Learning To Walk (Again)

Whenever I manage to break whatever destructive cycle I’m engaged in, when I feel the proverbial ‘switch’ being flicked in my head, I soon realise that I have no direction.  I can be almost manic with enthusiasm, my brain will filter nothing, and I struggle to organise my jumbled thoughts.

It is much more difficult to live than to exist, and I often feel like a cold shower or a hard slap across my face is the only way to rein me in such that I might work out where to go from here.  Even now, more than three weeks since the incident that was my most recent rock bottom, I feel wired.  Sitting here, writing this post, my heart is racing and there are countless thoughts and ideas racing through my mind.  Because the thing is, Mental Illness takes everything from us.  It robs us of the ability to carry out basic tasks so that, when we start to feel a little better, we find ourselves with a clean slate, (yet) another new beginning and a need to learn from scratch.  I feel I must now learn to channel my new found energy properly, to put it to good use and not simply radiate it into the atmosphere while pacing about, like a feral, caged animal.  I’ve been doing a bit of reading for my OU course, I’ve been walking a lot, I managed to attend a local art group yesterday but was so exhausted when I got home that I slept for most of the rest of the day.  So I obviously need to learn to pace myself too, listen to my body and rest when I’m tired, rather than push on regardless.

Yes, it really is tricky, trying to negotiate the roller-coaster ride that is ‘recovery’.  It’s like being a baby again, learning to walk, discovering the world and needing someone there to pick me up when I fall.  If anyone has any advice, I’d love to hear it!


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