Not in a writing frame of mind today but I committed to nanowrimo so I must. Had a lovely walk along the beach with my mum and her cocker spaniel Georgie who is scrumptious. As soon as he saw me he threw himself on his back for belly rubs right in the middle of the street, the adorable little moron. It was really sunny and warm all afternoon, but is pitch dark now. I have no idea how the Moomins survived life in Denmark, it must have been bleak.
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Autumn is my favourite season. Autumn inspires me. It feels like autumn inside my head. I wish I was a spring or summer person, lively and energetic, posing by the sea with a beach ball, my bikini body supple from year round team sports. I have always lacked vitality though. Just a fundamental lack of energy. I've never been able to get out of bed in the morning. Sporting ability is something that has been denied me. I'm terribly uncoordinated too.
I suck at a lot of things, but I think I'm kind and decent and articulate. I'm quite romantic too but I've become a lot more jaded as I've gotten older. I'm not sure if I'm stand offish now or I'm just not desperate for love. It's hard to know what the right balance is. We all want to be loved, but do we want someone in our life to be a companion to share the load or do we need someone to fix us and fill the gaping hole inside us.
I feel like the gaping hole within me has closed as I have gotten older, and I still want someone to love but just not with the feverish fierceness I did when I was younger. I think I've just learned to love myself. Or accepted no one will ever want me. Hah, irony!
Lila has a tiktok account. Of course she does, she's nineteen. I don't have an tiktok account, I'm forty five. I can view her videos without fear of getting caught. The fear is still there of course, somehow she'll know, somehow I'll be exposed. Then the whole family will make all their social media accounts private. What will I do then?
Ray has five kids in total. He is a church going catholic, I don’t know if that’s the cause for his big family or if him and his wife just wanted a lot of kids. Big families like that are pretty rare these days but he’s well off so he can afford it. Lila is the most prolific on social media, and also the most classically beautiful. Blonde Shauna is the oldest and has two little kids of her own. She has a degree in events management, lives with her boyfriend and is a stay at home mum. Kerry is the brains of the family and has a degree in geology from a top university. She is pursuing a career in business. I'm sure she is the one her parents are secretly proudest of. She looks a lot like Ray and is very sporty. Son Keiran is next. He went to college in Oxford (not Oxford university). I don't know what he studied or what he does now. He keeps a very low profile online, but he's the absolute double of his dad when he was young. Then Lila is next, followed by baby Aisling who is in her last year of high school and seems bright and sporty. They seems like a very close and loving family. They post a lot of pictures of them all spending time together and hugging each other. They miss each other when they are apart and enjoy getting together. I’ve never really experienced this before. I’ve never felt very close to any of my family.
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Things got really bad after I dropped out of the university summer school. Things happened slowly, then suddenly they happened really fast. For a long time I been finding everyday life harder and harder to manage. I stayed at school as long as I could. They knew I was a good kid with a troubled past and they turned a blind eye to my absences. I didn't cause any trouble. I remember a teacher asking me to go to the computing department to type up a project and I felt terrified. I couldn't believe what he'd asked me to do. I stood there with a floppy disk in my hand desperately trying to come up with a reason why I shouldn't have to go and knock on a classroom door and ask to use a computer. It was overwhelmingly frightening, there was no way I could do it. I stood with my mouth flapping open and shut making, 'but.. but..' noises. Thankfully, another teacher who happened to be there mentioned the computer might not be compatible with the disk. I had no idea if this was true or not but my relief was palpable.
Life had always been difficult and stressful. I had always found interactions frightening. I felt like I was carrying a heavy weight around with me, and when I noticed it was there I realised I had been dragging it around with me for a long time, and it was getting heavier.
I was permanently exhausted. Plus these funny turns.
But there was nothing wrong with me.
At least whilst I was in school I could get away with not handing in work, not turning up. I was well behaved and polite. I could hide from life. I didn't bother anyone. I would be gone soon.
We left school. My friends all went off to university. I didn't. Things started getting very bad.
It's hard to remember those times. I know I'm not exactly well balanced now, but the state of treacle black malaise I was in is a difficult mindset to put myself back into.
Aching, aching loneliness, yet on the rare occasions I did go out with friends I felt like I was on one side of a pane of glass. It was a very real feeling. I could see the glass pane between me and everybody else, I just couldn't join them on the other side.
Complete loss of appetite. My mum was attending the local college the next town over at the time. She used to being me toast for breakfast before she left in the morning. I would be hungry when I first woke up, but if I didn't eat something right away the hunger would fade and I could go all day without eating. I had started losing weight whilst I was still at school, to the point people were speculating I was anorexic. I lost all interest in good and would eat a small dinner with mum when she got home from college in the evening. That was all I would have all day. My weight went down to 100lbs. I am 5'6'' so I painfully thin. I was also young and stupid so I thought I looked amazing, even though it hurt to lie on my front in bed as there was no fat to cushion my hip bones. My spine stuck out like marbles in a bath of milk. I was so proud. My periods stopped.
Complete and utter brain fog. My brain felt like it was full of cotton wool. We had a pet dog at the time, and she used to get six treats every night for her supper. I remember the struggle I would have, just trying to count out six biscuits. I could get a handful and count them individually, touching them with my index finger. I would get confused and have to start again several times. Just counting to six was such a difficult task.
Low, low mood. It was beyond mood. I wasn't sad. I was sick at heart. I felt despair physically, mentally and emotionally every second of the day, and time handily stood still so every moment last for an eternity of torment. The inertia was the worst part. I was flailing in this metaphysical sludge. I couldn't move. Forwards backwards, left or right. There was no up or down anymore. I was in a tunnel with out a light, just hovering in pure blackness, no end, no beginning. Just existing in a non existence.
I was exhausted. I was done. I was absolutely spent. Being alive was too much. I couldn't manage it. I was fundamentally flawed somehow. The pain I felt was unbearable but I was too exhausted to show it or do anything about it.
I had no friends anymore. It was just me and mum and home. My dad had long since stopped being a part of my life. I was at rock bottom.
I lay awake at night staring at the ceiling, time stretching infinitely into one long black night. I could hardly leave the house but when I did I stood by the edge of the nearest busy road thinking about throwing myself under a lorry. I didn't have a good reason not to, other than the fear I wouldn't do it right.
The doctor couldn't have been right, he couldn't. There's definitely something wrong with me.
With some effort, I made a doctor's appointment. I saw a really nice lady who immediately wrote me a prescription for anti depressants, a sick line so I could get benefits, and referred me to a family therapist.
I don't really understand that teenage girl anymore. In fact I find her a bit annoying. That shows my lack of empathy and understanding even for myself. Really it shows how far I've come. I'm not that terrified girl anymore. Depressives are hard people to deal with. They have a horrendous illness, but it makes them selfish, self absorbed, difficult people.
I'm better at talking to people now, even though I still find it stressful. I know I'm as good as the next person. The lights are on in my brain again, the inertia is gone. I still get glimpses or that blackness, it's never far away. I still fell exhausted by life. I'm just never going to cope with it well. I’m still terribly, terribly lonely. Therapy and medication can only do so much, and only so much is available. So I guess I’ve found my own coping strategies.
