Here inside my head.

Saturday, 31 August 2013

At first I wasn't going to post this and then when I did post it I was thinking of deleting it  Yet no matter how difficult it is to leave it here, it will stay because although people often mention mental illness such as depression and anxiety, how often do we actually talk about it? as in really talk about what it's actually like?  Hopefully you won't be able to relate to this entry but if you do, even a little at least now you know you're not alone.

How to explain to your children, why you're so crap?
They don't understand and I don't know how to explain it to them, The Husband pretends to understand depending on his mood and yet even I don't fully understand the clusterfuck tangle that is essentially me.  It's so hard to separate and dissect what is illness and what is me.  Often I fear, what if the me has in fact been devoured and beneath it all, there's nothing left.

I lost myself somewhere and I can feel her waiting for me to find her only I don't know where she is and everything is so blurry and everyday her voice fades.  Some days I can't hear her at all.

I rarely ever take my kids anywhere on my own.  I rarely take myself anywhere on my own.  It's not that I can't be arsed or that I don't want to.  I'd love to.  I just can't.

I once spent nearly four months barely leaving the house.

The Husband virtually goes everywhere with me. He keeps me focused.  I just have to follow. Often when I'm out my mind wanders; I become confused.  I become disorientated.  Sometimes I just have this nameless tangible panic; a feeling of utter dread.  Yet it's all inside, invisible.  I can feel it stretch and swell until it's choking me and yet something prohibits me from showing it, from having a voice. Just keep on walking.  I usually remember to smile and nod in the right places whilst I try to remember why and how to breath.  I've spent decades faking it, appearing to be okay.  It's like I inhaled this despicable smog and can't exhale. It's like you're drowning and everyone else around you is breathing.

At times I'll get these sudden random impulses to do something or go somewhere without knowing why or how or even if I'll stop.  Sometimes it's the beach or simply into the distance other times it's to the left or into traffic or off a bridge, just because.  So once again, I follow him.  He knows where we're going.  He knows how to get back. In the silence I'm concentrating on banishing the impulses.  Only the silence has voices, my own.  To not think, I'll talk.  And talk.  Blathering and mithering the poor Husband to death, just to stay in the here and in the now.  Just to stay grounded. I have no sense of direction.  The thought of going somewhere alone leaves be frigid and frantic.  I may never get home.  My ankles may collapse on me (again).  I may lose a child somewhere.  I might forget to go home.  I might get on a wrong bus. I might run away.

Because everything is blurring.  I'm in some bubble, that renders me unable to connect with anything or anyone.  I am neither affecting nor affected.  It's so hard to breath in here.  It's so hard to be in here. A ghost of a ghost of a ghost of someone I used to be.  I feel so numb.

I'm awkward and petrified.  Actively avoiding social interaction.  Painfully panicked when it's deemed necessary.  I lose track of conversation, I have nothing to say. I have no voice.  My name is Nobody. I drift away. Yet occasionally there's a spark and for a minute or two I remember how to talk.  I'm starving for conversation. It's like I'm given 120 seconds of air and to hide the greedy gulping gasps of it I talk...and talk....and talk. I talk too much and talk too fast. I'm smelling colours and hearing shapes  For a minute or two I'm somebody, I don't know her name yet but she's on fire.

When did everything get so bright and colourful? It's clear and beautiful and I feel like skipping.  I can feel my blood literally fizzing in my veins.  I'm fucking superwoman.  I'm a frickin' fairy.  I want to dance.  I want to fly.  I want to learn to sew and crochet and knit and make jewellery.  I want to start up eight businesses.  I  want to meet all the people I adore yet am usually too petrified to meet.  I want to go here.  I want to go there.  Throw open the windows, I'm breathing.  Turn on the lights, you can't see I'm glowing. Turn on the music, turn it up! I'm dancing, I'm singing.  Come twirl with me.  I'm naughty and flirty, i'm obsessing over house moves and holidays that will never happen. I'm writing and thinking.  I'm feeling and smiling.  My is my blood fizzing? I want to talk to everyone.   I can't sleep. My thoughts are racing until it's just a mass of never ending white noise.  I cut my hair at 2am.  I spend days bleaching it.  I know who I am.  I know who i'm going to be.  It will be awesome. It's all so fucking clear now! I take an identity off a rack and try to make it fit.  I'm awake though the night.  I need to buy these things.  I need to.  Why did I stop smoking? I want to get drunk! I'm wearing makeup!
I am a stone.  I'm falling. Why did she go away? why is everything so grey?  I'm about to hit the ground.  The joyful fizzing is now sparks.  I'm an inferno.  I'm raging.  I punctuate the silence with snapping.  I'm vicious and shouting.  I hate you.  I hate everything.  I'm hypersensitive to smells and sound and they send me into a simmering homicidal rage. I want to destroy everything and take it all apart. I don't deserve this!

It's dark.  So dark.  I've forgotten how to speak.  Everything is so fucked up.  Nothing will ever get any better.  I can't even cry.  I'm disgusting and stupid and ugly and fat and irritating and dirty and empty.  I'm empty.  I can barely move.  I lie awake for hours terrified and alone.  It hurts.  Everywhere.  My limbs feel like lead, my veins feel empty and bruised. I am Nothing.  Everything I've ever done was wrong.  I'm not where I'm supposed to be.  I've failed.  I'm failing.  I'm invisible.  I smile imagining the pattern the blood would make on the white bathroom tiles if I banged my head hard enough....just to make it stop.  Just for a little while.  I'm holding my breath beneath the water, just to let the silence consume me.  Just for some stolen peace. I'm not good enough.  They all deserve more.  They all deserve better.  I am a canker; I'm rotting.  The clothes don't fit.  My hair is a mess. I don't know who I am.  Why did I think this would work? Why did I think I could be someone? I don't deserve these second hand clothes or pretty shoes.  Oh god, the guilt.  Sell, why won't these things sell? Take them away from me.  I'm so alone.  I'm so scared.  The itch to externalise is overwhelming me.  Old scars throbbing. Shut up.  Shut up.  Make it all shut up. Help me disappear. I deserve this. I'm slipping.  Falling.  I'm not waving, I'm drowning.  I'm dissecting and analysing everything I said, everything I did.  I'm such a twat.  Everybody thinks it.  Everybody knows it.  They must have laughed when I walked away.  I'm just a joke.  I'm not even funny.  They're glad I walked away.  They're wondering the best way to avoid me in future.  Freak.  Freak.  She's a freak. My head hurts, it's so full. So loud in there.  It won't shut up.  God damn this voice inside my head.  Goddamn this voice it wants me dead.  I am the voice.  The voice is me.  Make it stop.  Make it stop.  I am hollow.  Things will only get worse.  There is no happy ever after.  I can't see through this misery.  It's devouring me.  I have no voice. It's so dark and I can't see. Everything is wrong.  It'll only get worse. I'm broken and I'm breaking. I deserve this.  It serves me right.  Can't breath. Why am I still here. I can't do this.  Make the pain go away.  Make it stop.

I'm numb.  I'm back in the bubble.  Disconnected and disassociated. Just keep moving.  It's just another day.  I know when to laugh and when to frown.  I don't have to feel it to do it.  I'm watching myself from the outside.  Everything is stable again.  Everything is shades of grey. Not up nor down, I just am.  For now.  I'll follow him outside for a while.  I'll try to stay focused.  I'll try to smile. I'm only a little petrified. I'll avoid you and you and you.  It's really not you, it's me.

Circles and circles and circles again.

How do you tell your children you're mental?  How do you explain to them why you're often so crap? Why Daddy takes them to the park on his own yet Mummy never does?


  1. Don't delete please. This will I have absolutely no doubt be a lifebelt for someone else. This us a wonderful piece of writing. Your children will always love you, I hope you find some peace and your family continue to be such a support.

  2. Thank you so much both for taking the time to read and comment and also for your kind words.

    So many people mention mental health issues yet far too few ever really talk about what it's like.

  3. That was absolutely beautifully written, although it goes without saying that I wish you didn't feel this way. Look at your wonderful children - they wouldn't be as awesome as they are if they didn't have a good mummy. And I'm willing to bet that you're being far too hard on yourself xx

  4. Beautiful and heart shattering. Love you xx

  5. Brilliant, beautiful, awful. We write to know we're not alone. You are not alone. Xxx

  6. A superb piece of writing, it truly is a window into the mind of a depressive. I think you're amazing to keep going AND be able to write about it.

  7. Well done. I'd say more but I'd waffle and nobody needs that :) x

  8. Jen> Thank you so much for your kind words and for taking the time to read this post x

    Sam> Waffle away, I like a good waffle ;)

  9. That was an amazing piece of writing that needs to stay out there. I don't really know what to say other than that you have been heard. I hope you learn to love yourself again.

  10. talkaboutyork> Thankyou for 'listening' it matters, a lot x

  11. I wish I could put how I feel into words as eloquently as you have. No kids here but trying to explain it to a parent sometimes can be as tricky. We'll both be OK :) xx

  12. Sarah> we will indeed, only because not being okay isn't an option, granted we may be differently okay from most people....but it's still okay x

  13. Just cried. Forgive me. This is exactly what it is like sometimes a cycle can be days, sometimes over weeks, years...years and years over and over.
    Its a very honestly written thing that shouldn't be taken down, you know why? Because there are other people out there who feel like this or very similar and think they are abnormal broken lost freaks - and maybe we are? As sick as I can be, its at least a little comforting to know that there are other people drowning too. The windows of not breathing don't seem so dark and panicked knowing they're there at least. Once you have been through the other side often enough you get used to the ebb and flow. You know by practice that once you hit the lowest of the low...That is when the window of light appears. Sometimes big. Sometimes too small, but only when you think you will break or have indeed broken will that window of 'happy, normally functioning you' arrive. You begin to welcome the downs. The faster they come the faster you can get through them right?
    You really are lucky to have your chap to follow and your kids too...and believe it or not they ARE lucky to have you. You WOULD be missed. They would not be better off or have better prospects or be free from this horrible burden that is Mum on a downer.
    Anyway in answer I tell my kids nothing. All they know is that sometimes I can be a right moody mare who is then overly apologetic and drinks lots of coffee while hiding in the kitchen/garden x

  14. Kaz: I'd say something naff like hugs but somehow i think you'd prefer JD ;)

  15. ...yup and its on sale at Tesco, but can't bloody get there argggh! lmao x


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