Tuesday, 31 October 2017


I am in that glorious state of illness where I am kidding myself that I'm actually ok. 

So what if I have cried for 5 hours straight?

I have managed to go to the supermarket. 

I didn't buy shit food.
Or binge eat. 

I have cooked a healthy meal n eaten it. 

I have washed up. 

I have spoken to my mobile phone provider about going sim only and upgrading my handset. 

I have been for a run with the dog in the cold sunshine. 

I have plotted which swimming pools are open, when. 
So I can properly plan training for next year.

But oh my god am I raging?
I am anxious to the point of not being able to breathe. 
This sets off the crying again. 
Then I can't breathe because I'm crying.

I am hateful and filled with anger at the smallest thing. 
I have all of the swears. 
New ones.
Rehashed old ones.
Abusive ones. 
Favourite ones.

I am intolerant. 
Yet find myself being patient to those who have let me down repeatedly. 
This who failed to deliver. 
I don't have tolerance for the things I know I should and usually do. 

There is no rational behaviour.

My house is desperately untidy. 

I hate going to work. 
I am intolerant of my colleagues.
I am angry at not being supported. 
I can feel myself turning my nose up at the collusive behaviour, disheartened that I am part of this and am helpless to make it stop.
I can feel myself disengaging from the world. 
I could merrily blow at any given point. 
Something has to give. 

Currently, depression and my mental health feels like a volcano, ready to erupt. 
It could blow at any point. 
Or it could sit, dormant. 

Blowing would release all of the things. 
But it could blow for ages.
Being like Iceland and causing maximum disruption.

Or it could slowly just bubble over, for as long as it took. 

But none of this matters. 

Cos I'm ok. 

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