Thick Fog Has Descended

Jump to Comments

This is what my head is like at the moment, a thick fog has descended, I cannot see forward I only know what was behind me. None of what I can see or remember is accurate because all my attention has to be put into trying to find a route through the fog, and all the fog is altering my perception of the past and future. I don’t want to go to CAMHS today, the person I have an appointment with is very risk averse, I cannot cover up the fog and I don’t want to worry anyone. This fog was a mist yesterday, it was there but it did not impact me too much. I could challenge the thoughts while still navigating through the clouds. Today it is so thick that I have no energy to challenge, I am sick of challenge, I want a rest. This is me today;

1. Unaccountable difficulty with carrying out what are usually considered “automatic” or “mundane” tasks by persons whom are healthy, (i.e., without depressive illness), such as taking a shower, putting on clothes, self-grooming, preparing food, brushing teeth
2. Real physical difficulty performing activities that normally would require little thought or effort, such as walking up a flight of stairs, simply getting out of bed, clearing dishes from the table, straightening a room, vacuuming, taking out or throwing out trash, doing laundry

All the memories in my head are so inviting, just to escape from the present to forget that I exist and that I need to work out how to navigate away from this weather. So indulge me while I talk about past memories. I am nostalgic today. I miss the good times, the times when happy was an emotion I knew well,  the days of laughter at the smallest of things, my innocence surrounding the world. When I still didn’t know that certain things were wrong, when I thought that a happy person was someone who smiled, when sad was when a pet died. I am even missing mania, it always seems so inviting when your mood plummets. I can imagine the joy of rushing around, of bright clothes, of music in my head, believing that I would write a more influential book than the bible, thinking I was an undiscovered genius. I miss everything; of being a lanky child, of being laughed at about my rather posh accent, of practicing timetables on the tube on the way to school, my old bedroom in islington with its yellow walls and creaky floor. I miss being the slim girl, the pretty girl, the girl who was brave and popular. I miss looking like this (I am the one with brown hair). I don’t want to be the fat, girl, the ugly girl, the lonely girl, the girl who looks like this. I defiantly don’t want to live in hertford, or to take all these pills, to not sleep, to constantly hate myself. I hate the way that I am not helping myself; that I am listening to this song which was the one I listened to when taking the overdose that landed me in hospital the first time when I know it will do nothing for my mood. That the only thing I want to do is sit in the garden in my PJs in the rain and cry. That I am considering not going to CAMHS today. How is this going to help me? And then I wonder why I am making no progress.

Last line…

Sometimes I need to let my anger out about this shitty illness and the lack of progress I am making. Sorry that this blog has turned into a rant recently, normal service will be resumed soon. But today join me in my blog scream, in the comments below or at 12:00 GMT join me in a scream, or a wail, or shout, lets make some noise.

15 Comments

Filed under Health

Tags: bipolar, CAMHS, depression, fog, greif, Health, music, retardation, sad, sick