Hello from underneath rubble

Well hello there. Long time no blog.

The reason I've been absent it actually pretty embarrasing to admit in a public forum... especially when I haven't really told anyone in real life yet.

The last 8-ish months have been really trying for me. I think I can safely say that I've been struggling with my mental health, without getting TOO specific.

I have had difficulty mustering the energy needed to do the simplest things that I usually love - art, sketching, laughing with my friends. And that has ended in a lovely little spiral of negative habits.

Now I finally feel like I've interupted the spiral enough that I have a chance to breathe. But I'm not back on top just yet... Only not sliding down any more.

I wanted to quickly write about the sensation I've had lately, where I feel so awfully alone. Being an introvert, and a non-outgoing introvert at that, I find it difficult to reach out to people at the best of times. I recognise in myself a really bad pattern of not wanting to ask, or be vulnerable to people who I know would likely be there for me if I needed it - because I don't want to be rejected. Or be an inconvenience.

I feel bad enough for my husband, who has to put up with ALL of my crap... let alone someone who hasn't even married me.

I've found myself lying on my back, or staring out the window, thinking "If only I could just have someone who could be available to me." But feeling paralysed to reach out and ask someone to do that. And that ends up making me feel guilty, but also resentful - because I wish that someone would just be there for me without having to ask. Quite a self-centred thought, honestly. But that paralysis persists.

It isn't how I want to be. And it feels like I'm starting on a dangerous path, where I'm reinforcing these tendencies that don't serve me. I want to live honestly, and I am just not being honest. I have not been honest with most people for the better part of the last year. If you've asked me "How are you?" and I've said brightly, "I'm fine!" I was probably lying. And it is a harmless enough line, because you aren't socially expected to tell anyone who asks how you actually are... but even people who would probably listen haven't been given the truth. Because they'd get more than they'd bargain for. And it is scary to let them know that I'm struggling. Really struggling.

The perceived lack of availability, and my constant swing between despondency, guilt and resentment have left me alternating between depression and anxiety pretty regularly. Plus I'm awfully judgemental towards myself. I have discovered that I honestly believe that because I know better, I should just BE OK. SNAP OUT OF IT. Which is horrible - I'd never say that to anyone else struggling, yet I tell myself this... constantly.

Anyway. That's how it's been.
But with the help of my long suffering husband, I've finally sought the help of a psychologist, and I'm trying to learn acceptance and self-compassion.

I've started exercising again. And I've started yoga and meditation again.

I'm hoping that soon this self-care will translate to a more stable me. And a less empty me. One who feels as though she has the reserves available to do the things that make me happy, and make my loved ones happy.

Because that's who I want to be. I want to be content. I want to be available. I want to have enough in reserve that creative expression feels like a valve being released instead of pushing a boulder up hill, or an echo of something that used to be joyful.

And with that in mind, I will slowly, and lovingly, try to get up out of the rubble.