This year is not going so well for me and I continue to trundle through and trundle I do. I am caught between trying to be ‘positive’ and actually feeling negative, most days I do not know which way is up. The doctors have no time for me and no one else really cares what I do, so I spend most of my time on my own.
I seem to be repeating some awful pattern. I filtered through this blog and read my May posts. I wrote 17 posts in 2015 and zero in 2016. Like August, May is a tricky month for me, full of expectation, high hopes and devastatating disappointment. I feel increasingly alone during May and August; I feel down, hopeless and desperate. Maybe because they are summer months, maybe I fool myself into believing I should be happy but my memory will prove that I am not.
In 2014 it took all the strength, energy and determination I had to write my dissertation whilst suffering the worst symptoms of i-don’t-know-what? I barely slept, ate, smiled, thought clearly, understood what was happening around me or felt part of society. I struggled. Everyone advised me to stop. Somehow I made it through and soon I was onboard a plane to the white isle.
The noise in my head did not and does not stop once I arrive on the island. The island has its own cacophony that needs adjusting to, its own brouhaha. It is sink or swim out there – perhaps that is why I found myself on a cliff edge contemplating a jump
Everyday I return to that cliff edge and look out. The water is beautiful, the billowing breeze ruffles leaves and the sun holds me in its warm embrace. One day instead of wanting to jump I close my eyes and meditate instead.
In 2015 I was full of ideas, promises, and ambition before the heartache and pain set in. I was hopeful, my situation hopeless. I constructed a new reality for myself, tried to pretend that I do not have dysphoric disorder but a year later I was back on that cliff edge looking dangerously down.
What is depression like he whispered
It’s like drowning. Except you can see everyone around you breathing
Since returning from Ireland I cannot conform to societies norms. I watch, I wonder. Is it all really that simple?
Why can I not play the games that they do, why do I not understand? why am I unable to be happy, stay in a job, or find a man?
They say I have a good outlook on life. They say one day I’ll make someone a good wife…
They say I’m pretty, generous and kind. They say it is all in my mind.
From my bed I contemplate the cliff edge. From my bed I jump. I am falling. Now the crescendo! Listen, finally it is silent.
I sink further and further to the bottom of the sea. Boys don’t throw buoys. My friends remain on the shore. My family watch through a glass bottomed boat, closer than the rest but still we’re oceans apart.
From my bed I remember my cliff edge, where a new beginning of my life surpassed the end. I go there before I awake from my dreams and remember that there is a place that exist where I am happy to be me. May has begun. I smile. I count down the days until I am back on my island. A place that exists where I am happy and free.
Is it all really that simple? I do understand; somewhere out there is my dream job, life and man. It is still all out there for me to one day find, but for now I keep the elixir of ibiza, a secret in my mind.