Horses best left buried

Yoga has taught me an awful lot about healing and recovery, and given me a unique insight into my voices and the way they operate.

Patience and endurance are the key tools I need to develop to recover.

I spent so many years thinking I just had to power through. That’s my Mums mentality. Never stop, never enjoy rest (because on your downtime you’re planning everything else) and never give in.

Is it any wonder that I had a breakdown?

In bikram, your practise is developed through first maintaining constant and steady breath.

Then you work on the alignment.

Once the alignment is correct and you are supporting your body you are ready for depth, but only then.

This is true of life. I hurtled through at one point, barely eating, hardly sleeping and rarely facing up to things.

My voices can manifest in a way that makes me think I have a backlog of worries that I haven’t addressed spanning over three years.

Past events become present, so not only do I feel my current stresses, these past worries are added to them. While the events are very much in the past, the fear, misery, anxiety, self loathing and stress that accompanied them become embroiled with my present worries.

All this means is, instead of approaching everything with a fresh head I have the weight of my worst years on my shoulders and I carry them everywhere.

So what can I do?

1. Breathe.
I’ve always been terrible at breathing, but by focusing on bringing fresh, positive air into my body and expelling the negative energy I fuel myself, I give myself the things I need and I respect my body.

2. Alignment
I am trying to focus on the present, but my voices drag up things from the past. Some of these things are petty and ignorable, some are larger and more traumatic. So for the larger things, the ones that make me panic, what can I do? It’s not always prudent or wise to contact the people involved so how of I resolve this?

Any input here would be much appreciated!

3. Depth

I’ll get to it when I get there.

Namaste :)

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Party of five

I’ve been low. I’m possibly run down.

I’ve been alternating from okay-ish one day to see-sawing from loved-up to suicidal the next.

And my voices.

All the time, all I hear are an endless combination of five I can distinguish. And they never stop.

I drown them out with music. I try to concentrate on anything else. Sometimes I’ll be talking to someone and I’ll finish my sentence with what they’ve just said. I can’t think. They’ve utterly hollowed me out. I feel like a vessel for five other peoples thoughts and feelings.

Phrases are repeated over and over, arguments hashed out endlessly.

The futility of it makes me sick, the repetition is akin to brainwashing and reality starts to slip through my fingers like water.

The familiar voices make them hard to ignore. They talk about things that interest me. It’s like I’m constantly eavesdropping.

This has to get better. It has to. I’m stressed out at the moment. I need work. I need routine. I need some security.

But it’s making me panic a little. I want them to stop, or I just want to get high and not care. Counter-productive, I know, and I’ve no intention of setting myself back further.

I suppose that just further cements how desperate I am for some sort of respite.

There’s no way that I can continue on like this, no way in hell.

Yoga has been helping because I think it stops me panicking. However, the voices are worse when my body hurts, and as I’ve been stressed I’ve been pushing my body further than I should.

But my rabbit and half locust are coming along nicely.

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I find public displays of affection difficult. When I’m hypomanic, or when I was high or when I’m hammered it’s not a problem.

Sober, I feel awkward touching people.


I think there’s a very logical reason. Touching creates bonds of closeness and affection, something I rarely trust outside of my family. I don’t want to create those bonds for fear of losing them. I’ve used the term chemical lie for drugs before, affection creates a natural chemical lie.

I hug and kiss my family. But friends, lovers…. outside of a hug to say hello in a public space I find it quite difficult.

It’s a level of vulnerability I’m not quite comfortable with, and it’s rare I’ll initiate it.

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This feeling won’t last forever.

Things will get better.

Won’t they?

Symptoms or reality?

I know I must be starting to have symptoms other than just hearing things.

I think I’m making connections where there are none – parts of conversations from different people over an unlikely amount of time are starting to converge on me and I feel like something is brewing.

It feels like someone is playing mind games with me. I can’t work out why. Logic tells me this is not real at all.

My delusions have never been as big as thinking I’m someone else, and my paranoia has always been on a personal, social level. Probably more influenced by real-life events, and a natural reaction to being screwed around.

I know I should probably call my doctor, but I feel like if I can just hold on for another week, maybe it will pass. If I can wait until August I have an appointment already.

I feel like it’s taboo, like I don’t want to discuss the details with friends or family, which means it’s all probably a fabrication of my mind. Another sign I need to call the doctor. I mean, I’m not going to take any medication, but I might be able to talk in detail about what’s bothering me, which may help me to reason it out before it takes hold.

I remember, before I believed there were hidden cameras in my flat I had a suspicion. Of course, I listened to and trusted my voices, so they confirmed my suspicions in the past and I treat them with skepticism now.

I suppose the important thing is I’m not panicked, I’m able to take a step back and analyse what’s going on and I’m able to form a rational plan.

Monday, I’ll call the doctor on Monday and see if I can’t get an appointment a little earlier.


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It’s easy to compare those vibrant, magnetic people with the heat and passion of fire and summer. Closer to the truth, I think, is the comparison of extreme cold. Winter can enchantingly beautiful and doubly dangerous. Drunk on the full force of their attention, you lay down on a bed of snow, fingers and toes being burned away by the consuming frost until you feel warm again. You are utterly captive and damned to an eternal sleep within their embrace.


Just a little prose that came to me while I was in the bath.

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Talking some old-fashioned sense into a new-fashioned gal

Him and her sat kissing in a tree


First comes love

Second comes marriage

Third comes a baby in a baby’s carriage

Trigger warning, apparently some people don’t like to hear the sad side of baby-making. Just don’t look down!

Continue reading

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Single and ready to mingle….or not

Having been single for at least two and a half years it has it’s ups and downs.

Now’s one of the downs. I know that a little company might make me feel better….but I just can’t be bothered. And I know that’s when I need to push myself. But, despite meeting some wonderful eligible people over the past few weeks… I just don’t care. I almost texted Silver Fox last night (the name I’ve given him for his shock of salt and pepper hair at a young age) but, I thought, what’s the point? He lives a little way away, as far as I know he’s stable of mind and body and I’m not.

It wouldn’t work. Or so I tell myself.

I don’t know. I don’t want to go anywhere, or do anything, or see anyone, or talk to anyone.

Simultaneously, I don’t want to be alone.

I just need to be spooned really.

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How not to get out of debt

A little levity is needed I think here. Because money is starting to get me down. Debt is an easy thing to accrue when you’re perfectly well, let alone when you’re unwell.

I have unsecured debt in the double figures, enough to cause me sleepless nights and to feel the weight of it slowly crushing my young soul. This doesn’t include the student loan, because to be honest I’ve stopped thinking about that one.

Here are my marginally sane, slightly off the wall, questionable and downright illegal solutions that I have considered to try and pay off this debt of mine.

  • Get a job. Any job.

The sanest of the solutions. And yet…I’ve had many interview requests from retail cosmetics, my CV having been found online and the long hours, thankless work and low pay leaves me cold. Not to mention the last two places were very unforgiving with my mental health problems and I think it would cause more stress than it alleviates. Now, I could just get any other job, however, I invest my life and soul into my work, so this would be counter productive as I would find it hard to search for more appropriate employment while working somewhere.

  • Beg

Beggars can make some money can’t they? Actually I’m thinking of large-scale begging via kickstarter or something. Although, that would probably involve some form of embezzlement and large-scale deception that I’m just not comfortable with.

  • Sell all my stuff

This is already underway, although it’s more been in an effort to pay the phone bill than anything else. Also, I like my stuff. I have very little of actual value and to sort through it would be a nightmare. The more valuable things are either practical (phone, laptop, iPod) or sentimental anyway. Useless.

  • Prostitution

When you’ve got nothing left to sell, you can always sell yourself. Right? The thought makes my skin crawl. I’d like to think it would be high class and romantic in the way of Firefly in the Companions Guild, but the reality would more likely be sweaty overweight businessmen in a cheap hotel. Not to mention, illegal.

  • Get a grow

Again, illegal. My Mum would certainly object, and it’s a long term project with an added risk of tempting fate.

  • African royalty email scam

Illegal, immoral, just very, very wrong. And irritating. And, just no.

  • Fake my own death

And what? Move to Mexico. Very tempting. I need life insurance first. Which requires money. Back to the drawing board. Also, illegal.

  • Marry rich

No. Hunting for a rich partner essentially equates to being owned, doesn’t it? Not to mention, immoral.

  • Meth lab

It’s been done to death. Boring. Played out. See above, Get a grow.

  • X-Factor or similar

Everyone knows the sadder the sob story the more votes you get. Plus, I can actually sing a bit. The downside is I object to the whole show in general and I genuinely can’t squeeze out more than a solitary tear at a time. Shame.

So for those of you suffering the financial difficulty after a bad patch of mental health. Don’t despair. There are yet solutions.

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