Where am I?

Aaaaaaaaaaah. Fuck.

I am 27 fucking years old. Where am I? How do you even answer that question? Sitting in my bedroom - which is technically a living room - in my mum's house. No, that's not the kind of 'where' we're talking about. So, where am I? Let's retrace our steps, shall we?

I just had a breakdown. Well, about 6 weeks ago, I had a breakdown. A crisis? A stupid life ruining fucking garbage pile? I don't know. I've been prescribed quetiapine for somewhere around 2 years, and I came off of it. It was giving me really stressful dreams, like, every fucking night. I would wake up in a state of anxiety and dread. Pretty reasonable to try to find out what was causing it - and coming off the quetiapine seemed to work. I was only on 25mg. You wouldn't think that would make much of a difference, right? And honestly, it probably wouldn't. Not alone, at least. The past year has been rough. The past decade has been rougher. I have chronic fatigue syndrome, likely a result of having bacterial meningitis as a child, obsessive compulsive disorder, likely a result of having bacterial meningitis as a child, and autistic spectrum disorder. That one came free.

So, I've been a little stressed I guess. Anyway, to make a long story short, this breakdown/crisis/garbage pile, it was bad. Several thought streams overlapping each other constantly makes it pretty hard to decipher what the intrusive thoughts are, and even harder to find your 'wise mind' as it's referred to in Overcoming Unwanted Intrusive Thoughts. God, OCD is such a bitch. I didn't realise what was going on, and as a painfully self aware person, this caused some real issues. And it's safe to say I'm pretty pissed off about it. I was experiencing severe dissociative symptoms - largely depersonalisation. That's what happens during a surge of intrusive thoughts. You don't know where you are. You don't know what you think, what you want, what you're capable of. You think you've lost control. This is the trick, OCD's master plan. IF you believe this, that you have, or are going to, lose control, OCD is winning. The only thing you really ever have control over, is you. OCD can't take that away from you. Don't believe it. I did. And it fucked me. I don't really want to get into the nitty gritty of it, as anyone with OCD knows, that's pretty hard to open up about. But, let's get the key points in place:

• Ended a 7 year relationship (a good one)

• Flew to America (planned and executed in 5 days)

• Ended multiple online friendships (this one wasn't my choice, but a result of my actions nonetheless)

So. Again. Where am I?

On my bed. In my bed/living room. At my mum's house. Tired. Sad. Alone. Not entirely alone, it's not like I have no one. My mum and my brother are in the kitchen right now. My sister's kid lives here with us too. I have a really good friend who has been there for me a lot throughout this, even though I've not always been there for her. And this whole situation led me to rekindle a friendship I let fall through the cracks, and she's great too. I also still have some of my online friends, and they mean the world to me. I know where I am. I know how I got here. I hate it. But it is what it is, right? It's been a long time since I hit a new low, but this was definitely that. And the truth is, as Ram Dass put it, 'there is nowhere to go'. What the fuck does that mean? It means, the only place to go is in. You are your safest home. The love of my life might not be able to forgive me, or be here for me as much as I would like, people I considered my closest friends, like family, might not be able to forgive me, or understand me and my OCD head and dissociated actions - but I can forgive me. And, that doesn't feel all too comforting, to be honest. You think it would, when you read about self compassion and giving yourself grace and all that wellness crap. It sounds like freedom. Honestly though, it has just left me feeling really, really, lonely. Because what if I'm the only person whose ever able to understand myself, enough, to give that kind of grace? And that's why I think 'alone' feels like an apt answer to this question. Where am I? Don't worry, Ram Dass, I'm here now. But I'm here now, alone.