Saturday, 14 February 2015

a valentine to myself (almost)

As my husband slumbers, I sit awake at 4am after a wonderful evening with wonderful friends.

My heart is full. My people are good people. I am so very lucky to know them.

Yet I find it difficult, nay impossible, to reconcile the joy in my heart with the sads in my head.

I lay awake with Bean, listening to him breathe, the life force which holds my hand and hopes enough for the two of us, and I am crying.

My tears, my sobs, my whimpers. They come fast and my heart cannot quell them.

I should* be able to sleep, the past evening was so gentle, so kindly, so special. People are treating me like anyone else, not one with the visible stigmata of mental illness.

I just can't stop my brain from catastrophising. Actually not even anything so impressive. Just my constant loop of "You're useless, you're pathetic" on an infinite loop.

Oh don't get me wrong, I know what I should be doing, I have a list of distraction and soothing strategies which I practise regularly, but in the loneliness of the darkness they seem silly, futile, impossible,

Why do I even write this down? Is it a distraction, it certainly feels cathartic but should I dwell upon this thoughts. Why should anyone want to read such clunky prose? Should I expose myself so deeply? I know that other people feel exactly the same as me and have no such outlet. Perhaps it is a kindness to let others know they are not alone. Obviously, this tactic doesn't work for me, how dare I be so grandiose to think I could start to help anyone?

So let me tell the truth. I write because I'm scared, not because I'm brave. 

I go on bearing my soul for no obvious reason. I'm frightened, 

I have so very much to be thankful for. I have kind and generous friends. I have a roof over my head. I have the most special husband who holds me and absorbs my tears.

Yet. Yet. Yet. 

I'm so very scared. I can't decide what the fear is. 

Is it the wanting to get better but being afraid things will never change. Time does not always heal. Or perhaps the plans to end my life are increasingly becoming clear.

I guess it doesn't matter. I'm feeling the fear.

I need to stop thinking about the future. It won't suddenly change from a black hole into a rainbow of unicorns. The future for me is the next second. No more. 

Today was good. Slowly, slowly.

More mindfulness, less monolith of the future.

I need to listen to my heart.

Anna xxx

*the forbidden word

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