Upon scanning my meagre archives this week I realised that proportionally speaking, my childfree related posts are only slightly more numerous than posts on other topics. This blog is becoming more of an outlet for my frustration over my mental health. So, I’ve decided to do a little change in direction here. Instead of waiting for something rant about, I’m going to post as and when I feel the urge. It won’t always be childfree related, but I hope it’ll still be of interest to you.
One of the reasons I’m having trouble ranting about childfree things is BECAUSE of my mental health problems. I have quite terrible anger problems, that work similar to OCD. I get one minor thing that annoys me, say, a conservative ‘friend’ on facebook saying something I disagree with, and for the rest of the day, I will be insanely angry. I will not be able to stop thinking about whatever it was. I can’t function. I start seeking out things to continue my anger, even though I know I shouldn’t.
I’m currently learning my triggers for this, and I’m avoiding things that set me off. I no longer go on the Daily Mail website, I have deleted any and all Tory morons on facebook, and I never watch the news. I have also stopped reading my google alerts for childfree things. It always chucks up something by a breeder whining about us selfish childfree folks, which is a guaranteed rage trigger!
This OCD effect also picks up on things I already feel, and warps them. For example, I really dislike kids, and I think pregnant women look disgusting (flashbacks of that scene in Alien). My brain will take this thoughts that I’ve always had, and turn them into something scary, such as violent urges towards kids/pregnant chicks. These are almost uncontrollable, and are triggered on sight. It is especially worse if the kids are loud and ill-behaved, or if the woman is doing that weird belly hug thing. I can’t be on public transport around kids, or I am in serious danger of snapping.
Along with all this, I am cripplingly depressed. It is hard to put depression into words. It’s not sadness, as such, just a feeling of utter hopelessness and negativity. I can’t function in social situations, because I expect to be bullied (due to a lot of previous experience). I am afraid of making a fool of myself. I am now utterly socially isolated. This has been the case for quite some time, but I admit, it is especially worse, of late. This is because I was raped. I have already posted about my previous sexual assault. This time it was ‘real’ rape, so to speak. I went to the local town centre to meet some friends, and, long story short, slightly drunk girls in high heals cannot get off the beach if someone is holding them back.
I have accepted that my mental illnesses are disabling, and I’ve applied for disability benefits, until I can get a job without having a break down. I cannot leave the house without my mother or my boyfriend, and even then, I still get panicky or angry around other people, like in restaurants. I have yet to receive the CBT I was promised, and every pill I have tried so far hasn’t worked. The mental illness has triggered my IBS and I now suffer violent bouts of diarrhea, where I have about 30 seconds to get to the toilet, or I’m fucked. This, in turn, feeds my fear of going out. Vicious cycle, much?
I think it will be therapeutic on some level for me to blog about my insanity. I also hope it’ll be helpful for anyone who reads this who happens to have mental health problems themselves. So yes, dear readers, this blog is taking a change in direction for now, at least.
I would like to finish on a happy note today. I have been conferring with my local tattoo god, Jay, of the famous Black Pearl of Bexhill. I’m after getting something unique, and meaningful, and I settled on a picture of Gene Kelly I found a while back. Jay reckons it is good enough to be in a magazine, when it’s complete. He likes the idea so much, he’s doing me a discount. I’m going to start work on it soon, perhaps even as soon as this Saturday. The tattoo will take a long while to complete, Four hours at least for outline alone. I’m considering this my healing piece. From the moment I begin having it done, I will be making an effort to change my life for the better, from the small triumph of having a sensible sleeping schedule, to the larger one of leaving the house alone, and maybe even volunteering somewhere. So, I share with you, the future of my back. He will be in black and white, and the umbrellas in glorious Technicolor.