It was lovely to see an old and caring friend, though I did feel a little embarrassed when I broke down in tears. This is probably cause in the past I would be the one who gave comfort when she was upset.
It seems slowly that this blog is becoming 3 things, a record of my recovery from 2 breakdowns, encouragement to complete my photographic challenge and a a place for me to put down and let go of some of the thoughts and fears that frequent my mind.
Despite what might be surmised through reading previous entries in my blog I am trying hard to feel positive, but so much knocks me back. These knocks take many forms mainly they are my own thoughts, but some come in the form of other people, either those I know or those I don't. The people I don't are those who shout abuse at me in the street, or voice opinions on the radio. Those I know hurt me in little ways.
So often I feel on the edge desperately trying to get in. I'm the one who people forget to invite, simply overlooked. I am the one people turn to when they need something, the nice one, the reliable one, the so so so lonely one.
The one who all too often cries herself to sleep, so scared, hating the feelings of loneliness that fill me, capable of feeling lonely even when surrounded by people I think I know.
Edvard Munch's painting The Scream is thought as an analogue for depression, the screamer is screaming but not heard but those nearby, a scream in the head. A scream for peace for normality a scream for help that like so many go unheard or ignored. Munch said of the painting "for several years I was almost mad… You know my picture, 'The Scream?' I was stretched to the limit—nature was screaming in my blood… After that I gave up hope ever of being able to love again." I truly know and echo how he felt
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