Life, the Universe and the Melancholic

I reflect a lot on where I have come from, past experiences, friends, relationships, family, the time I accidentally threw out the most epic story I wrote in year 3. I was convinced it was going to be a best seller, it was about this off the wall family that moves house and you get to follow along on all the ensuing hilarity. I thought it was awesome. I once sent a story I wrote about toothpaste that makes this kid invisible to a children's book publisher. I got a knock back. I was 11 years old and a bit devastated. I loved writing stories as a kid, my teachers thought I was quite a good writer and most encouraged my creative writing. So a dream to become an author was seeded inside a young girls mind. I would live in an apartment and get a cat, and write fantasy, adventure and a tad bit humorous novels. Kind of like Kathleen Turner's character Joan Wilder in the movie Romancing the Stone (one of my most favourite films by the way), except I wouldn't write romance novels.

Last week I put my script in at the pharmacy for my "keep Fred in his box" medication. When I went to the counter to pick them up, the man at the counter handed them to me and asked why I was taking them, "There's a few things you can take that for is all", he said. I resisted the urge to blurt out that my brain is broken and that it is an anti-Fred, and just explained it was being used as an antidepressant. He went on to ask if I would be interested in some supplements that could help. "Yeah sure, why not", I said. I figured what could it hurt. He writes down the supplements on a piece of paper, but also walks me through some of the ones available at the pharmacy. The list was for vitamin B, vitamin D, flaxseed oil and probiotics. He also let me know about a book that he recommends and a group that runs seminar type sessions on depression and brain health, among other things. I was very grateful, "Thanks for helping me out. I think I was close t

Psychology has been an interest of mine for a while. It had been on my radar when I was doing my final studies in high school. But life got the better of me and shit happens, as they say and well I pretty much flunked out my final year. There was just too much life stuff happening at the time for me to focus and apply myself. Which on reflection 20 years later is a shame and I feel regret at not being able to achieve the results I know I am capable of. I had always done well in school. It was a great place to be for the most part, until angsty, emotional teenage drama came and ruined it all. And unlike the straightforward formula to doing well in academia, navigating the social jungle of adolescence was not my forte. It was easier being a misfit loitering on the outskirts of the social norms. And that is where I have stayed. I always figured it was out of choice, but as I have become a parent to a few children on the Autism spectrum, I often find myself scratching my head and ponderin

I feel like I should say something like "forgive me Father for I have sinned...it's been two weeks since my last confession,  well breakdown" Anyway, that clearly makes no sense So it has been two weeks since I had a major breakdown. And I mean panicky, emotional, unreal, need rescue medication and partner takes the day off work breakdown. It is a milestone. I am quietly optimistic that my streak will continue. But. I still have days when the panic looms, like a black cloud ready to burst a volatile storm all over my life. The black panther waiting to pounce and tear my mind to shreds again. Days when it actually happens are scary for me and tough for my family. When you are physically ill , it is easier to comprehend the implications of a cold or flu or a stomach bug. When it is your mind that is ill, it is a different ball game. Even the time line is unknown. Since riding this mental health rollercoaster, I often wonder if this is just my life now. Maybe I will be li