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Saturday, March 3, 2012

Madness

 "I will go mad!", he announced.

"Good idea," said Ford Prefect, clambering down from the rock on which he had been sitting.

Arthur's brain somersaulted. His jaw did press-ups.

"I went mad for a while," said Ford, "did me no end of good."
                               
                                                                                               Douglas Adams, The Hitchhiker's Trilogy



 

 
 Two hours of sleep. Fantastic. The last couple of days have been pretty low. I have attempted to write in
 this blog three or four times but all I really wanted to write was "fuck it". Fuck it, fuck it, fuck it. I know
 I need to be more positive, to be more engaged in life, to get back on the horse as it were, but there are
 days when nothing seems to go well, when problems mount, and fuck it is the mantra. I try to redirect
 those thoughts, to find a positive outlet, but sometimes I just can't.


That's ok, though. It really is. One cannot win every battle in a war. Small victories are sometimes the only thing you get. Hey, I managed to get out of bed today and go to work. The rest of the day sucked. Some mistake is made, thoughts lean to black, the whole thing wants to come unraveled. Fall back, regroup, the enemy is still out there, we'll get 'em next time, soldier. I have to view it this way. Otherwise, I really shall go mad like the hapless Arthur Dent.

Medication and therapy, both useful tools for recovery, cannot substitute for effort and resolve. They are there to help facilitate things, to make it easier to continue the fight. Sometimes, it is necessary to at least let the negative thoughts come to the surface, identify them, bring them into the light, so as to realize what things need dealing with. As long as I am still fighting, still have my boots on, it's ok to feel bad. There are situations and circumstances that will come along, some consequences of the disease, that will be unpleasant and negative. Some may be beyond my control. It is ok to look to the sky and say "Oh, come on. What the hell did I do to deserve this?". But I have to know, really know, in the back of my mind, that I will persevere. Until I can look at my reflection and see that resolve, the steel, I will use the medications and therapy.

I will likely have another day, sometime in the near future, like yesterday. It will suck the wind out of me for a little while, knock me down. But I am determined to climb to my feet and keep going. I will win this war.