Silver lining

Writing honestly is for me a good way to face up to things that are going on. Although I know that for people reading this - especially those who know me - the things that I write can be alarming and concerning.

Given that I write about the negative that is going on, it feels only right that I write a bit about the positive as well. I don't want anyone to get the wrong idea and to think that my life at the moment is an endless string of self-abuse. If there is a disproportionate focus on the difficult times possibly that is simply a reflection of the fact that those are the times when writing becomes most helpful to me. I feel less like I need to write when life is ticking along in a more upbeat way!

So here are some positive thoughts for a Friday morning/lunchtime. First, since Sunday's episode and the feelings of fear that followed on Monday I have been feeling fine. I have been thinking about what happened and talking to friends about it. But I haven't been in a depressive state of mind. I've been frustrated and wanting for things to improve, but I haven't felt down or miserable. I have got on with work, I have got on with holiday (much needed couple of days off!!) and I have been seeing friends. Life has been 'normal' (a word that doesn't really do justice to anything but is a useful word for these purposes!)

Second, I have been thinking about what happened on Sunday and I am actually seeing it in a positive light. The reason it scared me so much was because it was new. It was not an experience that I have had before. And it seemed to come a bit out of the blue. But what underpinned it was a sense of frustration with the depression and a drive to want to get better. Earlier in the year I wanted to be gone. I wanted to hurt myself by poisoning myself so that I would switch off. I was giving up. What happened on Sunday was definitely not giving up! I didn't want to hurt myself, I wanted to hurt the depression. Now, while what I did may have been as effective as trepanning to deal with a headache, the motivation was actually quite positive: I want to be better.

Third positive thought is this: I know that it was a daft thing to do! I know that beating myself up was a destructive and counter-productive thing to do. But I can see that. It took me a good few weeks after my overdose in June to actually be able to realise it had not been a good thing and to get to a point where I was able to thank my friend for stopping me from killing myself. Almost immediately on Sunday I realised that what had happened was daft.

Which leaves me with this thought for the weekend: Sunday, for me, was another marker. It's another step along the route to getting better. This one had a much better underlying motivation than the overdose ever did. And fundamentally it means that I am not giving up. I can look on it in a positive light and see the good things that may come out of it. And I can also see it for what it was and I have absolutely no wish to do that again!

The journey that I am on at the moment is unpredictable. As is life generally! But I do finally feel that I am going in the right direction. Even if I still have further to go.