Recently I had a scare. I ran out of my antidepressants (both of them) and had to wait to get more. Where I was it was £80 for 6 days worth of them and I just don't have that kind of money.
The thoughts that these pills help to silence are insane. It put me back in the place that I had been in 2 years ago and I honestly did not know how to deal with it. In one week I had 3 breakdowns, I struggled to just have conversations with people and I couldn't concentrate on anything. However I was slightly prepared for it to be a lot, I just don't think I was prepared for just quite how much it was. And how completely mentally and physically exhausting it would be. This led to me writing last week's post. Believe it or not, being thrust back into a mindset similar to what mine was when I came home somehow got to me. It made me think about the fact that I am going through all of this, but I have never really talked about it to anyone. Yes I've given bits and pieces to people but it's painful to talk about. I honestly am so happy for the support that has come my way. The story had no names because this story has been played countless times before by countless amounts of people in countless situations. This kind of behaviour is never ok. The ramifications of these actions are huge. And often people don't feel they are able to share what is happening with people around you. Painful because it screwed with my head, painful because I don't recognise that person and painful because knowing about it impacts so many people that I love. But instead of cowering away from this fear and from my illogical brain I have decided to fight fire with fire (or madness with madness if you will.) Why should I spend my time keeping all of this locked up inside of me and letting it continue to keep hurting me? Surely that is how he wins? I left so he would have no more power over me, and despite him trying his hardest, there has been no contact. Last week's post is my story, it's what I feel comfortable with and able to share. I am 2 years into my recovery and there are still things I don't feel ready to talk to people about. There is still a tiny doubt in my mind that I've made a big fuss over nothing. And that is part of the issue. Yes, some people have it considerably worse than I did and some people have it considerably easier than I did. But this is my trauma. And I am choosing to own it, to face up to it, to accept that it has happened. Because wether I like it or not it is a part of me. But it does not define me. I am not my trauma. And you are not yours. Wherever you are in your journey to recovery, wether just starting or feeling considerably more in control, be proud of yourself. You are in the middle of the biggest unseen struggle. You, with the work of your tribe, have come this far. You are finding out who you are now, with this new added piece. But that is not all you are, regardless of how all consuming it can appear at times. And one very important tip that I have learnt the hard way is that it is completely fine to take a day. If you are completely exhausted and don't have anything pressing that day, then take a day. Go sit and cry in the car, go hide under your duvet, go and eat whatever you want, watch whatever you want, listen to whatever you want. All of the parts of your illogical brain will still be there tomorrow. It's not giving in, you're not letting the negative thoughts win. You are recognising that you are having these thoughts and that you are tired beyond belief. There is no way you can fight them if you are running on empty. You wouldn't run a car with no petrol in the same way that you can't run on empty. Take a day. Cry. Laugh. Blow snot out of your nose. Eat chocolate. Build a pillow fort. Hug. Sleep. Be just the tiniest bit proud of yourself. You are enough. You are not alone. You are ok.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
January 2021
Categories |