Shine on you crazy diamond ... do do do do do do
Damn, I haven't cracked open a beer all this year, but I really need one tonight. I feel like crap. Just one more step and I will be outside myself. Bring it on! If I let myself go enough, I will be able to make the red flow. I haven't been able to do that properly since leaving hospital. I just lost the ability to, well, you know. I want that ability back tonight. I need it. I miss my most successful coping mechanism.
I always seem to fall apart after a pdoc appointment. I guess I had forgotten how disgusting I could feel since I missed my regular appointment last week. Having to try to connect with my emotions and talk about how I have been going depresses the hell out of me. The main problem is that I can't talk about emotions and shit. How the hell can I when I don't have them? It sucks!
Add the above to a telephone call I received from *C* tonight, letting me know that she arrived home safely from her trip down to Brisvegas earlier today. We spoke a little about my pdoc appointment. Then, for some godforsaken reason, we got onto what things were like for us as kids. I have very little memory of my childhood ... just the odd memory that pops up occasionally and they are always the fucked ones. Why the hell my brain doesn't let me remember any of the good times I had is beyond me. Those memories must be hidden away somewhere in my mind too ... surely.
Anyway, *C* said something to me that left me shattered. She meant it in the kindest way but sometimes she just calls a spade a spade. The words that she uttered were, "You probably won't like hearing this, but you have got to stop feeling sorry for yourself". Dammit. She's probably right. After she said it though, I came the closest I have come in months and months to crying. Nothing makes me cry anymore.
Tonight I wanted to write about what my pdoc and I discussed during my appointment today. I haven't got the energy to go into it though. Hopefully I will be able to later.
which fack thing is happening here? nobody works around as chicken with the witness excluded if they do not have the some idea where head is to the hole in the basket has gone.
ReplyDeleteI know what you mean. I usually feel worse after seeing my therapis. It just reminds me of how fucked up I am.
ReplyDeleteChildhood memories? I have few as well and they are also the bad ones. I have the hardest time crying too. With my meds I usually don't feel good OR bad. Just blah.
It's hard to not "feel sorry for yourself" when you are constantly depressed and or distant from your own emotions, etc. It's easy for people to say that because they have NO idea what it is like to try and "live" with a mental illness.
I hope you feel better and I think that you SHOULD have a few beers. I think that I will too. Hehe.
I like James!
ReplyDeleteHe's right lol
People who don't live with a mental illness simply don't understand what it is like. Dwell in ure depression when u need to, and rise above it when u can...
Ure a survivor disso, and that's the truth here.
xx
A huge THANK YOU for your replies, guys. They made feel heaps better.
ReplyDeleteJames, I soooo hear you on that blah feeling. It bites! Hope u enjoyed those beers too. I'm gonna have to stock up on another six pack or two myself. :)
Joey ... huge hugs. I'll post some of those beers down to ya.
Great blog in terms of how you are able to communicate your feelings and let your soul "vent"; that's healthy, and hopefully it helps you find a litle strength during the down times. I tend to be like that as well. UNless you want me to remove it, I am putting a link to your blog on mine. You write many things that many of the people who read my blog will find good to read. :-)
ReplyDelete