All Change?

You find me on a quiet Sunday afternoon thinking about what to write today. Not sure what if anything I want to say. Not felt much like blogging recently but as it is Sunday, my day to write to you, here I go.

Changing habits created over a life time is very hard. There are several parts to my life. Up until we moved house on my fifth birthday. The wet days in the west country. The glories and agonises of Cambridge. Sussex Downs and angry teenage years. The pinnacle of my so called career back in Cambridge. And then the black hole that was mental illness. And it is that black hole that hangs over me like a shadow.

The coming of Risperidone in 2001 really changed things for me but that was sadly not the end of the story. Otherwise the travails of the last few months may never have happened. But what is clear is that mental illness is woven into my identity.

Last week it was suggested that I need to take it out of my identity. This is not the first time I've heard that. My cousin keeps telling me to let go of the past. But who am I without my past? If I take mental illness away where is my credibility in terms of work? My confidence is shot to pieces so if we take away what little is left that I have history that has brought me to that which I am today?

Slowly it is dawning on me that radical change may be needed but as I posed recently the questions from what and to what? Part of me would love to condemn mental illness and my contribution to that world to the past. One of my friends who has bipolar simply tries to pretend it never happened. I bear too many scars for that.

And what of my contribution to that world? Have I done some good? I have anecdotal evidence that I have. I also see my spectacular failures. I know I cannot save the world. But I'm still trying to prove I'm better that that which was done to me. I have said many times that I wouldn't have wanted to treat me. And inevitably I will meet similar people in my field.

If I turn my back on the world of mental health there would be huge void to fill. But what with? The answers elude me on this quiet Sunday afternoon. Perhaps I should stick to the simple pleasures, classical music, slow roast pork, a drive in the country, a glass of ale or a fine wine. Can't go too wrong with those.

See you all next time.

I Heard a Voice.