Which brings me to this part of my blog: Why my breakdown was the best thing that ever happened to me.
Firstly, I need to say to anybody else who has experienced similar, I am NOT trivialising the devastating impact such an experience has on your life. It is hateful. This is purely a personal perspective, not a generalisation. Ok. I worked solidly for 35 years. Apart from my maternity leave, which was only 10 weeks (I had no money so had to return asap) I worked in London, commuting nearly 100 miles a day from Kent and was exhausted from the day I returned or even before (a new baby really takes it out of you!) I had one holiday in 19 years. I likened it to being on a hamster wheel, round and round at great speed, unable to find a way to get off, so had to keep on running. When I eventually crashed and burned, it was as if somebody poked a pencil in the spokes of the hamster wheel, it came to a sudden halt and I fell off the side, broken, burnt out, scared and delusional. That was 15 months ago. Its fair to say the first year following that was very rocky indeed but recently things are becoming clearer. Life is much slower now. I don't work full time and will probably never hold down a professional, responsible job ever again. We are always skint, whereas previously I earned a good salary and we lived well. I had a busy and varied social life. It doesn't matter that its all gone - Phil and me laugh every day, we take Baldrick for walks, we sit in the garden or make some sandwiches and head off to the park.
It is rare for me to go to a pub or a gig now. I no longer drink and I cant really handle big crowds or loud noise. I have seen so many bands in my time, have been to the best (and worst!) clubs London has to offer, eaten in the very best restaurants, met very interesting people. I married a guy in a glam rock band, played roulette (not russian, lol) with Mick Jagger, and held hands with a very well known person (who shall remain nameless) whilst they cried in desperation at how worthless their existence had become due to cocaine abuse. I thought I had a life. And I did. A vacuous, empty, false life. Like a beautifully wrapped, expensive, exquisite looking box of chocolates, which when opened contained nothing more than cheap caramels.
Now I have a life. I really do. In the past, I thought there were Sparrows and Pigeons in the park. Genuinely. I really thought that was all the bird life that inhabited the place! Now I've seen Woodpeckers, Crows, Goldfinch, Pied Wagtails, Cormorants, Moorhens, Robins and more. I've photographed them all. I appreciate solitude, sunsets, butterflies, big fuzzy bees going about their business, flowers, the miracle of growing things from seeds, introspection, the way Baldrick blows down my ear to wake me up in the morning, the excitement waiting for Misti to give birth to her beautiful kittens and so much more. Previously, other than my great love of dogs everything else above would have gone unnoticed - I was far to busy working, going out, being full of my own self importance and thinking being a money making robot was definitely the key to eternal happiness (which begs the question - why am I classed as mad now and not then???)
Of course, that paints quite a rosy picture, but it's far from rosy - I'm still trapped in a lonely bubble, safe from the world and myself with an unreal, invisible security shield. It will probably always be like that, but I'm learning to control it now. Last week we had a big "tweet up" at Shorne Wood Country Park. Great people turned up. Lovely dogs. As we walked along chatting and watching the dogs crashing around and having fun I remember thinking to myself that even though I was in my bubble, I was "part of" the crowd. Not different. Sort of almost "normal" (whatever that is) nobody treated me any differently, nobody spoke to me as if I was the local nutter, nobody avoided me (or at least if they did, they were polite enough that I didn't notice lol) It's not much, but it's a start. I have a LOT of issues I need to address. I am awaiting CBT. My OCD is ridiculous, my fears irrational. But I feel I've made some headway. Infact quite a lot. And that has to be better than none at all.
