Tag Archives: black comedy

I’m about to fall

Have you ever had a bad mental health day where you feel so down that when you walk around, you feel like you are about to pass out or that whenever you hear yet another bad thing turn up in your or your loved ones lives, you feel like you are about to drop where you stand?

I’ve been living in this kind of state for about a month now and it’s getting worse.

 I suppose if there has to be a positive note about it, at least I am not as suicidal as I was between 2013 and 2017, I suppose that is something.  But I can’t describe exactly why I feel on a constant state of near fainting, just because of mental stress…

This is one of the major reasons why, in spite of being physically ill, I have struggled to put words to paper for a while.

I have had two nervous breakdowns in the past, this is not like that, it feels different and the difference is scary!

It’s scary because it feels like I am so down in the dumps that my own heart is starting to pack up – because I have palpitations and my blood pressure is sky-rocketing even on Ramipril!

No I haven’t spoken to a doctor about it, because I don’t want therapy (of the mental kind), it makes things worse (experienced it, thank you).

The thing is, I have identified my problems, I have acknowledged what they are and worked out a method of overcoming them, but it is totally impractical right now, when I am too sick to do those necessary self-care essential things and what is more, I do not have the money to make one major difference possible.  You might say that money isn’t everything, but you know, for me, right now, it is a matter of if I have more money; I have a means to move out of one home and into another.

Now this is where the big Catch-22 comes into play!  You see, I know I need the money to do the major thing that will uplift me, but I am too sick and depressed to motivate myself to do it.  So until I decide at some point that I must suffer through the work in order to get some money, I won’t get through this!

I don’t have a support network that I can lean on and say… remove myself for a respite break from my current situation and get my thoughts together, then come back to it in a month or two – otherwise that would be exactly what I would seek out right now, someone who’d tolerate me for a month or two.

Because I don’t have that reprieve, I am more or less stuck, until my depression allows me to do the work I need to.

I am not using my depression as an excuse not to do the work, but if you knew how my depression is presenting itself right now, you would know that I am sleeping thirteen hours a day because I dread waking up each day, I wake up with the instant thought of “oh fuck it, I survived the night, how delightful” with the most sarcastic stance you can think of!

“Why, oh why, couldn’t I have drowned in my COPD mucus during the night?  What other kinds of shit experiences does the universe want me to experience today?”  Yes, I wake up with such enthusiasm.

Then I am made to feel guilty at 8:00am when my son bursts into the bedroom full of smiles and love for me and wishes me a great day, as he skips off to school!

Conflicted – much, I stay alive for him you know…

I think he knows it, he has planned as soon as he leaves school to become a father, so I must care for his grandchildren as a glorified unpaid babysitter for him.  Oh joy, no that’s not sarcasm, that is sincere, but then when can I feel that nobody needs me so I can just die?

That’s how I feel these days, I am literally plodding on like a zombie, one that is about to falter at any moment and it’s scary, but it is also exciting because… have I gone so far in my depression my body is finally going to give out?  Because, though I want things to get better for me, I feel hopeless, so in a big way, I am excited about death.

For those with a dark sense of humour you may find comedy in the fact that despite what I am saying here, I am drinking eight glasses of water a day, reducing sugar and fat wherever possible and has a mostly plant based non-vegetarian diet, meaning I do eat meat but it’s like 25% of my diet.  On good physical health days, which are not often, I do try and partake in high intensity interval training (HIIT) on my exercise bike and jogging or skipping on the spot five to ten times a day for 3 minutes a time.

To say I am not at war with myself would be laughable.

But that’s how it goes.

Thank you for reading!

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Horror and mental illness

One or two of my poems have been considered to be short stories in my mind by me, I thought this was enough – however my husband and a friend of mine mentioned to me yesterday that some of my poems are moreish and therefore they feel that I should work on making them into a larger story preferably novel sized piece.

My husband is quite persistent about two of the poems I’ve agreed would make a better larger story, therefore he is straddling me to the grindstone and making me get to work on them because I’ve been procrastinating on my leprechaun comedy for eleven years now and I am losing enthusiasm for it.

I’ve been advised by a friend too, that my fantasy work is good, but my horror is better as I seem to write more freely and graphically, which shows that this is where my genre should be. Funny enough I originally was a horror writer, I only entered the realms of fantasy within the last decade in order to get a wider audience and I was mistaken with the idea that I would be more free to do my own thing – in horror you can do that, in most other genres there does seem to be a general protocol.

I tend to read fantasy and horror but usually horror prevails as a reading choice for me, so therefore I know that I am more experienced with horror; I also have a sadistic, black sense of humour and a lust for shocking people; which I guess makes the genre perfect for me.

I know a lot of people are getting tired of vampires but, they are my favoured creature. However, I do love writing about mental illness (considering I have experience there too) and so writing about the horrors of the mind comes easy for me – particularly if it is regarding cruelty and isolation.

The novel I am attempting to write whilst I put my leprechaun comedy on hold is based around the self-harming and mental illness of a young girl who lives within an asylum and how she got there and why, the book will concentrate on the horrors of the occult, social services, abuse and isolation. There is more to the story, but I am not going to give things away, there would be no fun in that now would there?

So forgive me if the blog is neglected for a while, my husband really wants this story written and I am looking at my previous work with fresher eyes and I am very enthusiastic about this one. Who knows, perhaps it will become finished enough for me to have the confidence to post it up for YouWriteOn.com?

Ciao for now.

 

 

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