TW: contains mild references to suicidal ideation.
I think we’ve established that everyday is an uphill struggle for me and, to use (another) trite expression, I often take one step forward and two back. From what I can gather, this is the way of things when it comes to MH. In fact, just this morning, I put a new fleece on to walk round to my Cousin’s house and my Brother (doing what Brothers do best) joked that I looked like I was going to climb a mountain. To my surprise, my Mum responded with ‘…she climbs a mountain every day…’
This week in particular, I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about my future and, indeed, whether I even want a future. People adopt a positive tone when they speak to me, talk about things to come. I know they’re trying to keep me motivated, and fighting hard. I’m on the waiting list to see an Occupational Therapist (OT) in the hope that we might work out what my goals are, and how best to attain them. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate the sentiment and, from what I’ve seen and heard, I’m luckier than some when it comes to professional support. And I do have vague ideas about things I’d like to do in the future.
But there are things about the future that I don’t want. I don’t want to be in a World in which my loved ones are not; I panic daily about what will happen to me should I ever suffer the loss of someone close to me. I simply couldn’t breathe without the handful of people on whom I rely for support.
My illness has, thus far, and I anticipate will in the future, hinder me somewhat when it comes to relationships. I’m pretty certain I’ll never have an intimate relationship with someone who will accept me unconditionally, which means I am unlikely to ever be a Mother. I’d love to be a Mum; as much as I adore the children I’m around currently, I don’t want to be ‘Auntie Louise’ for the rest of my life. I don’t want to be the Aunt that everyone feels obliged to visit on Christmas morning.
So, yes, there are some things I want for myself. I have some unfinished business with the Open University and (this is for you, Beth) this fight is #notfornothing, it just can’t be. I have ‘met’ some awesome people online, and I spoke to my Mum recently about the potential for an actual meeting, with any of them, but one or two in particular. These people (along with one or two family members) keep me going in my darkest moments.
But can you see the dilemma? Some pretty strong arguments pull me in two different directions. I feel like a Rag Doll, whose arms are being tugged by two kids trying to get to two different places.