I feel like I owe people an explanation. I’m aware that I’ve fallen off the radar slightly. I know there are texts I haven’t replied to (or even read), calls I’ve missed, messages I haven’t looked at. I’m sorry. I’m sorry for being such a shit friend and a crappy human.
At 1pm and I took the bin out – it took me 3 hours to walk down the stairs and put it in the bin. The air was cold and sharp and almost woke me up. Sort of reminds me of winters gone by – crisp walks, taking photos. I can’t remember what else it reminds me of; I can’t reach it. I know it’s in my head and my memory somewhere I’m just not sure where.
My brain is broken. I haven’t blogged in weeks – it takes me long enough to manage to wash my hair (days, currently) never mind anything more. It’s taken me 15 minutes to write 3 lines so far. What is there to write? There’s nothing to say. Just nothing. I’m a nothing.
I’m losing so much time. I don’t know where it’s going. I don’t know what I’m doing with it. There were a few days where I got a bit of crochet done. I was so out of it on the increase of medication that I couldn’t tell you any more than that. I only know I did it because it’s done. I don’t remember doing it. I don’t know what else I did with those days. I know that I didn’t leave the house.
I’ve been on medication since my late teens. I don’t like relying on medication. I don’t want it. I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to take it. I hate taking it (or I would if I could feel anything at all). Each increase kills me. It feels like a failure. At the moment I’m on a lot of things. But there doesn’t seem to be much of an alternative right now. I’m not functioning with or without medication currently, but at least with it there’s a chance things could get better.
I don’t remember how I got here. I’m not sure what happened. I’m not sure of a way out of it either. I can’t see one right now. I can’t see much of anything.
I want to drink my cup of tea. It’s over there – just a stretch away – but I don’t have the energy or motivation to do even that.
I want to sleep because when I sleep I don’t have to deal. I’m not sure what I don’t have to deal with because I can’t read my brain, but it’s something. What’s better… being this low and numbed up, or waking up to what I have to deal with, and feeling unable to deal with it? I’m not sure.
I can’t make decisions. I can’t think. I’m not really a person any more. I can’t process anything. That’s why I’m struggling to read things, reply to things, pick up the phone…
This post has taken me all day to write and decide to post. I’m still not sure that it makes a lot of sense because I can’t read it back to myself without the words going jiggly. I can’t think of another way to reply to all the people I need to reply to, so I’m sorry for the blanket response. I want to end this post on a hopeful note, a note that says ‘I’m dealing with this but I will get better’, but I can’t write that right now because I don’t believe it.
I can end it by saying I’m doing my best. I’m trying my hardest. I’m getting up every day. I’m talking to people when I can. I’m taking my meds. I’ve started art journalling. I’m getting through it all, one minute at a time.