In Blackest Night – I Wrote A Blog Post; I Lost It, So Here’s Another
I generally keep my WordPress open in Chrome. I usually refresh the page before starting to blog but yesterday I must’ve forgotten. I spent over an hour squeezing the words out, checking what I wrote made sense and then squeezing some more out. It was like a really bad shit you have to work out using maths (in fractions).
I wrote of how I’ve been back in Wales for a few days since a short break in Scotland. I wrote about how I didn’t feel like I was back home. I wrote about this weird feeling that I haven’t experienced before and how horrid it was. I wanted to document another stage in my ‘journey’. But I couldn’t even get that right.
Today, my head feels less ‘sloshy’ than I wrote about yesterday. My head felt like it had liquid sloshing around inside and that my mind felt detached from my being.. It was as if I was seeing through my own eyes whilst simultaneously watching myself from afar. Perhaps that explains the bizarre feeling.
I also wrote about my recent GP appointment and how, only now, are they looking at the root issue and taking steps to diagnose my condition. While I display symptoms of depression, there may be more to my mental (ill) health. I’ve refrained from looking into other mental disorders to avoid extra concern which would worsen my symptoms as well as prevent any psychosomatic input.
The suicidal thoughts have been more prevalent this past week or so. No actions taken but analysing and weighing up success/failure rate. I’d do it if I had a scenario that had a 95% chance of success. I’m not going to fall foul of the chance I survive or end up fucking crippled or some shit. It has to be death or nothing. But, until I can find a sure-fire way, I suppose I’ll just keep plodding on.
I’ve been trying to think how I move forward–for every good day (although they are very rare) the bad days that follow are exponentially worse. My wordsmithery has faltered and my written work has hit a brick wall. I’ve been told I think too much and my reaction to that was “How the fuck do I think less?” I feel similar to a shark in that, if I stop thinking, I will die. Metaphorically speaking.
Yes, I tend to over analyse things. Yes, I have a habit of reading into things. No, I don’t have an off switch or a lever I can pull to reduce the activity in my brain. Despite the traffic levels in my skull, I have very little to show for it. It reminds me of this line from “New Low” by Middle Class Rut (the video is below):
So many directions I don’t
Know which way to go
I’m so busy doing nothing
I got nothing to show
I don’t know why, but my days just aren’t productive. My mind and body feel so overwhelmed that, instead of making the most of my time, I just ‘stand still’ like a rabbit caught in headlights. I just coast on by. Which reminds me of another song, “Telescope” by Cage The Elephant (the video is also below).
In a far and distant galaxy
Inside my telescope I see
A pair of eyes look back at me
He walks and talks and looks like me
Sits around inside his house
From room to room he moves about
Fills his life with pointless things
and wonders how it all turns out.