Post-Meltdown Post-Mortem

Well, first, it’s clear that I have not accepted inevitable failures. Til now, I hadn’t created something I couldn’t save. Each piece had a feature I disliked, but I was satisfied enough to share it.

I’m a perfectionist. It’s held me back throughout my life. If I can’t do it perfectly from the start, I don’t do it. It’s a limiting worldview. I’ve always admired and envied those who take real risks, unfazed by a public experience of trying something – sometimes horribly – for the first time. Or if they were frightened by exposure or humiliation, they braved it anyway.

So there’s that.

Also, I’m looking with new eyes at a belief I’ve held for 2 decades. That I won’t kill myself because I promised not to at 23. I did try once after that, but never again. It made a difference. It got me through the most dangerous years of this illness.

And so because I’ve had success at not dying, I forgot to be vigilant. Yesterday, I told my cats to fuck off, because I can’t kill myself until they die. It makes me sick to even think how that feels to them. I try to tell myself they don’t speak English, but that doesn’t matter. They speak energy.

They’ll forgive me. They always do. I didn’t yell. But they know. My pain hurts them, even if they just register more stress. Dis-ease. God, I hate it when hippies do that. But it’s real. Disease makes us sick. I don’t want to hurt them.

I have to look honestly at my future. I have to fix this shit or I’m gonna kill myself in 10 years. Why not? I don’t fucking care. It’s a tragedy when a young person dies with all her promise and beauty. When a sick middle-aged woman goes… Well, as far as I’m concerned, it’s a choice that belongs to her alone. Some forms of cancer kill. Some don’t. Why is mental illness stigmatized for the same thing? And yet…

It goes against instinct. If I were attacked, I’d fight to live through it. Even today, with a wish for sweet death, I’d campaign for my life. We’re programmed to survive, so if my wiring is telling me not to, my circuitry is askew. So, time to get real. I’m not well.

Awareness… is a good thing, right?

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3 thoughts on “Post-Meltdown Post-Mortem

  1. You sound as if you are unbalanced, off-center, with no anchor. When this has happened to me, medical tests indicated physical problems that indicated real-life fixes that worked ( could you believe that my office life left me severely deficient in vitamin D?) but more than that, you need a spiritual teacher. When so one is so afraid to forgive themselves, it shows a lack of self-love and self-worth. Doctors and prescriptions don’t touch that.

    • I went off my meds for 9 months while Jax and I tried to get pregnant. When I couldn’t bear it anymore I went back on them, but the side effects were so unbearable after that break that I decided to try something else. It takes a long time to work up to a therapeutic dose. So basically I’ve been unmedicated for a year, and that’s hard on a person with a bona fide illness. In fact, it makes me more certain than ever that I really do just have an illness. It can be that simple. I’m grateful again for modern medicine. No sense in suffering when I don’t have to. My pharmacist father always says, “Better living through chemistry.” I definitely believe in healthy diet and lifestyle first (though I don’t adhere to either like I should), as well as attending to one’s spirit. I’ll get better. I’m just struggling right now. (I’m afraid I continue to look bleakly at my future, regardless of where I sit on the stability spectrum, but it is easier when I’m not crying the tears of the damned.) (P.S. Redheads are Vitamin D superstars. Adaptive technology of melanin-shy skin. 😉 )

  2. I was in a similar place for years and metaphysics/spiritual teachings helped me out. You don’t have to find the same path, just the one that works for you- and part of the challenge is to find and recognize it.

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