I haven't watched Holby City for four weeks - I have the episodes recorded, but can't make myself watch them. That's because I don't feel I deserve to enjoy anything and because I can't settle and concentrate for an hour. I don't listen to music for much the same reasons - it's because I don't want to ruin the music for when I'm well. I might pollute it at the moment, and I don't want to do that - music is too precious to me to lose it. If I listen to something that usually makes me happy or sad now, I don't feel those things and that is very destructive. It just reinforces the badness.
I've had lots of nice comments about the blog, but I can't absorb them. I can't relate to feeling happy. The blog is the one thing that keeps me partially sane. Ironically, I always said I'd write a book about the RAF, but I've never been able to put pen to paper - now it pours out of me and I can't stop it. I imagine that's a good thing - get the poison out - but it must be desperately boring for others. At least I'm not boring my friends face to face - people can choose whether they read this or not. I haven't read it back at all - maybe when I'm well, I'll give it a go.
My necessities in life are: fags, coffee, my computer and my smelling salts - to bring me back to reality if I have a flashback. These are my constant companions. Kate's is her iPad.
I wonder when the pall of gloom that means morning is coming will descend. It usually hits at about 0430, One time when I was in hospital, a woman used to come in as a day patient with severe depression and anxiety. She would stay up all night for 2 or 3 nights in front of a daylight lamp and that would make her better. I've shifted mild depression - depression lite - by staying up for a whole night before now. Quite obviously, it's not working at the moment.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?