It’s been 48 hours, give or take, since I last cried, something of an achievement for me these days. I’m trying very hard to use distraction techniques and to train myself to lead my mind away from the depths. It doesn’t always work but it just so happens that over the last two days it has. It’s a start. I hope I can keep it up.
There are times when the darkness descends so quickly that nothing can prepare me for it and nothing will get me out of it. I’m learning the difference between these times and the times when I can influence my mind and lead it somewhere more positive. But I dread the former. It’s all-encompassing. Put simply, it’s madness.
And despite this respite over the last 2 days, today I’ve found myself constantly on edge. Countless times I’ve had to practise my new-found skills of readjusting my thinking, searching for a distraction and it’s worked. But the edginess is there and I fear the darkness. I worry it’s inevitable. Maybe I should just get it over with?
I’m concerned about New Year. Last year I had my chance to have fun and be normal; I had plans. And I ruined it – but not just for me, for the person kind enough to invite me too. As the bells rang twelve times, this kind person was standing outside on a cold deserted street comforting me as I sobbed and shook and broke down instead of being inside in a warm pub dancing with her friends. I am grateful to her, thankful of her understanding and kindness but my actions haunt me. This new year I’ll be alone and I’m frightened. I wish I had some sleeping pills; I’d take a load in the early evening and sleep through the whole thing.