So the other night I fell out of bed. I was lying with a tension like rigor mortis at 3am and staring into the darkness stressing out about being frank with someone in an email about a rotten boss I’d once had. I was stressing out because I have a conscience and it didn’t seem really fair to describe someone badly. It’s not my bag but I had vented and I couldn’t retract it. In fact, I do 100% believe in what I had said, but I was struggling with the fact that I had. What if there’s a confrontation? What if I’m a bad person? What if I get sued? What if it’s not true? What if it’s me? The list went on and on. Actually- it had woken me up. I was a little bit hot, nothing like the sweat drenched pool that I used to create before I started using a medical drug to support my feelings. My mind felt wooly and I couldn’t breathe right.
Then it started to happen it was almost as if a blob was pushing me off the bed. I started gripping the sheet with my hands. I tried to stay put, but it felt like I was being forced out of the bed. My space was being withdrawn. I turned to take up less room from the onslaught of this thing pushing me out. And then, I realised that I couldn’t beat it. It was pushing me out over the edge and into the darkness. The only problem was that there was nothing below the bed. No floor. No carpet. No light. Pitch black. A hole. No stars, no air, no water, no sensation of falling- like a massive pot of molasses. Without there being any molasses. Tar without the tar.
I used my phone to read stuff off comedy and satirical websites. I trawled twitter and Facebook. I desperately looked around me for distraction but the inevitable was going to happen and it did.
I spent 5 days in this weird no man’s land- a sort of limbo. I stood in the supermarket wondering how they made strawberry sauce. I couldn’t find lemon juice. It wasn’t with the juices, or the fruits. My brain seemed to be made from cotton wool- between my ears there was nothing. I couldn’t retain anything. I couldn’t feel anything in there. From my neck down, I lacked feel and I lacked physicality. I lay down a lot. I had to write lists to remember what to do. This is essential because I run my own business and each week there are around 150-200 people banking on me to do my job. And to do it well. Oof.
My state comes along about three times a year. It’s because of a childhood trauma to do with bereavement. I have trouble with getting my cognitive ability engaged to work through the same frustrating situation every time- to pull myself out of it and get on. Most of the time it is a problem with something and I get a bit ‘carried away’ and reset pretty fast. Well, this time I tried something different. I went with it. I went free falling.
My world didn’t collapse. No one that matters left me. No one left me. Those people that didn’t need to know didn’t. I kept working but slowly and sometimes without clear direction. I winged it a bit. I needed to stop during random periods of the week. And just sit and stare. I needed to empty myself instead of fighting it all the time- which is exhausting and frustrating and, let’s face it, impossible. I disengaged with TV and only allowed myself music. I took a personal break. But instead of flying off to other climes I stayed put. And it paid off. I didn’t overeat, or drink or smoke or buy stuff. I just existed. And that thick black stuff I was in- it dripped off eventually. A mate told me that everything would pass. Sure enough, this did too. I would urge anyone that wakes up stuck like I was with no direction and full of regret to fall with it and breathe deeply, surround themselves with the loving things and over time, like me, you might suddenly find it all washing away.
The funny thing is though; I feel guilty for having done it. For wasting my time and everyone else’s. But guess what? No one really struggled. The world turned and they all carried on. And I hopped back on and found that the changes that had happened while I was away weren’t dramatic or life changing. They were just things. I bet I’ll wake up tonight worrying about how much I worried.