by http://www.allinyourhead.co.uk/
One experience in my journey through this mental illness is probably the most difficult to explain.
I do not know if anyone can relate (please comment if you do) but I’m sure there are millions out there who have. Is that feeling just when you feel that sensation of a big bad panic/anxiety attack nothing at all seems to be real, everything stops while you mutter the words ‘Ohh Fuck’. What can save me???? I don’t know if that makes sense, but I will hold on to anything or anyone physically grip it/them and I cannot let go!
I have been talking to a fellow blogger (http://alittlepieceoflinn.wordpress.com/ Linn, she’s a top lady, real nice! check her blog out) I was trying to explain that I cannot get the feelings into this blog!!! I have been through them on so many occasions, actually felt it yet cannot describe them. However, I will have a go.
I’ll tell you about the time I couldn’t do a thirty five minute train journey with twenty mates for a local stag party (for my brother).
We finished playing football at around 16:30, the train was due to leave at 19:30, give me time to calm myself, get ready and celebrate. However, not so straight forward when you have s mental illness. The tension got to me in those stages and I could feel slight sensations. ‘Please no!!’ To the skies.
‘It’s my brothers stag for fuck sake!’
As it got closer, I drank some lager to take the edge off my thoughts, downed a couple. Still couldn’t shake it, I wasn’t giving in this time.
As we walked the two minutes to the station, i felt as though everyone was watching me…. As it goes,they actually were!
As we walked, I held onto every wall, window ledge and by the time they had clocked me, I was holding my brothers sleeve !! He was used to it, but the others were not. I knew only about twelve of those lads well, others were hangers on or my brothers work mates.
Instantly , my heart sunk. I felt like a complete dick! The looks I received didn’t cure my insecurity of my sanity either.
I had to carry on,still holding his sleeve I boarded the train. He sat me down and whispered ‘your ok kid, take it easy now you’ll be fine’
Great gesture to try and ease my mind but not getting through, I was gone!
All I could think of at this point was that I needed to get off this train. After about ten minutes, the train stopped at a ghost village, I heard the door open and ran as fast as I could and got out of there!!! Two of my mates and brother followed and found me crying outside a small pub saying to myself ‘this can’t be fucking real!!!’ It didn’t feel real, I didn’t care who saw me I didn’t know who was with me until twenty minutes later…. my tablet had started to kick in ‘the mask’. My brother feeding me a sedative in the middle of nowhere and the rest of the party heading off to have a ball!! I know there are a lot more people worse off than I , but it’s still doesn’t read right does it?!
I was so apologetic, to me I had ruined their night, would be the talk of the weekend, was a huge joke and wanted out, I wanted out of life, I’d had enough. To me, that was not the life I expected or wanted.
It was then I realised that even though I may have been a shock to 90% of the people on that train, the materialistic , image conscious showed their true form. Texts came through to the lads’ phones, ‘take him home,it’s best’ ‘is he mental?’ ‘Something’s not right with him’ etc Well my sunbed loving, steroid abusing , crop top wearing ‘joking mates’ there is something wrong, but you don’t deserve an explanation. bHowever, if I cramp your style with my long hair, pale skin and slight stature, do me a favour ‘fuck off? Please!’
Out of the twenty, I could class twelve as mates, three were brothers though, who I know that want to understand me, they will try but it’s so difficult to explain. I bet it is difficult to understand too!!
Well that bunch and I, after I’d had a few ales in that pub in the middle of nowhere with my brother and two of the lads…. to cut a long story short, we met up via TAXI (£15 each) and had a great night, I must admit I diced with the devil by mixing Fosters larger with a sedative, but I’m still here to tell this story of my brothers stag!! He gave me a little slap, but all was cool.
So I started off by explaining this feeling …… Ended up with a great night?? Why is this? Because when you want something so bad, you will make it happen! You will make it real no matter how bad or unreal this illness feels!
I may have copped out slightly by taking a tablet and then becoming a tad drunk along the way. But I knew who I could count on and a sense of security surrounds me with these people now wherever I am. What else, apart from wetting myself could I have actually done to put them off me?! Not that I’d ever try to. I may not socialise as often as most, but when I do, it’s with a select few.
What’s the message here then:
I think it is not letting your thoughts and feelings get in the way of something you know you can have, if you really want it! It’s to show fight and know who your allies are when the shit hits the fan. Choose the good folk, you will notice them from a mile off honestly, not who looks good or can make you popular etc…. They are the sheep!! Or the insecure bastards. After a fake pair of breasts that can match their own and a lady who will compliment their biceps for an evening (muppets).
Set up a happy camp and concentrate on doing what’s best for YOU 😉
Night night friends,
I hope this helps in any way.
Take care wherever you may be.
😉