Totally Mental II: One Weak, In Pain. Final Day, Sunday

11.30
A quick entry now, as we are having to get ready to drive to my daughter Hannah’s flat in Reading. And put a few hooks up on the door. And pack (I generally leave that to Belinda who has a more organised mind).

I’m suffering from an adrenaline hangover this morning. Yesterday it coursed freely through my bloodstream, today it stays at home, and my system craves it. I’m not very able, but I’ll have to screw myself up and get going. I’ll let Belinda direct me.

I wish I was in church. I always felt a curious stillness and capability in church. Until I started becoming really ill, then I had to withdraw, as people where I went weren’t too understanding. One thought I was possessed by demons.

I have friends who are not coping too well, and feel useless to help. It’s depressing; frustration at not being able to help is very negative.

Yesterday was a good effort. I’m chuffed for myself.

Now I have to run. More introspection for your delight later.

*************************
It seems like I wasn’t destined to write a lot today.
20.45

I’m finishing this week drained. It has been a hell of a week, even for someone on the normal spectrum of mental capability.
I’m not sure I really know what to say right now. I’m feeling more hopeful, but more warily unhopeful than I have for many a long day; feeling more able, and more unable to access that ability than before.
Success and health seems only a paper-thin wall away, but that wall is out of my reach. I need to build myself an arm to reach the wall and punch through it. I only know how to do that by achieving what I am able to achieve, and have so far failed to reach.
I’m neutral and quiet, I have no panic or anxiety right now. But unsure of what the future can possibly hold for someone like me; I have many of the appearances and attributes that look like tools to build, but do not seem to have the hands to grasp them. I am frustrated by this, because I know others who have less, have done more.

I’m ambivalent as to the future. Can I really go on and improve my mind to make me well? The fact that each of us with a mental illness have an unique difference of illness; thus, we have no common remedy. This is not something that has a similar pill to make better in different cases. The is no universal panacea.

So tonight I am undecided.
I hope, but have no hope of that hope being fulfilled.
I try, but have no idea about the result of that trying.
I look, with no understanding of what I see.

But I will hope, try, and look.

And thank you, reader, for increasing my chances of success.

Fin

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