This whole week has been bizarre. Flashbacks are eating me alive, sadness is scooping me out like a melon, loneliness and regrets and stupidity line my socks like fluffy remnants.
I’m almost too exhausted to even riddle it out, to think about any of it. Pain, past, presents. Christmas is so close that I can smell the cloves and over-excitement already.
Everything just feels so wrong at the moment. That’s the only way I can elucidate it – just this permanent feeling of wrongness. Like I’m staring up at a skyscraper as is crumples in onto itself. Impending wrongness.
I also feel, constantly, that there’s a million things I need to be doing. My head never rests, not for one minute – not without weed or my prescribed sedatives (Yes, I basically live on sedatives because my head is like a washing machine of FULL spin, all the time). It’s fucking exhausting, always feeling in a rush, always feeling speedy and anxious and on high alert.
Ugh, let’s be positive. What’s RIGHT at the moment?
–Singing – It’s a huge distraction for me at the moment, locking myself away in our little bathroom and hugging the acoustics as close as I can. From Amy Winehouse to Les Miserables to 70’s rock to new brand musicals. Music has always mended me. I’m using it as much as I can.
–Dad – He is my rock at the moment. He tries his very best to understand the chaos I live with constantly. Just having somebody to give you a hug when you need one is so so important.
–My Nieces – After a long ole’ road of complications with my sister, I am now able to see my stunning nieces as much as I want and their little pudgy faces and cart wheels and snuggles eases that pain every time.
–Poetry – I’m managing to write about my pain, the wrongness, the discomfort and bizarre hypomania I’m in at the moment. I am writing like It’s the only important thing in the world, each poem helps me untangle things. BUT I also then get stressed and anxious because I SHOULD be editing my novel, I SHOULD be sending portfolios to editors and agents, I SHOULD be doing XYZ. You see where my head immediately goes. BUT poetry is my best friend at the moment.
–Art – I’ve been collaging a lot, desecrating newspapers and gluing poems and sketches and muddled landscapes from ‘Private Eye’ and ‘The Big Issue’.
-(Parts of) Therapy – Despite the fact that I cried for an hour during group today (a lot of trauma and pain just came surging up and badaboom I was a sniffling mess for the morning) but otherwise therapy is off on the right foot. I’m starting to try to utilise skills more – for example: shoving my face in cold water for 30 seconds, cuddling my beanie baby, blowing bubbles, making lists. Obviously therapy is more than just blowing some bubbles but I am trying (instinctively I want to say I’m not trying hard enough BUT I am bloody trying so shut up brain). I’m still showing up for every appointment, making notes, completing homework, working through deeply ingrained crud and kack in the skirting boards of my skull.
-Drugs and Booze – for the eagle eyed amongst you you’ll have noted that I am a recovering addict/alcoholic. It is definitely in control, I had a couple of slip ups with self-destructive instincts last week but I now realise that they happened every time I was alone. I self-destruct to get out of being alone with my head. Classic. BUT I am still doing very well with it all, I’m sticking to boundaries and limits and it’s still very much ME being in control, not the bottle or the spliff. Which, of course, is the main testament.
I’m sure if I set enough time aside I could easily think up more things that are going RIGHT at the moment. It’s hard to balance the tilting scales sometimes when your brain is solely focusing on the negatives.
Tomorrow’s another day. And I’m trying to breathe through the pain and listen to Eva Cassidy. Tomorrow’s another day. Tomorrow’s another day.