As I originally started this blog to understand my mental health. I need to add that I’ve been having flashbacks to my trauma and emotions from many years ago. I feel like I am exceptionally emotional and picking up on all vibes of people who’ve been through similar experiences. It is so hard to deal with…especially as im a nurse and expected to just be able to. Most of my colleagues are oblivious. They don’t care, not about me, but about the people they’re supposed to care about. I’m considering leaving nursing soon. I cant be in this system anymore. Its making me feel isolated and empty. I want to help…but its rare to want to
I’m back in work after almost 3 months off sick. Pretending again. As i mentioned i even pretended to myself i wasnt ill. Truth is, I’ve realised that I will always likely be ill on some level if the conventional way of thinking is dictating what is normal. But, am i abnormal? Am i actually ill? Or am i one of millions of people who feel things deeply? Should we write people off as being ill because they feel and act in an an unconventional manner? Maybe people like me are crying out to not feel isolated and like a freak. I believe my empathy for others is why i get so depressed, i feel the hurt of others. Yet if i admitted what went on in my head id be medicated or sectioned. Maybe more people need to realise that the deepest darkest emotions arent abnormal…they’re normal and not to feel this pain and suffering is actually not to feel human. Where are my fellow humans? I wonder
So since I last posted, I’ve been trying to block my thoughts out with the usual self destruct methods people use, lots of alcohol. I’ve come to realise that the reason I so easily fall into the same trap time and time again, is because I don’t feel real. I feel like an imposter in my own body.
such a feeling is referred to as Depersonalisation disorder. The overwhelming feeling you are not a real person. I feel I’ve always been different, but lately I just don’t feel. I look in the mirror and see a stranger, like I’ve landed in the wrong body and I can hear the thoughts and actions of my host clearly and still know it’s not me.
I had a mental breakdown a week ago. I was suicidal. I have a daughter, she is my protective factor, so i could never take the easy route out. But i found myself obsessing over ways i could end my life and worse still the fact that nobody would even care. I thought it would be days before anyone found my body likely hanging from the sturdiest ceiling light i could find because nobody even bothers to get in touch anymore.
Depression is a wicked hurtful and destructive emotion. It makes you see bad in everything. It’s a selfish emotion driven by a scorned ego, without you even realising it. If we had no ego, we would have no depression. My ego wanted out. It convinced me i was alone, i was worthless, i wasnt real and i shouldnt live this lie anymore.
I was hurt by people i had trusted, i now see they shouldnt be in my life anymore anyway. I walked to the docks at 5am alone, and when i got there it was so peaceful. There was just the occasional familiar seagull squawk overhead, and i sat looking at the river. It was calm. It was still. The sun was rising behind me. I sat and watched the still water for an hour. I thought of jumping in. It was only a thought though, although it repeated instantaneously every time i fought it. I couldnt do it. I have my daughter. She saved me once, and she will keep on saving me. This i realised. It was then i turned a corner, the black bleak foggy cloud had a tiny break in it. I had realised i had reached ultimate rock bottom, the lowest i could or have ever been before. The realisation of this made me begin to muster up some inner strength i needed to begin the battle against my depression, against my self loathing ego and begin on the (highly likely) long road to recovering from the most emotionally difficult, selfish and life changing period of my life.
So I’ve just had an exceptionally good weekend away with friends. I’m in a bad place right now. I am actually off work with depression, and have been telling my friends I just wanted a break from work and I’ve managed to convince my doctor I’m depressed.
THE TRUTH IS I AM DEPRESSED
However, i have managed a weekend forgetting and being distracted from it. I’ve felt amazing, connecting with new interesting people and smiling genuinely for days. I’m home now, alone again, and its feeling very lonely and dark.
The problem now is I need to deal with the come down from being so genuinely happy aswell as the inherent depression I’ve been trying to hide from people. I’ve mentioned I’m low to a few friends, but then brushed over it. I’m usually quite open but its always after the fact. So they’ll only know when I’ve dragged myself up again as I know in my heart I will do. But this feeling of emptiness and isolation is horrible and hard to even write and put into words. The only ones who would understand are those who’ve experienced it.
I have to stay strong as I’m a single mum and my child is more important than anything I’m feeling. So I suppose I’m writing this post to try and cleanse the intensity of my emotions so I can smile in the morning and pretend to the world, and more importantly my daughter, that I’m fine.
So its been a while since i last posted my thoughts. Downward spiral maybe…touching the cusp of the bottom so in then will inevitably be the onward and upward spiral so my life has become the visualisation of a dna helix. Am i just DNA. Did not attend haha. Whats going on i say to myself…again am i crazy? Am i normal? Is this even reality or am i just wired differently? Who the fuck even cares…i wont tomorrow when im in a less internal spirit side and become the external fascia of reality i put out to the world. I ask myself this…why do i keep going up and down this same helter-skelter and is it still as fun or am i riding it bare back for a cheap thrill at life…when will it end? I dont know but id rather keep going than let it stop. I love questioning my existence to myself
My friend has been sectioned due to having a breakdown. He has bipolar disorder. Not the type celebrities have which is just inability to deal with a prolonged shitty mood and and excuse to act however they want and blame it on a manic episode. He has genuine bipolar
He is one of the most intelligent people I’ve ever met. He gets life. He gets life too much. It’s overwhelming, it must be. Having a million excellent ideas running through your mind at once. Understanding but being unable to focus to explain must be horrendous at best!
I must admit. I’ve not seen this friend in over a year…well over. When we met there was a connection. That being because he got the world. He understands the bigger picture the ins and outs of every single interaction. We spoke about it a lot.
He has big ideas. I don’t know..was I encouraging ideas of grandeur or is it okay to believe one person has the vibes to make a difference. Is it right someone like this who’s not a threat to anyone, but yes I guess can be vulnerable, to be locked away because his ideas don’t conform? To be forced to take medication to dull this persona. He’s different and accelerated in these moments. I see both sides. I see his side though. I empathise and I feel he is being forced to conform because that’s what the experts say is right.
I don’t feel comfortable with the situation and if anybody has any comments I’d love to hear xx
The sun is always shining behind the clouds no matter what weather we deal with before we get to see it.
I’m at a point in my life where I have reached a kind of basic level of understanding for why I have reached the place I’m at now. I’m not in a bad place, nor is it the best right now. It’s been a rollercoaster, and I’ve never understood it fully though I’ve done a damned good job of pretending I have. It’s time for me to be fully aware, and I know the only way forward on this journey is to write about it. Write the memories, thoughts, feelings as they pop into my overly anxious head. Maybe playing it all out this way will help me. I was diagnosed with PTSD almost 11 years ago. I have lived with it and pretended I was fine after diagnosis…believed I was fine. I haven’t been fine. I’ve used it to help other people at the detriment of myself. People who know me think im strong. People are shocked when I open up about my anxiety, which can be so debilitating its difficult to get out of bed. I force myself for my daughter, and the strength I show her even when I feel i can’t is the same I paint to most people this is my talent. I can fake I am not in a battle with emotional torture to those around me so well, that I’ve convinced myself at so many times over the years. The truth is I am my own worst enemy. My inner dialogue can be so abusive to myself. An abuse that isn’t discussed as the perpetrator is you. Abusers hide things well. People living with anxiety and depression who don’t want people to know can have this same characteristic. This is a recent epiphany and part of why I’m writing this.
I hope by writing my feelings and memories of where they came from down, will help me. If anyone else reads my posts and gains something from them even better. This is a personal journey im sharing with whoever finds it. On the surface somebody doesn’t look like they have the mental, emotional, painful, insecure, tormenting, life halting inner life going on every day from waking to sleeping (or not most nights). You cant see it, its so easy to hide it even from yourself. This is my diary of hindsight to help me gain insight into how my future can be once i accept myself, where Ive been, what ive felt and where its lead me. I hope i can continue this journey, I’ve made the first step now finally. I feel im ready.
Im looking forward to seeing what this develops into…