Head Stuff

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I’m not blogging so much at the moment. It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t. My head is not in the best place again and I’m trying not to put pressure on myself.

I’m pretty crap at self-care usually, but right now, I know that I have to be kind to myself. I’ve shuffled things around in my diary, to give myself plenty of rest and to try and stop the overwhelm. I’m talking to a few close friends, who understand.

And it’s hardly surprising. If you’ve read this blog at all this year, you’ll know a lot has happened, and that’s just what I’ve shared. There’s been a whole lot more that I’ve kept offline, to give myself that degree of separation and for sanity and identity’s sake.

At the moment, my head is full of false narratives and I’m feeling low, tired, full of despair, lacking in any motivation and energy. I’m not suicidal by any means, but there’s very much a thought of just not wanting to be here that keeps revisiting. I take everything personally, I feel all of life viscerally. And it’s too much for me to process.

I’ve never experienced these feelings in my life before until this year, and it’s hard. I thought by the time I got to 40, I’d be a lot more sorted and stable. Ha!

And whilst my head lies to me, there’s another bit of me that says “this is temporary, it’ll pass.”

It is true. It will pass. I know that and fully believe in it. But I feel like crap in the meantime. All my creative spark is gone and I’m doing the minimum I need to, to get by. I get sparkier around certain people, feed off their energy. With others, I can just be this quieter, sadder, more introspective self and with some people, I’m a mix of both. I’m careful who I spend time and energy around, all part of looking after me.

I’m not good at asking for help and don’t always have the energy for words. I have an agreement with a couple of trusted friends that I can send something similar to the bat signal… it’s a pre-agreed emoticon and if I send it, they know to check in on me. It’s not perfect, but it works.

Earlier this week, I sent the signal to someone. My finger hovered over the send button for about three hours. I didn’t want to be a burden, or dump all my emotional shit on them, knowing they’ve also got heavy stuff going on. But the sensible bit of my head told me to do it and so I did.

It helped. Only a brief conversation but it helped me adjust my perspective enough to get a better grasp of myself.

Another friend and I now have an unspoked agreement and we’ve worked it both ways this week. It goes along the lines of “You need hugs, now get over yourself. Walk?” It sounds harsh, but it works. Yesterday, we went out with her dog into the countryside and could have been anywhere. We saw a roe deer and lots of smaller wildlife. No traffic, no people. It was good therapy.

I’m still taking the St John’s Wort and it really helps. I could go to the doctor but my experience of prescription anti-depressants in the past has been overwhelmingly negative. They numb me, kill my sex drive, make me more introspective, and don’t overly lift my mood. I don’t want to be numbed to life, I want to experience it in all its technicolor glory, just on a more even emotional keel.

So, I’ll keep doing what I’m doing, safe in the knowledge that at some point, this will pass.

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8 thoughts on “Head Stuff

  1. I really hope it does pass soon! I really admire you for how well you are caring for yourself and especially in asking for support when you need it. It sounds like you have a wonderful support network around you. As you said these feelings do pass eventually and it is huge that you can see that.
    Aurora x

    1. Thank you. I’ve been here before already this year. It’s uncomfortable to say the least, but I have built a trusted group of friends, ones I know who won’t drop me, and I know it will pass. I just have to see it through…

    your a very special person – you know that and we know it – just take some time out to concentrate on yourself – your most important and you will feel better soon
    lots of love and hugs and kisses

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