This morning I feel wrecked. Last nights events left me unable to sleep, followed by nightmares and an rude early ( not so so early 8:02am) awakening.
My body feels cut up, my eyes are barely able to stay open and my brain, my little tired brain is just somewhere else. Lounging in bed hearing the rain on my windows with Saturday morning kitchen on but not really taking it in. I feel dead inside my own skin, kinda like a zombie. I’m hearing but I can’t hear what is being said. I’m seeing but I can’t truly see. I’m eating but unable to taste. I’m wishing it was night time again so that I can sleep. So I can feel human again.
How does one find the motivation to do things when one feels like this? Ultimately I know that lying in bed will make my mind cross over to the irrational side but I have no get up and go in me. I’m finding it hard to even reply to my friends and this is where I worry I get stuck.
Gimme ideas please to get me back on track.
I hope the rest of your Saturday’s are going well!
Somehow, someway. Make it happen. Listen to those songs and connect. Listen to those people and connect.
I had therapy with L today, the first time I had spoken to her in about 3 weeks. I’d been avoiding her and well most people from Complex Needs apart from this week, and then with all the bank holidays, it had been a while. I found myself a seat under a tree and tried to talk to her. My best friend, A, said something very important but very simple before I spoke to L, she said “Remember, they are there to help”.
It was actually quite a good session, despite feeling cold (sitting under that tree and when the dog walkers stopped in my 6ft when I was discussing something very important). We talked about a plan for the weekend, to help keep me occipied here and we also talked about my current housing situation, how it’s making me feel (unsafe and uncomfortable and maybe even scared, not scared that I’m going to be hit but scared because it is so unpredictable – the mood, the motions. for sure) and how we can get through this. I don’t think there is anything they can do though. I don’t earn enough to live by myself and one isn’t allowed to move in the current climate. I also told L about Springfield being my place of safety. Emotionally. How I feel I have grown a lot emotionally with having that safe space. And we spoke about how I think my attachments have flared up since not having Springfield, not being able to see her. L seemed pleased that I had done some mentalising, in the time and was very sincere. I felt her almost caring side coming through and I think I responded to that. I cut off towards the last 5 minutes of the session, couldn’t stand the awkward ending. I became silly and hyper and sat laying, looking up at the tree for 5 minutes after the session had finished. Then, I walked the long way home via Sainsbury’s to get cheese and ham and a croissant for lunch .
I need to sit and digest therapy, because that was the first time in weeks and there is something that was brought up which I need to talk with them about on the phone so I guess I’ll have to leave this blog here for now and go and get my ham and manchego croissant.
Not the people but the place – Springfield Hospital is where I feel the most stable, the most safe. The Hospital is so much more than I realised, those smelly rooms, the unacommodating, hostile reception staff sat in their chairs behind the glass perspex boxes, the cream coloured walls with its odd choice of art work, the chairs that are too close together and more recently than not the building works, making so much noise that one can’t hear themselves think in the therapy room. All those things that made it the places I need, and having had that taken away, my own sense of security has kinda derailed me. That along with the other circumstances, that I am living through, that we are all living through. The place allowed me to converse how I was feeling, emotionally and physically for more than 2 years. It allowed me not to be judged in what I think and feel and was teaching me news ways to trust and be open. Not just one person there, the whole place. And I think, because I cannot know for sure, but that is why I am struggling so much with having therapy by the phone. I am not in my safe space, I am disconnected and unable to truly let loose. Tell my inner workings to my therapist L, who I have been seeing for over 2 years now. Tell her that my emotions are flighty at the moment, that I just need to be held, by someone, anyone. Not just physically but emotionally. Someone strong to come along and scoop me up. I need to be able to tell anyone working there that this confusing and unnatural world that I am living in is not working for me, I feel insecure and vulnerable in my external settings and there internally too. And I’ve seen it unfold before my eyes, as soon as the team told me that we were moving to telephone calls. I felt my heart jerk, my mind crumble. My insecurities on show but for me to be unable to show them clearly. Perching on the outside of my skin, that one would see if they saw me in person. And that was a month ago now. I saw it coming. Absolutely and utterly. Coming right before my eyes.
I get it now, it wasn’t just L, or R, or A or E that at times made me feel more connected, more emotionally safe. Safe enough to explore and be curious with my emotions. It was the building, holding my secrets within it’s walls, allowing me to explore and revisit emotions and experiences. Allowing me to reveal those long lost parts of me – those that have been hidden deep inside me for decades. Those invisible parts of me, that vulnerabilty that people so rarely see.
I get it now.
It wasn’t just the people but the place. I now understand why my body forces me to the direction of the hospital each time I run, now forcing my little legs to run an extra 5k so I can bypass the hospital and down the hill. So that 3 times a week I can feel a brief sense of certainty. I told myself that I was running around the hospital so I could remember how bad it had got. How troubled and powerless I was, how I was to not to let it get that terrible again. How I don’t want to end up in that voluntary admission again, not where I was but 2 months ago, walking around numb and dead – no shoes on my feet. No light in my eyes, smoking, wandering. Knowing that I could leave but actually that was the right place for me.
But it wasn’t that.
It was protection from my own mind that I needed.
Disclaimer – I wasn’t going to post this, it felt too fragile, too emotional but maybe tht is what I needed to, get it out.
It always ends in an explosion of character and emotion.
Walk away and regroup. Find something that calms you and give yourself time to process the emotion and situation.
Today, my alcoholic housemate, managed to smash 20 glasses by pulling apart a whole cupboard in a crescendo of noise which only lasted 30 seconds. Enough noise to wake a sleeping lion. He carried on being rude, insolent and ungrateful all day when my other housemates tried to include and help him. It ended with me having a disagreement with him and walking off.
I needed space time and a lot of walking to make it through the rest of the evening. I haven’t seen him this evening and I’m grateful, grateful to have my space.
Some wear ordinary clothes, with scuffed trainers and unwashed hair. Some wear sports clothes and some wear uniforms. Some are disguised as miracle workers, proceeding and continuing to fulfill their role each and every day, looking after those who need it.
Today, I got delivered a food package from a friend of mine, L (no not therapist L, but a friend L.) As well as managing to get everything on my short list (I wasn’t going to take the piss), L even put in a one of those massive beers, you know the ones that you are still drinking an hour later. She dropped it off with a book, taking it all within her stride. Grateful couldn’t even come close to how I’m feeling especially with the lock down. Today she is my hero.
The other heroes that don’t wear capes, are my friends who have been fantastic at checking in on me this week. Checking how my mood is, asking if I want to talk or try to get my emotions out.
All of you. I thank each and everyone of you. You have no idea where I would be without you. You are amazing and I could not be without you, especially at this difficult time. You have no idea of what it means to have a place to vent or just talk about shit to. I love you.
Finally finished!
And on the last note, I finally fucking finished my book. It only took me 3 days to finish it after a year of trying. It only took me a pandemic to finish it but finish it, I did. I really, really struggle with sustaining enough attention to read, I find it hard to imagine the characters and the scenarios but I did it. Thank you to the weather for allowing me to sit in my garden and get lost in something else for the time being rather than getting lost in my own mind.
This time 24 hours ago, I was talking to a therapist R, at Complex Needs. I was extremely suicidal and had been for a week and a bit. The deciding factor this week had been my housemate stating that he had been tested positive for Corona and my now settled routine had become awash with worry. Ihadnocontrol. I have to stay in, not knowing how to calm and soothe myself. My mind leapt to what it does when I am overwhelmed. Suicidal thoughts.
24 hours ago, R and I were planning an admission to hospital, me trying to be frank with someone in the team as to why I had cut myself off from them, why I hadn’t called my doctor, why I had missed both individual appointments (on the Friday) and the group one (on the Monday) or them back. Where I had gone for the last week and a half? Honestly, I was trying to gain some sense of support but also pushing away. My attachments have been messed up, not only by L telling me she was pregnant but by Corona. I have a hard time believing people care and love and support me. I needed help and that was my only way of telling them I needed it, by disappearing.
I thought I didn’t have any help, or guidance, that no one cared. I didn’t have any hope. I didn’t give any fucks. I was preparing for the worst, unable to see the light at the end of what has turned into a very massive tunnel. So 24 hours ago, R was trying to find me a place in a hospital, for a few days or nights or longer.
Unfortunately, it fell through.
Last night I just went to bed and tried, tried to not listen to the voice that had and has been undermining me, telling me I’m worthless. Telling me that I won’t get through this. That this is what I deserve. Telling me those maladaptive coping strategies are what I need to do. To cut, burn, punish myself. Pushing me closer and closer to the edge until I snap.
Butttttttt, I reached out. Complex Needs supported. My friends supported. My Mumma supported even though she didn’t know the real story of it.
The full moon happened. And when I awoke this morning, after not sleeping too well but after checking in with Complex Needs and saying what I’m feeling, having A tell me her long time listed phrase of ” It will pass” “All this will pass, that critical voice in your head, you’ve got to find a way of talking to it. Tell it to fuck off. Find a way to make it quieter”. I felt lighter.
I sneakily walked a little further, keeping my 6ft away from people but found some woods and took some photos. Regained some control. I had enough of people telling me that this is this. That voice of mine telling me this and that.
I asked a friend to drop off some groceries this weekend and I text Complex Needs to say thank you for the support. They replied “thank you for sharing “. And with that, I think I am okay…..
Is truly not the one. My emotions are just so flighty at the moment and everything feels difficult. I range from being deliriously happy to suicidal in the hour. My concentration span has been shred into a hundred thousand pieces and my resilience seems to have removed itself from my body.
I feel scared and worried most of the time apart from when I’m running. Keep running longer distances and I don’t know if that is punishment or just a thing to get the emotions out. Either way it stops me from being worried and gives me some kind of control in what is the most lonely, connected, disconnected, disconcerting time.
As my house mate has tested positive for Corona, I have to try and create a new routine for myself. This is hard. It’s hard for me to fill 9 hours of time without ruminating or getting stuck in my own head.
Currently I’m listening to some classical music, with lavender on my pillow trying to soothe my almost 3rd degree sun burns. I am trying to build up that resistance again.
I’ve just started to get into a routine with all this Covid-19 stuff and then Pow! Today. My head has blown up in my own stupid face.
The alcoholic person with whom I live with came home today saying he has it. He has Corona Virus.
Boom, my head went pop, pop, pop. 2 weeks of isolation, stuck inside a house with no routine, with a man that wanders around drunk, almost comatosed most of the time and the whole world telling me that it will be okay. That it’s not that bad. That you’ll find things to do.
But, I struggle finding things to do on a weekend let alone every day for 2 weeks. Yes 14 days. How am I meant to structure my time. Keep in touch with services or not. Answer the phone. Keep settled.
If anyone has any good ideas on structure without leaving the house and not watching Netflix all day. Please let me know!
1. The first was “Zoom”ing my family and my my best friend (Sorry A, I love you). (I can’t actually post a picture of my family on here cos the screen shot I took has all their surnames on there and I know that some of you are crazy motherfuckers). But the video calls have made me feel so much happier, so much more connected to people, connected to my people. You feel this sense of normality when you can see and hear those close to you and as my brother said…..
“It gives me hope, that everything will be okay. ”
And I truly believe, today I truly believe that it will be okay. I’ve been having this sense of panick, of wishing for simpler times recently and it’s made me disconnect from people. This whole isolation thing has really thrown up some attachment issues for me. And I’m trying so hard not to push back on people, trying to stay connected with them but my brain is shouting no, no, no.
2. I am grateful to be able to hang washing on the line and have it dry in a day. Such a simple yet fulfilling task. A sign that summer is coming and thus warmer, longer and brighter days. A sign that the black dog is being put to sleep again. Tonight, I am now able to sleep in fresh sheets and I am able to (hopefully) sleep comfortably. Whilst I was waiting for my washing to dry, I attempted to sit in the hammock in the garden, which in turn I fell out of. But having a place to sit and relax away from people and in the sun but not breaking the rules was very refreshing. Simplicity at it’s finest. I’m not a very complicated person in turn of things that make me happy, I’m not into material goods but instead pure and simple things. Love, being needed, being wanted, washing drying, good food, good rum, talking to those that I love. Simple times.
3. Running and being able to run, pushing myself to get to the next corner, the next km. Feeling the sun blaze down on my sweat ridden face but not giving up, not giving in. Feeling the wind against my arms and my legs from where my short and t-shirt ends. Just feeling something other than these gut wrenching emotions that have been taking me away from myself. And having that feeling of being proud when I returned home, that feeling of excitement which has stuck around all day. The feeling that the world is mine for the taking and that when all this is over, I willtakeitall back. The world will be mine again.
Knowing that I have this. Today, I have this. We all have this.
I have recently discovered video calling through the help of a friend who persevered and persevered with me to do so. I know this might seem like a simple task in these crazy times but for me it is so anxiety provoking – the idea that I will talk over someone or the video will freeze or the other person won’t be able to hear me or I’ll stutter. So many anxieties running through my mind, making the task absolutely unachieveable.
But over the last week or so I have called and video called several people including close friends and members of my family.
I feel proud and actually seeing my friends face or my Mumma’s face has made me feel so much better mentally, much less lonely. It’s funny how in these unthinkable times, something as simple as a video call couls really be the difference of long lasting sadness or lonliness or long lasting happiness and feeling connected.
I definitely think this is going to be a tactic which that I am going to have to continue to utilise over the coming months.
When the achieveable seems unachievable. When the emotions are heightened. When I feel trapped. When I feel lost and scared in the world, as if my world, this world, feels deranged and illogical. When I can longer take each moment as what it is, just a moment which will pass.
Video calling will help me. Completely and utterly.
Katie's blog on life 
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