A Serious Case of the Blah's

I was going to start this post by apologising for not writing for so long. Then I realised I don't need to apologise because blogging is about posting when you have time, when you have inspiration and when you're not battling with yourself just to take the next breath.

And battling is all I've been doing for the last two weeks or more.

I suppose you'd have liked to read posts from me while I was so "out of it" and so "low" but I highly doubt it would have sounded much different to this post. I'm still battling myself but at least I have some energy to sit and write today.

That's the thing, you see, with me. My lows and "out of it" moments look like lethargy and laziness to outsiders. Of course, like my illnesses you don't see what is actually happening.
Internally there's a raging torrent intermixed with sadness, helplessness and a powerful gust of pathetic. It's words and thoughts in no particular order taking everything out of context and throwing them forward, screaming the edited versions so loudly all I can do is listen.

I can't run away from this.
I can't read or watch tv to ignore them, as if they were unruly children making lots of noise in the background.
I have no peace. No escape.

It's like being in my own jail cell. I don't have the bars or the beefed up drug infected cellmate. I have myself, three illnesses and no way out.

Being trapped, or more precisely cornered, by my own thoughts has made even the simplest of tasks (showering, dressing, making lunch etc) nearly impossible. The hot water keeps running out before I've even started washing my hair. (And yes enviro-folks I do realise it's a huge waste of water and no, I'm not happy about it either, so when you figure out how to keep me from having "blackouts" in the shower I'll be glad to resume my short showers.)

Technically the "blackouts" are known as dissociative episodes. It's common with some mental illnesses during particularly awful moods, times and periods.
However, knowing this doesn't fix anything for me. If anything it makes things worse because I'm not even an individual when it comes to my illnesses.

Not that being an individual or being unique or even being awesome comes with an illness. It doesn't. I'm still no different to millions of others with the same illnesses, the same struggles and the same awful moments. I'm just another person with problems.