Wednesday, April 27, 2011

A rarity

The concentration needed to read and comprehend anything more than a paragraph is nowhere to be found. The last two days I've tried reading other blogs with little success. Yesterday I started from the top and got about half way down. Today I started from the bottom and worked my way up to where I'd left off the day before. Wanted to leave comments for several people, but just wasn't able to regurgitate the words I wanted to say.

There are blogs in my list of faves that have been gathering dust and cobwebs, the owners having disappeared into oblivion without leaving notice. I hope wherever they are, they're safe and loving life. I know I should delete the links, but I can't bring myself to do it. I secretly hope they will return to blogging, though realistically they probably won't.

I'm a rarity among bloggers for having lasted as long as I have, nearly 7 years. There were times, most of them recently, where I thought I would give it up for good. But here I am, still typing away, repeating the same words in different order. I probably should give up blogging, especially since my words are so often repetitive, but even when I'm away for long periods of time, something always draws me back.

I had a notebook with me during my hospital stay, as I always do, but I wasn't able to write as much as I have in the past. A paragraph here and there, but nothing substantial. During the nearly two months I spent in the hospital in Feb/Mar of 2004, I filled 3 or 4 legal pads with my ramblings. I seemed to always be writing that it made both staff and other patients curious and suspicious. Was I writing about them? (Yes) Have I learned anything about myself? (Yes) Would I be willing to share anything with the group? (No)

I've been tempted the last couple of days to share my blog with some friends on Facebook and even with one of my brothers, but everything here seems far too personal to share with them. I don't want them to see the raw side of Sid. I feel there needs to be that barrier between how I truly feel and how I portray myself to them. Fear of rejection I suppose is the reason. If they really knew how screwed up in the head I am, I doubt they'd want to have anything to do with me.

In trying to apologize to my family, I did reveal the 296.34 diagnosis and I'm sure, if they ever speak to me again, they will treat me differently. I know my brother-in-law won't allowed me to babysit my nieces or spend time alone with them ever again. That terrifies people. Hence the reason I never revealed to anyone, not even my pdoc & therapist, the hallucinations and paranoia until fairly recently. Now that it's out there, it has become the elephant in the room that no one wants to acknowledge. My pdoc and therapist seem to mention it with great reluctance, though I haven't been able to figure out why. Isn't that a part of their job? Dealing with patients that might have psychosis?


Blogger sansanity said...

Some of us are not gone; just pretending to not be here. AS if not typing means I am ok.

9:00 PM, May 02, 2011  
Blogger FishRobber said...

a long time ago, there were a couple people from real life who I invited to the blog. It didn't turn out well in either case, one person in fact telling me "it's too much for me" (we are still friends, but not as close as before). In another case, one person who started as a blog friend became a real life friend, but then it became awkward for me on the blog side because I knew they were reading.

Remember Manica in Canada? Someone she knew in real life found out about the blog and pretended to be cool, then revealed the site to someone else, and so on. Eventually it bit Manica in the ass.

For me at least, the barrier between real-world and blog-world gives me safety. But there was the time I was discovered by my inquisitive wife, and that was bad too because I had written about real people who she knew.

Beware, heere there be monsters.

4:33 PM, May 06, 2011  

Post a Comment

<< Home