Daily drivel #9…. gnawing gremlins & cuckoo clocks….

After a tiring spell at the gym yesterday, I’m feeling rather fatigued. Getting there was a tough start to the day, but with hood up and earphones in, I just about managed a back workout. Throughout, my mind was running a mile a minute. I could almost smell the burning cogs as they all but buckled under the strain.

Today, an increase in my medication was a necessity. Broken sleep and waking with cogs still turning, silence would be a blessing.

A touch of positivity is trying it’s hardest to sprout, like a dash of green in a crusted, parched desert. That would be a sense of achievement. That golden sweet essence amongst dank misery. I managed the gym, a successful workout and that puts a lil smile on my face.

Success is short lived however, anger and frustration at incoherent bullshit in my head trips me up and I face plant in to hatred for myself and everything about me! Gnawing at the very tissue that regurgitates conversation and interaction, self doubt and nonsense soup, is this festering gremlin that wants me to implode.

Tonight I will probably fail at sleep, grow the frustration from a meagre, yet powerful sapling into a mighty, zombie-esque oak! And tomorrow it will start all over again or just build on it’s impressive progress.

Tomorrow is a new day, a fresh start….but is it? How can one keep going when the inevitability of utter shite is around every corner, lingering within every interaction and peering down from the cuckoo clock of a brain I have?!

I just want a day….I’ve had a taste for it….I want more, I need more….

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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….

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….

Nightly notion #10….

For a long time now, I’ve looked at progress as a linear motion. You’re either moving forward, standing still, or in reverse. It was a simplistic view in which I held great devotion. As I lie here tonight, as I have many nights before, I see peaks and troughs within this linear progression. So it no longer has it’s simplicity, it’s minimalist grace.

What I’m trying to get across is that, no matter which way I look at it now, I can’t see the beauty of progression unless it’s forward AND levelling out at a peak. Just moving forward isn’t enough anymore. Is this a bad thing? Yes and no.

I’m beginning to see a future beyond my limitations. A possible outcome to my constant need to improve. But it’s a balancing act. Even more so than previously. Yes I’ve come a hell of a long way, surely that just means I have further to fall? Further to regress and ultimately splat at the bottom of this pit in which I began my journey.

The future I see isn’t one of a previous life, past dreams before that dreadful time. More that of change and fulfilment. Because there has to be a point, as much as we like to deny it, where the peaks soften and that forward movement is all that remains. I want to be at this place. Relief and satisfaction at the position I’m in. The person I am. The journey I’ve taken.

I feel I’m once again, pinning my hopes on a somewhat uncontrollable outcome. How to balance this positive mind-set, with the inevitable troughs. How to accept that I am still scaling the side of this pit and as much as I see a possible future, I have to ensure I’m well enough throughout the process in order to even contemplate getting there.

I guess what I’m asking myself is, can I have too much positivity, too much drive and have the wheels fall off at the next turn? See a future where my mental health no longer intrudes on everyday life, want it so much that I forget to tie my shoe laces and trip, flat on my face?

As this jibber-jabber spills and muddles itself on to this page, I wonder if I’m just overthinking. It’s not as if I haven’t done that before…..

Whether I am or not is once again a question I have no idea how to answer. The bright side is however, it isn’t getting to me. It isn’t creating a cavernous hole in my head in which my brain wants to melt in to.

Maybe now this is written I can let it go. Stop thinking and move on to the next….

Teetering on a knife edge….

Hiding away always seems the easiest option. Just when comfort sets in, an overwhelming bout of anxiety and mind mush sinks it’s teeth right in! It was a lovely day, until this point. But to hide is not my best option, even though it feels safe.

When your happiness & freedom from anxiety teeter on a knife edge, I sometimes wonder how anything can be enjoyable. Is it luck that these feelings simmer under the surface? Or am I fully aware of them, knowing in some way I should just make the most of the good times? It’s a quandary, a fleeting thought process that simply wastes my energy.

I do enjoy days, knowing it may just be that one through the week. But I don’t fester in fear of the bad. Once upon a time I wouldn’t have seen the wood for the trees. I wouldn’t have seen a point in enjoyment when misery lay around the corner. This is a triumph. Although I feel like a bag of turd, I see the glitter in which I could roll. The polish set aside, and a spark of positivity flickers.

Tomorrow is always a day away, always a possibility for happy, jolly times. Let’s take a bad day as just that, singular, just one. Tomorrow is just around the corner…

A beaming light….

Weeks of torment behind me once again. It comes to a point, when I start to wonder what it’s all about? As if it is just the norm, to have good times followed by bad, only to start the cycle over again. When does it all become a tedious process, never to be broken?

A beaming light shining midweek, signalled the end of the downward, sleepless spiral. Granted, sleep isn’t all tikitiboo, but sleep has been had. The shining light, iridescent, marred by cloud, is a thing of beauty yet I’m fearful of what will trigger the next spiral. I feel I’m just playing a waiting game…

I guess I need to enjoy, make the most of, and seize the day at hand. Focus should be on how to exploit these good times and continue the growth I was getting on so well with before the bad times stuck their nose in. As if a blip, or singular scratch on a CD, continuing on with the song and finish what has been started.

So that is what I intend to do. Look at how far I’ve come. A crumpled lump, a mental and physical mess on my brother’s sofa, to where I am now. A gym going, lifestyle changing conqueror. The ‘me’ I almost enjoy looking at in the mirror, the ‘me’ that loves to cook, garden and progress day by day.

Don’t let the down days, or fear of what may happen next, slow you down. Take each day as it comes. Blips happen, shit happens and the fight is what will make you stronger. Enjoy today, tomorrow is a day away and always will be!

Smile, always.