Same Changes

I am not a fan of change. I am not a lover of inconsistency and I certainly don't like being let down. I struggle to deal with any of those things and I probably take much longer to get over these things than "normal"* people do. I just like things to stay the same, which is pretty unrealistic.

Changes make me anxious. Being surrounded by the hustle and bustle of change makes me on edge. My company is moving offices and we had a removal company in on Friday, packing away our things. It was loud, busy and confronting. I had to leave the room to breathe. My head was spinning, I was short of breath and felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff. All because a man was wrapping office furniture in bubble wrap. It doesn't make sense.

I don't know why I don't like change. I have moved house so many times I can't tell you a number. I don't know if that makes it ironic or understandable. And even though once change happens, I adapt pretty quickly, I just... don't want change to happen. The anticipation of change is awful. Thinking of all the scenarios that will ultimately go horribly wrong and ruin everything, over thinking every decision that had lead you to this change, thinking about thinking.

Inconsistency, is much the same as change. I just don't like it. I just want things to be steady and the same and reliable. There is comfort in consistency and patterns, I don't care how boring it is. Routine is safe. You know where you are with a routine, it's like a blanket, comforting and familiar. I think that if you have a lot going on in your head, and wow, I do, then a routine is the easiest way to get through life. Taking the thought process out of as many simple tasks as possible. Some would even say, automating the process.

Routine is important for mental health. I think it means that you can spot warning signs earlier and know if you may be falling into a bad cycle. Making life as calm and as reliable as possible is helpful when you are doubting everything you think. Making your brain as quiet as possible is always preferable. For me, that is achievable by disrupting as little as possible.

That's not to say that I don't make any changes at all. Of course I do. I mean deep seated routine, plans made far in advance, "the way things are"; they are all the hardest to change. Last minute changes to plans can throw me off balance, they can whip the carpet out from under me and sometimes I don't react well. Mostly, things aren't as bad as I think they will be, but the prospect of change and the reality of change don't even each other out. I still fear change. I just need to learn to remember, not all change is bad.

You can't, however account for other people's behaviour in all of this. People will always let you down. It's sad but true. You can only ever rely on yourself and to be fair, even you screw up from time to time. People can't be expected to never change and you can't think that they won't have to change up your plans. It's just that you have to learn to go with it. You can't control everything and you will never be able to. Sometimes you just have to embrace change. Well, maybe give it a small pat on the back, let's not go too far.

*I know there is no such thing as normal, but when I say normal, I pretty much mean people who don't feel like I do

Here is a nice song - enjoy!

Safe mode

I have recently found myself pretending to be ok. I have been pretending not only to others, but to myself. It was like catching someone telling a lie, discovering that they were hiding something from you... but it's yourself. You really don't have any excuses, lying to yourself is futile, you'll always be found out.

I realised I was just holding it in and not coping well. As soon as I realised this, I had a breakdown. I slipped back horribly into old thinking patterns, low mood, physical symptoms and harmful thoughts. My brain hurt. It was painful and all too real and felt like it would never end. I found myself trying to walk home but immobilised by the feelings, unable to think straight and crying uncontrollably. At one point, a very concerned man stopped and asked if I was ok. I, of course, said yes.

He clearly knew at this point that I was far from ok but apart from offering to get a taxi for me (which I refused) there was little more that he could do. I thanked him profusely before he left me where I was standing, snotty and crying and "ok". Obviously that wasn't going to be the moment for me to stop pretending. This kind stranger didn't really want me to start talking. His concern was for my safety but I'm sure had I said "Well, seeing as you asked...." he may have retreated rather quickly.

I was hard on myself and I felt that I had no choice in letting the feelings engulf me. The next day, walking home, again it hit me. I realised that only a few days earlier, it had been a year since I had decided I was going to commit suicide. Suddenly I felt like nothing had changed and I was no further forward. I couldn't see any of the progress that I had made, I could only see the black cloud that was surrounding me and dragging me down and I let it. I felt helpless. My brain, however, decided upon a different course of action.

I call it safe mode.

I know for a fact that when my brain goes into safe mode, I act weirdly. I feel it, I watch it happen, but I am not in control. Several things happen; I retreat into myself a lot, I am very wary of other people and even jumpy, noises startle me and I say almost anything that comes into my mind, my filter is broken. I become wide eyed, fragile and somewhat childlike but my brain stops hurting. This lasts as long as it needs to, just to get me over the worst of it.

It's as if my brain just dulls itself. I think less and I listen less. Inside my head becomes a little bit quieter but this comes at the cost of me being less able to have a conversation. Short bursts of perhaps off topic subjects and an overwhelming tiredness.

I wish I could turn it on and off myself but I am not in control of it, just as I don't control my depression or anxiety. It is yet another part of myself that I don't understand and probably never will. Right now I am still running safe mode partially, though I am definitely regaining the controls.

I am not ok but I am also not "ok".