I have no idea where the months go to. As Autumn approaches I feel what I can only describe as slight bewilderment as to how I got here already. It will be that infamous midwinter Christian festival before I know it. God give me strength.

Something I failed to mention previously on here is that I had my driving license revoked on health grounds. That was the end of April and I am still fighting to prove my capability to drive now in September. Despite numerous assurances from my former psychiatrist, I am still minus license.

And yes, I wrote that right, my former psychiatrist. Not because he left or retired, but because he discharged me back into the care of my GP. It was an amazing moment, let me tell you. And the irony is not lost on me that my mental health is the most stable it’s been in nearly five years, yet this is the time that somebody, in their wisdom has decided I’m unfit to drive. You couldn’t make this stuff up.

Coinciding with my discharge from the mental health team, because Sod’s Law seems so often to go that way, my much loved and respected GP of the last 15 or so years retired. And unfortunately the practice didn’t seem to handle finding his replacement terribly well. Finally I know who my new doctor is, and she seems nice enough, but there was a prolonged period of uncertainty I could have done without.

During the summer I took a course at Mind called The Decider which looked at handling difficult emotions. I recommend. The content was similar to ECS but it was presented in a fun, quirky and lighthearted way.

At the end of the course I was fully expecting to be discharged from Mind; that had been on the cards for a long time, before I’d started The Decider, and I was fairly confident that having completed that I would almost certainly be out on my ear. Imagine my surprise then when the lovely Liz, my support worker said she absolutely wouldn’t be discharging me yet given I’d just lost the support of the mental health team and my trusted GP. She did say they probably wouldn’t be able to offer me a lot of input, but I could always email her or phone in if I needed support. That meant a lot to me.

Two years ago Mind ran creative writing sessions, co-facilitated by a local poet, in conjunction with The Winchester Poetry Festival. The poet runs various initiatives locally and I subscribe to his emails. It was via said email that I discovered he was coming back to Mind this year to run poetry sessions again. I immediately emailed Liz to ask if my name could be put forward, and within a few days I had a call inviting me to attend the course. So exciting!

First session was last week and it was so much fun. I’m not much of a poet, but working in a group alongside a published author is massively inspirational. I remember two years ago feeling exactly the same. Suddenly my head is bubbling with words, scrambling over each other in an effort to become a part of something bigger. Something beautiful. Something poetic.

And I did get to thinking. Two years ago I had not long ago been sexually assaulted. I was feeling incredibly angry at life. In the writing group I had been crowned Queen of the F-Bomb, such was my overuse of the word. It just summed up my attitude to life at that point. Despite having been discharged by the CMHT I still experience depression to a more or lesser degree, much of the time. My anxiety has been worse in the past months than for decades. I’m far from out of the woods, but I’m doing ok. I’m reasonably stable most of the time. My fear is, that my creativity tends to awaken in my most extremes of mood. I have no idea if I can pen poetry in stability. I guess I’ll see.

And as I don’t feel like a blog is complete unless I make reference to my love life, here goes. I launched myself into the online dating scene with a vengeance. Again. Three guys who said they wanted to be with me either stood me up or just disappeared. All in recent months. It’s safe to say I’m getting a complex! Currently I am chatting online with a gentleman who claims to be serving in the navy and based in Portsmouth. He’s apparently at sea at the moment. Or he could possibly be a scammer in a Nigerian internet cafe. I’ve pretty much given up trusting my judgement. My judgement sucks! Time will tell.

Well until I write that award winning poem, that’s probably enough from me for now. Take care all and thanks for reading.

👼🏻