THESE DUVET DAYS

My spine slumps, my shoulders sag, my neck aches, my arms are perceived by me as feeling far longer, as though they are weighted down like depression’s leaden version of mittens on the end of strings that dangle down the innards of the sleeves of your winter coat. The mittens are iron ones, not woollen. The weight is?….too much to carry; and the mittens make your body temperature cooler and chillier, bracingly so…not warmer and cosier.

There is nothing cosy about depression. Though the things I often do in response to low moods are to induce cosiness and warmth. I aim to de-frost, to do behaviours that are anti-freeze/anti-skid, to cope with the profound anti-climax of my new found melancholic demeanour.

I cuddle down under the squidgy comfort of the duvet. I tell my husband, don’t go out. I’m scared to feel this feeling alone. But he has to go. We need food for the week ahead and I know I am not up to that trauma. No crowds. No people. No pressure to make choices. No thanks. I call the girls upstairs.

I tell my eldest I’m not feeling good today. She cuddles me in and strokes the skin of my arm, giving me goosebumps which help me to feel something, albeit momentarily. We have a brief talk. I tell her I wish I wasn’t a Mummy who sometimes got poorly. She tells me I have no need to say sorry- that she understands and that is isn’t my fault and if I could choose to feel better I would. I squeeze her in to my body tighter, and feel grateful that I brought her up to be empathic and considerate of others. I also feel like my decision to tell my children I have mental health problems was a good one. They grow up understanding, taking it in their stride, with no need to worry about anything that is hush hush. There is no hush hush in this house. We are open to each other. We share our moods and our desires. We share our frustrations and disappointments. We share far more joy than pain, but we don’t stick our fingers in our ears and pretend the pain isn’t there. Then my youngest comes up and giggles. She clambers under the duvet at the foot end and creates a breeze by flapping the duvet up and down. That lightens the mood. I smile as much as I am able to.

I live with chronic illness. I have PTSD, and sometimes PTSD has me. Sometimes the BPD is something that evaporates, to the extent where I wonder if I still have it; then I’ll notice an anomaly, a symptom, a suffering, a unique kind of floaty feeling which clings only to me and me alone. I look to the others in my household and recognise the floatiness is all mine and very much separate to anything they might be feeling. I feel mostly glad and grateful they don’t feel it. One person feeling it is plenty enough for one household. Though sometimes I wish I wasn’t the only one.

In my home I am the 1 in 4.

In life in general I am also the 1 in 4.

I am a census statistic. I am a mentally unwell statistic. I am a NHS identifying number. I am two diagnostic codes that spell out s.u.f.f.e.r.i.n.g. I am someone who can function well in so many ways whilst simultaneously doing private battle with suicidal ideation. Sometimes I will say “I feel suicidal ideation today”. Sometimes I will even post that on a Facebook status in the interests of suicide awareness.

I hurt badly. I seek solace under the duvet. I now sit and type in my husband’s dressing gown.

I think about death a lot, a lot of the time. Not because I necessarily want death. I want life far more than I want death. But still the thought of death lingers. A symptom of depression is a morbid fascination with death and dying. In my darkest moments I wanted to make suicide attempts just so I knew what it felt to die.

I remember my closest near death experience, post-overdose. I loved it. Honestly I did. This is not an endorsement of attempting suicide, by the way. Hell no. This is not an encouragement of other people playing Russian roulette with their life. What other people do is their business-their life-their responsibility. It is simply an honest admission of how it felt to be near death when I was suffering a great deal.

Death is on my mind particularly so today.

I know why that is. It is April. This is my peak time of the year for suicidality.

It is very much at the forefront.

I am glad I survived my attempts. But I will never forget the feeling of wanting to die and trying hard to make that a reality. Never again can you be the same after getting to that point in life. N.E.V.E.R.

So today I float around in Neverland…feeling glad I am NOT Peter Pan. The idea of a perpetual childhood is horrifying. It was all horrifying. I do want to grow up. I do want the bad dream to stop.

I have a mission to fulfil, and I can only fulfil that mission alive, not dead. So I hide and rest and float and mentally escape in whatever measly way I can-no matter how ineffective it proves to me. The point is I try and I’ll always try. I feel and I’ll always feel. I hope and I’ll always hope. I grow and I’ll always grow. I change and I’ll always change. I’ll decide what is best for me, and not let anyone determine anything for me. I can manage. I will cope. I will survive. I choose life. I choose hoping. I don’t pray. 

Prayers are not answered-effort is. 

The more effort I engage the more I will overcome. It isn’t down to anyone but me. I will self-determine positive outcomes for myself, and I will look back on these duvet days and marvel at my ability to hang on through the relentless crap. 

No matter where that crap comes from-from inside or from outside, I’ll overcome it.

I’ll take all the duvet days I need.

A mighty crop can grow from a single seed.

On positivity I’ll feed.

And I’ll never feel bad for obtaining exactly what I need.

What I need today is the cosy warmth of my anti-iron mitten depression-neutralising feather down duvet.

The selfie below is what depression looks like. Unfiltered.

SummerSHINES 

#Borderline Personality Disorder #Depression #Suicide #Self-harm #Survivor

 

Advertisements

25 thoughts on “THESE DUVET DAYS

  1. Love your attitude 😊 I am just usually excited and thinking the world is wonderful, or feeling weighed down by psychological crap. Today is the latter…but I’m hopeful that I News (the independent) may run a piece due to the national Mind press release. Fingers crossed. They’ve asked for a photo 😳 Hopefully my media dreams may start to happen this week πŸ™Œ Take care of yourself 😊😊 Hugs x

  2. How many candles? More than I’d like there to be. Haha. The clue is in the title of the post by the way ;-)

    I have multiple heads that I wear for different occasions. Sometimes it pays to be mature and do things the grown up way while other times definitely warrant a bit of silliness. I’m not chameleonic. I’m always the same person regardless of what head I wear, however I think adapting to what goes on around me is always the best way of doing things and readjusting accordingly. For example, the part of me that likes to sing aloud isn’t exactly the appropriate part to display in a job interview. Haha.

    I’ll make Caellum proud of me. One way or another I’ll make sure that he says my name to others with a cocoksure smile on his face :-)

  3. Stars can’t shine without darkness Imani, and you are the brightest star I know

  4. I would say you are the brightest potential star I know (along with another special lady we both know!) I love that stars can’t shine without darkness quote 😊 Thanks daf x

  5. This is going to sound silly, but I could never work out how to comment on your blogs – I don’t like logging in with Facebook, but if I need to in order to tell you how I feel about you then I will.
    Perhaps I should get a wordpress account for myself? Perhaps One day I could put to words things that I never say? Who knows? My life is full of ‘perhaps’.

    You know that no words can comfort you. No words can make you better when you are low. No words can make you think ‘Hey, it’s not that bad’. However YOUR words are a big help to others.
    Your words lift people. Your words give people with similar problems hope. Your words make people better people.
    Whenever you truly feel rock bottom, at least know you are not worthless. You mean a lot to a lot of people. Your husband, your kids, your friends and people you have never met and may never meet.
    Despite what you are going through, the pain, the heartache, the misery, you never ever fail to help others who need it with a comment that is always nice.
    Keep using that amazing power you have with words Imani.
    None of us can make you better, but a lot of us are here to help and listen xx

  6. I turned the way of music as opposed to writing this weekend to soothe my mental ails. I’ve had a pretty morbid few days, perhaps as a direct result of it having been my birthday on Thursday. Getting older doesn’t bother me. Wasted time does. I hope you manage to somehow coast through April nice and quick.

  7. Happy late birthday πŸ˜ŠπŸŽ‚πŸŽ‚πŸŽ‚ How many candles? My birthday is the only big annual event that doesn’t depress me actually πŸ˜‚ I understand the wasted time feeling though of aging. You seem to have an old head on your shoulders. Personally I think it’s because you’re so bright. You know you have potential and you don’t want to waste it. Intelligence comes with the pressure of high expectations. That’s my experience anyway. I bet C is proud of his dad, no matter how you’re feeling. I’m sorry you’re feeling crap. πŸ˜£πŸ˜” Sending hugs of solidarity.

  8. That’s lovely…I really appreciate that 😊Sometimes when we put a post out its hard to imagine that people read it and it impacts on them. I write in my little bubble…so to hear that you feel similar is a comfort….not that I want anyone to suffer. I’d just rather not suffer alone. I can be myself on my blog and explore things in small details. I have duvet days all the time but today wondered what it is about the duvet that comforts so much. Depression is brutal. Fortunately I am not someone who is continually depressed…my moods change with the tides. I already feel better now than I did earlier and hopefully tomorrow will be even better 😊 Take care of yourself, and thanks for reading and commenting πŸ’›

  9. I’ve followed you for a while now. But reading this reminded me why I have sought this outlet/community. I’ve never been around people other than myself who understood depression, let alone were interested /capable/willing to discuss it. I could have written this myself with very few alterations. It really struck me and I can’t express how much I relate to it.
    You said everything that needs to be said. I hope tomorrow you can crawl out of the duvet, and keep on keeping on. Thank you for making me feel like I’m not alone. You’re not either.

  10. I love that concept and metaphor. You’re amazing 😘 Are you on twitter? Your writing is very tweetable πŸ’•πŸ’•πŸ’•

  11. This too shall pass. Until then hang on, then keep swimming through the tides. Trust me, one day you will reach your shore.
    Love you always.

  12. That is massively comforting and very kind 😘 I don’t panic anymore when I go down my rabbit hole. There are definite reasons. I was just looking through my crisis box seeing how things were when I was mid breakdown. I can see how much better I am these days which reassures new I’m going in the right direction. I know you understand…I can tell that by your comments. You know exactly what to say. Thank you lovely xx πŸ’œ

  13. Oh, sweetheart, I am sending so much love your way! <3
    I have followed your blog for a while now, and I have seen how the waves come and go. The glorious, peaceful waves that gently push you through life, and the harsh, strong, overpowering waves that try to bring you under. I have watched you ride these waves until you safely reach shore, where you then wait to see what comes your way next.

    I'm not going to tell you that it gets better, or that you are strong enough to make it through. I think that on some level, you probably already know this, and you have heard it before. I know that isn't what you need right now. So please just know that I hear what you are saying, and I get it. I understand what you are feeling, because I have felt it. I know where you are at, because I have been there. It's okay to feel what you feel, and think what you think. It's real. It's you. It's okay. And you are not alone. <3 <3

CHAT TO ME (I am actually human)

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s