Hi, It’s me. If you’re a regular reader you may have been wondering what happened to those weekly blogs I’d vowed to publish. Well the thing is I’ve been a bit crook. My urge to write disappeared. Over the last month or so I’ve been finding hard to focus my attention on anything. My minds been racing. Thoughts, old ghosts, self-doubt have been surging through my head like a train through a tunnel. The thing that’s really knocked me on my bum is the fact that I’d convinced myself I was cured. I told myself that I was working more, riding my bike more, keeping the kitchen cleaner because I had a new zest for life. But the truth is I was trying to get my body to keep pace with my mind and in doing so I ran out of steam. I remember posting during mental health week and feeling so confident about my capacity to cope with the black dog, but just at the minute he’s out of the yard and chasing me up and down the street.
I was talking to a friend the other day and he commented that my little blogs always seem to end on a positive note. When I thought about it I realised that maybe there were a couple of reasons why I feel the need to tie up the loose ends. Firstly, perhaps in the past I went to one to many sermons where the vicar would sum up the meaning of life in a fifteen minute spiel. And secondly and more importantly life and all its half-finished stories, it’s twists and turns still frighten the shit out of me. I struggle a lot to find myself and when I’m a bit crook, I loose the struggle. At 56 I feel almost ashamed to admit I don’t know myself. For years I’ve looked for a sense of wholeness in lots of places. I’ve knelt down in churches and tried to pray . Gone on and still go on manic shopping sprees convincing myself that if I just buy that new phone I’ll feel better. I’ve looked for me in the past. Looked for me in other people’s versions of life. I’ve imagined, daydream, fantasized about how one of these days I’ll do something worthwhile. And in all those bullshit mind trips have come to realise if I don’t learn to like me as I am, I risk being lost forever.
My wife Caz, has been trying to get me to slow down for a couple of months. Ever so gently she’s been trying to tell me, ‘ I think you’re you’re getting unwell love.’ To my shame now each time I’ve responded with anger and denial. ‘ I know what I’m doing.. I don’t need you to tell me what’s happening to me.. I’m not sick I’m just angry and busy. ‘ But the other night when things caught up with me it was Caz that held me while I pleaded for my mind to just let me rest for a while. I’m lucky to have her . Lucky to be loved.
So now I’m waiting for an appointment at the clinic in Sunshine. There gonna review my medication and hopefully get the old chemicals back into balance. For my part I’m doing my best to slow down. We’ve cut back on the junk mail runs. I’m reading a book on building self-esteem and . I’ve signed up for a mindfulness class. And I’m hoping to make peace with myself.
Thanks for listening. Much Love, Baz.