I got pretty angry on Saturday. You don’t really need to know the reason: like most incidents of its kind in my life, the spark was remarkably trivial. My basic problem, however, remains very much the same. In fact, if I’m honest, that’s not much altered in almost twenty years. I still don’t feel comfortable talking about details in public, but there will one day come a moment when that changes. What spurs me to mention this today is a realisation that the overt sharing of personal details that Social media almost encourages individuals to take part in can be, for certain people, far more destructive than cathartic.
In fact I would go so far as to assert that maybe the threshold for sharing could do with some serious redefinition.
Sharing, like it or not, is quietly redefining the boundaries of every aspect of our lives. Without wanting to sound like an episode of Dark Mirror, what the World sees is instantly assessed and dissected with a speed I suspect many senior politicians now grasp matters far more than any speech or sound byte comment. One need only look at the Manchester Benefit concert last night to understand the power of positive action: a couple of armed police in the background of a piece to camera does the job, even if the truth is that they’re no longer needed. There are also, like it or not, so many differing versions of TRUTH as to make it often virtually impossible to discern the reality, which undoubtedly is found in the place where all these versions intersect. However, if you refuse to accept certain sources because you believe them biased and unreliable, how can there ever be a truly objective version of reality to begin with?
I’ve been struggling with digestion and fluid retention since the gallbladder removal, which I am told in multiple places is perfectly normal. These places also tell me that my issues to begin with could be because I’m gluten and/or lactose intolerant, that there could be a more serious liver problem… oh and while we’re at it I’ll never eat fatty food ever again. None of this references the effect this has with with menopausal symptoms, or considers that I might just have stopped being careful with calorie counts. The truth, of course, is that all of these things need to be considered, as a whole, before making any kind of sweeping judgement about anything. That involves intelligence, consideration and awareness: you can see why it is often simply easier to pick the first thing you come to as ‘truth’ and not try and assess anything else. Down this path madness lies, a different variety to the intellectual overload that can result when people drive vans into others or detonate a shrapnel bomb in a stadium full of kids.
Mental health care is what should be at the top of everybody’s agenda right now, and that’s where this blog post came in.
Saying ‘I don’t care’ is always a lie: those middle finger .GIFS, the ‘Fuck You’ assertions are simply a defence mechanism. I care too fucking much, on any given day, and this last few months have hurt. All of it, every detail, is pain that makes body ache and mind whirl, constantly. I woke at 4.30am this morning because I was afraid I’d sleep in
and miss the first day back at School and muck up my duties as taxi service and food production. I’m back to the weight I was in January with all that good work shot, and really do have to start again. The last thing I need, before starting the next part of life, is to feel as if everything worked for to get to this point is effectively for nothing. The World reminded me this weekend: the past never leaves. Learn to live with those mistakes and assuage your demons, for they can never be bought off. You don’t get better.
Go back to small meals. Don’t beat yourself up over failure. Try and keep your promises. Make a difference every day. Tell people when they do well. Don’t knock them when down. Put one foot in front of the other and cry when nobody is looking. Eventually, you get happy again and for a brief and glorious period forget why you were depressed. Maybe, if you work hard enough, you’ll have less to worry about this time around and not more. Don’t believe everything you read on the Internet, and if in a month you’re not back to normal then go see a Doctor. Above everything else, don’t stress too much about the stuff you can’t control, and focus on the stuff you can.
Just keep repeating this, and it will get better.