Thoughts

I would like to start with how pleased and proud I am of myself, without trying to sound too big-headed, at the progress I have made. From the outside, the view you get is of a layabout, without a job or working towards a degree, thus making me lazy and automatically a dole chaser. Of course, people are going to make assumptions, because that is human nature. Subconsciously, people judge a book by it's cover without reading the blurb first. Not on purpose, people judge others by what is put in front of them. You cannot see an invisible illness, so people judge by what they see on the outside. A normal person, throwing away his life.

I can certainly understand the viewpoint. So much so, that I sometimes walk along the streets of Bedford, on my way to the town centre most probably, trying to work out if a person walking in the opposite direction has any internal problems. Of course, it's impossible. You cannot tell. I end up concluding that very few people have the perfect life, so the vast majority of people put on an act.

I know. Sometimes, I even scare myself with the things I write in this thing.

I think there are a lot more people out there living with evils inside them. Evils that they are trying to ignore, hoping they'll go away. I have even noticed some grievances in close friends of mine, and have often wondered whether they have or still do experience similar feelings that I do. For, despite the so far successful treatment, I still get lapses. I try to fight them, telling myself that things will get better once the opportunity arises, and once I become more mature and grown-up, using techniques I have learnt recently to combat the darkness. Sometimes its impossible. But sometimes it isn't.

Take today for example. I had not wanted to wake up at 10am, as I had not slept very well so gave myself the reward of an extra couple of hours sleep, before complimenting that reward with hard work*. Midday came, and I felt exactly the same as I had a couple of hours earlier, yet forced myself to get going. Dragging my feet along the carpeted floor of the upstairs landing towards the bathroom, was so draining and exhausting, that it seemed the only possible solution was more sleep, thus sleeping deep into the afternoon. This is the effect that depression can have. Zero energy, zero motivation to do the most simple of tasks, like walking, it can be soul destroying. The first hour this afternoon was hellish. All I could think about was sleep and more sleep, never waking up, never having to face the day. I didn't have any lunch, for I had lost my appetite, before a dimly-lit bulb appeared above my head, telling me that getting outside would fix things. Grabbing the classic combo of keys, wallet and phone, I went outside to grab my bike, with the buckled back wheel, and went on my way. 5 minutes into the journey, I could not continue. Cycling was impossible, my lack of energy being very palpable. I could not give up though. So I walked the rest of the journey to town, with my bike in tow, feeling horribly dizzy and light-headed. I was in a rough place.

On arrival in town, I locked my bike up, although I would have been very pleased if someone had stolen it if I'm honest, and went to the bank. I had promised Father Mitten I would put his money in his football club account, so that was one errand to do. For the rest of the time, I grabbed a chocolate bar and a bottle of Vimto, and walked the familiar route to the Job Centre. The machines were still down, as they had been the day before. My head still hurt, and walking was very difficult. I ended up sitting down on a bench for half an hour, observing passers by as they went about their daily lives. How many of these people are living with what I've got? After a bit more walking around, I stopped to observe the unfortunate events in the hub of the town centre, where there was a blaze surrounded by a large number of emergency services, before walking back to my bike and begrudgingly cycling home. For some reason, this was slightly easier than the outward journey, despite being uphill.

Upon getting home, I physically threw my god-awful bike into the garage and went and collapsed on my bed. Falling asleep was not an option, so went downstairs to watch TV, still dragging my feet on the carpet, as I had done 5 hours previously. Breathing heavily as I got downstairs, I sat and watched Come Dine With Me, the news, (which is mostly negative these days), and endured 10 minutes of Hollyoaks before deciding that food was needed. I have since spent the rest of the evening dossing on this very laptop.

Do you understand where I'm coming from? That was a very frank and honest account of my day, and what did I do? I woke up at midday, cycled to town, walked around a bit, cycled back and dossed. Yet the effort to do so was so huge, so monumental, so colossal, that it left me drained of all energy. Despite feeling rather tired, I know I won't get to sleep before 2am, so won't even try. This is every day. This is my life at the moment, and despite trying anything and everything to look for work, most of the time, I wonder how the hell I'm going to cope with the demands and pressures of a job, when I can hardly muster a trip to town without feeling completely exhausted.

I can do all I can to change the way I think, of which I have made a decent start, but I feel I can't change a single thing to how I react to events. Maybe a routine will help this, but when the time comes that I have to settle down and go to bed at the same time, every night, waking up at the same time, every morning, I'll have lost the ability to enjoy life. Which is what I should be doing right now, but can't. In all honesty, I feel like I'm lost in a huge jungle, trying to fight my way out with a machete. I have tried being rescued by someone else. I have tried creeping out, hoping no one will notice. Now, I'm battering my way out. Slowly but surely.

At least I have a weekend of football to referee, with the good news coming this evening that I have received a County Cup Semi-Final that is to take place next Sunday. A good end to what has been a tough day fighting the illness that has plagued the best years of my life. I won't give up.

*You're wondering when the "hard work" occured? The whole day was hard work. My point exactly.