises, is never a good idea. Sometimes, however, the choice isn’t mine to make. It’s as if something inside my head decides ‘today, you will think, overthink, and think again’.

It’s early yet, perhaps I shouldn’t cook my chickens before they’ve grown?….from fledglings?….or however the saying goes….

Here goes, another day of positives and negatives, smiles and frowns. Which will come out victorious today? Come on positivity!! Come on smiles!!

Defining me…..

Today is a bad day, but what is bad?….. I’ve been here before, questioning what and why I feel. Is this my defining trait? Questioning everything. Pushing out any other thought, mashing the potato between my ears. Only to see no end to this circle of soupy shite!

I long for a hard day that doesn’t involve thinking. One where I wish for a recliner to take the wait off my feet… I’m afraid my aching will always sit at the opposite end to my feet.

What is it that defines me? Is it my illness?

Along with the voices and involuntary arguments with myself, I also voluntarily do this…this deep querying, investigating the reasons behind things. I barely even know what I’m asking myself, or why I’m even asking. But once I’ve started, that’s it…. as if I don’t have enough going on in there!! Pure masochism!! Seems I’m on a road I chose to go down, I chose self destruction. The sign in the funny horrors, ‘left for ice cream or right for mental torment & sadness’ I turn right every time.

You may read this and think, that’s a bit much! But I can’t see a bad day going by without this war, this battle, me versus me being the focal point. It just wont shut up!

When a seconds break does show itself, I manage to squeeze in the thought that tomorrow will be different, I’ll wake up happy. Whether or not I believe this is besides the point, I’ve jammed a positive thought in amongst the mire. A sparkling star amongst this festering black hole.

But is it enough? Enough to get me through this day, or the next, even the next week if positivity evades this clouded mass, this think-tank I can’t apply a cork to. Could this go on forever…..

The answer to this is frighteningly evasive, mute and seemingly nonexistent…..

Once again, spilling words has somehow pressed pause. It isn’t everlasting, it is brief, short-lived. Tranquil and beautiful.

Whether I post this is down to the scheduling Gods and the inscesant want to delete….it is just a bad day I tell myself, just a bad day….