Am I Still Ill?

Separate yet connected. Well, today I managed it. I didn’t see a soul but I used the phone, text, email, letter and internet and didn’t miss going out at all. Correction. It wasn’t I who managed it. It was we. Me and my Higher Power.

As usual at the moment, I felt crap when I woke up. I felt like I needed fairly urgently to talk to someone one to one. I considered going to Central London to a walk-in counselling service like the one at St James’ Piccadilly, or The Samaritans head office. Hmm. Too far. So I made a couple more phone calls to try and locate someone nearer. My care coordinator or a guy at the local day centre.

Then I phoned K, dramatherapist and Dual Diagnosis Specialist extraordinaire! I realised that maybe I didn’t need to say as much as I thought I did. I was ‘coming to terms’ all in my own good time. K made me laugh and things didn’t seem so goddamn serious all of a sudden. I stopped my whingeing. She helped me reassemble the bits of Humpty Dumpty. Bless her. If they could only bottle what she does – crush it up and put it into pills. Gotta love her.

Can’t do any of this without you Higher Power. Can’t do anything much without you.

The postman brought a handwritten letter from Pentonville Prison. Poor M. He feels ‘defeated’. He didn’t try to say any crap about still loving me. In fact, he just sounded like he was writing to me mainly to stave off boredom, and to have an outlet to the outside. Banged up 23/7. Tomorrow he has his hearing at Wood Green Crown Court.

I spent the rest of the day reading some ‘Hub’ pages from a lady called mistyhorizon. First, very lengthy, article about ‘Living with a control freak’ (sorry, I can’t provide a link for some reason) described her relationship with a psychopath. I found her virtual ‘company’ very conforting as I became totally absorbed by this fascinating story, which, of course, I could relate to, and which actually made me feel as if I’d got off very lightly ‘only’ having had to deal with M.

She also writes at length about depression, which has prevented her from being able to work for some time. Is it real or a modern invention as some sceptics would have it? Haha. I don’t think I’ll dignify that question with a reply, except just to say…whatever. Why can’t non-depressed people simply be thankful that they have been spared and have the humility not to judge the less fortunate?

Besides, what about Robert Burton’s ‘Anatomy of Melancholy’? That’s hardly a modern invention. I dunno what these folks’ beef is, really. How about manic depression and schizophrenia? No such thing as them either? Nothing much that’s new about mental illness, as far as I can see.

I wrote M a letter, and attached it to an email to his social worker. Later found myself recalling the feelings of intoxication I had with him, as if he were indeed a drug. If I could access that intoxication now, or have it in pill or liquid form, I think I would at least be tempted. Knowing that, like all drug addiction, it would end in tears would probably cause me to refrain.  I’ve learned my lessons well. And M is safely locked away from me. I’ve got the chance to get well and truly clean.

Zoe x