EN
EN PL

Tag: mental-health

  • september 10, 2024

    september 10, 2024

    I had quite an emotionally tough weekend. I’m still taking care of my mind – with mixed results. Although I must admit, there’s a lot of euphoria in me. On Friday, a few unpleasant situations happened, and on top of that – damn it! – I started feeling nostalgic.

    I started missing the deep, sexy voice and stormy eyes – which sometimes are like the sky. I probably should have written to my friend, something on a card – I know, I know – but I couldn’t hold back and sent a “bitter” message. Of course – I stepped into the ring and got hit hard.

    I’m not writing about this without reason. I dedicated the whole weekend to “mental recovery.” Lately, I’ve been spending a lot of time on myself. I’m trying to understand where my various, often harmful, beliefs come from.

    During yesterday’s session — incredibly exhausting — a lot came out of me. I felt drained all day. And you know what? I felt at peace with myself (though it’s a constant mental check), and with the situation that had been troubling me for months, I found out in the evening that we both feel abandoned.

    I admit — it relieved me a bit, but you know what is the worst for me in this situation?!? The worst thing is the lack of action, communication, just — giving up. Although that’s probably also a very strong message, right?!

    Can something beautiful happen between two people without communication, effort for the other person, or the willingness to understand their perspective?? Maybe I’m aging at a rapid pace, but — in my understanding — these are precisely the foundations of something good.

    Besides the worn-out, yet obvious clichés like trust, love, respect. And at first, my heart beat stronger, but soon after, I quickly realized it makes no sense if we cannot communicate, condemning ourselves to sadness.

    Such a pity.

    Alright, I need to take meticulous care of myself so that the silent — though actually squealing — stagnation doesn’t consume me again.

    For now, I’ve started creating simple reels — and I’m really excited about it, because I’ve never been into these kinds of activities before.

    Tomorrow I’m going to a trade fair in Łódź, and that excites me too.

    I’m thinking that even though old paths seem well-worn, safe, and “cozy,” sometimes you have to push yourself and go in a completely new direction.

    One that will allow you to grow and experience something much more beautiful than we currently think we can have.

    Alright, enough of these wise thoughts — I’m off to take the Youth to school and to the humble stable.

    Have a fantastic day!

  • september 4th

    september 4th

    I absolutely adore late summer!
    I wonder if growing older (or maturing, to put it nicely) changes our favorite seasons. But anyway—that’s not what I wanted to talk about today.

    Something truly lovely happened to me. After successfully sorting out some incredibly important matters (for me, at least), I was leaving the SSC (a big shopping center), and as I stepped into the revolving doors, I ran into a well-groomed, older, elegant lady. She looked me over a bit suspiciously and then blurted out:
    “First place goes to the beautiful lady.”
    I was so caught off guard I only managed to shoot back:
    “And right beside me on the podium—stands you.”
    She smiled and walked away. So did I.

    In my grubby jodhpurs, the ones Bon wiped her nose on. With her lovely-scented fur still clinging to my shirt and my worn-out riding boots flapping around.
    By the way—I’m convinced those boots are the reason I can’t gallop properly. It’s 100% them. Obviously.

    Next week, I’m heading to a trade fair in Łódź—can’t wait to sniff around, browse, and pick out the most wonderful, most beautiful, and comfiest fabrics for you, all stamped with my logo and a kiss from Bon.
    It’s honestly hard to believe that in just three years I went from total nihilism to this barely-containable euphoria.
    Bliss.

    P.S. Lately I’ve been dreaming about the “Machiavellian Man from the Past.”
    I guess these are the leftovers the brain throws out—like crab shells on a beach. Maybe.
    But I’m here, now. And I really like it.
    I’m learning that it’s worth it. Ugh—so sentimental—but I’m learning, and my brain is exploding from constantly stepping out of my comfort zone.

    Alright—enough. The wild roses in my garden smell way too divine to think straight. They bring back memories of our sea and that row of roses lining the path to some—I can’t remember which—coastal town.
    All charm and beauty, inviting you to a wild beach somewhere out there.

    As you can see—I’m off searching for tiles for imaginary Portuguese townhouses, so I’ll leave it at that for today.

  • Good morning, still very July-like,

    Good morning, still very July-like,

    I had a “crash” two days ago. I’ll quietly admit — I forgot about my pharmacy visit for two days. Really, I just forgot. My trip to get my meds was a cruel journey — not to mention the mental torment, torn by guilt, but also the physical aspect of dealing with the lack of chemistry in my head. Ringing in my ears, dizziness. Of course, I can only write about myself and my experiences — and while I think I have some control over the Demons, my body, having been in survival mode for so long, is now throwing various things at me. There are days — one or two a week — when I have absolutely no strength for anything. Physically. I can’t get off the couch. I do the necessary, essential tasks but totally without energy. Once, this was terrifying to me — how can I waste the day so stupidly when there’s so much to do at home, in the garden, etc.? Today, I surrender to it.
    I’m learning to listen to the body that wraps the divine mind, on which so much depends. It can make you your best friend or your worst enemy. One that’s obsessed, crushing itself. Exceptionally self-destructive. Okay, enough — despite everything, the learning process is (in my opinion) the most beautiful life process. Getting to know yourself is important, but the attempt to face your own fears, limitations, and finally change the beliefs that restrict your growth — that’s one hell of a ride!

  • July, 2024

    Oh my… I overslept! I honestly don’t remember when that last happened. Maybe it’s because of a dream I had — very sensual, as silly as that sounds. It was full of emotions I kind of miss. Some long-forgotten people appeared too. It’s funny how unprocessed traumas nestle in dreams (I think). One’s own monsters — sometimes disguised as someone pleasant. Confusing situations that seem meaningless, pulled from the depths of the soul or wherever. Freud said dreams are “a reflection of our hidden desires, dreams, fears, and anxieties” (Wikipedia and his devotees, though his discoveries cost much suffering and even some patients’ lives). Still, I really like his concept of the “royal road” to the unconscious. For me today, the dream was just desires :))

    A very masculine, burly man appeared (an actor whose name I won’t mention — probably to avoid embarrassing myself ;) — reminding me of someone from a hundred years ago — probably why he showed up). You know, one of those senseless stories like “what if I had chosen differently back then.”

    Anyway, this actor gave me everything I needed in my dream, all the things I most wanted but probably never had — a nice little ego boost for this cheeky mess. Let him have it! I always had style :) Now we fight smaller battles, though the Witch doesn’t give up and sometimes suddenly tries to attack. A nasty creature. A sleeping manipulator. A vile, sneaky bogeyman. Screw that.

    Anyway, the burly angel from my dream gave me lots of attention, tenderness, and a focus on me in a psycho-physical way. He let me feel weak when I sometimes need to. He was stunning in that thick wool sweater — a tacky little picture of warmth. A trick of reason.

    The dream’s finale was a brutally vivid reminder of a real situation. It turned out the Woolen Angel had someone — who, according to rumors — he murdered. Can you believe it?! I love my brain. It’s strong. Or possessed.

    I don’t mention this without reason. The conclusion was… me leaving. I simply went my own way. I think for anyone who truly loves themselves, who likes being with themselves, understanding that someone’s company — to put it mildly — stops serving them, stepping away is the best way to care for their mental health, especially when it’s propped up on constant “chemical support.”

    I had to learn this for a very long time. I wouldn’t be exaggerating to say it took me decades. I’m glad I get it now, really. I finally like myself — despite the Witch — though there’s still a lot ahead of me.

    My beloved Collins (Mom still remembers me listening to his music non-stop while I was studying for my final exams, and now I could drink cocoa with him in the garden and hug endlessly) sings:
    “What’s past is past, don’t turn around,
    brush away the cobwebs of freedom…”

    The past shaped me, taught me a lot, oh yes. It strengthened me. It was colorful, and I was vulnerable, pressed into “should, shouldn’t, I may, I must,” etc. Now I really know I want to live. I like it. I’m no longer ashamed to say what I need — and I understand refusals much better. Letting go of what’s not for me comes much easier now.

    Sometimes the Rogue still throws opinions about someone at me, but very quickly a thought pops into my head: “you don’t really know what they’re fighting.” I’m working on better communication with my Favorite People — results vary ;)) Just recently, a lady I work with said to me: “It’s good that you call because your writing is so unusual that I don’t always understand.” Seriously :))?!

    Alright, I’m off to pick fabrics — this is regarding that homage I mentioned earlier. I know, a bit of a long intro, but an important one.

    Note — today’s musings were sponsored by (okay, I admit it) Ben Affleck reminding me of The Man From a Hundred Thousand Years Ago. You can laugh now. But seriously — there’s always a way out. Always. Sometimes painful, sometimes uncomfortable, but always.

    Please, don’t give up!

    Text adapted from https://www.tekstowo.pl/piosenka,phil_collins,dance_into_the_light.html: “What’s past is past, don’t turn around, brush away the cobwebs of freedom.”

  • june still

    june still

    I’m a fan of Kobido. I absolutely love it! Maybe this kind of “slapping the face” helps me come to my senses?! I was there again two days ago. You know what? Indira, the girl I adore (a wonder with hands like vises), decided to put so-called “tapes” on me to help maintain the effect of the treatment. And you know what? She chose super colorful, rainbow ones for me. She said, “I thought these would suit you perfectly.”

    How easy it is to not be able to guess what truly lies within a person.

    Now I feel really good. I’ve done a titanic amount of work to feel the way I do now. A huge effort, driven by the will to live. Yet, even though sometimes it seemed to me that it would be easiest to end this process, I found my notes from that time, not so long ago after all. As I read them now, written on paper, on my phone – whether in emotion or completely without any – that version of me had a significant impact on who I am today.

    I am still ill, but I am already taking care of myself.

  • june 14, 2024

    june 14, 2024

    The brazen shrew has let go, overwhelmed by consistently taking forgotten pills. Mea culpa. Meanwhile, the fragrant fur and its tongue, carefully licking a watermelon, bring me great happiness. I am happy simply because I am.

    Yesterday, my favorite clients, the Mili couple, made me realize that I am suffering from a fatal illness. That sounds a bit scary. Speaking of “scary” — yesterday, after what the trainer and I agreed was a nice, good training session, while enjoying Bon grazing, “Mrs. Good Advice,” emerging from the depths of the fragrant, museum-like little house, suddenly spoke up, chewing on a cigarette.

    She told me that I should ride without stirrups — to improve my seat, that I have a stiff hand and that I raise my leg too high. The lady with the cigarette, squatting and handling various broadly defined tasks, “advised” me. Polish rot showed itself in all its glorious form.

    I was left speechless, and when I said, “I’m learning all over again,” she replied, “But you haven’t had a break.” It tightened—not her remark, but my attempt to understand why people… can be mean. I will never understand.

    All the stories from the past three years, the consistent attempts to overcome the Personal Demon, ultimately give me strength. I think that—almost fifty years old—I’m finally beginning to understand whom I should love the most. Myself.

    PS. To the “Charming Lady,” I wish focus on herself. Maybe it will still bear some good fruit.

  • june 12, 2024

    june 12, 2024

    The overwhelming Monster gave me a break, incapacitated by the chemicals whose doses we are steadily reducing with the doctor. Yesterday, I literally witnessed a comedy at the criminal department of the police. It just struck me – I had never really looked closely at our emblem before. In nature, does an eagle really have its claws spread as wide as on the emblem? … I feel closer to animals than to people. Without a shadow of doubt.

  • june 10, 2024

    june 10, 2024

    A look — especially today. Especially because in my (depressive) cycle, there are moments when a lot changes, and this is dictated by… my forgetfulness and a break in the “chemical supply” to the brain, where, after all, changes have occurred. I probably shouldn’t write about this, because in depression treatment it’s forbidden to stop medication on one’s own. So when am I really myself — when I take the pills, or when I stop them, wanting to see how much I can tame the Beast drugged by the chemicals inside me, which painfully makes me clench my jaws, causing tooth grinding. Which slyly whispers in my ear: “Forget the fools, despise them — show them!” In return, it offers me unbearable ringing in the ears, annoying buzzing. It commands my head to “spin” cruelly, somehow unable to keep up with the image, causing painful feelings of isolation, incoherence, aggression. Monster, Monster, will we always live in this almost complete symbiosis?!? Is chemical anesthesia the only way to you?!? If I fall in love with someone now, is it me or you, Deceptive Serpent?? I hate you, and at the same time — arrogantly and utterly absurdly — I quietly adore you, because I have a pharmacological advantage over you. Appearance only. Yet, you allow me to see in yourself stories I never dreamed of before.

  • June 2024

    Mornings at the “ranch” are amazing. I absolutely love my morning garden check. Mine is completely chaotic – just like the old me. What I enjoy most is sitting with a cup of coffee, barefoot in the grass, watching my herd (two dogs and three cats). They have daily rituals, and I love observing them. It’s heartwarming that they like being close to me. Although I’m not sure if they like it or just simply are.
    Alright, I’m off to the stable – I need to shake off the bad energy sent by the “Lady With No Class.” Well, I wish her all the best. That’s just how I am ;)

  • good morning on this wonderfully sunny Monday

    good morning on this wonderfully sunny Monday

    I’ve been struggling with depression for several years now. It’s been… varied. There was a time, about three years ago, when it was really hard — to put it mildly. I’m not sure what was worse — the feeling of my head being attached to a massive lump of meat, which had no strength to move and just wanted to lie there and slowly fade away — or the comments from someone I considered close at the time: “you’re creating your own problems.” Constant crying or — what I then thought was irrational — aggression. I cried watching a cheesecake commercial, and when the mascarpone whipped cream for my divine daughter’s favorite chocolate cake wouldn’t whip. I kicked the freezer drawer and broke it because it wouldn’t close. I couldn’t sit without leaning against a wall. I had no energy at all, like I really was that lump of meat — beef — and I didn’t even know why. I couldn’t sleep, then I’d wake at 3 or 4 a.m., unable to fall back asleep. In the morning, I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t wash my hair for weeks. I lost weight.
    In my case, the breaking point came with a thought — just a thought — that flashed through my mind as I was driving down toward the roundabout in Piekary. I was supposed to yield to a truck. I thought: “I’m just seconds away from peace. All I have to do is close my eyes for a moment, not brake.” That thought terrified me! I have a huge will to live — enormous! I always have. I called the therapist who had once helped me understand myself. I ended up seeing a specialist. It turned out I was in a pretty critical state, on the edge of being hospitalized.

    Shock! I was convinced that — as usual — I’d handle my “various things” on my own.
    Shock!
    I didn’t talk about it for a long time.
    Now I wonder why.
    I don’t know.

    On Friday, I attended the funeral of my uncle.
    The only thing that truly stayed with me was his grieving wife.
    Now, with the perspective of therapy, treatment, and three years of professional care,
    I can see that if I had listened to that fleeting thought back at the roundabout,
    I might have gained the peace I so longed for —
    but at the cost of someone else’s unbearable pain,
    someone who might have wept over my departure.
    Perspective.