Talk isn’t cheap, it’s bloody exhausting!

So who's to take the blame for the stormy weather?

You're never gonna stop all the teenage leather and booze
It's time to go round
A one-man showdown, teach us how to fail
We're off the streets now
And back up the road on the riot trail

Sonic Youth. Teenage Riot.

Nobody warns you how exhausting mental illness is and just how many times you will have to recall the whole trauma of your onset, journey, current feelings and hopes/fears.

I’ve counted 16 professionals to date. Compare to say breaking a leg. You’ll likely be asked initially how you did it, but from then on, the treatment you’ll receive for it won’t require you to relive the incident, the pain and the agony.

It’s seemingly very different with mental illness. The pain, torment and trauma is all that you are asked to talk about, countless times, before, during and in follow up treatment. That’s an observation of mine, I can only comment on my experience, I don’t profess or pretend to speak for others.

Hopefully today (Tuesday) I’ve recalled this for the last time in graphic detail in my first care planning meeting with my CPN, unless I relapse or I choose to recall my journey on my own terms.

It’s not a moan or a whinge, it’s just what happens and it is really tiring mentally and physically. 

Yesterday I woke feeling okay, I have found Monday’s in particular tough, partly through it signalling another week commencing where I don’t feel well enough to contribute to work/life in any meaningful way, but also as there are changes simply as my wife (now referred to as my ‘carer’) works full time  Mon - Fri.

We had a meeting due with the head of urgent care of TEWV, so I did at least feel a sense of purpose in getting up. The meet lasted much longer than I’d anticipated (& probs more than all of us did!) but felt really productive. It had been through social media and blogging Helen had reached out and both myself and my wife were very grateful for the time to share what had worked well and where gaps had been in my recent care.

Partly I think down to the shaky Saturday night I’d had and also concentrating for so long, the rest of the day was taken up by a three hour nap and further lazing till an early bed time beckoned. More crazy mixed up and angry dreams followed. 

Whilst it remains very early days in what I hope is the first steps in my recovery, I’ve already realised I want to use our experience positively and to get more involved in influencing public sector mental health. What that looks like or how that happens, I don’t know right now, but what has encouraged me is the number of practitioners  I’ve had contact with who are clearly caring and professional, but are working in systems and processes that are disjointed and wouldn’t pass the ‘Ronseal Test’.

Did anyone catch Sunday’s Whitehouse and Mortimer gone fishing?What a lovely gentle programme it is, but the last episode featured a short chat about what men might say to their GP if they were feeling low. Worth a watch. 

Want to write more today but brain is definitely tired, I feel a long way from that rebellious teenager that hopefully still lies within, whenever I feel wronged or passionate about a cause. 

Keep on Keeping on

Blot x