Posts Tagged ‘manic depressive’
So I returned home for the weekend. I’m always astonished at how little that place moves on. We went into town on Saturday and it’s still the same faces and same places. Since I left home four years ago, so little has changed. The only notable difference is that M&S Simply Food, Costa and Pizza Express have moved in, obviously trying to turn this little town into an identikit, affluent small town. No doubt more will follow. It’s the faces that get me though. The same people, living the same dull lives. I see people from my school and they seem so far left behind. They’ve not moved on. It’s weird.
I’m not sure the title of hometown glory is quite right. Perhaps, hometown misery would be more accurate. Of course the title really comes from the Adele song of that name. It’s a song I definitely associate with this episode, the episode that continues a pace. It doesn’t lift my mood, only stands to fuel it, but I’ve never been one to turn to happy bouncy music to cheer myself up. It doesn’t work and only makes me irritated. Before I was off work, I listened to it on repeat during my commute, turning the volume up and shutting out the world, driving too fast and not caring if I make it. I know how irresponsible that is and I’d hate for anyone to get hurt, but I just hoped it would be only me.
I have to drive those roads today and I know it will be a risk. It is always a risk. I don’t care enough about my life to be careful. My car needs servicing and the garage is next to my work, so I will drive those roads again. Since I was off work, new signs have gone up. They say 4 deaths in 3 years or 79 casualties in 3 years or 46 collisions in 3 years. I know they are designed to make you think and slow down, but every time I see them, they only serve to make me wish I could add myself to those statistics. An “accident” would be easier. It wouldn’t hurt my family as much. Of course they would be upset, but they wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that I’d killed myself. The knowledge that I was so selfish and careless that I didn’t think of them.
I made it through the weekend.
I got drunk on Saturday night in an attempt to make it easier to pretend. It was a strange evening. I was giddy and hyper, playing the games and singing along to the music, yet given a moment to my real thoughts I was full of sadness. Alone in the bathroom, I hurt myself for the first time in a while. Just superficial scratches with a sharp pin I saw lying around, but I musn’t have been feeling things as I have lasting marks. The reason I used to scratch was to give short sharp pain, quickly but leaving only feint marks that would fade. I must have done it harder than before, as the marks still haven’t faded and I can still feel them. I see them now and want to do more, but I need to be able to hide. No one has noticed the scratches yet. I hope it stays that way.
Throughout the weekend, there was a lot of talking about friends and people from school. X is in australia, Y is just finishing medicine at Cardiff, Z is in London on the west end. It’s a small town so everyone wants to know everyone. You get the idea. I think part of this came from seeing my music teacher and choir director on Last Choir Standing and from Nicole Cooke winning her gold medal. Nicole’s father was my A Level physics teacher. It was a weekend of thinking about people and how they have moved on, how they have been left behind or how they’ve left me behind.
The one that shocked me though, the one that has had the lasting effect, was something my mother said. Talking about an old school colleague of mine, my mum jumps in with “the one that has really fallen off the rails is her brother, J. He’s a manic depressive. Really bad. I bet his sister spends all of her time trying to stop him killing himself”. This shook me. I hadn’t known he was ill and I was horrified to hear the way my mother referred to him. It was like he’d become a criminal, not mentally ill. I hated her for it. I am worried about him. I’ve tried to look him up on facebook, tried to find out if what she said is true. There are signs of it on her sister’s wall in his comments (trying to reassure her he’s okay), but I can’t view his profile, so I don’t know. I hope he is okay.
Of course, the other effect of this outburst is one on me and my relationship with my parents. My family do not know I’ve been ill. They ask about work and I have to be economical with the truth. I talk about it passively, saying that there’s a lot on, but not mentioning the fact I’m not doing it. I hate that I can’t be honest with them, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t know if I could ever tell them. Knowing my mother’s prejudice makes it impossible. I know she doesn’t understand and she’s just ignorant, but I’m not sure I want to try and convince her otherwise. I wish I could talk to my dad, but I don’t want to hurt him and I think if he knew how I felt, knew my longing for death, he’d be heartbroken. I love my dad. We’re close and I hate lying to him, but I can’t handle the thought of my mother knowing. I hate the fact I can’t promise him I’d never do anything stupid. I hate how I resent my love for him, because I know it makes it harder for me to give into my thoughts and just makes this a never ending battle, in which I feel I can never win. It’s a relationship I struggle with and this secrecy makes it harder, yet easier too. I don’t know if things will ever change. I worry that they only will only find out if I’m ever hospitalised or kill myself and I’m not sure I’d be able to explain, but then I think that might just be the easiest way. I have this fear of hospitalisation, because I know that I couldn’t hide things from them if that ever happened. It builds this fear of honesty, fear of medical professionals and fear of the unknown.
I am struggling with nausea and have to get ready now. The physical effects of this are getting me down too. I haven’t been sick yet, but came closest this morning. I worry I might actually vomit though if I get in the car. I have no choice though. I’ve booked this appointment and I hate to cancel. I will find the energy some how.