crying / wandering in the rain / going nowhere

June 13, 2007 at 10:45 pm 5 comments

So. My day.

Has been shit.

Kind of.

I watched A Beautiful Mind earlier. My ex-landlord had a load of films burnt to CD that he gave me after he transferred them all to DVD. I’ve had them for ages, but found them again after cleaning up. So I’ve been watching films recently.

And I cried for the best part of an hour while watching it. I don’t know exactly why. Maybe various fears I have about going crazy were coming out. But I don’t understand why I can cry for a film, but not for myself. Afterwards, I looked at myself in the mirror and my eyes were red and sore. The single hour’s sleep I had probably wasn’t of great help either.

At some point before 9PM, I was just starting to watch High Fidelity, when I started feeling horribly trapped in this flat. It was raining and there had been thunder earlier. So I went out and walked around for a bit. Actually, I walked as fast and far as I could in one direction to get as much distance between me and here that I could. Racing thoughts, pure frustration with myself really. I circled back, got home drenched sometime after 10. And the whole point of going out and walking around in the torrential rain and coming home drenched is so that someone can say “Oh God, you’re soaked!” and get you to sit in front of the fire.

I have neither a fire, nor anyone to express their fears about me catching my death. So the whole exercise was pointless from that standpoint. And it probably says a lot that I was thinking about whether this was some kind of weird coping strategy I’ve learned. But I’ve never wandered into the rain like that before. The only time I ever stormed out after an argument with my father, I walked around and got home to find the doors bolted because my father was petrified I would get back and gas him and my mum in their sleep. So no, it’s not a learned coping strategy. It’s just me going vaguely crazy on one hour of sleep and I don’t even feel fucking tired yet.

I can’t see how any of this is going to work out. Nothing changes. Nothing gets better. I’m 25 and the job I’m not doing is a job I could have got when I was 18. Seven years on and I’ve acheived what? I’m still fucked up. I’m still desperately, painfully lonely. I gave life my best shot and all the effort I put into living amounts to nothing. I’ve been running as fast as I can to stay exactly where I was. All I’ve managed is to stay on the cusp of suicide, permanently. And when I realised there was no way for me to get better on my own, that I needed help to make my life something other than this guttering candle of lost hopes and missed opportunities and fading dreams, I found that the help that I’d always assumed would be there if I gave in and looked for it wasn’t really there at all.

I just don’t have the energy or resources to deal with all this. And yes, it’s probably the sleep deficit translating into some serious emotional instability, but that doesn’t make it easier to deal with. It doesn’t change the fact that nobody involved in my treatment seems to believe or care that these things affect me like this. Or that one day I will reach the point where the thoughts of suicide outstrip my reasons to hang on.

And ultimately, writing this gets me nowhere. Just keeps me stuck to the same place as always.


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To the GP on an hour of sleep Waking up is hard to do

5 Comments Add your own

  • 1. patientanonymous  |  June 14, 2007 at 2:03 am

    Oh dear. I’m sorry, love.

    I too can rarely cry for myself but yes, sometimes a film can get me going a bit.

    I guess it is perhaps a good thing that you at least got out of the house? I haven’t been *that* successful at doing that except for necessary appointments but certainly not for “pleasure” save one thing recently (and it basically ended up completely depressing me anyway.) Although I know your leaving was to escape a sort of madness and anguish.

    I wish I was closer so perhaps we could go out together and try to escape our own loneliness together…I’d drag you in from the rain and get you near somewhere or something warm…or perhaps we’d somehow create some pyromaniacal bonfire of all of our melancholic thoughts.

    I know this may sound trite and full of crap but your life doesn’t amount to nothing. I know it’s hard to believe when the thoughts just keep running like a broken record in your head and the suicidal bullshit just won’t seem to end.

    You say you keep “running” in order to try and keep up. Maybe you should just stop for a minute and catch your breath. It’s an exhausting battle to fight all of this. You say you’re out of energy…again, another reference to fighting so hard. I’m not saying give up the battle–not at all. It’s an eternal struggle as I’ve often said but sometimes we need to cut ourselves some slack and just…crap, am I making any sense?

    I guess I’m just trying to say be gentle with yourself and don’t beat yourself up about it. The mood instability is bad enough but it just makes things worse when we shit all over ourselves for things that are out of our control. There, maybe that’s a better way of putting things?


  • 2. experimental chimp  |  June 14, 2007 at 10:29 am

    PA: Thank you. Yes – you’re making sense. I’m feeling a bit better now I’ve had my prescribed six hours of sleep.

  • 3. patientanonymous  |  June 15, 2007 at 12:18 am

    That’s good, my dear. I’m glad you got some sleep. Sometimes I feel I do not express myself well when I talk about the pain that we all suffer with. I try to get it out on my blog but sometimes I think it’s just silly talk.

    You, however, dig very deeply. You have a different style of writing about the things that we all share but it doesn’t mean that I don’t feel it as well. I guess that means that we all have a different way of expressing ourselves?

    Just know that I love you, okay? I would like that to think that we have become good blog friends, even over the ocean. Geographical distance is only one obstacle. Thank $DEITY (a techie taught me that one) that technology can bring us closer.

    Even though I can’t be there to *touch* you doesn’t mean that I don’t want to.

  • 4. experimental chimp  |  June 15, 2007 at 3:10 am

    PA: Yes, I think we’ve become good blog friends. It’s weird this internet thing – you know more about me than most people I see face to face.

    (Your blog definitely isn’t just silly talk.)

    So, it does mean a lot to me that you read this stuff. Even if it’s only through words on a screen. I’m very glad I’ve met you.

  • 5. patientanonymous  |  June 16, 2007 at 12:52 am

    Awww…thanks! Yes, you are right. It can be rather strange to just sort of puke your guts out all over the screen. Some people choose not to and that is fine. Everyone blogs for different reasons and about different things. That’s what makes it interesting. But there’s nothing wrong with “letting it all go.” I mean, my blog is pretty much the place to do that and you are pretty free with your thoughts and feelings as well. I think it can be therapeutic.

    And thanks for saying my blog isn’t just silly talk. Sometimes I think about the way I just ramble on…

    *shakes head*

    I’m glad to be here to read. I too always find value in people reading my blog as well. It’s so hard. Lonely, lonely, lonely! WAH! It really sucks, though, you know? It’s like why do we all have to be so bloody far away from each other? I wish we could just have a big blogger’s party or vacation or something and all spend some time together.

    Might make more sense for me to just jump on a plane and come over to the UK? I could knock off (not kill haha) more bloggers I know that way *wink*

    Yes, I’m glad to have met you too.

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Hi, I'm James. I'm a 26 year old guy from England with bipolar disorder (currently well controlled). I also have a circadian rhythm sleep disorder (not so well controlled). This blog has charted my journey from mental illness, through diagnosis and, recently, into recovery. It's not always easy, but then, what is?


Self-righteous note about smoking

As of 12th September 2008 it has been forty five weeks since I quit smoking. So in another seven weeks it'll have been a whole year.

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