A frost, icy sheen has carpeted our land for days. It's freezing. But beautiful. The crunch under foot on the grass. The slippery pavement. And a cold that is bitter.
The last week has been perhaps the most volatile I have ever had mentally. Hypomania, lows, rapid cycling, despair, rage, eruptions of anger, hopelessness, fear, paranoia. It's been tough.
In truth I haven't been calm for more than a month. Until yesterday.
Add in two events beyond my control and one can see why I struggled. My fear and distrust of dogs in widely known. So being attacked by my neighbour's dog as I opened the front door of the block of flats blew me away. This triggered an eruption of anger that scared the shit out of two friends. Then getting a call from the GP surgery saying they are stopping my trimipramine absolutely threw me. I was in trouble.
Yet yesterday I woke calm. My mood was neither up nor down. There was no fear, no anxiety, no paranoia. Just being. That is an unusual state for me.
Despite very difficult dreams I am still calm today. I'm listening to Turandot. There is a half shoulder of lamb in the oven studded with garlic and rosemary. I'm making a conscious decision to drink less. Adding my passion for wine to a vulnerable and volatile mind made things worse.
Will I go out into the snowy linen land and bring some colour? I don't know yet. What I do know is that I feel okay today in just being.
I Heard a Voice.