I seem to have got out of the habit of blogging, but I’m thinking I should start again. The blog functions as a memory for me, and a way to meet myself in some of my different mental states. Without it my ideas of what has been going on are hazy. I know things have gone a little haywire lately, but when and where and why I just don’t know. I can’t give a convincing explanation in terms of triggers and reactions. I can’t remember the sequence of events.

I just know I got stuck again in a big “I CAN’T”. When I’m like that I can be stubborn in my misery, resisting anything that might make me feel better, denying that things are highly likely to eventually change again. I need to find more acceptance, cultivate the awareness even during those times that there are other parts of me that have an entirely different take on things. I’m never going to banish those feelings forever, they are part of the fabric of my life. But I think I could approach them in another way, so that I didn’t so entirely lose myself and come back to consciousness sometime later, wondering what happened, and feeling more than a little ashamed.

Not-so-new-now CPN came yesterday. We’ve had a slightly rocky road, had to work through a number of misunderstandings. She has a much more intellectual approach than my previous CPN. Sometimes that works for me, sometimes it doesn’t. Yesterday, for instance she was talking about stories and archetypes and redemption and religion and confession. I could feel part of me – an articulate self – wanting to respond, to engage in the discussion, but that part of me was far away and I couldn’t find her thoughts. I felt confused and vague and muddled and found it hard to focus on what my CPN was saying. I feel this way a lot with her. But I did appreciate her stating that it was not about willpower or strength of character, that they understood that sometimes this was just the way it was – difficult and shit – and that she didn’t want me to feel I was under any pressure from services to recover, that they understood it wasn’t as simple as doing x or y and in three months you’d be better.

This, of course, is the polar opposite of the Crisis Team’s approach. They told me last week that I just needed to think positive, push myself, and start participating in some activities. That I should go to the Recovery College, because, obviously, a six week course in managing anxiety would be revelatory and all my problems would be solved. But I think now that Crisis Teams can’t be any other way. They don’t know you, they don’t know what kind of person you are, or what your strengths might be, or what you’ve already tried, or your history, so what can they really offer except for the standard stuff, the same old same old, the impossibly simplified? It’s built into the structure and the system.

So CPN helped me find a little space within myself, as did my recognition that however desperately parts of me want to die others just as fervently want to live. After all, I’m not dead yet, and I’ve been suicidal more times than I care to remember. There’s something to be learned from that. And so today I got up and went back to trying to cope with my life and what happens inside me, instead of clinging to last week’s decision to give up. The house – which had been sliding into squalor – is half cleaned up. The Garden of Shame has become the Garden of Weeds, in that there is now a vague, rough apology for a lawn, surrounded by beds of weeds, rather than the previous jungle and chaos. And I am thinking again about projects and plans.

I think I will always live a backwards and forwards life, I think I will always be a bit messy and all over the place, I still have many memories I do not know how I will ever face. But I think I can learn to live with that, and hopefully with a bit more grace than I’ve demonstrated recently.