I will apologise in advance for the tone of this post (if I post it …) but I need to write this stuff down. When I first began this blog, it was intended to act as a form of writing therapy. Even though it has developed into something a little more arty, I still need it to be helpful to me in times of difficulty, and today is one of those times.
Today has been a very dark day for me, and probably the first time I’ve considered “turning off the lights” since early February, when I last begged the earth to just swallow me up.
I haven’t been on any medication at all for a month now. I weaned myself off a high dosage of anti-depressants in anticipation of finally being prescribed something that would address what appears to be a more accurate diagnosis. But the “experts” have decided that I should be completely medicine-free for the next three months in order to accurately record my daily mood activity.
Well, for the record, the mood has been swinging more than Michael Buble, and I am getting dizzy. I felt quite down for a while last week, but not terribly morose. The daily walks in the woods and the photography were helpful to keep my mind in a reasonably peaceful mode. Then, the upswing began earlier this week. Unfortunately, so did the flu. I’ve never encountered that situation before – one in which my brain is buzzing in overdrive, my mind is racing, my thoughts are fleeting, but my body is so full of cold, I can’t physically respond. Horrible, surreal situation … my physical, flu-ridden self needed rest, but my hypomaniacal mind wouldn’t allow it. Both aspects of me fighting each other tooth and nail, and, in the middle of it all I still had to function adequately enough to get my son off to school and do all the other maternal duties after he returned home.
And if that wasn’t crazy enough, my mood has now swung completely the other way. Not only am I full of germs, chest on fire, with a painful cough reminiscent of a 50-fag-a-day smoker – but I am really down. I cry a lot, I want to sleep a lot, and I want to crawl into a space and hide. Many people talk about how the flu “wipes them out” and they have to stay in bed all day and rest. Others talk about how Depression “wipes them out” and they have to stay in bed all day and block out the world.
Today, I have both.
And I’m not allowed to rest, because I have a child, and single mothers don’t get to rest.
So, tonight, while my son sleeps, I write – because writing is supposed to be therapy. I don’t write this to request sympathy, nor to inflict my problems on anyone or ask for advice. I write because writing, for me, places distance between that which is in my head and what is in my heart. I can’t allow what is in my head at this moment to infiltrate my heart – because once it wins that battle, there will be nothing left.
Writing down the nonsense that fills my brain right now takes it out of my head, disperses it onto the page, and dissipates it away where it can’t hurt anyone anymore. There are only two ways I can think of right now to make the noise go away … and writing is one of them. The thing about this illness is that this feeling will not last long … and within a few days, I’ll probably be singing to the furniture again. So despite how paralysing the lows can be – and this one is pretty crippling – I must remember that this will pass, and peace will return again soon.
© Alice through the Macro Lens