You're Giving Me Capt. Archer? Really?

Sometimes when thinking about certain situations, people envisage a number of different scenarios - generally along the lines of the best, or at least most preferable, one; the good, or at least acceptable, one; and the one which would be bearable if absolutely necessary. In this instance:

• To never have existed;
• To die;
• To have some use in the world and enough health/strength to see it through.

The problem is that one so often falls short of their own imaginings, even those they feel are conservative.

It's like needing someone to command the Enterprise: you're thinking Patrick Stewart, Bill Shatner, or maybe, at a push, Alan Ruck, but then you get stuck with Scott Bakula.

Of course, the first case is clearly impossible, but neither of the others are intractable problems, were I not so weak (even ignoring the physical weaknesses the solutions to which are largely in the hands of others at the moment). How often is it said that getting something done, particularly curing oneself of a mental illness, is simply dependent on really wanting it and deciding to make it happen? Motivation is surely a key, but I don't think it is purely will, I think it is the strength of character driving the will. I don't mean strength in the sense of depth of yearning, but more fundamentally, the ability to put such yearning into action. It is an ability, like painting or composing, which is not always available to whoever wants it. Yes some abilities can be taught, to a point, but can they all, to all people? Can a deaf man hear, just because he really wants to?

I am not just weak, I am weak minded. I mean, both ends of the life spectrum are on my list: oblivion or useful existence, and presumably I could make either happen - I'd love to in fact - but my mental feebleness and pervading cowardice leave me stewing.

I wonder occasionally, if God's idea of 7 days is 14 billion years, then surely the 28 day warranty on this life he gave me must still be intact. D'you think he does refunds?

Ok, New Plan...

I don't want to go back on anti-depressants again.

The problem is that it's looking increasingly likely that I will soon be in a position where I essentially have no choice. (I know, we always have a choice, but external pressure is a bigger thing than you'd think, as is the shadow of suicide, hence the "essentially" modifier.) I want to stave this off for as long as I can. Luckily, my doctor is almost impossible to get an appointment with, so that helps.

If I want to get anything done I'm going to need to reimpose some semblance of structure into life. I am not functioning at anything even approaching optimal, in fact there seems to be far less than 50% operational efficiency, and I know that lack of structure and routine clouds my mind. Therefore, reinstating this would seem to be a logical thing to prioritise. If my hypothesis is correct, it should at least mitigate, to some extent, the debilitation I currently seem to be experiencing. So, not so much new plan as reinvented old one.

A theoretically public forum may be expected to produce a sense of obligation to maintain standards set, and thus I have chosen this blog as one of the starting points for this regime shift. I will attempt, in particular, to begin using a Word of the Week type premise again, in order to have something in my new routine which is not work related but may be subjected to analysis and is a compatible activity with the need for timetabling.

Any other suggestions, besides "pull yourself together" (or equivalent), would be gratefully received and taken into consideration.

Losing the game:

Sometimes I think I'm just a pawn,

In that game you play with other people's lives.

You set up challenges throughout the day -

Knowing full well they can't be done.

Do you laugh, I wonder, as you watch us flounder?

Is it some sadistic pleasure you draw from our efforts,

Or is it just cold academia that drives your study?

Even as the night draws in and the game is at a lull,

Some other force, (or is it you?)

Denies me the rest I’m sure I'm due

And so, exhausted, it all begins again.

This viscous cycle spiralling down.

Until,

I fear,

The darkness will out.

I’m having a bad few weeks. My grades are getting worse instead of better; I feel less and less inclined to participate in daily domestic duties – from getting out of bed onwards (inclusive of all those little things which most people do instinctively everyday and which I used to be quite particular about); my laptop is increasing the speed of its descent into electronic senility and the result of my psychiatric evaluation is that in view of the severity, range and longevity of my many issues, the best course of action seems to be longer-term, more intensive therapy rather than guided self-help. There is, of course a waiting list for this type of therapy (aimed in part at helping those sorts of people who have self-harmed or felt suicidal tendencies…), so I have no idea when that will start, but I hope that it starts soon and is effective, because to be honest I’m starting to get a wee bit desperate.

Apart from anything else, I’m dying for one good night’s sleep, although if I woke up in the morning to find I wasn’t still utterly exhausted, I’d probably have a heart attack.

It’s had a big effect on my work: A lot of the time I’m like some sort of confused, sleep-deprived, geriatric zombie suffering from senile decay and when I’m not, I’m being overly hyper to try and compensate – both scenarios leading to general bad health and I’m left wondering how the group I’m working with can possibly make sense of anything I’m saying. On the subject of which – apologies if this is in appalling English, I will probably retract this post at some point in the future.

(Sorry for the shitty quality of the poem – it’s a first draft which I dashed off about 6 minutes ago purely to head this post… may or may not polish it off at a later date)

New Year Blues

I don't really have the time to write this - to much Uni work still to do. However, I've just had a panic attack and am trying to stave off the next one.

I'm aware that people in the past have permanently stopped reading my blog because of posts like this, and I'm quite happy for you to stop doing so too, although my only query would be 'why are you here in the first place?' This site was originally set up, as a part of my therapy, as a place where I could let rip in a way that I never could in person or in a diary. So, posts like this basically fulfil that remit, and if you don't like it, you are quite welcome to leave or silently curse me, but please don't post comments about how I should pull myself together/stop whining/get on with it etc. because doing this in this limited arena is aimed at helping me do just that in the real world.

Frankly, I don't care if no one reads my blog, for me it's all about the potential for anonymity, and although I am quite often really personal, this feels somewhat more detached. On here I can focus on my grammar and spelling, and the blog layout. It is precisely that focus - which I cannot achieve in conversation, that helps me to lessen the effects of a panic attack.

Of course, if you are reading this, then welcome and thank you very much. I am not completely anti-readers - on the internet that would be pretty stupid - it's only ignorant people that I don't like, but then I'm sure you're not. I'm also not anti-comments, and if you have some advice, some (constructive) criticism of myself or my blog, or just generally want to say hi, then I'd love to hear from you.

I had meant to do a bumper edition of ... of the Week this week, to make up for the silence over Christmas, but this will have to wait, as I really should be getting on with my coursework. I am very stressed, and this has probably contributed to the panic attack, not helped at all by finding out that I failed the last piece of (easier) coursework for this unit. I'm in a bit of a low state in general right now, and next week I think I might talk to my tutor about leaving/taking some time off, but I have two deadlines before that and so I'd better get on.

If you've made it this far, thank you and congratulations. Your prize is the answers to my Christmas Tree quiz, and my Word of the Week: Trepidation.

End of the Line.

I have tried being a good friend and relative, I've tried being sociable, I've tried to work hard enough to earn my place at this University and in people's company, but I have failed, and now have nothing else to give.

I don't want to play this game any more, or keep trying to stay afloat in the rapids of my life. The failures simply return again and again in rushing tides, causing more trouble or politely hidden exasperation like rocks to smash my head against: and I do exactly the same thing again later in the hope of rectifying earlier problems, though I know it won't. It becomes a compulsive vicious circle, a whirlpool which continues to make things progressively worse, but which I can't get out of.

There are plenty platitudes and 'reassurances': "But we love you" and "Well I'm still your friend" etc. made all the worse by the add-ons at the end where people explain that this is actually momentous because "We don't hang around with just anyone", or "I'm the sort of person that would definitely tell you to get lost if I didn't want you around". What nobody seems to realise that it is a natual human phenomenon for a naturally decent person to be charitable towards someone who wouldn't have a hope in hell of finding anyone who actually liked them. The chance to be magnanimous is something that a person's subconscious jumps at, giving them a feeling of righteousness and nobility, and let's face it, most people like to feel good about themselves don't they? I get that people don't realise that they're doing this, but if they sat down and really thought about it, it would become clear that a friendship with someone like me (whose main character traits are irresponsibility, failure and untrustworthiness), is totally inexplicable and a substantial waste of time

My least favourite platitude, however, has to be: "Just do your best". This is, in my opinion, one the most abhorrent phrases ever. Most people when it comes to exams etc. tend to try their best, but the thing is that their best at that particular time may not actually be their personal best, and may in fact be rubbish. I've spent my whole life being encouraged to do my best; not helped of course by the apparent expectation that my best will be pretty good, and have been working up to University, which now appears to have bested me.

I have been trying my best, and my best has just run out of steam, I have no more best to give, no more effort or energy to be expended on anything. As far as I can see, my life finished the day that I got my A-level results, that's what my life had been working up to, and that's where it stopped. That was hard enough towards the end, and now, I'm done, empty, finished. Other people's lives extended beyond work, and they developed other skills to help them deal with the aftermath of school, but I didn't. This leads me to conclude that I didn't need any other skills, as I wasn't designed to be going any further.

I shouldn't be here.

I will be making a decision about my future in the next couple of days, any job/CV writing ideas would be gratefully received.

Cut loose folks

To any of you who have stumbled across this site in a last ditch attempt to find something on the web to help you sleep; Apologies to you for having to put up with my banal conversation for all these years.

I understand now that the sort of stuff I talk about generally holds very little interest for anyone else, and so I probably bore you. One guy, who I've known for about 16 years, turned to me in the pub recently and said, "You know Hannah, you're more interesting than I thought (paraphrasing, but you get the idea)." So it turns out I do occasionally say something worth hearing, but if it's only once every 16 years, I'd give up on this relationship sharpish if I were you. This particularly applies to my family who may feel they have no choice; I'm telling you now, you do. Cut all ties and be done with it.