Time seems to go so quickly. I can't believe it is July.
I berate myself for lack of achievement, and feel I have done little with the time I've been given. I'm not in the best place at the moment, so the guilt is immense, and I beat myself up over it constantly, feeding the cycle and making me feel even worse.
I love my brain.
It always reminds me of this excellent post - I often feel like I have my own little Egbert (or maybe Englebert, a cousin twice-removed?) working away diligently, turning my thoughts to venom. Little shit.
Realistically, I have only myself to blame - I will quite happily advise others of the importance of diet, exercise, sleep and making time for the good things in life, whilst neglecting all of these things myself and then wondering why I feel so awful. I feel different, too. Very irritable, panicky, nervous of everything, snappy, agitated. I'm holding it together, but I can feel the pressure building and the cracks have started appearing, the seams are coming apart, it's only a matter of time.
The motivation to make changes, to tackle it head on, seems to have completely deserted me. I tell myself over and over that I should be proud of myself, that I can do whatever I put my mind to, but it feels so false. I tell myself that the ideas about people hating me, being out to get me, the things I think I should feel so guilty about, those are the false ideas, but they are the ones that see, so real.
I have done things I should be proud of - I had a promotion at work at the beginning of the year, I've been at this place for 19 months and not had time off for mental health problems, I've been off medication for about 17 months. I've had bad periods and I've weathered it and made it through relatively unscathed.
But this feels different, and it scares me.