It's 1am on a Thursday morning. I can't relax enough to sleep. So here is another rambling post for you to ignore/enjoy/laugh at.

After spending 4 weeks in isolation so far, it's safe to say that my mental health is slowly deteriorating.  I know a lot of people are in the same situation as me with regard to their mental health and that it is a very difficult and uncertain time for all of us. This isolation period has given me personally too much time to think about things, where I'm heading and what the future may hold. Damn you, overactive imagination.

Take bedtime. At the moment, I have no defined bedtime. My sleep pattern is non existent. One night, asleep by 12. The next night, hopefully by 5am, if I'm lucky. I then lose half the day asleep, which then sets off a chain reaction of deteriorating mental health, bad eating and general malaise. I'm trying to stay active, but, I'm almost out of things to do around my home, I haven't got an outside space to go into, only my appointed exercise time and I can't visit anyone or have anyone visit. 

The act of just going to work meant that I could interact with people and now that's been taken away from me. This then multiplies my feelings of loneliness, which leads to self doubt and lack of confidence that I will find someone. I'm used to being on my own, but away from virtually any human contact is really tough to deal with. It's becoming tougher with every passing day.

I haven't been out now for 7 days. Yes, I know I should get out and have my exercise, but I can't face it unless me leaving the flat has a purpose; i.e. shopping. Today, I have a double purpose for going out. Collect my meds from the chemist and food shopping. That'll probably be it until next week. Who knows? I think, in a way, I feel guilty for going out just for a walk. I shouldn't, but there's always that niggling feeling that I should stay indoors and not go out at all. 

I am mindful of how far I've come without having someone by my side or my biological nearest relatives beside me. I have wonderful surrogate families and friends around me, but I long for that big hug and the love and affection that I haven't had for years. I miss that feeling of belonging, closeness, love. I worry that being on my own for so long that I won't be able to open up to anyone fully again and I'll be alone now until I die. 

I thought I was making headway on this one after my counselling, but this past few weeks, I've gone backwards. I look at myself everyday and wonder how I've got to this point in my life. How I haven't taken the easy route out, filled myself full of chemicals or alcohol, slept around or just headed off down the rabbit hole of hedonism. How have I survived the hand I've been dealt with, all the bad things that have happened? Is it me? Am I just difficult to get along with? Am I too strong willed and stubborn? Do I like things done my own way? Some of it, yes. All of it, maybe. I just try to do what is best for the situation and for other people usually, without thinking of myself. I think It's what I've always done. 

I will get through this; I always seem to find the inner strength to survive. Yes, I may seem cheerful, have a smile, crack a joke (albeit usually a bad one!). I use it as a mask to deflect my inner hurt and pain so I don't bring anyone else down or make or feel sorry for me. Please, this is not a cry for help - It's always just a way of sharing my innermost feelings and thoughts to whoever reads them. I don't write these posts for the sympathy vote. I just want people to understand why I sometimes act certain ways or do certain things. Why sometimes I don't do things or see people (when we can). 

My life is a maze of emotions, appointments, battling my own demons, dealing with the loneliness and trying to be the person I should have been, whilst gong through puberty, holding down a full time job and running a home. I sometimes fail. I say the wrong thing, I don't get back to someone, I forget to do something. That's usually because I have shut myself off for a while just to regroup and calm my overactive mind. That's my coping mechanism. Just not 4 weeks (and counting) of it.