Benefits Street,
Brighton.
February Ist.
I looked back at the very first of these very patchy blogs to-day. I couldn't remember when I wrote it, but I can tell that I was very, very angry.
I was going to delete whatever I had written last year; because last year lies under a pretty frightening fog for me, and so much of it is sketchy.
But I'm not going to axe them now that I've thought about it. Because last year I had a nervous breakdown. And I guess whatever the hell I wrote last year was what I was honestly thinking -so yes, I was very, very angry. And I'm going to own that.
Now I'm finally climbing back up out of that place, I can see that a person's brain doesn't just yell "Enough!" and pull down the shutters on a whim. The shutters only slam shut when it's already had enough. So I was aware of that fact - it had just never walked up and slapped me upside the head before.
Because this isn't the first time I've been broken. I was diagnosed with bi-polar when I was 12 - which was way before children were allowed s to have mental problems, let alone be medicated for behavioural problems. So yeah, I've known a few psych. wards in my time.
But, this is the first time I haven't been hospitalised when I've had a breakdown. And the first time I've ever had to do it without additional drugs. Or a shrink. Or support. It's the mental equivalent of giving birth in a shining maternity unit with a team of trained personal and supportive friends and the anonymous but seemingly numerous, loved ones.... and doing it on your own in a cabin in the woods with no running water.
But I'm doing it. And a whole lot of other things have just hit me upside the head too. The main one being that I'm a bit of a slow learner.
Because I've spent my entire life maintaining strongly and convincingly that the fact of being bi-polar has never made any difference to my life. I've gone on and lived it exactly as I would have done had I NOT had a tendency to the occasional bouts of do-lallyness.
All of which I have only now - NOW - realised, is a huge, steaming pile of bull-crap. Which might also have contributed to my huge, steaming, anger.
But I'm no longer angry. Because at last I realise that, actually, the whole course of my bizarre, crazy life has been affected at just about every turn by the fact that I do have a mental illness. I just never admitted to myself before that, dammit, I should - at least in the privacy of my own home computer - take a teensy bit more pride in everything I have accomplished. (And also, one day, get around to conceding that those things have not, in anyone's book, been negligible.....though with ancient, nunly injunctions against the Sin of Pride still running widdershins in my brain, conceding that may take a little more time.)
So I guess that finally, I'm coming out.
OK - not the "Hello, my name is Cireena and I'm a part-time loony.' Just, "Hey, this is me and I may be a bit of a fuckup but, that's never stopped me from doing anything I was determined to do."
So. Right now I want a chance to speak out? I'm looking for places that will allow me to communicate with people? I want the chance to do the things I know will make a difference?
Then why the hell am I Uriah Heeping around in the hope that I'll be offered something that might start me off on the long haul to getting known again? To having permission to do the only things I can do? I'm not the same person I was each time I scraped myself up off the floor and got going again, anyway. So I can't get known as her again.
And, apart from these recent, but woefully overdue realisations, I have a couple of new weapons in my armoury this time too - social media.
So I've decided to give it a go one more weary time...and to hell with waiting for someone else to see my glimmer of light way off in the distance. I may not be full of anger any more, but I still keep some of it on simmer when it comes to social injustice; and spousal violence. and the rap that people on benefits get; and the way Mears calls the shots on our lives; and the fact that we don't have a valid Voice.
So no. I'm not going to delete previous posts and start all over. The fact that there is anything at all posted in 2015 only shows that, despite almost losing my mind for good, I kept on trying. The fact that I did so in a muddled, spasmodic, unedited way is just the way I, at times, roll.
Gonna do what I can with what I got - and I'm not going to stop achieving things just yet.
I looked back at the very first of these very patchy blogs to-day. I couldn't remember when I wrote it, but I can tell that I was very, very angry.
I was going to delete whatever I had written last year; because last year lies under a pretty frightening fog for me, and so much of it is sketchy.
But I'm not going to axe them now that I've thought about it. Because last year I had a nervous breakdown. And I guess whatever the hell I wrote last year was what I was honestly thinking -so yes, I was very, very angry. And I'm going to own that.
Now I'm finally climbing back up out of that place, I can see that a person's brain doesn't just yell "Enough!" and pull down the shutters on a whim. The shutters only slam shut when it's already had enough. So I was aware of that fact - it had just never walked up and slapped me upside the head before.
Because this isn't the first time I've been broken. I was diagnosed with bi-polar when I was 12 - which was way before children were allowed s to have mental problems, let alone be medicated for behavioural problems. So yeah, I've known a few psych. wards in my time.
But, this is the first time I haven't been hospitalised when I've had a breakdown. And the first time I've ever had to do it without additional drugs. Or a shrink. Or support. It's the mental equivalent of giving birth in a shining maternity unit with a team of trained personal and supportive friends and the anonymous but seemingly numerous, loved ones.... and doing it on your own in a cabin in the woods with no running water.
But I'm doing it. And a whole lot of other things have just hit me upside the head too. The main one being that I'm a bit of a slow learner.
Because I've spent my entire life maintaining strongly and convincingly that the fact of being bi-polar has never made any difference to my life. I've gone on and lived it exactly as I would have done had I NOT had a tendency to the occasional bouts of do-lallyness.
All of which I have only now - NOW - realised, is a huge, steaming pile of bull-crap. Which might also have contributed to my huge, steaming, anger.
But I'm no longer angry. Because at last I realise that, actually, the whole course of my bizarre, crazy life has been affected at just about every turn by the fact that I do have a mental illness. I just never admitted to myself before that, dammit, I should - at least in the privacy of my own home computer - take a teensy bit more pride in everything I have accomplished. (And also, one day, get around to conceding that those things have not, in anyone's book, been negligible.....though with ancient, nunly injunctions against the Sin of Pride still running widdershins in my brain, conceding that may take a little more time.)
So I guess that finally, I'm coming out.
OK - not the "Hello, my name is Cireena and I'm a part-time loony.' Just, "Hey, this is me and I may be a bit of a fuckup but, that's never stopped me from doing anything I was determined to do."
So. Right now I want a chance to speak out? I'm looking for places that will allow me to communicate with people? I want the chance to do the things I know will make a difference?
Then why the hell am I Uriah Heeping around in the hope that I'll be offered something that might start me off on the long haul to getting known again? To having permission to do the only things I can do? I'm not the same person I was each time I scraped myself up off the floor and got going again, anyway. So I can't get known as her again.
And, apart from these recent, but woefully overdue realisations, I have a couple of new weapons in my armoury this time too - social media.
So I've decided to give it a go one more weary time...and to hell with waiting for someone else to see my glimmer of light way off in the distance. I may not be full of anger any more, but I still keep some of it on simmer when it comes to social injustice; and spousal violence. and the rap that people on benefits get; and the way Mears calls the shots on our lives; and the fact that we don't have a valid Voice.
So no. I'm not going to delete previous posts and start all over. The fact that there is anything at all posted in 2015 only shows that, despite almost losing my mind for good, I kept on trying. The fact that I did so in a muddled, spasmodic, unedited way is just the way I, at times, roll.
Gonna do what I can with what I got - and I'm not going to stop achieving things just yet.
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