Setbacks, hurdles and the inevitable

Posted in Depression, Loneliness, Self Harm on May 26, 2008

I always suspected that when the affects of the jetlag began to wane I would suffer a…retrograde step…shall we say. So much happened to me in this city last year that few people understand why it is that I’ve come back here.

Surely I would avoid it for the rest of my life?

Surely if a city and it’s people caused you so much pain you would never again wish to return?

This is my home though.

Walking around this morning in the early morning twilight it was hard not to flash back to those twelve months of intense pain I endured last year. All of the bullshit I had to deal with on a daily basis - all of the bullshit I have to deal with on a daily basis. It’s all still there, hidden beneath the surface, hidden under dustbins and benches and doorways which once were my homes, my beds for the night. Secluded beneath the smiles and lies and conversation. I thought I’d changed. Maybe I haven’t?

It’s weird. Confusing and frustrating all in one gulp.

I self-harmed for the first time in a month and half.

The early hours of the morning.

I’m not saying it because I’m proud of it, I guess I’m saying it because I need to, because I need to be honest with what’s happening to me. Even though this blog isn’t about mental illness it’s still about me - and self-harm, for good or bad, is part of who I am. I don’t even really know why I did it. Couldn’t sleep, demons rising, as they do from time to time, nothing calling them, nothing bidding them, they’re just there, always, in the shadows and the darkness waiting to pounce.

So I feel bad today. Guilty. Angry. Annoyed with myself. It’s only one setback, but still, one is sometimes enough.

So it’s a day trying to forge ahead without falling back, glance at the scars and use them to gain strength I guess. I hear the sound of the Staff Flag’s calling. A chirpier post tomorrow, surely :)

Rebuilding my life is no longer exiting, I’ve been trying to do it for fifteen months now - but it’s a credit to my strength and determination that I keep on fighting, surely that’s commendable? I think so. Even if others don’t.

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    I'm Addy; 29, a little crazy, a little kinky, and I suffer from bipolar type 1, depression and self harm. They are illnesses I suffer from and are not a reflection of my personality. I'm tired of the stigma surrounding mental health, it's time we gave it a damn good spanking. This is my journey with depression.