A week...

A week seems short in the grand scheme of things. Living it though, as you get to the end of it, it seems very long.

A week ago, I had just got back from a concert. Russian a cappella music, just 4 men singing and standing a few metres away from me. I was feeling un-positive before I went, in fact, I wanted to hide. Quite literally, hide under my duvet in my bedroom.

Saturday saw me attend a tutorial. Seems ages ago that I did that. But it was only Saturday. Tutorials generally either are positive or negative. No middle ground (story of my life, I'm too much of a "black and white thinker"). This was positive. I got lots from it, mostly about how to set out my solutions, and I think my tutor is starting to see past the labels.
[I have the problem that I am introduced to people by this intimidating list of my diagnoses, my special education needs, a list of the help I am currently receiving to study... Which means that I have to try extra hard to get people to see *me* rather than *my labels*, which don't always have the same goals.]

Sunday, people were very complimentary towards me. Saying I was cheerful, that my music was wonderful, that I was looking fantastic and happy and slim. Which compounds the negativity in my head at times. Because for one thing, I am not slim. My body just isn't slim. In terms of numbers, I am less fat, but I am still fat. In fact, I'm huge. Effing huge. Where I have lost the weight, I have ended up with horrible wibbly wobbly scarred stretch-marked ickyness. Hideous. Yucky yuckity yuck.

*ahem*

Monday, I posted the blog post before this one. Wasn't a great day. Really horrible actually. I felt bad.

Tuesday, I did a lot of stuff for the first time. I went to London on my own. Bought some food, on my own, without buying unsafe stuff (never done that before, I have been restricted for years by my headcrap). Spent over 8 hours without knowing anyone. Sat outside for over an hour - I haven't done that just in my own garden before, due to "paranoia" levels. Went to a concert on my own. Ran - I never run, I'm unfit (see fat paragraph) and have rubbish stamina for such things - for a train. Basically was independent. I'm able to care for others, if needs be - the physical support stuff, but I need them to be with me. I'll talk them through scary things, hold their hand, but wouldn't be able to do it alone. I'm able to stand in front of hundreds and perform. But put me in an unknown place and I will go into meltdown. Nearest wall will have me bashing my head against it, hands over ears and generally being non-functional. I hate the different parts of "me" as people can't equate the sides of it as the same being. But yes, I am me, and that includes the non-functioning and the high functioning parts.

Wednesday, I walked into a hedge. Then apologised to the hedge. Backed myself out of the hedge, took the snapped twigs out from my bag/stuff, and walked on hoping no-one saw me. I played for a string sectional, in which my playing seemed to impress the violins - who had never really appreciated what we are playing over their melodies in some pieces.

Thursday, yesterday, I saw my CPN. Not hugely pleasant, she likes to repeat phrases such as "Just look at how far you have come in the last year. How wonderful it is. You should be proud"... it drives me more bonkers at times. Took my sister out for lunch. Did my weekly choir rehearsal, was being picky. Trying to get my small choir to sing well is sometimes impossible, but hopefully my constant pickyness (alongside the pleasant side of me!) will result in a better sound in the long run.

Friday, today, I saw my university mentor. She actually cheered when she asked about Tuesday, literally let out a "woop" and clapped her hands. Slightly over-enthusiastic! Saw my STR worker, did more bus work. She drives me more bonkers too. Hmmm... Anyway, got back in one piece! This evening I went to do a good organ practice at work/church. In the dark, bar the small lights pointing at the pedal board and the music stand bit of the instrument. With the church doors locked. Hopefully didn't freak out any passing strangers, who wouldn't know that the friendly church organist was just practising her repertoire!



Alongside all this, I have had a week of ups and downs, panics and relative calmness. Fake smiles and real smiles. No tears, which has been quite nice - falling asleep on a damp pillow from crying at a picture/piece of music was starting to become horrible. Frowns, as always, have happened. Expressionless-face days have happened too - but I don't mind those, they take less effort.
I have made some not insubstantial progress on my current piano pieces - in fact, I'm starting to consider whether the orchestra I play 'cello with would cope with some piano + orchestra stuff. I wouldn't do a full 3 movement concerto, that wouldn't be accepted as a viable option (and might be too much of an undertaking for me as a first go at something other than chamber music) but I'm on the look out for a piece (about 10 minutes long, I suppose) which would be achievable.

Life feels rubbish at times. I take that as an automatic "Ah shit, I'm going to end up back in hospital with daily checks of me and my belongings" sign. I do jump to the wrong conclusions at times, because I'm not going to end up there any time soon. Stuff might slip, in fact, I'm probably going to have to realise I might get moved back to the CMHT after my specialist team time is up, or be referred to them in the future, but it won't slip now. Not immediately. Though months of work can be undone in seconds, this change in mindset will hopefully refuse to be undone fully.
Though I am still full of the negativity, I am able to function. I am never going to be a optimist, they annoy me, and feel unreal. But I am feeling 'OK enough'. OK enough is a weird concept, as I thought I would need to be simply 'OK' which is maybe unattainable, certainly it is now. So 'OK enough' it is. OK enough. Is that good enough, is that too low an expectation to have, is that OK enough? It will be. It will be. I'm going to make it be. Just watch, just watch me. All those who thought I would be dead, I'm not. I'm alive. All those who thought I would be nearing the end of my second year at uni, I'm not. But I am studying, studying that subject still, and I am going to attempt my goal, though by very different routes to what was planned. All those who say (admittedly mostly those in my busy head) I'm not going to succeed - well, you said I could succeed at killing myself, and I didn't, so I hope you are wrong about my future too.

Feck off voices, feck off whatever is termed 'mental health' or lack thereof, feck off. Let me live. Let me live. Please? Thanks muchly, ta. Speak again soon, take care, see you later crocodile, in a while alligator. TTFN. Bye.