The sort of twee 'It's good to talk' media-friendly approach to dealing with mental health is a load of bollocks. Everyone responds differently to different scenarios, there is no cast iron rule. You just have to do what feels right to you.
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The sort of twee 'It's good to talk' media-friendly approach to dealing with mental health is a load of bollocks. Everyone responds differently to different scenarios, there is no cast iron rule. You just have to do what feels right to you.
I think there's a happy medium between my approach and what you're getting at, but the difficulty I found was that you don't know what feels right and it takes two weeks (or it did in my case) for the effects of doing the right things to be felt.
Agree on the media friendly approach being horseshit and would personally take that a step further in that to me at least there seems to be a narrative (much as there is with being fat) that it's ok. It isn't. Find out what needs to be done to sort it and do so.
I had a glimpse (and thankfully only a glimpse, so I don't want to be insensitive to those who have had far more) as to what that might have been like if you don't get it early enough and it was terrifying. My brain literally didn't work and I'd have lost my job, my friends, family, my hot tub and eventually my home if that had continued.
Psychology is a load of BS. A good psychiatrist might be a good call, but good luck getting a good one. Also, even psychiatry is mostly trial and error.
I haven't actually seen one yet. I diagnosed the cause of my issue from reading what causes brain fog. I'm seeing one on Wednesday but I've gone for a relationship councillor as everything (including almost all people) is irritating me at the moment, although that has improved since I started sleeping properly.
The lesson here is that sometimes people just get a bit fucked off at times and not everything is “mental health issues”.
This could be a really long post but I'll cut to the chase:
Let's just assume my life has been a 2/10 since COVID shutdown the world.
Here's my latest update to a friend: "Saw the friendzone chick again, once again a highlight of my year, once again going home sad as fuck."
I cant wait to leave.
I have seen a Psychiatrist and a Psychologist since I was first diagnosed with Bipolar. Huge benefit that I got in early and stuck with it. I feel very lucky because bipolar can be really rubbish I feel sorry feel people with zero support.
Rat Update
0 bodies found, but not sure if the poison's been taken yet. Did find this this morning though.
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Things that I've seen/found in my garden in the last month:
Hedgehog family, badgers family, dead hedgehog fetus, a badger corpse, a fucking lynx.
Fucking circle of life happening in my garden.
edit: proof of Lynx
I didn’t get that.
Me neither, but it sounds serious. I wouldn't mess with him.
Proof of Lynx sounds like an advertising campaign executed through the medium of a glossy film trailer for something that will never exist.
Also, what on earth is that picture meant to be showing?
The lynx must be one of those eight pixels you can see.
The two lights being it's eyes?
That's the only thing I can think of as possibly being proof of a "lynx".
I would like to know what road Bamster was taken. Maybe I will pm him.
I'd watch a sitcom written by Bamster, to be fair. It'll just be Til Death Do Us Part with more swearing but Britain's ready for it.
Rat Update
Jack is back on Wednesday, but in the meantime just had a baffling conversation with one of my neighbours (not Amy) through a gap in the fence. She's Spanish so while she does speak English some of this may be lost in translation.
I lit a fag and sat down to smoke it and heard:
Her: There are no rats in the box yet
Me: No, there won't be, it's just the poison in there
Her: Is it one box for both houses?
Me: No, there's another box where the nest is in your garden and I've got two over here
Her: Oh, ok, who paid for those? Was it the owners of the houses
Me: In a way, I own this house and I paid for all the boxes and traps
Her: Why did you do that?
Me: Because I don't want to live with rats
Her: You're not living with them are you?
Me: No, they're not in the house yet, but there's fuck all to stop them getting in if they want to, so I'd rather they were dead, the rat man is back on Wednesday
Her: Why?
Me: To check what poison has been eaten and take next steps
Her: How will he know?
Me: Know what?
Her: How much poison has been eaten?
Me: He'll check the boxes and assume whatever isn't in there will have been eaten.
Her: But how will he know how much was in there?
Me: He put it in there
At which point she just sort of gave up.
This second episode is much better.
I know, right. I swear random shit like this is happening to me all of the time lately. I also kicked a rat across a pathway today, completely inadvertently and nowhere near my home. The thing went fucking flying.
They've clearly sent a scout out to track your movements. God rest his soul.
I had to go to the Post Office, again, which is sort of behind where the Coventry is on this map.
The red bit circled is a pathway with loads of bushes either side that zigzags down to the car park where my car was parked. On the way back to the car I ran down this zigzag pathway as I had to get back home for a 5pm call (who puts a call in for 5pm btw) and while running I felt this thing land on my right foot. I looked down expecting to see a child's ball or something and it's a fucking rat, that is in the process of being launched down the pathway. Unreal.
Kicking rats now. What's next? Dogs?
Scratch my initial theory. The rat has clearly escaped from Oriental Express. Hopefully you booted him closer to freedom.
To be fair, I knew about as much about that as the dog did.
Were you looking the other way?
I can't see through wooden doors. Neither could the dog.
Actually a dog could see through a wooden door quite easily if there was a window in it.
A door with a window in it? Such fanciful talk. Who would so such a thing to a perfectly good door?
Someone who doesn't hate dogs.
Well, you know what they say. When dog closes a door he opens a window.
BOOM.
PAYOFF.
You kicked a dog Shindig?
Also comes as a surprise to me. Might have to edit my WDYTOE list.
No, I kicked a door a dog was behind. Caught the dog in the process.
Kicked it to death in a Geordie rage I heard.
He’s been dead for years. The door was not a factor.