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  • Writer's pictureMike Douglas

An Episode Starts

Couple of things before you read this one. I wrote this on 21st December, so know I am 'ok' now. Also I realise that the content and language within this post maybe triggering for some people. If you are likely to be affected by mention of self harm, suicide, particularly at this time of year, I ask that you read another article.

If you are affected by the words within this post or you feel you maybe struggling, please contact Samaritans on 116 123 in the UK and Ireland.

As I said I wrote this on the 21st. I felt an episode starting, fortunately I was able to grab a pen and my notepad. This helped me. I wrote this mainly for me, but also because maybe it will help someone else to know you can battle through, you can accept. While we struggle to acknowledge it for ourselves I can tell you, you matter!



I feel the change happening. I feel the tears forming in my eyes. I feel the agitation in my feet and in my hands. I feel. My neck and shoulders are tense. My back is tight, it feels both stretched and compressed. My mind is running, my breathing is becoming erratic. My eyes can not focus. I taste the sickness inside my stomach making it's way up my throat. Quickly then stopping, quickly then stopping. Like a cat climbing a tree. I taste it jumping around from tastebud to tastebud. For a moment it settles. Then there is more tightness at the back of my ribs, like they are being pushed together, crushed in a giants hand. My mind swirls, as does my head. My mind is confused.

What is this.

What is happening.

What is happening now.

What is happening with my life.

Why am I here. Would it matter if I wasn't.

What difference would it make. Everyone leaves, they say they care, but then they go. They take want they want and go. Why would dying be any different. Only I would be the one that got to go instead of them. Why do they want me to suffer like this? I guess they don't know or maybe they don't care. My hand shakes as these thoughts pulse from my veins onto the page, as I release my sins onto this page. My anger only grows, my annoyance at the world, my annoyance at me. Why am I like these. Why do these emotions grow. Where is my happiness. I see only sorrow and sadness, guilt, anger, frustration, confusion. An inability to focus on anything but my failure. While my headache grows, my gaze is less fixed, my breathing returns, the tightness remains but increases no more. It would seem that is it for now. I am left to wait till the feeling returns.

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