I’m feeling the best I’ve felt since possible 2007 just before my mum got seriously unwell. She died in the Februaury of 2008 and I think, looking back, that I was pretty mentally unwell from when she first went into hospital and into intensive care. It escalated from there. I remember the journeys to the hospital vividly and the routine and ritual of having to ring the bell to be allowed in to ICU and the having to use the alcohol based had steriliser. The smell lingers with me and will forever as will the white noise of various machines and sounds. I can remember how they would draw the curtain around and we knew that meant someone had died in there and they were wheeling their body out.
Recovery. What a strange thing and a strange word. As strange as it is I’m really enjoying it. It’s made me realise even more how seriously unwell I was mentally. Shockingly unwell. How I never got noticed for the odd behaviour and how I never got sectioned I’ll never know. I’m actually making plans for life, something I had tried but was so out of it they were all very crazy things, and they’re grounded plans. I’m learning things all of the time. I’ve realised how much I’ve learnt about myself over the last few months through seeing the psychologist. Talking of which I had my last booked session last Friday and can get referred back to her if I need it. What was very surprising was talking to her about how far I’ve come and a few other things. She told me how great it is to see someone recover and understand like I have and do. She was surprised t how deep I went with the therapy and said that lots of people can’t go that deep as it can just be too painful for them and too much. For anyone reading this and who have really struggled with therapy I can really relate to it and however far you’ve been with it you’ve done really well. Never forget that you are amazing and you’re so very strong. Keep going no matter how shit things can get. It’s really worth it.
Last nights dreams…hmm. I had several dreams in which a friend of mine featured really strongly. In fact the dreams were fully about him. I woke a few times from the dreams then went back to sleep again and dreamt about him again. It’s obviously on my mind and I’ve been working crazy lately. I’ve fitted in decorating a whole bungalow out in my spare time the last week and a half. It’s made me realise how much I miss people who’ve died. The friend I dreamt about killed himself last December. He’d tried a couple of months before and the way he did it was quite horrific. I think that’s why it’s on my mind so much. It’s made me realise that the few times I tried to choke/hang myself and didn’t manage to kill myself were one hell of a blessing. I’m very fucking lucky to be alive and to be level and in recovery. Very lucky. I’m making a few plans with life again now and they’re very realistic plans instead of bullshitbollocks bipolar crazy ones. They’re grounded this time. Thankfully. All I can do is keep going and keep trying my best. Life really is very very precious.
