Good afternoon, you lovely thing. Sorry this post wasn’t written earlier; it’s been a bit of an odd day.
One of the biggest side effects of my mental health condition is feeling disconnected from reality. I could be sitting in the middle of a pub with a large group of friends, talking, laughing and (not naming any names) burping, and still feel as though I am sitting in a bubble that prevents me from engaging with my surroundings. This is, as I’m sure you can appreciate, a horrendously irritating state of affairs.
That’s not to say that I am alone in feeling this way. Whether or not you suffer from a mental health disorder, we all have times when we feel cut off from the best and most fun things in our lives. This might be because of stress, tiredness or even just having a short attention span, but the biggest challenge that all of us face at times like these is not to accept the disrupted connection. We have to renew our efforts and keep trying to break through the bubble. There are people on the other side of it who want to connect with us.
When I am feeling (for want of a more technical word) “bubbled”, it is as though I am sitting in the bottom of a pit and the people I love are standing around the edge of it, leaning down to me waving various potential remedies. Sometimes it’s my lovely house mate Ash, who will be holding diet coke and offering me a hug; at other times it’s my uni lads, who usually come bearing cider and silly voices. A lot of the time it’s my theatre company team Harry and Jules, who wave production meeting notes and coffee at me in an attempt to lure me out of the pit. As you can see, beverages are a big factor in my recovery from feeling “bubbled”, but I’m not sure why…
There is a line that connects you individually to all of the people who love you, and that connection doesn’t go away, even when you feel completely isolated from them. They hold onto the line very tightly when they need you, and they want you to hold on just as tightly when you’ve fallen into your pit. If you have the courage and the humility to say “help me” when you’re totally lost, they will combine their efforts to support you and get you the heck out of the pit. They don’t want you to be stuck in there, because when it’s their turn to fall down in one, they’ll need you. Also (in my case at least) it’s just not practical for you to live in a hole in the ground. How can anyone run a theatre company from down there?
Sorry about the mixed metaphors and similes; whatever you’re up to today, I hope that you feel neither bubbled nor pitted. If you are, then let your loved ones haul you out. They are quite right to want you around.