My mind is a minefield.

 I think everybody has something that ticks off a bomb in their head that sends a marching band of bright flashing lights and loud crashing noises that point to a gigantic sign in your head that screams...
'IM CRAZY!'

Whether that bomb is...
Road rage
A boyfriend
A girlfriend
Parents
Or your nan flashing her M&S knickers to the milkman. (Again)

Mine?
Mine is a beast.
A cruel, sticky, grotesque beast.

Who threw all his baggage into his case and rammed it into my brain on a whim. Following the days after my mum got diagnosed with stage 4 cancer.

You lot may know him by his 007 agent name: DEPRESSION.

But I prefer to call him Jim.

Jim is a cock.

Me and him DONT get on.

He thinks that it's beyond hilarious to send surges of waves 'just when I'm feeling on top of the world' to tear me down from my golden tower and leave me drowning, gasping for air whilst his cruel razored claws scratch and scar my lungs leaving them raw to the sting of the salty sea water.
A constant reminder of the searing pain he causes me everytime I inhale.

He finds it a sport to leave me questioning myself and my existence and why every possible bad omen has placed itself upon me... and then some.

Leaving me wondering... how do I escape this wretched maze of turmoil?!
With the only logical option being to sear slices into the skin soaked seams of the border that keeps me locked in here.
The only way to make a quick exit.
The only option to escape.

And then as if by magic
POOF!
GONE.
VANISHED...

As if my mini apocalyptic meltdown mimicked a child dropping an ice cream cone on the floor.
Or that it never happened and life is great again and soon I'll be frolicking amongst the daisies singing 'there she goes' whilst hand in hand with my soon-to-be husband Tom Hardy.

What?!
A girl can dream can't she...

It's an ongoing battle of tug of war between me and Jim.
The Pervy old sod.

Some days he takes his steroids and viagra and manages to fuck my brain up.
And never in the good way.

Other days I'm loving life eating Nando's and thinking  about how great it is that there are more chickens in the world than people so that I will never run out of my favourite food.
(If you must know apparently the ratio of chicken to human is 3:1)
Don't say I never taught you anything...


This is something that is going to take a while to overcome but I'm getting there.
If anybody has or is suffering from anything similar please don't hesitate to contact me and have a chat!

If not me then the samaritans and mind are helpful links to make you feel that little less 'crazy'

Until next time

Nic xo

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Losing you

Sixty five roses

An introduction to my aesthetic chaos...