There is something incredibly healing about being so close to nature and having the time and freedom to just explore. I challenge anybody not to be calmed by the beauty of a sunset over the painted cliffs, the vista atop the peaks of Bishop & Clerk, or a baby wombat poking its head out from mum’s pouch for the first time.
When the burden of being a burden becomes so burdensome the burden can no longer be bourne, it’s crunch time. Disappear into Wonderland with the big white rabbit, going permanently mad? Or just go – permanently? Or do what needs to be done and reach out? Clearly the latter is the healthier option.
I identify really strongly as “the girl with the eating disorder”. I need a better identity in order to move past this one… I get asked from time to time what to “do” to help or support me. I’m usually flummoxed by this question. I have no idea how to help myself – how can I provide information I don’t know?!
A coded question, that in some circumstances, is a call for help. When struggling with some variety of mental health problems, it’s […]
It’s my 53rd birthday today – I’m ten years older than I used to be. And potentially ten years younger than I’m going to be. I don’t know if that makes me young or old – I think it just makes me 53.
During the last week I had a rapid escalation in suicidal ideation. As each day became more exhausting than the last, the desire to succumb to eternal sedation was overwhelming. I sobbed my little heart out in a manner I can’t recall doing for a long, long time. I could have reached out to any one at any moment in time, but when I desperately yearn death, the last thing I can do is tell anybody. Telling means acquiescing to living and I have to be ready for that. But more significantly, telling someone means burdening them once again with sadness and worry.
As I may have mentioned once or thrice, I suck at art. And the thought of doing art therapy leaves me feeling cold and slightly nauseated. However, it is also true the art therapist is not only a lovely person, but also a very good therapist. Plus she’s nice to me – and by that I mean, she often lets me write in lieu of drawing. So here’s a few of my art therapy, “works of art”. Spontaneously produced. Unedited. Raw. Cheerless…
Same old, same old. Neither better nor worse. I feel my depression has sunk pretty low and I spent a lot of today mapping out “exit” strategies. But I also communicated this with the registrar and have requested to have my dose of pristiq increased. She’s also modified my leave to “escorted” which is fine by me.
A friend of mine has encouraged me to share my private journals of inpatient. I hope it’s not triggering for anyone. It’s deeply personal. And I’ve made every effort to remove identifying information of the clinic, staff and patients. It’s a long read! But this is what life is like.
I am a master procrastinator. Yes. It’s true. When I want to do something, or necessity dictates I have to get off my butt right now, I’m an amazing gogetter. But when I’m feeling a bit blergh about something, or don’t really want to do it, I can out-procrastinate the world champion procrastinators. In fact I believe if there were such a competition, I’d be inclined to win.
I’ve been away (again) for four nights – in a beautiful shack by the sea for a couple of nights with a friend, then a couple of nights with my husband (not friend and husband at the same time – just to be very clear for anyone wondering). It’s time to go home today, but I was thinking how very calm and peaceful I feel while I’m here – for myriad reasons – and it occurred to me – I’m very much a nature gal
Ever been really excited to go to the movies? Waiting and waiting for the release date and you just know it’s going to be great because it has your favourite actor in it, and you loved the book when you were 16, and your oldest friend who you never have time to catch up with can’t wait to see it with you. Finally it’s available on the big screen and you’re too busy working, and getting a root canal, and organising driving lessons for your own 16 year old, so the movie is down to the last days of showing. Two days before it leaves town, you finally go with a group of friends.
I used to be gung ho about making New Years’ resolutions – now I know better. I am old and wise. But that is not to say this is not a good time to reflect on the year that has been and put behind me those moments I never wish to see again. We all have a few of those – of that I am quite sure. And to look ahead to new beginnings for the year ahead and make plans for both the would-be hedonist who loves to live it up whenever she has the opportunity, and the practical lass who knows we all have responsibilities and that – occasionally – bills must be paid.
I’m fortunate I have connections and love in my life – I am very blessed in this department. As a child, love was conditional and I felt emotionally disconnected, which had a big impact on me. But I am no longer a child, and now have strong, loving relationships and connections. I cannot imagine where I would be without those connections. In fact, I cannot imagine I would be here without them.
As I feel myself sliding, down, down, down again, I want to make a really concerted effort to focus on ups – not downs. I went for a walk after gym this evening, and for the first 20 minutes I found myself falling into heavy, dark, unproductive thoughts. Then I remembered I’m supposed to be retraining my brain to think of a positive future. So I tried remembering happy times in my life – peaceful, simple times, with family and friends.
![A HAPPY MEMORY [OR A FEW]](https://i0.wp.com/simoneyemm.com/wp-content/uploads/2019/01/38616166144_9126473dfb_o.jpg?resize=700%2C485&ssl=1)