I’ve just started reading a very interesting book about the interconnectedness of trees and how they share sugars, information and so forth through their fungal networks underground and through releasing chemicals into the air when attacked. I’ve know about this for quite some time but the book was a gift I received last week when at my stepdaughters wedding, which was amazing. Having read a little I felt memories of my earlier life flood through and into me like a ‘download’ or a jump back in time. Mostly it involved my mum. It brought up the emotions of those times for myself and made me wonder what she must of felt too. Memories of going into a toy shop in Oakham, where she moved too, and the play park area there which we used to walk through to go into the town. Lots of high running emotionally charged feels flooded to the fore. I wonder how she must of felt each time I stayed with her and when she had to drop me back home in North Norfolk. It must of been a rollercoaster for her. The excitement that I was coming to visit followed by the harsh reality that I would be leaving again. The feelings of knowing she would have to drop me off and drive away and leave me again, like she had when she walked out. It also hit me that she still did this time and time again. That even though I sensed it as how she felt it it brought up exactly how I felt each time, dropped off and deserted. It’s shown me how complicated the early years of my life really were and nothing was ever really explained to me. It’s shown me yet again why the psychologist added complex PTSD to the bipolar diagnosis. It’s funny how when things are going well something from the past rears it’s head yet again. That’s life I guess.
Nothing gets easier. It’s a constant push. Money is always owed to me and I always owe money. I hate the stress of it. It’ll be the death of me. Heart attack or stroke. Who knows. It’s ageing me fast that’s for sure. A constant battle inside and out. Yet still I know I’m lucky. Nuts most of the time but lucky. Nuts I can live with.
The only thing I can do is to keep moving forwards. I have to be my own superhero. It’s the only way. I have to admit I actually do a lot in life even when I’m in inner turmoil. I keep going to work, I have to, and keep an outward look of being ok. It keeps me going I guess. Everything I do I try to keep doing and keep going. I try my hardest and it’s all good. Life can be very shitty but generally it’s pretty cool. It is what it is. Today I’m glad I’m me and that’s enough.
Huge anxiety again over several things. I’m still awaiting a payment from someone. There’s a couple of snags on a job that are easily sorted but also one which I can’t get my head around. Money is non existent and I’ve still not paid the mortgage. People think running a business is a money making machine but a very small business is often far from that. It’s famine and feast with mostly famine. I’m not sure what I can do to change things as my head isn’t quite right. I’ve got meds again and am seriously considering going up to a slightly higher dose again. I’ll see once they kick in again at this dose. Death is strong in my mind in many ways. A friend phoned last night to check on me. I’ve not had that happen before. I’m touched by it. He’s a good guy. I’m just not used to it I guess. I walk a lonely path. Maybe it’s time to broaden that pathway.
Every time I break or get knocked down I get back up stronger. I mend. I’m resilient. I grow. I find a way back on track. I will never be beaten fully as long as I have a breath in my body. I fight and continue to fight. The older I get the more I realise how fortunate I am in life and how much I’ve learned in life so far. I wish I could help others more than I do. Maybe one day I’ll find a way and find more strength so I can actively help others. I don’t know yet but if I can I’ll find a way. Life is what it is and I am lucky to have loving support. I’m not always easy to be around but when I’m well I try to support people back. A friend checked in on me a few nights ago as he was worried about me and how much I was posting on Facebook about death. It really meant a lot to me and possibly more than he’ll ever know. He was right. I was obsessing with death. I’d been looking at trees again looking at their nice high strong branches which I could hang myself from. I told nobody about it but it obviously came out online in things. Luckily it was yet another dip and blip. It’ll soon be the anniversary of my fathers death and I know this is what has affected me. I knew beforehand too but it doesn’t stop it happening. Im a survivor.
What to say? How much? How little? I’m off meds. Not exactly by choice but I’ve ran out and the prescription isn’t ready. I’ve no money to pay for it at the minute either. I’m awaiting money from customer, as usual, so I’m skint. I’ve missed last months mortgage payment too. I’ve had the builders merchants chase me as my account was over due. It’s shit. Such is life. The harder I work to get ahead the further behind I get. I personal bank with Lloyd’s and they rob me blindly because I use an agreed overdraft. They charge me daily for using it up to a total of £90 each month and they make sure they take about that much. So over the 18 or so months they’ve been doing it they’ve been taking about £90 a month. That’s rather a lot and yet another reason why I’m always in my overdraft. I get charged for going over the overdraft, when I do go over, and it’s usually because they’ve charged me why I go over. If I did this to a customer I’d get taken to court for theft. If a bank does it then it’s ok. It’s shit. I can’t see an end to the debts either at this rate. Ever.
Sometimes things are just shite. That’s just how it is. Shite.
The lyrics to the song say that suicide is painless. Is it? Really? Who for?
I’m shattered. I went to sleep early last night only to wake a bit early. I did manage to drift off again. It was a night of odd dreams. I can’t remember them all but I know they were vivid. One of them must of affected me badly as I woke up feeling slightly odd and contemplating suicide. Very strange. Obviously I didn’t take it further. Who knows what the mind truly does to itself. I’m tired. It’s doing my head in. I do my own head in.
In other news there’s now 14,777 subscribers to this blog. I wonder how many are robots. I have heard that a friend elsewhere in the country had this blog recommended to him by someone in his mental health team. How funny is that.
My life is far too stressful. I’ve had enough of it. I woke up before 5am with huge anxiety this morning. One of our cats sat on me because I’d woken up. I’m chasing money yet again. Every year I tell myself it will be different, I’m certain this year will be, but it seems like Groundhog Day over and over. I’m tired of the stress, tired of working so much, tired of how much of my mental capacity is taken up by it all. I feel I never relax. I never take time off for a break from it. It will be the death of me. I see others around me who seem to do so much better and work much less. I can’t figure it out. Nothing makes sense anymore. I’m sure it will pass. I hate all of the fucking clichés people quote. They’re shit. Bipolar does my fucking head in. Nothing makes sense most of the time. What’s the difference between being well and thinking you’re well? Delusion. Does anyone actually have their shit together? My memory isn’t great again. So much to get on with. I put myself down and each day I kill myself a little bit more.
And I’ve relaxed.