I don’t know how I feel this week.

Monday I was severely anxious.

Tuesday I was in a terrible mood, but social.

Wednesday I was withdrawn and was quite literally aching with loneliness.

Thursday I was completely anxious all day again.

And today, Friday, I’m feeling very blah.

And I don’t know what to do about any of it either.

Everything in my life is always so complicated and relationships, friendships and acquaintances come and go so quickly in my life that I have a hard time trusting folks nowadays.

I want friends.

But I don’t want relationships.

But I do want them.

But I don’t know.

And it’s hard with my diagnoses too.

I can be random.

I’m unreliable in friendships at best.

Physically and mentally.

I’m trying to work on it, and I am getting better with communication and things.

But sometimes, it just feels so forced.

But I guess part of that is the ebb and flow of life.

Most of the time I’d rather sit here by myself.

Yet I feel like I’m missing out on something at the same time.

Some days I cry about it.

Other days I’m unaffected.

The last relationship I had was only the second real relationship I’ve ever had, and it was the most toxic thing I’ve ever been involved in, so I don’t want anything in my future to even come close to resembling that.

So it’s scary to meet people.

I don’t want a repeat.

And the kicker is that I do have to be vulnerable in order to get friends and start relationships of any kind back up.

I have to let people in.

And at the same time, I don’t know how to do that.

Besides writing vulnerably, I honestly don’t know how else to be vulnerable.

I’ve never let myself be that way.

I didn’t grow up that way.

I’ve always had a guard up.

Walls are everywhere in me.

Because I’ve always had to be on defense from people’s thoughts and thought broadcasting and mind reading from people.

So I have to completely shift gears here, and start down a totally different life path and life outlook, with different filters, glasses and lenses, set and stage, at age 42.

Everything in my life is different now, since starting antipsychotics.

Everything.

The way I think, the way I act, the way I communicate, the way I interpret things, everything is different in me, and that’s really fucking tough to deal with.

It’s not bad.

But it’s not really great either.

It’s neither really.

It just is.

Imagine going to the doctor one day and they tell you that you have a disorder that you had no idea that you had.

You start to take a pill that they gave you, everyday.

And suddenly, one day, the medicine kicked in and your world outlook went from black and white, to color.

Not only that, but now everything you touched had it’s real texture, not just the generic smooth plastic texture you’d been feeling on everything for the past forty years.

Do you think you would have some sensory overload for a while?

Years even?

Bet you would.

That’s a very different scale of what I’m saying and going through, but still an example.

You didn’t even know you were seeing in a “problem” of black and white in the first place.

You didn’t think anything was wrong, but you’d been running red lights and not registering texture differences in your company’s products this whole time.

No wonder why you kept getting in trouble at work.

No wonder why you kept getting pulled over.

It’s kinda like that.

Everything is different now and it’s so difficult to really get that across.

This is why I talk so much about things “clicking” in me.

Things just fall into place one day.

So I know it can happen.

And it really feels like every few months I have some sort of epiphany like feeling from this new outlook – from being on antipsychotics.

It’s usually a huge step of progress in my recovery program.

And then I get stagnant.

Or at least, I feel that way.

I’m in that area now and I feel useless.

I know my body and mind are just processing things, slowly, and I’ll feel better in a few days, but damn, this transitional time shit sucks big time.

I feel awkward.

Without a goal, even though I have tons of goals.

It just feels like I’m not doing anything right now.

But working on yourself and bettering yourself can be a full time job at times, and I’ve been making it mine the past year or two.

I have one more year to sit here and reflect and really work on myself before getting back to employment work, and diving back into the real reality of the big bad world.

And that’s terrifying too!

I’m so scared to go back to work.

I’m terrified that I’ll fail again.

That I won’t be able to do it and I’ll end up miserable and broke.

I try not to think that way.

But it does pop into my head occasionally.

Let’s not go down that road today.

It’s just hard, transitions are hard.

And when I feel like I’m not making any progress it’s even harder.

But I am making progress.

Just not this second.

I’ve had huge breakthroughs in therapy the last few weeks regarding some dynamics I’ve been struggling with for a long time and things are finally feeling a bit better in that regard.

So why am I beating myself up?

Why can’t I just be content with where I’m at?

Because I constantly compare myself with other people my age which isn’t fair.

The bulk of people my age haven’t had to deal with the things I have mental health wise, and a comparison is really just out of the question, and even though I know this, I do it anyway.

It’s like I thrive on misery still in some aspects of my life and it’s maddening.

I don’t want to be that way anymore.

I don’t want negativity and darkness running my life for any longer.

And I don’t have to let it.

I’m learning how to comfort my inner child.

And in therapy we’re going to start doing guided meditations together to work on that.

My therapist, Jessi, goes on vacation in a couple of weeks but when May starts, we’re going to begin the guided meditations sessions and get to work on my inner child.

I’m so excited to do it.

So even though I’m so frustrated with my stagnant feelings today and this week, I am excited for next month.

Transitions are tough.

– Keren