Tuesday, 26th July 2016

It’s been a very long week, and quite frankly I don’t know where to start when it comes to writing about it. I’ve not been very well, both mentally and physically, and I don’t know how to begin making sense of everything – but what I can say is that I seem to be on the mend, which is most certainly a positive.

Last week I was really not that great – in fact for the past few weeks I’ve not been in an overly great place in terms of my mental health, but with so much ace stuff going on with my family it’s been difficult for me to comprehend what I was feeling and thinking.

For me one of the main reasons I created this blog has been to clear out some of the cobwebs in my mind. I’ve always found writing to be a great way of getting things out of my head and somewhere else – I really like typing up how I’m feeling, and for a long time I was doing this without making it public. The past week or so has had me seriously wondering why I do publicly share everything – not in a negative way, I’ve just been curious as to why.

I think there are times when I write stuff and I think ‘this could be helpful for someone else’  but there are also times when I think maybe I share stuff through my blog in the hopes that those closest to me will read what I am blogging instead of me having to have awkward, uncomfortable conversations with them about how I am feeling. I’m rubbish at talking to loved ones about myself, I always have been – so I definitely reckon that sometimes I post stuff in the hopes that they will read it – of course there is stuff that I miss out though. Then, of course, there is the unexpected but wonderful incentive of blogging that came about when I began Dearest Someone, – the peer support. It’s so unbelievably helpful when I share what I am feeling and I find that others feel, or have felt the same – that’s something that you might not get when speaking to loved ones, or friends. It’s a different perspective that I hadn’t anticipated, and I am so thankful to be able to access. However, the last week has certainly had me questioning how far and how open I am willing to be through this blog – but, if I have a way to creatively express how I am feeling, and also, potentially help others – and seek support from others then there is no question about why blogging is good for me. 

Dearest Someone, is named ‘Dearest Someone’ because I initially wanted to write anonymous letters that went into detail about how I was feeling, and anyone, someone, (aka: you) could read them and take something from my experience. I quickly moved away from this, because I found that I liked to just be me, I liked writing personally and openly, and the benefits have been great. People have often commented saying that they are able to relate to my experience, and it certainly feels like I have built up a sense of community with those who interact with the blog, which is really special, and I am incredibly thankful for. 

Well, last Monday I was admitted to a mental health ward, as I haven’t been doing so great – but a lot of the time I was worried about not being honest to my family. And I was terrified that I wouldn’t be able to write about my experience because my family and friends would be able to publicly see it – however, I realised this is nonsense. My family and friends only read this blog because I’m not telling them whats going on, and something within me is working real hard to shift this. Writing for me is the easiest, most comfortable way for me to get out what it is that I am feeling and experiencing – I can talk to others, but naturally I find it easier to talk to those who don’t necessarily know my whole life story – or professionals who don’t judge. Of course family don’t judge (well, in some cases they can, but that’s normal – they always have your best interests at heart) it’s just I spend a lot of time filtering things because I don’t want to hurt my family.

A huge part of my ‘life story’ is that I don’t want my family to feel as though they are responsible for what I am feeling. Because they aren’t – my feelings are my feelings, and my recovery is mine. I’ve learnt that I need to do things at my own pace, but I’ve also learnt that I can’t keep doing the same things over and over and expect new results. I think I’m in a weird ‘figuring things out’ stage of my life at the moment – which is almost unbelievable for me giving the darkness that mental illness has caused over the past few weeks. However, something within me is fighting real hard, so I’m gunna keep (for my own sake) writing about and trying to make sense of what is going on.

And I can promise ya, I have plenty to say about my stay in hospital – it most certainly wasn’t the place for me, and I will try everything in my power to make sure that I stay healthy enough to never need to go back. There’s a lot of truth in the saying ‘the only way is up’ for me right now.