Wednesday, 5 March 2014

99 problems but this blog ain't one... (sorry Jay Z)

It has come to my attention recently that blogging has its problems.

Let me explain...

When I first started blogging, I wasn't really getting out of the house. My days were spent staring out of the window, sleeping, knitting, writing, and I cant remember what else. Its all a bit of a blur.

 But you see, I didn't have massive contact with the outside world. And when I did, it was generally to try and do something positive or see friends that made me smile.

Things that upset me or brought me down were usually part of my depression, they were part of the illness, they weren't coming from external sources (ie other people.) Does that make sense?!

Nowadays, I'm feeling a lot better, I'm still on my meds but I'm working part time, and generally trying to live (which is a good thing of course.) However, the thing about living, is that you have a lot more contact with the outside world....

 Events happen in my week that can upset me, make me (more) paranoid, and generally pull me down. I accept that this is just a part of life, but these little events seem to affect me more than others.

They are external sources that exacerbate my depression and anxiety, and I'm struggling to fight them.

 My natural instinct is to write about them, to process my thoughts through the written word, which usually makes me feel a lot better. But you see, I can't do this now. I can't moan or rant and rave on here, because its too public. Yet I want to stick to the honest and open dialogue that I have always tried to maintain.

So what's the solution?

I have no fucking idea.

Which brings me to my next problem. Parents.

Hello Mum and Dad, sorry about my language, but if I cant swear on here, where can I?

Oh I jest, I jest, my parents aren't really a problem.... Mama Pig never used to read my blog, but now she is part of the Ipad generation (she's more high tech than me) and permanently attached to the darn thing.

My other problem is my memory (I'm only 27 but I think the alcohol has frazzled my brain cells...!) I literally cannot remember what I've written and what I haven't.

In fact, I have trouble working out what I've dreamt, and what is reality. Thoughts, conversations, words, images, all get very muddled up in my head, and I just have no idea when I'm repeating myself! Its a little bit annoying.


Next time you read this and I'm a bit vague, swearing in every sentence and repeating myself over and over again, you'll understand!


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