Thursday, November 14, 2013

i don't know how you're going to manage.

“All those times I don't mention some great sadness upon seeing someone for the first time. Did I really think that by not saying words of consolation aloud, I was doing people a favor? As though to mention sadness I was ‘reminding’ them of the terrible thing? As though the grieving have forgotten their grief? ... I don't even know what I would have wanted someone to say. Not: It will be better. Not: You don't think you'll live through this, but you will. Maybe: tomorrow you will spontaneously combust. Tomorrow, finally, your misery will turn to wax and heat and you will burn and melt till nothing is left in your chair but a greasy, childless smudge. That might have comforted me.” —Elizabeth McCracken
A list of little miseries that can't be reduced to a few lines, but deserve acknowledgement nonetheless...
-The breaking up of beautiful and long term couples such as Maddy D and her boyfriend Platelet, and Lou and her boyfriend of three years...what's happening to my examples of long term, committed and completely in love couples? How do I comfort those who picked me up when the only thing I wanted to do was be down, down, down?
-EJ's been in hospital for almost a third of the year with a serious eating disorder and it's not getting better...I hate the shame she feels towards her body and illness, and desperately wish I could help. Mental illness is devastatingly cruel because it is the mind inflicting pain on the body, not the other way round (even this is too simplistic - EJs illness causes destruction to her body and mind)
-One of my closest friends is my psychiatrist, AP, who gets paid $4.50 a minute to listen to me sob, real off facts about mental illness and complain bitterly about CAT therapy; if I wasn't depressed already, this would do it
-Today my GP had to check, before thanking me for the cake I baked him last week, whether it was a ‘goodbye’ cake or just a ordinary ‘thank-you’ cake. The fact that once (and sometimes still is), this was a real possibility really fucking sucks
-No one thinks to offer cakes, cooked meals or condolences three months on from hospitalisation; even though my current mental state/physiological symptoms would probably land someone else in an emergency department at the words; seizure on public transport, misuse of sleep medication and difficulty keeping down meals. There is a timeline for grief, as well as being actively ‘at risk’.  I've passed both, people's patience is up
‘“I want you to listen to me very carefully, Harry. You’re not a bad person. You’re a very good person, who bad things have happened to. Besides, the world isn’t split into good people and Death Eaters. We’ve all got both light and dark inside us. What matters is the part we choose to act on. That’s who we really are.’”  —Sirius Black to his god-son Harry, JK. Rowling