Write-Place

I had barely written the opening line to a new blog post, way back at the beginning of November  with appropriate links to past posts on a similar subject  - "Time for a post to prove to myself that I am still able to write a few coherent paragraphs, as I am feeling better than I did yesterday" ...  when  I became very poorly, physically and mentally and was barely able to function in the most basic and fundamental of  human actions. The reason, which knowing me or from reading this blog is not difficult to understand   - I had stopped taking my prescribed medication; yes again. (see links at end of post) The reasons for doing so are predictable (for me and for many others I have discussed this with). I was fine. My diet and lifestyle was healthy. I ate vegetarian and organic, drank teas made from herbs grown in my own garden, used home made soaps, laundry, home cleaners and toiletries which were "Free From All Nasties and Natural". I wanted, again, to...

Awakening each day from drug induced sleep, the terrors of the night scroll through your brain as you begin to surface from the torpor of semi-consciousness. Each fragment of the dormant state that whiled away some hours in physical inactivity begins it's struggle to be foremost in this heightening of lucidity. Your ability to become fully alert restricted by a lethargy that lingers till each wave of worry starts it's journey heightening the sense of dread, without clear reason. A longing to return to sleep becomes unbearable with each grasping, clinging thought, yet what the coming horrors may be stay hidden in the recesses of the soul.

So, after my post on Sunday declaring that I would blog daily on this issue which has taken over my life recently (again) here we are on Thursday with no sign of a further post since the declaration. Under the guise of "positivity", I will not refer further to this lack of achievement on my part, this week. It is after all a symptom of the condition I find myself in. It is also a symptom, which easily becomes a norm, to castigate oneself for every action and inaction that plants itself in the mind. This is neither healthy nor helpful, though almost inevitable, unfortunately. Further positive thinking which my brain is allowing me to verbalise, is that the medication that I was prescribed a week ago has clearly had a major impact on me and the desired and hoped for effect is obvious - to my family and to me. Being made to feel "useful" by picking up my grandchildren from school and helping with a bedroom blitz at my daughter's house has also been productive ...