The Anonymous Maus.

I began to have a nervous breakdown last summer.  It was the most serious breakdown of the several that punctuated my life since I was about seventeen years old. (I am thirty six now.)

Today my partner said goodbye for a few days, and I realised I am going to be alone with my thoughts, and that this is a chance to get myself together, decide on a direction, and go for it.  This blog is the spontaneous creation of that moment.

I am writing anonymously because I work for a Government Department.  I will sometimes have things to say about that Department, but my views in no way reflect the blah-de-blah disclaimer etc.

The blog is also anonymous to protect my loved ones, who had no say in me creating this blog, and no idea that I was thinking of writing one.  I haven’t discussed it with them, and as yet, nobody knows I’m writing it.

During my breakdown I spent a lot of money.  I had been careful with money previously.  Then, I went mad and gave it away. Literally.  I came clean about this to my partner once the bank called to inform me I had spent a nightmarish amount of money. The spending had amounted to about £12,000 in two or three months.  This was money accrued as debt.

During those months everything passed as a blur of harsh light and heat, loudness.  This is how things have often passed by since.  The world has seemed to have no solidity to it. I have looked at my life as though from far back in a tunnel, where there was no feeling except for anger and self-hatred, and occasional aching numbness. The impulse to spend was driven by an awful need to punish myself, and be punished by others.  The origins of this need will be discussed at other times in this blog.  This is a deep seated urge, and until I can beat it I won’t feel free.

I couldn’t sit up straight some days.  My partner had to yell at me to sit up to keep my head out of my dinner plate. She had her own shock and anger at what I had been doing.  I have no doubt that she felt cut off from the person she felt she knew, and awfully isolated as she battled to save me.  For my part I made her efforts harder.  I became emotionally impulsive, and frighteningly unpredictable.  I would go a few days with some semblance of control, and then drink a frightening amount- an issue I have had since I was in my late teens.  Or I would become angry or upset.  Or I would sleep all day, and be awake all night. I stopped working too for three months, though fortunately I didn’t lose my job. I was selfish, and difficult and angry with myself, but unfortunately that rage transmits outwards.

So, where I stand right now…

I am currently ‘on’ 30mg of Citalopram for anxiety and depression.

I take Betablockers three times daily for anxiety.

I feel I drink too much for the wrong reasons, and am looking to quit. It is dancing with the devil, and we know that just ends with you having your soul nicked off you.

Right now I’m pretty broke, and partly relying on others in order to feel secure.  This is going to change very quickly so that I can begin feeling secure in my own right. Maturity and self-control is needed in this respect.

I am to stop feeling flaky and stupid as though I am unable to stick to anything, by getting stuck into life, politics, philosophy, art.  These are interests I have always been blessed to have and I look to deepen my knowledge in these areas.

I begin from a place that must put away fear.  Fear that my efforts haven’t been enough, that I have indulged myself in some way and fallen into feeling powerless. Instead of this I will seek to regain control, and better than this empowerment.  It is scary to worry that I could completely derail at any minute and so I will discard this fear.

This blog will be about the good habits I will form over the next few months.  The techniques and methods I will use to achieve certain aims, and what I am learning along the way.  It will also be about actively not relapsing, and being open about the stresses and difficulties I experience in my workplace, and day to day.

It will also be for my partner to read, when my attempts to verbally explain myself become derailed through the shame and anger that comes with past failures.

As a friend of mine noted, typing the word brave over and over makes you feel good, and well, brave. So here goes, brave brave brave brave brave.

This blog has been about my fears in many ways.  But for today and in the future, I am aiming for bravery to win.

Bravery Wins.

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