Better Than Other Days

Some days are far better that others. I've been told this is true of everyone, but as I'm not everyone and only know how I feel I won't even begin to delve into the "everyone" game.

Lately the days haven't been as good as I'd like. Between worldwide events and making the mistake of sharing my real -- actually picking a side -- opinion, things haven't gone at all smoothly.

Now it's well known that I'm overly sensitive. I accept that about myself and while it does have its moments I wouldn't change that part of myself. However, my sensitivity can sometimes be burdensome when coupled with Borderline Personality Disorder et al. As my view is distorted the sensitivity can enhance and multiply the distortion to the point it causes physical pain. As it did last night.

I dared voice my opinion on facebook regarding the death of that guy. I'm not going to name him, you all know whom I talk about. Now, my opinion isn't a stand alone one of a kind rarity. There are many others on facebook, twitter and tumblr who feel the same way I do. But this was of extraordinarily little comfort to me last night.

One of my friends deleted me. Another of my friends rejoiced that I shared their opinion. Yet another friend expressed their opinion -- brilliantly shared -- and so it went on. Now this should not have been an issue, everyone was expressing themselves in their own ways and I applaud and delight in that. I encourage people to be honest and open about their views at all times. So my intellectual level was giddy with excitement while my emotional self was devastated beyond belief.

I had lost a friend because I expressed my view.

Of course it wasn't as simple as that and indeed my friend was not lost altogether, she merely needed time to cool down and not see the "pro Renee's" comments on my status. I understand that. At least on one level.

On a more base level I was angry and hurt. It just didn't seem fair that I would be deleted without explanation -- I actually messaged and apologised, then found out the reason for deletion -- while dealing with hoards of people all disagreeing with me, my friends, the world, everyone. Well... maybe it wasn't quite that bad but it was close.

I am having real difficulty explaining why this hurts and just how deeply it hurt me. So forgive me if I can't convey the severity of emotions I felt.

The rest of my night was spent crying. I hate crying. It always leaves me headachy and grumpy. So I avoid crying as much as possible, even going so far as to tell myself it's "weak", "pathetic" and just plain "stupid". Indeed, this hasn't really worked because it will inevitably set off a whole other realm of sadness.

Anyway, I cried. A lot. I cried so much that I felt like I would cry for the rest of my life. Yes, yes, I know it's physically impossible to do that. I'm just saying it felt like it.

In the end I decided that I couldn't cope with the hurting anymore and I took four of my sleeping tablets. Usually I only take two, but since Seroquel is used as an anti-psychotic it is known to dull the sensations and make life, generally, bearable. I knew that it was time to medicate or else I would end up a mushy pile of tears and would never want to get out of bed again. Don't believe me?! Haha, try me.


The sleep I had last night was astounding. I slept right through until 7:30am and then fell asleep again at 9:30am and slept right through until Titan -- the cat -- left me at 1pm. Holy smokes Batman!
I haven't slept that well or that long for quite a while. I can tell you right now it helped. It hasn't eradicated all the shit bit thoughts or feelings but it has allowed me to gather the strength to fight the shit bits off.

And that's what it all boils down to; fighting off the shit bits for another day.

Now don't get all "That's great" on me or even "you're doing so well!" because, while it's lovely to hear, it's not going to last. It never does. Fending off my mental illness is a daily event. Every minute, every hour, every day, every week and so on. It never stops.

This isn't some kind of 9-5 job where the shit stops, or subsides, at knock off. Oh no my dears, this is a full time 24/7 thing. I even have to fight the shit bits off in my sleep. So don't get all "It's not that hard" or whatever because all you deserve when you say that shit is a punch in the face. And I'm not even a violent person but that comment just makes me so mad.


So I fought last night. I made the conscious decision to count my eggs and to recuperate before the next battle. Next time? Well it might not work out quite so easily.