My head on paper

My head on paper




Here goes…………….

I have a problem, it’s a problem with order. Right now I have no plan for this post but I know it is there, in my head. You see since my little break from reality I have been trying to rebuild my life, problem is I have kind of forgot who I am. For so may years I have covered for my illness by fitting in, by assuming a persona that matched the stereotype of my environment. Now the more I face my ‘illness’ the more I realise that I don’t know who or what I am. I started small, I decided to start a routine, last week that was to get up with my daughter. This week I am planned DIY jobs, I’m being productive, normal, or am I? I feel better, I am even only using half my diazepam when I can and only taking a full dose if I feel stressed or anxious. But I am tired, maybe from my increased motivation which would be an explanation.

So I am functioning and genuinely feeling more loving to my family and friends. I have spent less time on forums but still try to check in daily and at least read a few posts and offer comfort where needed but there is a doubt in my mind. Something doesn’t feel right, gut feeling? I don’t know but it is as if I’m worried I will appear to be better before I actually am. I know this sounds crazy but people are seeing me being motivated and happy and I wonder if they think, “hey look Dave is getting much better”. The trouble is all I am actually doing is preplanning a daily routine that I know if I do, great but if I don’t they will understand. How long before they stop understanding though? what happens when my routine is disturbed? As I said I have halved my daily doses of diazepam on the understanding that if I can cope with half, great but if I need the full dose I am not breaking my prescribed dose. My meditation is going well although yesterday I could have sat there all evening but this morning it was a struggle. So have I set myself up for a fall by creating this safe routine, I know that I am still wrapped in cotton wool right now but soon the strain of life will return and I can’t even think about that right now.

Here I feel is where there is a real change from physical and mental illness, with a physical illness the healing process is often visible and the sufferer can feel the progress. With mental illness what is visible may look like healing but can also just be a coping mechanism enabling the sufferer to function on a certain level whilst still a lot more ill than they appear. The Paroxetine seems to have drawn a line above depression which I can’t seem to pass, the diazepam and meditation seems to allow me to handle mild anxiety and my new-found passion to spread the word about mental illness and share my story has given me something to believe in. However I have not even driven since before I went into hospital, communication between me and work has been via email or text and anything I know is likely to cause me to get anxious or depressed is getting ignored.

  • “soon the strain of life will return and I can’t even think about that right now.”
  • “anything I know is likely to cause me to get anxious or depressed is getting ignored”

I said at the beginning I had no plan for this post but it was in my head, I have had a little waffle (my blog after all) and in the last two paragraphs a theme seems to have emerged. Yes, right now I am functioning but I am scared stiff of what will happen when the gloves come off, what if I can’t face my old life, work, even self? In fact what if I don’t even want some of those things, especially my old self? I said at the beginning I can’t remember who I am really, well maybe I should look me up. Maybe I’d prefer the real me, pretty sure he isn’t going to be as handsome but maybe a little less podgy. But what if real me can’t get a job that pays as well? what if real me is even more neurotic than I am (doubtful). Maybe I just need to man up and stop hiding behind an illness? Oh yes, there is a little voice in my head that says “nothing wrong with you, can’t be arsed to go back to work that’s all, attention seeker” shame it’s the same kind of voice that says “hey that looks sharp, bet it would rip through your arm a treat” or even the voice that says “I’m tired”

You see I know I am ill because of what I have just written, writing it has given me some hope. I know that someone may read this and think “hey, I know exactly what this guy is saying” and it may help them as much as it has helped me, I don’t know how yet but I now know what is in my head and information is power as they say and I now have a little piece of the puzzle. I’m sorry if this post has been a ramble and apologise to those who have complimented my writing style, this one is a bit ad hoc I’m afraid. I write for therapy maybe one day I will be able to use therapy to write.

2 thoughts on “My head on paper

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