What is depression?

There have been many great articles written about depression and what it is, but I feel, depression is a different experience and explanation to everyone suffering from, living with and managing it.

Here a few of my own thoughts from today.

It’s taken all my time to crawl upstairs to start writing something and I know that sounds dramatic but I feel very heavy today. Every conversation is a finger twanging the string across my mind.

I just don’t fit anywhere.

I’m getting angry at my own frustration of not being able to participate normally in my own life.

I have moments of blinding light and days of deathly darkness.

Some days I don’t have faith in anything. The more I think the worse I feel everything is completely useless and pointless.

Depression is laying in a sofa carrying an elephant on your chest while a hypnotist is trying to Read the rest

My favourite dust

It lingers in the air like a big blue pear

It stays in your hair like it just don’t care

It’s the skin beneath my wind, who’s never once sinned

It’s the particles of my mind, seeping from my behind

It’s a duster away from ending it’s day

From a tragic misfortune, from the eye of a baboon

Around the sun in a fish, flattened more than a squish

I’ll be depressed if I must, my mind is my favourite dust… Read the rest

How not to begin your day!!

I woke with a cloud above me head this morning. For many reasons I spend a lot of time thinking and dreaming about my relationship. Because it’s new, I have been on my own for over five years and I generally find it quite difficult to add other emotional situations to my illness. So I spend time trying to work out what’s right and wrong.

I have been blessed with meeting the most incredibly beautiful, genuine, loving and supportive woman. I want to get this right for us. I don’t want my depression to take over and ruin another great situation in my life.

Anyway, my point from the title of the post is; At the beginning of the day, amount of time I think about not getting the day wrong means I am spending less valuable time actually working on getting my day right. So much so, that my … Read the rest

Is it your depression or reality?

This is quite a complex subject which has been discussed in conversations with my partner, Iza. Some situations occur where I am not sure if my depression is making the decisions or is the situations which are causing me to be depressed and react in uncharacteristic ways. I hope this makes sense.

The reason I ask is: one day in particular became steadily worse as it went on. Me and my partner were edgy with each other, as we usually are but something was different. There was a double edge of non-communication and frustration that we both hadn’t picked up while visiting friends. The night was ok and fun, but as we arrived home we were having heated words.

How I feel right now is, my depression is causing my mind to over think, over react and generally mix feelings and thoughts up. Which I understand and deal with best … Read the rest

Paranoid Pete

I know it’s a strange title and a very strange thing to admit. No one wants to admit to being paranoid. But given the shoes I have walked in and the footsteps behind me, it’s understandable. I do have some issues with paranoia and to add to that a huge mistrust in others. It’s my self protect mechanism from getting emotionally hurt. I am always on my guard and aware of how others can treat you and manipulate you.

I am always hesitant at writing things like, Life has been tough, it hasn’t been easy or even, I’ve struggled because I know there are many many more people out in the real world who have had it a lot tougher than I have. But, it hasn’t been easy.

My paranoia comes deep within, and without going into too many details, comes from my childhood. I know this, because I have … Read the rest

Conversations with Iza

Throughout this site (to date), I haven’t mentioned my partners name. The main reasons are; Firstly, I wanted to ask her permission and secondly, I also wanted her to read my blog first so she understood what I was trying to do with it. She may have been alarmed or ashamed, I wanted to be sure.

My partner, Iza, and I have been chatting since we started dating about doing something creative together. Many conversations later, we have agreed to commence with the idea of Monkeys in my head productions. So what is it? The primary idea is: A YouTube channel where Iza and I discuss mental health issues and how creativity can support a healthier life for those living with mental health issues.

Iza works in the care industry and has vast knowledge of mental health. She is the perfect person to create this site with.

So why am … Read the rest

The curse of over-thinking

After spending three weeks dealing with my monkeys and trying to stop them from ruining my life again, I finally managed to get two days with my partner. And it was just what I needed.

Since 2015 she had planned a trip to Paris and London with her cousin from the US. For a few weeks before it actually happened, I had been panicking about having people I didn’t know around me when I was feeling unstable. And slightly stressed about being in the house on my own. When they returned from their trip, I didn’t want to embarrass my partner by hiding myself away while her visitors were around. I was aware that they may think that she’s living with a lunatic.

It turns out I was ok and the monkeys were kind-of behaved. Well, I had a few days where things went manic and they were throwing shit … Read the rest

Touched by the son …

Saturday’s were always the same. Wait for my Dad to let us out of our bedroom, usually after he’d been to the toilet. Go downstairs – quietly. Sit on the sofa in silence, making sure our feet weren’t up on the cushions. Wait for Mum to come downstairs to see if she had a black-eye, I couldn’t look at her if she did – Dad would stare and frown at me. Dad had the bushiest eyebrows in the world, they scared me. Dad scared me.

Dad would sit in his usual chair beside the door to the stairs reading his paper. He was the gatekeeper to all of our nice things in our bedrooms. You see, I couldn’t have toys downstairs, it would make too much of a mess, plus Dad doesn’t like the noise children make. And I couldn’t play upstairs because the noise from the ceiling would disturb … Read the rest

Wait for my signal . . . .

THERE HE IS – GET HIM! was all I heard as I walked through the main gates of my school. I looked over at my left shoulder to see Kevin and Dean running as fast as their 13 year old legs could carry them in my direction. I turned in an instance, knowing full-well they were after me, and dug the fronts of my new Reebok trainers into the pavement and started running towards home. Home was only three streets away, down New hill, but it may as well have been on the dark side of the moon. It felt like an eternity from hearing those words to seeing my front door.

As a thirteen year old, I had already experienced more than my fair share of confrontation and violence at school and at home, so a run home from the school bullies was all part of my daily grind. … Read the rest

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