By Published on

Tuesday 30th September - When the Darkness Visits

A small green goblin-like creature with pointed ears and blue spiky hair crouches in an abandoned, dilapidated room. Sunlight streams through a dirty window, and a single bare lightbulb hangs from the ceiling, casting shadows in the grey, decaying space scattered with debris. The creature represents an Ellyllon - a mischievous sprite from Welsh folklore.
@theaardvark

When the Darkness Visits: A Note from the Depths

Content note: This post discusses mental health struggles, isolation, and exhaustion. I'm safe, but I'm not okay right now – and that's what I need to talk about.

Here's where I'm at today

I've fallen through rock bottom's trapdoor (yup, there are a few of the little buggers scattered about) and I'm visiting my darkest days and nights. This isn't just "having a bad day." This feels different, heavier, darker.

Before you worry or call anyone: I'm not in crisis. I'm not having suicidal thoughts, I'm not self-harming, and I'm not thinking of hurting anyone else. But I am struggling, properly struggling, and I think it's important to talk about what that actually looks like.

The weight of it all

My Ellyllons are weighing heavy in all aspects of my life right now. I think since COVID – the isolation, the loneliness, the feeling utterly alone – it almost broke me. I don't think I've 100% recovered yet.

I've never had COVID that bad before. Terrible nightmares. Lost days. But I found the lucid hours most difficult, where I felt so very alone I'd cry myself back to sleep. These dark visitors always seem to come at night, in the darkness and silence.

Today feels like the darkest of darkest days. Maybe because I've chosen this. I've chosen to be alone. My head is empty (only a headache and deafening tinnitus) and my heart feels heavy. I've no appetite or energy. I just want to be alone.

What I'm NOT doing

I'm not having that constant battle with myself pretending everything is AOK. I'm not pushing myself to do stuff that needs doing, then crashing with PEM whilst hiding my pain from everyone else. I don't want to bicker. I don't want to be social. I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings.

IMPORTANTLY: This is in no way a reflection on my family, who I absolutely adore. I hope they understand.

What I AM doing

The most gentle, practical thing – the ONLY thing I felt I could do today – is shut myself away. To isolate myself from the world beyond my bedroom door and rest.

I'm exhausted. And when I say exhausted, I just can't describe how it feels.

I'm hoping by gifting myself alone time and rest, things will start to change. Maybe these are my darkest days – the lowest point I can reach before I can restart, recover again, breathe again.

What I'm holding onto

I truly believe, and repeatedly remind myself, that times like these are only temporary and a sign that positive changes could be coming, however small they are (and they will be celebrated).

Maybe these dark times have to do their very worst before my energy returns and I start to get better. Whatever my 'new better' looks or feels like.

My gentle reminders to myself (and maybe to you too)

  • Go day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute
  • Be gentle with what my head and heart are telling me
  • Be kinder to myself
  • Find peace
  • Rest
  • Stop overthinking
  • Be kind to myself and others
  • Sleep
  • Everything is still going to be there when I've the strength and courage to open the door

A note on staying connected

I was hoping to write and use voice notes, but my phone's terrible and my laptop is on its way out. Nearly went out the window through sheer frustration today.

But I'm sure I'll be checking in.

If you're in a dark place too, know you're not alone. Sometimes the bravest thing we can do is rest.

Love,

Sha x