Today is a tough day. I really pushed myself this weekend. I spent Friday, Saturday and Sunday clearing my room. It’s been a mess for a while, and I have serious issues when it comes to throwing useless things out. So it was a huge process – first clearing everything off the floor and sorting through it. Then moving or removing all furniture so every inch of my carpet could be cleaned and hoovered. Ever last spec of dust and dog hair removed. Then it was the work surfaces, and the dreaded drawers. By Sunday I was in agony, and it was drawer day. Saturday I took extra meds and worked high but it’s not a vibe. So I went with the pain Sunday which made me grouchy and ruthless and mostly just binned everything bar hair and make up items. My room has felt so claustrophobic for so long and just hasn’t brought me peace. Now it’s my sanctuary again, it’s clear and clean and I can burn all candles and it not feel like I’m just spraying febreeze over dog shit.
But now I’m in agony. I can’t get a grip on my pain and I’m trying to force myself to just stay still and rest. But my mind makes this a much harder process. My plans for this evening aren’t able to go ahead, and because of my pain this isn’t a bad thing. But mentally it would have been good for me. I have plans to see people over the next two days which I’m really looking forward to.m, but for today I find myself in another Groundhog Day. Just another day, in a lot of pain, stuck alone in bed. I tried doing some painting for distraction but I’m just not physically up to that energy output.
I don’t want to feel like this anymore. I either don’t want this pain or I wish I was detached again. That’s my main issue, I complained about being so detached but suddenly I’m not. Which means I’m faced with my reality and it’s not a very good one. In fact I’d say it’s not a reality anyone would have should choose. But I don’t get the choice. I’m trapped here and I so wish that I wasn’t anymore.
I really thought trying to get my shit sorted this weekend would help me somewhat. To have a sanctuary that didn’t bring me negative energy, but it’s me. I’m the negative energy. I am however truly thankful that I accepted my therapists offer of an extra session per week. Because it means I have therapy tomorrow, and I couldn’t think of anything better for me right now.
I’ve also not shared my journals much. I’m aware how dark they are at the moment, they’re as negative as my mind and feelings. And I don’t always want to put out negative energy. You get back what you put out in life. But people also feed off what you put out. I always wanted to share my blog in the hopes that one day it may help someone else. But when all I have to share is more of my suicidal ideations it concerns me for others in my place. I want to be able to give those people hope that while it’s shitty and tough, it’s possible to get through it. But I’m not going to sit here and try and force that hope on others when I don’t have it right now. Im truly not certain about how I’ve come this far, and I’m even more uncertain about how I continue. That’s not the hope or help I wanted to bring, but then I also promised it would be the truth.
Maybe in another 18 months my story might be complete, I might be on my journey through recovery and this blog will be filled with ‘told you I’d make it’ posts. Like a nice round off to the journey. A beginning, a really tumultuous middle and a wonderful end. But right now to read my blog we’re in a trough and that’s not an enjoyable experience for the readers I currently have. I mean I don’t have wild numbers of readers, but they are spread all across the globe. But I also use my blog as a way of allowing those close to me a true view of where I am without having to get all emotional trying to tell them in person.
I truly value writing. I still find it cathartic but I’m just not sure this is the energy I want to put into the world right now. Maybe I’ll continue posting or I might take myself on a sabbatical for a little while.