The little blue light of my soundcard blinks every second-and-a-half or so, asking me to switch it on. I'm not going to.
"Here Comes The Sun" is breaking the overbearing silence of my room right now.
The smell of beef is drifting from the kitchen, making me ravenously hungry.
I found out yesterday that my depression may have been a misdiagnosis. This angers me for several reasons. If I have been misdiagnosed :-
1) Why did my GP simply pass it off as depression in the first place? Surely one would place more emphasis on discovering a deeper rooted psychological issue?
2) Have I been taking medication that hasn't been aiding my recovery? Moreover, have I been taking medication that has been HINDERING my recovery, possibly with detrimental effects on my body?
3) Am I ever going to get better? Or am I now doomed to spend the rest of my life taking medication, having talking therapies of varied types and unable to conduct a proper life of working, earning money, forming relationships etc?
4) If it turns out to be a psychological disorder, why has it taken 25 years to discover I have said affliction?
5) If I have to go through a whole 'nother round of therapies, have I wasted valuable time fixing something I may not have?
A very close friend of mine refers to us (being me, her and several other sufferers of "Invisible Illnesses") as 'Veterans of the war', and now, I feel like a fraud. I have neither reason nor evidence to argue my point to her, but that is currently how I feel.
And no matter how hard I try, I can't shake the thoughts...
Thursday 28 February 2013
Saturday 16 February 2013
Saturday Scrawl #1
Saturday Scrawl #1
The day is sunny outside and the silence of the house this past week is broken by discussions of 'just how did horse DNA end up in beef?' and other such nonsense - The parents are home from their holidays.
Churned up emotions are settling themselves after what has been a funny week, but the brain is no closer to achieving a sense of purpose, regardless of the amount of caffeine and B-vitamins pumped into it with can after can of an energy drink that shall remain nameless (but the effect is Monsterous!)
Thoughts appear and disappear within a matter of heartbeats; ideas flare into life and are extinguished with equal speed and ferocity; feelings continue to cycle round and round the arid landscape of my psyche, repeating the same words over and over again in tones audible only to my subconscious, causing the demons within to respond in kind, threatening to overwhelm reason and decency with the illogical and profaned cries of a creature searching for something impossible to find with such brash and idiotic means. The digital pursuit of criminals while being clad in black lycra and kevlar does little to satiate the demons. The brain must turn to pursuits more taxing to satisfy it.
The day is sunny outside and the silence of the house this past week is broken by discussions of 'just how did horse DNA end up in beef?' and other such nonsense - The parents are home from their holidays.
Churned up emotions are settling themselves after what has been a funny week, but the brain is no closer to achieving a sense of purpose, regardless of the amount of caffeine and B-vitamins pumped into it with can after can of an energy drink that shall remain nameless (but the effect is Monsterous!)
Thoughts appear and disappear within a matter of heartbeats; ideas flare into life and are extinguished with equal speed and ferocity; feelings continue to cycle round and round the arid landscape of my psyche, repeating the same words over and over again in tones audible only to my subconscious, causing the demons within to respond in kind, threatening to overwhelm reason and decency with the illogical and profaned cries of a creature searching for something impossible to find with such brash and idiotic means. The digital pursuit of criminals while being clad in black lycra and kevlar does little to satiate the demons. The brain must turn to pursuits more taxing to satisfy it.
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