This week, god has made the decision to hand me a pair of grey tinted glasses to try on. I have taken these glasses, adjusted the fit and seen through the lens what an absolute fucking shambles my life is when it is viewed from a different perspective altogether.
Last week I was skipping about, happy as Larry. Sociable Megan. Invincible Megan. Going through a hard year but still, let’s just take it as it comes Megan.
Thats what mental illness is, isn’t it? It’s a pair of grey tinted glasses.
I have endured, the past few days, life as I have been flipped upside down and I am standing on my head. I feel unsettled. Uncomfortable. Everything is tilted and backwards. What was the capable has now become the escapable. My home is now a prison, not a place I can hide in for comfort. I feel trapped in a room that’s physically too big for me – now that’s a surreal feeling. Replying to a text message now too colossal a task. I want to be away from people, from the world but I am too on edge and anxious to be alone.
I know this will pass. It always does. It will be forgotten, and I will be swept up in the world of colours again. But tonight, I cannot stand to lie here in my own skin, in the silence of this house, stopped in time.
My life is fine, the people around me are fine. My soul however, is not.