a warped view

How much mental illness can people take? How many posts on a blog? How many text messages asking for help, for comfort, for reassurance? How many sob filled phone calls? How many times can you show up with a tear stained face with nothing to offer but melancholy and pain? How many times can you cancel at the last minute because you realise you can't bring yourself to leave the house before people stop asking you places? How much depression can you show people before they stop trying to be sympathetic and get fed up with the drama? Every time I want to tweet that I'm not doing ok, or post on Facebook that I'm not coping, or write a blog post about the darkness I worry about people's limits. I worry that I'm THAT whiner who just goes on and on about depression all the time. Who never has anything good to say. Who brings everyone down with her constant downers. I wonder how many eyes will roll. How many will want to unfollow or unfriend me. How many will try and offe...

I'm having one of those nights that I sometimes have, where the sleep just won't come. They don't happen to often thankfully, and usually only when I've forgotten to take my tablets until late in the day. So I'm lying here staring at the darkness, thinking thoughts And remembering memories so I thought I'd blog. Dear AASP, I suppose this isn't really an unsent letter because I know you're going to read it, you asked for it in fact. I wasn't going to write it, because I like to be contrary and not do the things I've been asked to do. But as I lay here waiting for the sleep that is evading me I thought of all the things I wanted to say to you. There are so many things, especially for a mind that often dwells on the past, mulling over past mistakes, past indiscretions, the moments of my life I'm not proudest of. The dark voice never lets me forget those I've hurt. I'm sure I hurt you, how could it not have hurt? Yet in the last few days ...