Doing the right thing

More big changes come my way. Something I’ve been trying to avoid for years, today I agreed, nay asked, for.
Sorry to be so vague right now but I’m still trying to get my head around it and the shame I have around the whole situation.
At least I am doing the proper thing and if not fully taking responsibility at least owning the crap.

Yep. This is my mess.

Anybody got an enormous brush & pan to sweep it up with?!

More labels

Yesterday was a big deal, sick I chose mental health over physical and persevered with accomplishing my targets.

A super early start for a volunteer shift at a morning rave, trying my best not to breathe, cough or sneeze near anyone… this plague is a painful annoyance.
After a slow lunch and time in the park, I had an assessment at a CFS clinic.

The short version is that they can’t currently help me, and that I have PTSD. Not really surprising considering my history, and the plague & early start made it all a bit much.

It’s settling in now. I agree with him, I did at the time, but the recommendations he’s going to make are a heavy burden.

I’m to get onto the waiting list for Trauma Therapy. Something that will, by definition, be traumatic.

I should be getting regular psychiatric appointments, outside of and separate to therapy. Conflicted slightly about this as I’d enjoyed the feeling of no longer requireing this. But I’ve known for a while that I currently need it, so I guess that’s a bonus.

And finally, he wants me to start taking lithium. I don’t want to, for a whole host of reasons, and my former psych who I’m about to be referred back to, knows this and knows my reasons.
He was successful in getting me to take carbamazapine. I’m still struggling with the side effects of that one several years after stopping it. It’s going to be one hell of a struggle to swallow that pill. Bad pun intended.

I’m not well enough to properly process all of this, and not sick enough to put it aside. I kinda want to curl up in someone’s arms and forget about it all right now. That’s not possible, so junk food and sweets it is.

none

Longingly I gaze upon the wilderness

Salt water gently caressing my eyes

so close and so very far

long gone are the days of freedom

long gone is the option to lose myself in the long green of my vision

A longing so desperate it tears a crater within the brittle cage that holds back a dark ocean of yesterdays.

Paralysed.

The weight of bitterness too heavy to bear

Movement only in dreams, free to dance with the winds, singing limbs unconstrained by reality.

Life’s essence etches red tracks across the scarred landscape of the soft body.

The body that burns and grinds in protest at every shallow breath

fantasies of floods, red as death, washed down with the sweet saltines of precious tears.

Preparing, tidying up the failures of a lifetime wasted.

Leave no mess

leave nothing

but memories of failed dreams

Leave before compulsion drives this tattered fool further into darkness.

Already too deep to find a way out of the thick clinging stench of self-imposed prison.

buried so far down within torment, no chance of warming touch from sun

no freedom to move, no choice to be still

no peace

no quite

nothing but hell

Nature calls as she always does when darkness falls

Her soft voice whispering in the grass

triggering an embedded need to rejoin with her

My molecules becoming one with beauty, coveted so by a sad and jealous heart

Life’s beauty and ugliness pass by on missions unknown

Dreams of flight pervade my thoughts again

To be free of this cage

feathers where once were fingers

open air where once was hard ground

escape at last from this damaged fleshy prison

Never lasting the dream fades again to despair

Anger welling up, consuming, changing, until nothing but bitterness and pain remain

How do I tell the one I love that I am leaving

How do I ease her pain and show her this is the right path for me

I have failed myself and all my dreams

trained for incompetence

I’ve excelled at being the best loser

Ruined dreams lay broken at my naked feet

why change the habit of a lifetime

stay in the uncomfortable horror of the familiar

more than half a lifetime spent trying to untangle the painful mess, learn new habits, forgive old ones

Still I cannot overcome

I was made to be broken

and broken I am

Oh to touch the clouds, to soar above the trees, dive beneath the waves

Float motionless

gentle waves washing away the stink

Alone.

floating on the wind

cycled again and again until eventually consumed by the star that birthed us all

No more pain

no more suffering

sinking into oblivion

sinking into bliss

Nevermore trapped by the obligations of blood, flesh and bones

what reason to remain

to endure

to mockingly care for the tiny handful of life’s wonders, chosen to comfort and teach

Nurture failed, thoughtfulness lost

compassion a distant tool, hard to access.

stupidly repeating the neglect of old

A pretender to the crown

kindness assumed

worth mis-given by innocents

Tricked, deceived, manipulated

their memories will be but false creations, manufactured by the ultimate lie

I am not who you think I am

Cannot continue with this pretence

cannot live any other way

Unskilled, inexperienced, I’ve fumbled my way through this new existence

chosen to extinguish bile filled chaos

a fire only dampened down

embers still glowing after all these years

ready to spark ablaze the tinder and dry wood of pains so long ago buried

I want to go now.

Set my spirit free

Once upon a lifetime I had all the potential, and no choices

later, decisions made have borne weak and sickly fruits

Poisonous distractions

demanding more than their worth

draining dry the fragile resources gathered through broken promises

This lie I’ve been living can end

false positives always hanging over

Leave that world

leave this world

numb to both

rejected, dejected. Unknown, never was

Nothing left for the nothing person

surrounded by a mountain of memories

blocked in

blocked up

trapped

set it afire

it means nothing to anyone else

just trinkets and nonsense

Many lifetimes crowded into a space too tight

stagnant with the rituals of traditions long past

if they ever were

Free me from this cage

which path to choose

rivers of red seeping across the fleshscape

threads of poison reaching inside and strangling all meaning from a battered soul

a bright explosion, coursing pain, possible regret

then blackness

sweet featureless unfeeling blackness

the answer finally found

Here we go again

Finally received the dreaded letter, the one DWP have been promising for so long.

Apply for PIP now or have my disability payment stopped within 2 weeks.

Great.

Once again, another point based assessment done by a non medical, non sympathetic person who’s aim at heart is to remove me from the system.

Not that I’m jaded or anything.

Sigh

Hello Old Friend

I went to visit you today.

Standing tall and proud in your forever home, blanketed from the wind by a thick layer of moss. Freshly placed flowers at your feet, a gift from a friend. Looking out over your favourite house and able to admire the natural beauty all around you, any time, every day, its all yours now.

I cried, the first time I’ve cried since I got here four days ago. The first time its felt real since I got here. I walked up and hugged you, you felt warm and soft thanks to the moss, but strong and calm underneath, like the tree you now embody. You are the tree, you are the moss, you are the grass on the ground and all the plants around. Your ashes feed and nourish, giving new life to the bulbs your family planted for you. Come the spring birds and squirrels will nest in your branches while your dogs play around your roots. You may not look the same as before, taller, stronger and your colours have changed from blues to greens, but it is you, all you, definitely you.

So I finally say farewell my friend, but not goodbye, there’s a piece of you in my heart forever and if I need to see you, to talk to you directly, I know where you are. Watching over your loved ones from the great height you have now achieved, may this new life be a long and happy one, free from the pains that plagued your life before. Finally able to rest, may you continue to inspire others for generations to come in the beautiful peace and quiet that is your new home. I miss you, I love you, be well my Friend.

The sands of time are running thin

Life (mine, friends, family) has come to an undeniable and inevitable situation. Forcing me to live up to my word and do what I’ve wanted/claimed/tried to be doing for years.

It’s smack down time

I can’t hide any more. I have been overwhelmed, there are a lot of things that now DEMAND my attention.

No more hiding, no more subconscious delaying. Time to act. And time to accept that these things take time. Where’s that patient temperament I felt I had as a child?!

Too much to explain, I shall try to get it out, in small manageable bits. Physically, mentally, emotionally.

There is A LOT of work to be done.

Big bereavement issues to work through, the dead, the dying and those deliberately left behind.
Health, work, hoarding, terror of failure, fear of finding what I want, and that I might like what I want, I might succeed, I might, one day, be happy.

And I want it all yesterday.

This one’s a keeper

After years, most of my life, spent collecting things, acquiring stuff, getting great bargains and skip diving/picking up stuff others throw out.
Alongside having annual clear outs, fulling several huge bags every year, and donating to charity. Plus a couple times each year cleaning up where I can and throwing away bags and bags of rubbish & recycling.

Though it never made any difference. I carried on buying things I don’t really need while hyper and insomniac, people continue to give me their stuff that they don’t want any more and there is always something laying discarded on the street…. That I just have to investigate.

For many years I have been desperately trying to manage what I call my organised chaos. I asked for help, asking the wrong people. I tried asking the right people for help, I used the wrong words.
All the time my home got worse, becoming a prison of despair. social invites stopped as I became increasingly ashamed (there are other factors in play here too) and I, in the pit of depression, would often become overwhelmed and fantasise about setting fire to it and walking away. People rarely believed I was serious about that. I’m not sure I was either but I was serious about how badly the situation was affecting me.

It’s been not only an external representation of the inside of my mind, also a chain around my feet binding me to a lifetime of memories constantly tripping me up, holding me down, getting in the way of what I want to do and how I want to life MY life.

Just writing this down is an extremely emotional experience, triggering urges  to ‘fix’ these feelings by buying something or  eating even though I’m not hungry.

Worry not though as this story (hopefully) has a happy ending.

I finally asked the right people the right questions. Earlier this year I finally realised and accepted that this is, that I, am out of control. And that if I really wanted to fix this I had to seek out the right person. Which I did 🙂 so via my OT at the pain clinic, I got referred to a charity that specialises in this sort of thing.

This week they visited to do an assessment, before she had seen the whole flat I had been accepted. Shortly after I was declared as suffering with Hoarder Syndrome and given tasks to do before treatment begins.

It was a highly emotional day, bitter sweet in being recognised as in need of experienced help, whilst being Officially labelled as something I have known for most of my life but always told myself that I could handle it.
Emotionally I have been thrown back to the moment I realized that I had lost control of my crack addiction, that I was an addict and needed help. The helplessness of not being able to do it by myself, that I had to accept and admit a self perceived weakness at my inability to be independent. A heavy blow to the gut.
This new move and reach for help, this external recognition of my desperate need for guidance, this personal acceptance of all this.

I am a Hoarder and I need help