Welcome To My Mind
Hello everyone. Usually when I write a blog post I have a fairly well defined plan of how it will go in my head. Todays post is different. It’s a bit of a head dump post, so I’m apologising in advance for what may be a rambling post.
What’s on my mind…..?
As anyone who knows me or regularly reads this blog will know I love Twitter. I make no excuses, I’m a Twitter addict. Amoung the people I chat to regularly is a group of 12 or so individuals who together have formed an unofficial support group. We look out for each other through all sorts of situations. Kids playing up, relationships, running out of wine, coffee or cake and a range of mental health issues.
Some of our group were chatting the other week about the recovery or remission stage of depression. One lovely Lisa mentioned how she feels stronger because of her last bad bout. Changed, but changed for the better. She wrote an amazing post titled Dragonfly about this change last week. You should check it out. During our conversation I said I don’t feel like I ever emerge from bouts of depression a better person.
I miss the old me
This was the phrase I used in our conversation. The phrase echoes something Lisa writes in her post. She acknowledges the.person she is now is different to who she was before her depression. The difference in our outlooks is how we view the old and new usses (is that a word? It should be). Lisa is like a fearsome warrior woman. Every time she fights her depression she comes away stronger and with new kick arse fighting skills.
I however feel more like The Black Knight from Monty Pythons Holy Grail. Every time I try fighting my depression I seem to lose another part of me. I’m not able to go out far on my own. I don’t feel comfortable around unfamiliar people. New places or experiences freak me out. Everything makes me afraid.
Sometimes I see memes on Twitter or Facebook about peoples weight. They go something along the lines of ‘I wish I could be as skinny as I was the first time I thought I was fat’. I often think ‘I wish I could be as brave as I was the first time I thought I was afraid of something ‘. Honestly the old Tracey was amazing and fearless. She would go places, meet people, try new things without a care in the world. I really do miss her.
A new start
Last week I wrote a post Its okay to be sad. In it I explained I’ve been laid off from my part time job. This means that I’m tentatively looking for a new job. I say tentatively because with my current level of mental health as well as issues with not being able to drive there are few jobs I feel able to apply for.
I am however taking the role of looking for work seriously and am regularly checking job sites. Yesterday on one site I saw a job for a residential home I use to work in many years ago. It’s this advert that bought to mind the conversation we had the other week and is what inspired this post.
For a brief moment yesterday I thought about applying for the job. I use to do it. I use to be bloody good at the job too. And then reality set in. Asides from the difficulties I would have getting to and from the home, I wouldn’t be able to do it now. Being out the house for 40+ hours a week. Dealing with new people, expectations and unpredictability are beyond me at this point in time.
The realisation that I can’t do a job I did 15 years ago makes me angry and frustrated with myself. If there was a physical reason why I couldn’t do it I could accept that. But asides from being a bit fatter, I’m physically the same person. And the job hasn’t changed, I’m experienced and qualified enough to do it. Nothing has changed except this big messy, frightened, self doubting thing in my head.
I wish that one day like Lisa I might see a better, stronger, inproved version of myself. If that day ever comes I would have no problem saying goodbye to the Tracey of old. Until that time however I try to hold onto the hope that my old self might still be out there somewhere. Lost for the moment, but not gone. Because the thought of staying like this forever is just a bit too grim.
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