Anyone that knows me or has read some of these blog posts will know that I have a few mental health issues that I am dealing with day to day. I am way too over emotional, EVERYTHING affects me. I cry about the stupidest things and I can sink into a depressive funk at the drop of a hat. Not to mention the anxiety that sticks to me like a cold, wet blanket that I am dragging around with me, trying not to drip my issues on anyone whilst at the same time hiding behind the cover of, peeking out to make sure I don’t get run over by the occasional bus. Yes, you could say I have a few issues.
However I am somewhat of a paradox, because even though I have these days of complete and utter darkness, where nothing can get through that blanket that I’m drowning and being held under the weight of; I also have days of cool, clear clarity. On those days I feel free and unimpeded by the blanket that usually blinds me. I find myself looking at the world with different eyes, able to see the world around me and interact with people without feeling like that wet blanket that usually holds me down. I can see God in the beauty of my surroundings and in the sudden lightness in my chest, no longer constricted by the dark forces that burrow their way through random anxious thoughts and neuroses. It is on those days that I usually find I am able to write, because those are the days that I can function normally – well – almost normally. I don’t think anyone that knows me would ever call me normal! Cranky – maybe, eccentric – possibly, living in a complete and utter fantasy world – probably, confused by simple, everyday small talk – definitely, holding on by a tooth of a comb – absolutely… normal? Not so much. But certainly better able to function. I am pleased to say that I am having more and more of these kinds of days, so normality (whatever that is) could be almost within my grasp!
Today I find myself in one of those days. My anxiety level is pretty good. Not leaving me gasping for air like a beached fish as it often does. I am not feeling depressed, unable to drag myself from my bed, but actually quite happy and optimistic and enjoying the routine of the bus journey home from college for the first time since I started college back in September. In fact, usually my bus journeys would be fraught with anxiety yo-yoings of various degrees but today I have felt completely content to sit on the bus, have the occasional sip of my juice, read a magazine, gaze out of the window and not worry about other people or external issues at all! What a pleasurable change it made.
However I did find myself feeling somewhat older! My middle-agedness kept jumping up to slap me round the face and blow raspberries at me. I suddenly got the impression that a lot of my depression is simply related to my middle-agedness. That maybe I am not aging gently and seamlessly from my younger carefree childish self through the older more responsible, thoughtful and organised self and on into the wise, reflective, settled self. No! I am being awoken to the sudden awareness of the fact that I seem to have sleep-walked through an entire mid-life transitional phase to find myself reflecting back from the world around me and seeing an older woman that has rather more regrets than experience, more memory gaps than knowledge and far more faux pas and wasted opportunities than steps up the social and career ladder. Not to mention the fact that EVERYTHING these days can be done on your phone! Well not my phone because all mine does is make and receive calls and texts – it’s behind with the times rather like myself. But on everyone else’s phone! On everyone else’s phone there seems to be a hidden world of magical tools, creative experiences and sensational social windows that I simply cannot access. Maybe if I get a new phone, my middle-agedness won’t be so prominent! Just a thought!