In the grand scheme of things it’s not too bad. I am functioning; even enjoying my weekend. I just lost – badly – at Monopoly, and it’s been a laugh. Things are (objectively) good. So why is there this nagging doubt somewhere in the back of my mind that something’s not-quite-right?
I just feel… distant. Removed, remote, unengaged. The feeling abates somewhat when I am engaged with something but when there’s nothing going on it comes back full-force, and it’s uncomfortable. I feel energetic but de-motivated. I kind of want to head to the pub and find a random person to drink and talk with until it’s closing time and I can simply crawl back into bed. Of course, the ‘good’ and ‘responsible’ part of me knows this is pretty unacceptable; this belief in doing the right thing leads to unwarranted guilt and extreme frustration. I want to rebel against my self-imposed rules.
Anxiety is a key feature of this mood that I’m not really sure I can define. I suspect it results from the internal conflict between wanting to do something out-of-the-ordinary and wanting to stay safe/play by the rules. It is unpleasant. I wish I was less conscious of ‘the norm’. On days like today I wish I hadn’t worked so hard on developing insight – if I didn’t have the awareness then I’d have an excuse to simply indulge the part of me that wants to cut loose. As it is, I know that I am potentially going to be a danger to myself if I throw all caution to the wind. But fuck me is it unpleasant to be constantly buzzing with a desire I can’t satisfy.
There’s a hint of the red-flags about this too – those red-flags that we committed to paper a couple of years ago to create a kind of checklist of things to watch out for. Things like voices. Things like Eve. Things that tell me that something’s up. Coping with them is fine; knowing they’re potentially problematic is healthy. One thing I should do is let Luke know all of this; as it happens I am terrified of letting him down so my cheat’s way out is to write this post and communicate with him this way. I am sorry that I am still so hopeless at actually vocalising these things.
Part of me is feeling a little un-supported by any professionals. My time with Early Intervention ended a couple of weeks ago at a handover meeting and I am now under the care of CMHT; I have met my new care co-ordinator once and although I could text him I am both cautious of doing so and unsure that this feeling ‘off’ warrants making contact. On the grand scale of things, on a one-to-ten rating system with ten being my worst point, I am probably around a two. Maybe a three.
And I’m sure – or trying to convince myself, who knows – that this won’t escalate. If I believed in a God I would be praying for a small blip on the radar of health. If I beg the universe with as much positive thought as I can muster, the delusions will stay away, the hallucinations will remain unobtrusive and Eve will stick to her position of mental-passenger. Please.