From nowhere, two weeks ago, I plummeted. A mental health nose dive of large proportion. There was a Saturday I desperately needed a hand to hold, and I came here to the blog comments and asked who was around. I mean it when I send my heartfelt thanks to those who let me know they were there. It got me through the shock of finding myself somewhere I had no warning or expectation to be.
I’ve been feeling quite rough since. I haven’t felt any nausea but the only way I can describe in words how I’ve been feeling, is to say it’s been like being on a mostly seaworthy boat, on open waters, with seasickness and just not knowing what is coming next.
Can I write? Should I write? Is it helpful or indulgent? I decide to write because if my children one day feel awful, maybe they’ll read my blogs and learn that ebb and flow is not just normal but is not to be resisted. Just let it happen, it’s awful, but I think these times can be fastest dealt with to allow it space to walk in then walk away, than it is to start a fight.
I’m not fighting. But I am doing a very hard stare. Ebb and flow. Ebb and flow. Breathe.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member.