Another year gone, wasted, failed.
Another year I have survived.
Another year I have fought through.
The date has arrived that I couldn't imagine reaching.
Maybe its not about what you have achieved. Maybe its about the journey you are on, and the person you will become.
This time last year I had a boyfriend, was contemplating marriage, and I was working full time. I thought everything was sorted. I considered my boxes ticked. And I was awaiting the happiness drug to kick in. But it didn't. Because deep down, scratching away at the back of my mind I knew something was wrong. A nagging feeling. A constant itch. A big knot that you can never get out of your hair. A pimple that just keeps getting bigger no matter how much cover-up you use on it. I felt like I should be happy. That the pieces to my jigsaw should be complete. Even though if I really opened my eyes, I could see a massive big hole missing in the middle.
I had completely lost myself. So many mixed messages had been poured over me. Drowned me. Trying to mould me into something else. Something un-Susie like. And I didn't have the strength to resist. The black dog had taken up residence. I had to break out, and I had to get help. I was so tired of being consumed by feelings of failure and suicide.
When I look back on the particularly on the last year some of my erratic behaviour suddenly makes sense. I was so paranoid, so confused, so frustrated with myself, it was a relief to get a medical diagnosis.
And so again Susie is wittering away...repeating herself...without really knowing what her point is...
I think I just want to remember that life never stays the same. Its not as constant as we sometimes think. It flows like the sea, rising and falling with the waves. When darkness is never-ending, all consuming, you cant even imagine or contemplate that a little chink of light will break through.
But it does.
And it will.
I am living proof.
Like many other people who have also seen a glimmer.
I'm often so frustrated with my progress and so angry with myself, but really, when I sit back and think about the things I can do now compared to 3 months ago, I have taken some huge whopping great giant steps...
- I went to Wales
- I sat and had dinner with my family every night whilst we were away
- I rode a horse
- I cooked Christmas dinner (how on earth, I have no idea, drug induced state maybe?!)
- I have found coping mechanisms, writing, painting, walking, running, spinning, knitting
- I have rediscovered buses
- I went to London!
- On the train!
- And the tube!
- I am writing this list, which is a bit of a miracle in itself to be honest
- I have been left on my own, and I was OK
- I have busted some crazy dance moves with my nephew
- I have laughed (sometimes uncontrollably)
- I have got out of bed
- I have put different clothes on when all I want to wear is my pyjamas and pink dressing gown
Well actually black dog, I'm not asking for a pat on the back. I don't want a well done. I'm here. I'm not acting anymore. This is it. This is me.