Feedback from the first post of this new (not exactly different) blog included information about various possibilities for retrieving the previous, deleted blog. The more I thought about it, however, the more I felt like I wanted to leave those words behind me and accept the decision I made in the moment to remove them from my life. As someone who is accustomed to looking over my shoulder, albeit usually to try to better understand the present and imagine the future, I may have some small lesson to learn from simply letting some opinion pieces of the past go.
I will be knee deep in the past before too long anyway. Tomorrow I have my assessment with the mental health services with a view to being offered further support and, it is to be hoped, some more time with the therapist whose input was so valuable a couple of years ago. Whatever mutant strain of my warped psyche is at play in this current journey through the dark I have thus far proven incapable of managing it on my own. I do know that I have learnt and grown from past therapy as I am more able to accept that I’m unable to significantly suppress or overcome this shit right now. It is how it is: not a zen calm and love of whatever happens, more a gritted teeth resignation that denying the darkness is not my most practical use of energies.
Whatever is decided after tomorrow’s assessment will take some weeks to play out. Six weeks from consulting my GP about this downturn to being seen by the assessors is actually a swift turnaround (as well as one which highlights the lack of seriousness with which the nation continues to address mental health). So a two week interruption of my more normal life in order to spend another two weeks in Ohio with my bestest buddy will substitute for therapy.
Travelling thousands of miles and placing myself in amongst countless other human beings during my journey seems counterintuitive at a time when I can become overwhelmed by anxiety just going to the shop across the road. Yet I have the memories of last year to buoy me up and push me forward. I was far more frightened about the prospect of boarding a plane last April, having not done so for nearly fifteen years. I’m sure there will be some stress once I’m at the airport awaiting the call to board in a couple of weeks time but I’m not currently having nightmares about it which was happening several weeks in advance of my last journey.
At the other end of the flight are good, loving, wonderful people with whom I felt great happiness and affinity last year. Such people and such experiences are what I would like the majority of my time left on Earth to be about. Sometimes I have to take myself out of my comfort zone in order to spend time this way. So be it. I’m not cowardly, just prone to anxiety and depression.