The good, the bad and the ugly..

When you live with a mental illness or two, you find that things ebb and flow. Like the pull of the moon on the ocean. 

 Certain things can lift your mood right up and other things drag it so far down. Many people struggle most with the latter. No one really likes a low mood, whether you’re ‘

depressed’ or not, but some people actually struggle with the lighter side of things.

 You see, having depression does funny things to your brain, you begin to think that you shouldn’t ever be feeling happy if you have depression. When you’re coming out of a low slump and feel that little burst of ‘today isn’t that bad’ it can make you feel like a fraud.

Like your diagnosis, ‘your label’ is the be all and end all of your existence and that you should always fit into that stereotype. 

When people say things like ‘you don’t look depressed’ it could be fatal. That person may already be at the end of their tether. Using all the spare energy they can muster to put on a brave face and go out that day and you’ve just crushed everything with 4 little words. 

If you know someone with depression, or someone opens up about their mental illness, try to think before you make a flippant remark. Try ‘how are you doing?’ Or ‘do you need anything?’ 

Those 4 words can make a difference for the better – this gives you one person that cares. One person that is there for you that day and sometimes that is all it takes to change the mindset of a person. 

Please be nice to people, you don’t know what is going on under the surface, behind that bubbly smile. 
Suicide and suicidal thoughts are very real problems that are not as outwardly shown as other things. The death of person simply because they have a chemical imbalance that tells them death is the better option than tirelessly fighting a losing battle. I don’t think we will ever completely eradicate suicide, but we can certainly make huge progress towards making it less common. 
Right now, I’m doing moderately okay. I’m not jumping for joy but I’m also not planning the route the bridge. 

The little things 

Trying to find the good in life is hard when everything feels so empty and so black.

Obviously, I’m alive, clothed, housed and fed. That’s four pretty damn good things, and I am grateful. I have a little close knit bundle of wonderful friends – 3 or 4 extra specials, and my family too. Of course there is pupdog as well. I know I am very lucky, and I am not ungrateful for these things. 

It’s just hard to feel happy with your lot when you can’t feel anything but emptiness and overwhelming sadness on a daily basis. 
I’m drowning more often than I’m not lately. I’m not wading through life with little difficulty and water in my wellies. I’m being dragged around by a ferocious ocean and comtantly getting pulled under. I’m still trying to focus on the shore, on my safe haven and making my way back to a relatively normal existence on solid ground. 
I can’t get a doctors appointment to save my life (quite literally!) and it’s increasingly frustrating trying to fight a losing battle. I’m tired. I’m anxious. I’m not sleeping and I am  struggling to keep my thoughts on the little things. 

Trying to keep my little business running, to make ends meet, to meet the needs of my dog and generally cope with being an adult is harder than I hoped right now. The weather is all over the place and planning anything is practically impossible when my brain doesn’t want to play ball. 
Still. I try. I keep trying. I’m hunting for the little things. The sunshine, the butterflies, brioche and coffee, technology, a good book. My bed, my favourite hoody, somehow not many of these things bring me the joy they once did. 

Why Me?

This is a question I ask myself often. Probably too often if I am totally honest, but it’s one that I can never answer. Why me? Why not me? In fairness, I wouldn’t wish this on anyone, but that doesn’t matter. Mental health is taken for granted, and people who have never suffered with or experienced mental illness, in any form, will never truly understand those of us who do.

It’s non discriminatory, it doesn’t care what your background is, who your family are, what job you have, any of it. If it is coming for you, it’s coming and there isn’t an escape. So many people think there is a cure for mental illness and there just isn’t. Yes, it can go away, for long periods of time and it can be managed with various treatments, therapies and regimes. Adjusting your life to fit around it. Not the other way around. It nudges its way in slowly, little by little it takes more and more of your life away. Your freedom. Your spirit. Your drive. Your passions. It takes it all bit by bit and you have to fight for those things. Some days the fight is too much and sometimes, you’re there gloves on and ready to go all the way to kicking it’s ass.

When you are unwell with a cold or tummy bug or even a headache, a few pain meds some rest and ride the storm. You’ll be okay in a day or two, usually. With mental illness, you are riding that storm for the rest of your life. If you’re lucky, the sun shines down and you see many rainbows in the chaos, but for the most part, it’s drowning in a deluge of downpours, fighting against forces just to keep yourself standing and it sure as hell isn’t pretty.

I am a good person, for the most part. I do my best to be good to others, to help when I can and look out for my family. I try to do the best I can, in all situations and here I am, sat at home on a Monday morning, looking for a job that isn’t out there because I have a mental illness. I am stuck. I have anxiety so bad some days I can’t leave the house other than to take the pupdog out for a toilet break. I have low moods too often to count and I can’t seem to get a decent nights sleep. I try to be positive, but that isn’t actually helping. I try to pretend that I am okay. I try to push myself to work that little bit harder, but in all honesty. I. AM. TIRED. I am tired of fighting. Tired of feeling like that break isn’t going to come. I don’t want a lot from life, but I would be glad of a little bit more sunshine, please.

Why me?! What did I do to deserve this crippling disorder?! Why do I constantly feel like a failure and a let down?! Why am I trapped in this house?! Why does panic set in at just the thought of going outside?! Why can’t I just be happy?!

There is no answer. It just is what it is. I was chosen to ride this storm and I have to try to hanker down and wait it out. Surely there are better things coming for me. I hope.

Life is, well, it’s life isn’t it?!

I’ve been AWOL. Life has been – well it’s been life, y’know?! The dog has been ill, one of my siblings has been quite unwell – however both appear to be on the mend plus with the normal stresses of being a human with a nice dose of depression thrown in, I appear to have lost a few weeks. Autopilot kicked in.
Time flies when you’re having fun, but God only knows what happens to it when you’re suffering with mental illness, I’m pretty sure it was March yesterday.

I’ve been trying to force myself out of this slump of misery, but feel like just as I’m getting there, the curve ball comes and it’s back to square one. Can I catch a break now please!? That’s the trouble with mental illness, you can have all the positive will in the world but if it’s coming for you, there is no escape. It sucks. It really, really sucks!

Despite my desire to live in my bed this past few weeks, I have dragged myself out of it, mostly exhausted because I’m still not sleeping properly. Anxiety dreams and nightmares. Perfect. *sigh*
I’ve been busy painting and creating when I’m not working. I’m 23 days into my 100 days challenge and it’s refreshing to make time to create something everyday. I will have to continue on with setting aside a little time each day to get messy creative.

In other news I did finally finish sorting out all that craft stuff, and managed to binge watch 13 reasons why – which is a must watch. I loved it. Tempted to watch it all again, actually.

I’ve also been trying to push myself to go for walks without the safety net of the pupdog. It’s been terrifying, but I am managing to go short distances and not die, so I guess that’s progress. Even if it means I have to spend the next 5 days recovering from the exhaustion of all the emotions.

I keep thinking back on how different things were 5 years ago. How I could pretty much do anything I wanted, whenever I wanted and it wouldn’t even require a conscious decision, let alone a subconscious battering of panic. It does make you think ‘Why me?’

A LOT. It bothers me that other people don’t understand it, how I have lost friends because of it. how my life is just not what it was. Yes I am alive, I have plenty to be thankful for, but boy do I miss just going to sit round a friends or going to church or pub lunches and the cinema. It’s hard to live a life where you feel trapped by yourself. Stuck between wanting to get out of the house and not being to cross that threshold. UGH.

 

 

 

Fri-yay?! 

I don’t often get that feeling of yay it’s Friday. Mostly because I work on some weekends so it kinda doesn’t have true meaning. 

Even if I will eat a crunchie to try and urge that Friday feeling out of me. 😂

Today I am feeling shitty. I’m stressed, I’m not sleeping well and I have had a headache for 2 days. I just crawled back into bed to try and get more sleep and instantly regretted it. Which is unlike me. 
So I got up and I am now making coffee and I’m going to sit at my desk and create something. I spent a few hours last night tidying and sorting everything out so to come to a clean, tidy desk is like heaven. Like the first sleep in fresh bed linen. 

I need to work on some ideas, get some new product for sale and save pennies. My workspace is competely squished and in my bedroom. It’s quite stressful when everything is in the room you sleep in. Like literally I can poke my workspace from my bed. I have the option to add a garden studio this year if I can save enough for it come summertime, so I’d really like to do that. It’s a stepping stone between the here and the never ending climb to owning my own place. Though that probably won’t ever happen for me, I’ve gotta try at least.

I still live in the home I grew up in, and as much as I love this house, it’s a safe haven for me with all my issues, I hate it too. I just feel like I need to get out. It’s an awful feeling to find yourself with. The need to be home for mental wellbeing and the need to get out for the fear of being trapped here. Ugh.
And to top it all off I’ve gotta get ready for my tax return. Oh adult life, aren’t you a delight. 😒