I seem to have reached some sort of stability over the last few weeks. Things look clearer and a lot less bleak. I can see beyond tomorrow even if I don’t want to look there because it’s a terrifying scary place. At least it exists though, that has to be a start. My concentration has improved many times over and I’m now getting things done albeit in a haphazard, incomplete kind of way. I can’t believe the change in me, events of the past six months seem crazy and out of control. How could that have happened to me? What possessed me to do such things, how could I have lost so much control? And why is anyone in the real world still speaking to me after all that?
BUT (and there always has to be a but in this sort of story) it isn’t easy. I’m terrified of losing it all over again, past performance suggests I will and I really don’t want to go back. I still get knocked off course by the most inconsequential of events – a throwaway remark can leave me reeling for hours. I have to accept that I’m not well, I’m just less ill. That’s hard for me though. I see in black and white, either I’m well or I’m ill. And since I’m obviously not ill like I was, I must be well. Therefore I should be perfect, nothing should bother me. I should go out, get a job, map out a future, achieve everything with no effort, next stop the world etc. Deep down I know this in unrealistic, I just have to settle for what I’ve got for now and enjoy it as much as possible while it lasts. Ignore the bleak hours, work through them and move on because for now they do pass.
I just hope this is a corner turned for good but somehow I doubt it.