Why I choose to be alone

Apart from the myriad of reasons I put down to the pre-emptive guilt of having another human being having to cope with my mental health problems, there’s a biggie.

I’ve never been interested in having a relationship. I’d rather be free. Much like my Disney counterpart, I fear a cage. I like to be free, and do what I want, even  if sometimes that means doing nothing.

I don’t even like dating.

I think the problem is, I rarely notice the attention. Or, when I do I just want to skip to the fun parts and leave all the hard work. On the odd occasion I do try to meet someone, I end up extremely nonplussed and just can’t be bothered.

Or perhaps I’m meeting people in the wrong places.

I think it comes down to I can’t be arsed.

Que sera, sera….

PS. Stop asking me why I’m single. I’m only 24 jeeeeeeez!

Struggling with psychosis?

This isn’t applicable to everyone, for example I don’t take medication but it does help you to be better prepared and minimise risk of a full-blown episode.

Click here or right click to download the PDF.

Apathy is one solution, but not for me

“Apathy is the solution. I mean, it’s…it’s easier to lose yourself in drugs than it is to cope with life. It’s easier to steal what you want than it is to…to earn it. It’s easier to beat a child than it is to raise it. Hell, love costs, it takes effort and work.”

Flights of fancy

Completely unrelated to anything at all, except I am getting that feeling again where I want to run.

Run and never stop running. Hence my growing and slightly unhealthy obsession with Doctor Who. Ten, of course, because oh my days David Tennant grabbing my hand and running for our lives sounds like an amazing little adventure right about now.

I do love a bit of escapism.

Is there anyone in the world who would say no to a handsome stranger offering you all of time and space?

I think I need cardio. Stupid rib.

Physical strain causing more instability

So, since my manager told me to work through the pain yesterday I did. I had to take time off the shop floor to cry from the pain and felt like an absolute idiot, and I took over double the amount of pain medication I should’ve and it did not help.

I was plagued all day by voices, constantly distracting me and driving me up the bloody wall. I started to get very paranoid, in a customer-facing environment this is not ideal if you think your customers are part of a conspiracy. Oh, you have to laugh, it’s utterly ridiculous.

My doctor has told me my choices are stronger painkillers (but I don’t get on with tramadol very well, it makes me hallucinate and that was before I had persistent psychotic symptoms….I dread to think) or take the time off.

So I am off for another week.

I think I need this week to spend it keeping myself balanced. Meditate, draw, and tidy. Do all the things I never have time to do and cram into my day off midweek. Catch up with family.

Do a bit of living.

I might be invested heavily in my job, but I can really use this time positively and take some time to heal.

Voices

My voices are so noisy tonight, I don’t know what to do.

Balance it out

If psychosis is an over-balance of creativity versus rationality, I need to channel my creativity more productively.

So, writing a book, and I’m going to start drawing again. I always loved working with wire but I’ll start slow, pencils and oil pastels ’cause it’s been a while.

Why is paranoia so hard to ignore?

“You’re just a little bit in love with it.”

So Spike might have said that about death, but death, insanity, the unknown, giving yourself over to something bigger has an incredible allure.

I remember how fervently I believed my delusions, and I remember the clarity it gave me – despite how frightened, how confused, how irrational I was I felt I had clarity. If I give in, the fight it over. I may have lost, but it’s over and done with (until the next time…)

There’s a sort of freedom in that loss of accountability. Insanity is like a black hole: consuming, irresistible and a possible foray into a different universe.

It’s terrifying how hard it is to stay. Insanity is the easy option.

Well I’ve never been shy of a challenge, and I know I can win – well, I can never actually win, but I can hold my position.

I got through the night, I’ll take one day at a time.

Paranoia

This is how it starts.

An idea slithers into your head. It’s insidious, it whispers, it infects, it grows.

It starts to take hold. You begin to see connections between seemingly random and meaningless events. Your imagination takes over, that shadow grows in your mind and rational thought begins to shrink away. Panic sets in – your mind is racing, everything you knew before was a lie and this is what it has always been about and you can’t remember what the whole point of that friendship was.

How do you fight these monsters, these shadows?

You talk. Voice them aloud. Sound them to the people around you. Remember that you make those connections that other people don’t, and that most of the time you get it right, but sometimes, you get it so very wrong.

I am so, so grateful for my family. I’m still going to call the doctor. But had I been on my own tonight, it would not have been long before I was checking through the curtains, wiping my phone, chasing imaginary voices through the air.

My mind is my worst enemy. Its creativity is without limit, and with the shocks my body and brain have been through this past week, it has been pushed to it’s limit.

My mind is my best friend, the strongest weapon I have in my arsenal. You might whisper to me, my little tricksters, but I’m not listening. I might have to fight you for the rest of my life but I will not give into my illness. I will use every resource around me, every loving family member, every single speck of rational thought and I will not be defeated.

I have been to that darkest place and I am not going back.

Paranoia, you can fuck off.

After some careful thought

So my body can’t sustain a pregnancy from the word go. I didn’t want children, it means nothing. I don’t know why it makes me feel like such a failure, but I’ve been assured it’s probably more that it would not have been viable. Granted, it was only a chemical pregnancy, so just a fertilised egg really floating about but still…

I just have to see this as a blessing, goodbye unwanted blob #2. Sorry you didn’t fancy growing inside me. It’s cool, I wasn’t ready for you anyway.

I think perhaps it’s a case of my body is under stress, I’m under stress, and I’m seriously considering the current Doctor Who deus ex machina love thing, or lack thereof as a possible reason.

Love is the answer to everything; where there’s no love, no good can come of that.

Update: I am in no doubt about my fertility any longer. The painkillers I’m taking for a cracked rib cause miscarriages. YES! Pipes are fully functional (until proven otherwise!)