I’ve been waking up recently feeling really betrayed by S Club 7. They made me believe that if I put on some ill-fitting combat pants and a shitty vest top I would be able to not stop, never give up, hold my head high and reach the top. They even made me believe that when the world seemed to get too tough, I’d be able to bring it all back to me. And do you know what? It was a load of tosh.
Actually, in fairness to them, if people try to put me down I can walk on by and not turn around but only with a face that’s doing a very ugly cry and is dripping in tears.
Let me explain. I am feeling really vulnerable when it comes to my mental health and am experiencing a whole heap of emotions that I’m finding almost impossible to contextualise effectively. If you want some sort of indication as to the state that I am in, then here’s a little something for you.
I’m currently writing this from my bed at quarter to two in the afternoon and I feel shit for it.
Having said that, I think it’s good to be open about feeling down because I want to play my part in alleviating the stigma that surrounds the topic of mental health.
So let’s do just that.
I haven’t been writing much recently because I don’t know how to when my head feels as swamped as it does currently. As a sufferer of OCD and anxiety I am used to having off days but at the minute I just feel a whole new level of low. I would describe it as almost dream like. Nothing feels quite real. I am extremely agitated and on top of that I am tanked up on so much medication that I’m experiencing an overwhelming sense of failure.
My sister put the Macarena on and jokingly started to gyrate her way over to me. I had to turn round to her and say “Mate, can you not do that because I feel really anxious.” and I felt like such a kill joy. I don’t even have the energy to do the fucking Macarena.
Witnessing everything that is going on in the world currently should be more than enough to make me snap out of it but I feel guilty because it just isn’t. Nothing seems to be at the minute. In turn, I am feeling so frustrated that I am struggling to grasp a sense of perspective.
It can be quite a scary feeling when you feel as though you have no purpose but even I am trying to grasp onto the hope that it will pass. The logical side of me knows that it will.
It feels really strange reading that back. Almost as if it isn’t me. I can’t sit here and make it sound poetic because it isn’t. Plus I’m not that kind of writer. I struggle to make things sound easier to hear when they are most definitely not easy to feel.
I suppose If I wanted achieve anything by just getting my thoughts out there, It would be that someone having a tough time reads it and knows that they aren’t on their own. I’m right there with you.
If you’re feeling something similar. Make a doctor’s appointment man. Even if you feel as though it isn’t going to help. You might be surprised.
Thanks for reading and I hope I haven’t drained all of the joy out of you with this post. You never know, maybe S Club 7 were right.
(I literally have no idea what I am saying so I am going to go and be a sad blob now.)