Month: July 2012

Things fall apart

I didn’t make the title of this post up myself. I borrowed it from a clever man who borrowed it from another clever man – it just seemed right for today.

Yesterday didn’t go according to plan. That is what you call an understatement by the way. The plan for today had to change owing to yesterday not going to plan, but that’s okay.

The plan for today ended up being the plan that WeeGee is best of all at following – the plan you have to stick to in order to put it all back together again. Again. I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve had to put it all back together again (again), but that’s also okay.

Today I took care of myself. I’m forever telling other people to ‘take care’ and I know I need to learn to take a little bit of my own advice. It was a quiet, contemplative day in WeeGee land. I fed myself and relaxed and I got my apologies in. When I was ready I did the routine de-brief with Mr Wise.

Mr Wise gets it. He always gets it even when I can’t explain it very well at all. I still don’t really understand why I called the crisis team and not him last night. Self sabotage I suppose. Next time things fall apart I have to remember to call Mr Wise because only he can look into my head and say ‘yeah, I see it, but it doesn’t matter because it’s going to be okay’

I’m about to have a birthday. It’s the second birthday I’ve had since the worst thing ever happened, which also means that it’s almost the two year anniversary of the worst thing ever. Anniversaries matter to me. An elephant never forgets.

Anyway – I’m rambling because I’m tired and a little bit mental (but not in a scary way). All I really wanted to say is that I have come to the conclusion that every once in a while things will probably fall apart for me. And that’s okay.

I will probably never get to a point in my life where I say – ‘that’s it; I’m never going to fall apart again’, but what I can do is learn lessons when I do fall apart so that eventually I will find a soft enough place to fall.

Lots of love from WeeGee xx

 

 

 

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You know you’re having a bad day when….

…. You get two calls to the crisis team in before supper*

I’m going to have to issue one of those ‘trigger warnings’ now. I don’t want to upset anybody or put them in a bad place so please bow out now if you are vulnerable about – self harm, suicide attempts, weird food stuff or mental madness in general.

Is there anybody left? Are you sure? This is quite long and not very cheery until the very end….

So, yeah, self harm, suicide attempts, weird food stuff and a bit of mental madness to boot. I have some larks don’t I?

For three or four days my brain was on best behaviour. I managed to trick it into playing a game of ‘let’s just try really, really hard for a while and see what happens’ and it worked until my brain decided it wasn’t going along with that anymore. As brain quite rightly pointed out, what’s the point of trying really, really hard if you end up where you always do anyway (which, for the record, is curled up in a teeny tiny ball trying desperately not to make plans to end your life sometime soon)?

I had a rotten dream last night. I could have done without it because when I woke up and remembered it (at just gone three am this morning) it stirred up some stuff that most definitely didn’t need stirring. I guess everyone has stuff that doesn’t need stirring – I’ve got a lot of it and if I have learned only one thing about stirring stuff that doesn’t need stirring it’s that if you absolutely have to stir it you should NEVER EVER do it between the hours of 10pm and 7am because of the golden rule of safe stirring: stirring is not be done when it is quiet and everyone else is asleep.

Thankfully (maybe) not everyone was asleep because there was my local friendly crisis team – on call 24/7 for my every mental madness emergency. So I phoned them up and told them I’d broken the golden rule of safe stirring and was now going a bit mental.

We tried to work out ‘what had gotten into me’ but for some reason (I don’t know which reason) I didn’t tell them the whole truth. I told them I wasn’t hungry and there was nothing obviously dangerous in the flat. Two breaths, two pointless lies. Why? Just why?

The truth was that I wasn’t hungry but starving hungry having eaten nothing but a bag of Doritos all day. Actually, here’s another rule for you. If you absolutely have to be mental, avoid being starving and mental at the same time AT ALL COSTS. It’s rubbish. Truly rubbish.

Why hadn’t I eaten anything all day? I decided not to. That was it. I just decided and once I’m decided on something like that I’m totally decided. The theory goes is that I use deciding not to eat in order to punish myself somehow. I don’t know if that’s it but it’s as good a theory as any, so I guess I have to go with it. Why didn’t I tell the nice crisis support people that I hadn’t eaten? Because I didn’t want to. I wanted to keep it all to myself.

Why was there something dangerous in the flat? Well there wasn’t – not in the ‘usual’ sense which is really just to say that I hadn’t deliberately brought anything into the flat in order to deliberately hurt myself. But a girl’s got to shave her legs, right? So there were ‘the emergency disposable razors’, which were not intended to be dangerous but which could be with a little determination) And I didn’t tell the crisis team chaps about them because this was an emergency and I had all the determination I needed. I was mental and angry and frightened and, in all honesty, I didn’t want anyone to talk me down. I dismantled the disposable razors with relative ease and bob’s your uncle, fanny’s your aunt…. I hurt myself. It hurt and made me feel small and foolish and even more frightened. It was supposed to make it better – it was supposed to get rid of whatever it was that had gotten in to me.

A period of pacing commenced. I felt like I was waiting for something. I don’t know what – maybe it was the thing I thought was going to happen the other day? I decided to curl up and do my waiting on the couch. It started to get light and I wondered if that was what I was waiting for – morning, because everything is better in the morning? Except it isn’t – it’s exactly the same. Every single lousy morning is exactly the same (that was broken brain’s take on it by the way).

I tried the crisis team again because I didn’t think I was going to make it. They suggested diazepam (another emergency ration, but GP approved unlike the disposable razors) and if I couldn’t do that (I’m scared of diazepam because it’s habit forming) it was ‘maybe time to think about coming in’.

Okay. So I thought about ‘coming in’ and dismissed that because I felt more mental than I’d ever felt before and decided that if I went in, I’d probably never get out again. I didn’t want that to happen. So I carried on waiting. Waiting and thinking. It all got a bit boo hoo and grizzly.

And then there was an epiphany moment in WeeGee’s broken brain. What I was waiting for was…. the last day WeeGee would ever spend on Earth. Not only that – I’d made it. No more waiting! Today was the day.

Once I had decided that this was the last day that WeeGee would spend on the planet things got a bit easier. There are things you need to organise if you’re about to bow out like making sure ‘the box’ is in order. ‘The box’ lives on top of my wardrobe and has a copy of my will, bank account details, information that my parents need about probate, insurance document, strict instructions about dealing with The Cat, a couple of photos and some letters. Ever since I got hit by a bus** I’ve been paranoid about making things as easy as possible for my loved ones  if I check out early – whether at my own hand or by an act of god. ‘The box’ was in order.

I had a shower and got ready. It took a while to decide what I was going to wear but in the end I settled on the skirt I wanted to be buried in (don’t ask – it’s stupid). I fed the little man and then fed him again. I think that was guilt. And then I headed to the outside world to purchase a tin of Heinz tomato soup and 32 painkillers. It’s a bit dangerous that I know that there is a shop within walking distance that sells painkillers 32 at a time. I see that now but I don’t know how to ‘unknow’ it. That is a problem for another day.

I got back – opened the curtains (because no-one wants to spend their last moments on planet Earth in the dark) and heated up the soup. Heinz tomato soup isn’t much of a last supper is it? All I can say is that if you have decided that this is the last day you will spend on planet earth YOU ARE CLEARLY NOT OF YOUR RIGHT MIND and are almost certainly in no fit state to decide what your last meal should be.

I washed up and emptied the bins and then fed Gryff again. A lot of food this time in case I wasn’t found for days. And then I sat staring at a box of 32 painkillers for a very long time. First of all I put them very far away from me, and gradually I brought them closer until they were right in front of my face. And I looked at them for another very long time.

By this time Gryff was sitting in ‘croissant cat’ position looking at me looking at the painkillers. And I came all over all soppy. I thought about the worst life night of my life ever (which was also the worst night of Gryff’s life) and how when I finally got to bed that night be had jumped up, burrowed under the covers and curled up next to my tummy and stayed there all night to stay safe and to keep me safe. And I wondered who he would curl up with to be safe when he realised that I, the only person he ever trusted, wasn’t coming back. And then I thought about Mr Friendly, and Mr Wise, Mrs Worry and Mr Hilarious who would all, in their own ways, blame themselves even though it was nothing to do with them. And I thought about my mum who would never, ever be able to understand no matter hard she tried.

And then I thought FOR FUCK’S SAKE GAIL WEEGEE. Are you really going to top yourself BECAUSE YOU HAD A BAD DREAM? After everything that happened and everything you bounced back from? Seriously! What is the matter with you……. PULL YOURSELF TOGETHER.

‘Pull yourself together’ is not something you should ever say to someone with mental health problems. But, if you yourself are mental you are allowed to say it to yourself. Not because it will make it all better but because it will stop it all getting worse. Sometimes that is all you can hope for – things not getting worse.

Where am I now? I’m mostly back. I’m fed and watered and safe. I’m playing ‘let’s just try really, really hard for a while and see what happens’ once more. It’s the only game I’ve ever been any good at.

Love from WeeGee  xx

PS – I re-read this one and realised that it’s a bit wonky and meandering and mental. Sorry. But you know me 🙂

*Dinner if you aren’t pretentious like me. Or tea if you are from The North

**Which is a whole ‘nother story!

I don’t geddit

I had one of those long, meandering and slightly strange conversations that you can only really have with Mr Hilarious with Mr Hilarious last night. We started with sweaty backsides* and moved through ping-pong**, fish and chip shops***, Routemaster buses and Monk**** before arriving at the conclusion that WeeGee is probably an alien*****

So there’s this episode of Monk – Mr Monk and the UFO. It’s funny. You should watch it. There are aliens (kinda) and undertones that Mr Monk might actually be an alien because he is such an oddity of a human being. As you know, I’m a bit of an oddity of a human being too, which led Mr Hilarious to wonder if I might actually be an alien disguised as a human….. It made sense at the time, but I’m a little less convinced now.

Anyway – there are lots of things that I just don’t understand about being a human person. Feelings for example, or why people carry on being alive when there isn’t much of a point to it, or why they eat mushrooms . I seem to spend a lot of my time trying to work out how to understand things that I don’t understand and I’m telling you this because I am about to accept an award and tell you seven things that I don’t understand. I agree that I’ve gone about it in a rather convoluted way but hey ho, there you go. We got there in the end.

The award is the ‘Sisterhood of the world of bloggers’ Sounds a bit grand doesn’t it?

Here are the rules:

  1. Thank the giver.
  2. Post seven things about yourself.
  3. Pass the award on to seven other bloggers and let them know they’ve been nominated.
  4. Include the logo of the award in a post or on your blog

So without further ado here is my acceptance…..

The very incredibly wonderful Sailor nominated me for this award. Do read her acceptance post – it’s very incredibly wonderful and hilarious and it has left me with a rather irritating ear worm. Thanking you muchly lovely Sailor (not for the earworm part though). I like that you nominated me for this one in particular because sometimes when I read your posts I wonder how you managed to get into my head and say everything that is in there. You’re a bit like a blogging sister to me – a super cool big sister with tattoos and everything. Ahhh. (Touching moment over. Sorry about that.)

Oh. I nearly forgot the logo. Ta da:

And here, for your reading enjoyment, are seven things that WeeGee doesn’t understand.

1. I don’t understand cricket. It’s not so much the rules that bother me although I don’t really understand them either. NO, the thing that I don’t get about cricket is the fact that you can play this game for days and days and days at a time and then still end up calling it a draw. How is that a game? I suggest that it is an exercise in futility and folly and vote we abolish it in favour of something more interesting (but not kicky ball. I understand kicky ball and I still think it’s stupid)

2. I don’t understand morning people. Why. Would. You. Get. Up. Earlier. Than. You. Have. To. Well – why??

3. I don’t understand time zones. Actually I’ll change that slightly. I don’t understand time in general. Time is something that you can’t spend too long thinking about unless you want your brain to explode which is why watching Dr Who is such a dangerous pastime in WeeGee land. I know that humans invented ‘time’, but I just don’t think we have the mental capacity to actually understand it, unless you are Brian Cox and even he probably doesn’t understand time, not really.

You’ll notice I didn’t really explain why I don’t understand time. That’s because I don’t want my brain to explode.  Especially not today when it’s being so well behaved.

4. I don’t understand feelings. Feelings are even more complicated than time. And that’s all I’m willing to say about that one.

5. I don’t understand Gryff. Gryff is my cat. He’s an odd little creature who is completely inexplicable most of the time. Why will he drink water from any vessel that isn’t a water dish? Why is he afraid of carrier bags? Why won’t he go into the kitchen when the mat isn’t there? Why does he love playing with dried spaghetti? How does he know I’ve got spaghetti even if I get it out of the packet silently? Why does he trust me and no-one else? These are just some of the mysteries of Gryff. I discover new ones almost every day.

6. I don’t understand my brain. Obvoiusly.

7. Finally, I don’t understand the weather at the moment. What’s going on? It’s all apocalyptic again. Seriously – it’s summer….. I think we might have broken the weather you know.

Okay so now I have to nominate some people. I’m assuming from the title of the award that it has to be female lady people… The people I’ve picked are people who, after reading their blogs, I have concluded are of the female persuasion. There’s an outside chance I’ve jumped to conclusions and got it horribly wrong. If I nominated you and you are in fact a male boy person instead of a female lady person: I am mortified. I hope no offence was caused!

Here are the brilliant blogs I would like to nominate (in no order whatsoever, well actually they are in an order, it’s a random one):

1. The Mirth of Despair

2. Make-up and Mirtazapine

3. Thoughlifebeaday

4. Nothinginmynoggin

5. AdverseUniverse

6. Minutiae

7. Crazy in the coconut

Lots of love from WeeGee xx

*Which wasn’t quite as bad as it sounds because we were talking about the cycle road race

**Which apparently you have to call table tennis not ping-pong

***We couldn’t think of one in Kingston which is remarkable really

****I can always turn a conversation to Monk

*****Don’t worry – I’m just getting the asterisks in early today

Tagged by a moose

I’ve been tagged by Garry, the depressed moose…..

Here are my answers.

What is your proudest moment from your blogging career?

Do you know what? I’m just proud of my blog full-stop.

I started writing it when I was on the way back up after a pretty major crash and I’m still amazed that I’ve managed to keep it up.

Starting a blog about my journey is one of the best things I’ve ever done in terms of managing my mental health. It gives me something to focus on and helps me to challenge my thinking because instead of getting lost in it I have to work out how I’m going to write about it when I get home.

What is your proudest moment in your life?

Hmm. I think finishing my first degree. I was still in early days recovery from an eating disorder, and all things considered my brain really wasn’t well. At the beginning of my third year at University it all got too much and I tried to take my life. I didn’t succeed and I’m very proud that when I was strong enough, I took myself back to University and tried again and finished up with a rather respectable 2:1.

What is your biggest achievement?

I know it sounds daft, but getting to today is a pretty big achievement in my book. I’ve had some pretty dark times and it really is big news and a huge achievement that I made it this far.

What makes you feel happy when you’re down?

Sometimes, nothing helps – that’s the nature of the beast I suppose. When I get bleak like that I just have to hold on tight and wait for a different feeling to come along. The only good thing about feelings is that there is always another one on the way if you don’t like the one you’ve got.

If I’m just a bit sad as opposed to suicidal and bleak I crack open the Monk box sets. Rather aptly, I am obsessed with Monk and it never fails to make me smile*

Is there a particular song that makes you happy?

Loads probably, but sometimes even songs that make me happy end up making me sad because I think about listening to them when I was happy! If I have to pick just one I’ll go for this one:

Is there a film to make you happy?

Wow! I’m not sure there is. I’ve been racking my brains and all of my favourite films are sad! Could I pick a book instead? If so I’ll go with Jane Eyre because despite all the misery and heartache everything turns out okay in the end. Kinda.

If you’re happy and you know and you really want to show it do you clap your hands? Or what do you do?

If I’m happy and I know it and I really want to show it I laugh. Laughing is good for you and it’s nice to share it around if you can.

What is your favourite inspirational quote?

Oh I’ve got loads. I love a good quote! How about this one: ‘Great things are done by a series of small things brought together’?

Do you have a “happy place” where you like to go and hide from the world?

Apart from my bed which is the place I usually go to hide, I like to wander down by the River and empty my head a little.

If you was happy and I was sad how would you cheer me up?

You can’t always cheer people up. Sometimes you just have to be there for them whilst they wait for sad to pass. So if I was happy and you were sad, I’d head round to your gaff with a couple of tea bags, some lotto tickets and this:

And I’d keep you company till the sad had passed.

If happy was a person who would he look like in the real world?

Like this:

Or this:

Or maybe this:

Or perhaps even this (if it was a sentient being rather than a person):

Love from WeeGee xx

*Apart from Mr Monk and the kid, which never fails to make me cry!

WeeGee goes to a party

So. I went to a party. Here’s what happens when WeeGee goes to a party.

1. When she realises that she can’t remember the last time she went to a party she will enter a state of sheer panic. What does one wear to a party? Should I take a gift? Why am I going to a party – I hate parties? What if I cry? What if I make a fool of myself?

2. Taking into account the aforementioned panics plus at least a trillion others WeeGee will decide she is definitely not going to go to a party.

3. However, when she receives a text from the person who is hosting the party saying ‘no worries if you can’t make it tonight. Have a nice evening’ she will decide to go to the party after all because she’s sick of proving everyone, including herself, right.

4. Whilst on the way to the party WeeGee remembers the ‘gift panic’ and makes a detour via waitrose where she spends a stupid amount of time trying to decide whether to take wine, flowers or chocolate.

5. When WeeGee decides she can’t decide whether to take wine, flowers or chocolate she will decide to take all three in order to overcome the problem.

6. However, when she gets into the queue to pay she decides taking all three is ridiculous and has to surreptitiously  dump the flowers and chocolate before reaching the till.

7. Upon arriving at the party WeeGee feels like an idiot and has to try very hard not to cry, or puke, or both.

8. When WeeGee realises she spent so long faffing about in Waitrose that she missed SIR FRANK TURNER PLAYING AT THE OPENING CEREMONY WARM-UP she feels like an idiot and has to try very hard not to cry, or puke, or both*.

9. (And this is the big one) WeeGee doesn’t cry, puke, or spontaneously combust, in fact she doesn’t even have a terrible time at the party.

10. WeeGee wonders why she doesn’t go to parties more often.

Lots of love WeeGee, party animal!

*Everytime I remember that I missed SIR FRANK TURNER PLAYING AT THE OPENING CEREMONY WARM-UP I still feel like an idiot and have to try very hard not to cry, or puke, or both.

Expectancy, excitement, crying, a mad rush, more crying, even more crying and a dilemma (with the potential for more crying): A day in the life of WeeGee

What can I tell you?

I woke up with this strange feeling of expectancy and the feeling has stayed with me all day. I can’t explain in better than that I just feel like something is going to happen – I don’t know if it’s a good something or a bad something, and to be honest, I don’t think I mind much. Something is better than nothing, right?  Of course, I don’t claim to have any kind of psychic powers, in fact, I’m not at all convinced that such a thing exists so who knows where this feeling of expectancy is coming from. Mr Hilarious suggested that it’s probably indigestion* and I can’t argue with him since I’ve never actually (to my knowledge) had indigestion to know what it feels like…..

Anyway, Kingston was buzzing with Olympic excitement again this morning as the torch made its way down the river from Hampton Court and under the Kingston Bridge. I headed down to the river like the dutiful citizen that I am and I have to admit it was a little bit exciting. The thing you have to bear in mind here is that I am possibly the most cynical person in the world when it comes to things like that, so me saying it was a ‘little bit exciting’ means you can probably multiply up by a factor of at least a million to get the idea. Everyone was all happy and smiling and friendly and it felt like being on holiday in the friendliest place ever. I liked it. A lot.

Whilst I was down at the river I bumped into some of the gang from work so I didn’t end up watching a big boat with a big flame floating along the river all by myself which was a bonus. In the end, all things considered, I think a good time was had by all – even if the Riverside cafe had run out of bacon by the time we got to the front of the queue meaning that we had to content ourselves with pastries which were nice, but not quite as nice as bacon butties would have been.

When the boat actually went passed I got a bit caught up in the moment and the cheering and the friendly holiday atmosphere and found myself…. wait for it…. crying! I don’t know why, it just happened that way. I have to confess that I felt like a proper chump when Mr Hilarious noticed and pointed it out to everyone**. What can you say – I’m a sucker for a big boat with a big flame – get’s me every time?!

Work was a mad rush not to leave any major catastrophes for someone else to deal with because as of tonight I am on leave for two whole weeks. Woop woop! The timing is lousy given some of the things I’m working on at the moment, but it was a case of use it or lose it and I decided that I really didn’t want to lose it because that equated to working for free. I love my job but you do have to draw the line somewhere.  I got everything done and I don’t think there are any ticking bombs with my initials on anywhere, but if there are, and they go off I won’t be around and I almost don’t care!

Aside from being a mad rush it was also a sad day at work because one of my fellow ‘seniors’ in the Finance, Planning, Resources and Compliance Team*** left today. It’s always sad when someone moves on but it was especially poignant for me today as this person started on the same day as me so we’ve always kind of stuck together. The thing is, we work well together but we’re not especially close so I wasn’t expecting be so sad to see her go that I was moved to tears during the leaving presentation and I certainly didn’t expect for us both to blub like babies as we hugged goodbye. It’s funny how things catch you off guard sometimes isn’t it? Anyway, the main point is that I don’t cry at work, because I’m a professional like that. Today was a great big major exception and I don’t plan on a repeat performance anytime soon even if I do still feel a bit sad about it now. Boo hoo.

As I write I am trying to figure out the following dilemma: is WeeGee going to go to a party?  I don’t like going to parties which means I never go to parties. Not going to parties because you don’t like them is all well and good, but never going to parties is totally rubbish. I can manage one small party where I know almost everyone can’t I? But I’m a bit emotional today so what if I have a little drink and turn into the crying girl at the party. No-one likes a crying girl at a party, especially if the crying girl is a) WeeGee and b) mental….. I said I would go. I don’t want to let people down. I want to go. I don’t want to go. Oh F……. iddlesticks.

Before I sign off I should let you know that the brain is still broken, but the brain and I had some words and it seems to be giving me a little bit of peace for now.

That is all.
Love from WeeGee who is going to a party. Who isn’t going to a party. Who might be going to a party xx

*Because he’s hilarious like that

**Because he’s also hilarious like that

***That’s FPRC if you are in the know

Dear Person

Dear Person,

You have been there in the background for too long now, and tonight is the night when I say enough is enough. It is time for you to leave me behind and I you.

I suppose you will wonder what has brought this on. The answer, is time. The time that I’ve had to make sense of everything that didn’t make sense until I had time.  Last night you sent me a message and fifteen minutes later you chased it up wondering what on earth could be the matter that I hadn’t responded within fifteen little minutes. Tonight, I guess you are busy, because there has been no message and no chase up and you don’t seem to be interested in what on earth might be the matter.

It always was on your terms – whatever it was. I no longer accept your terms. I’m not here when you’re lonely and gone when you are not. I am here always, such is my way but such is not yours. I have been held back by ‘your terms’. By the words you threw at me – like ‘this might be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made’ or ‘do you want a lodger’ or ‘I’m so unhappy without you’. No more. No more your words and no more your terms. I’m not as vulnerable as you think.

Does this mean I don’t love you? Not at all. That I love you is the deepest, purest and truest thing I ever did or ever will do. Some things just are – they can’t be changed. But what I can change is my presence. I am here for me, in my life, in my world and not for you in your life, in your world when it suits.

I am learning lessons. I don’t suppose you expected that. But then again, I’m not as vulnerable as you think nor indeed as vulnerable as I thought.

Lots of love from WeeGee (being all cryptic but feeling great)

Take that, broken brain (Hold on: the sequel)

I was really touched by the comments my lovely WordPress friends left on my last post, Hold On. As always, you proved yourselves to be a thoughtful, kind and very wise bunch and the comments certainly gave me a little lift when I read them at lunchtime during ‘one of those days’.

What really struck me was how, no matter what goes on in our heads, we always seem to find something to hold on to. I think it’s amazing that we find different ways of just keeping on doing it day after day, especially when you consider all of the horror we face.

Anyway, I got to thinking about all the brilliant people I’ve met on WordPress all of the brilliant things they do – raise families, hold down jobs, study, write blogs and so much more. Most of it must seem pretty ordinary to a ‘normal’ person who can do all kinds of ordinary things without having to do battle with themselves first. In my book, that makes the fact that mental people do ordinary things in spite of being mental pretty extraordinary and, for that, I wanted to give anybody who wanted one a big friendly pat on the back:

As for me and what I’m holding on to? I think I’ve worked it out. I’m holding on to the fact that one day all of this will be better and I’m very determined that I’m going to be around to enjoy it when it is. So: take that, broken brain.

Ta ta for now, WeeGee xxx

Hold on

When you’re mental, holding on is something that you get quite good at doing. You ‘hang on in there’, you ‘cling on’, you ‘keep on going’. After a while, you get quite good at all that holding on to stuff.

I’m good at holding on. I’ve been mental enough to not want to be alive for more than half of my life and I’m still here. How’s that for holding on?

Today though, I’m thinking of the things I let go of so that I could keep on holding on. The people I loved, the things I cared about, everything I wanted to be – so many things that I had to let go of just so I could hold on to something. I don’t even know what the something I’ve been holding onto is.

We’re all holding on, aren’t we? I feel like I’m holding on to nothing much. What are you holding on to?

I think I’d rather have held on to the things I let go than whatever it is I’m holding on to now. Does that make any sense whatsoever?

This is a short post. It’s about holding on and that’s what we all do. I’m just not sure what I’m holding onto anymore. Boo hoo: