Another day in the life of recovery/ish/sometimes – i’m in part time recovery. Ha, who am I kidding? My entire life is therapy at the moment. My schedule runs a little like this: Monday: sometimes working, Tues: DBT group in the morning and my addiction councillor in the afternoon (I get a free lunch on expenses, it’s great), Weds: DBT therapist in the morning followed by CPN 15 minutes later (time for a fag), Thurs: Bipolar group all morning, afternoon generally spent doing therapy homework, Friday: sometimes working, sometimes my START worker, Sat: working, Sun: die quietly.
Phew that was exhausting even to type. Sometimes it is A LOT! Sometimes it feels like i’m Atlas trying to hold up the entire sky, a shaky acrobat trying to balance three spinning plates. But I also know how bloody LUCKY I am to have all this incredible support, not everything is so lucky. Living in Birmingham for two years taught me that you seriously had to be attempting suicide to even get assessed. There are hundreds and hundreds of people desperate for help and they’re not getting it, I should know! It’s taken 8 years of therapists and pills and labels and drama to finally get the help I deserve. So, yeah, (i’ll jump down off of my lil’ high horse now) I am very lucky.
It is tricky to know who you are outside of all this therapy. Like a type of institutionalisation but without the institution (wow, great simile, Liv). I try to have things that aren’t just work and therapy – yoga, Shakespeare performance company. It’s important to have something just for you outside of skills training and side effects.
Anyways I’m rambling now. I cooked dinner tonight – chickpea, bacon and black olive warm salad (fucking delicious) followed by (bought) lemon tart with lemon yoghurt.
Yum.
Being a Hurricane 