Yesterday Ashley Peterson, the mental health blogger I follow and who used to comment a lot on my posts during the beginning of my ‘blogging career’ posted that she may be going to the hospital. She didn’t elaborate on this. It is my understanding, obviously, it is due to her depression getting really bad and I feel so overwhelmed by this idea: why someone who is fairly successful and doesn’t have any major problems suddenly develops depression and can’t get out of it? Ashley is an ex mental health nurse so she knows about all the available treatments and she should have an idea of what is likely to help.

And yet, nothing works for her.

At least with my dad I found an explanation: undiagnosed autism and working as a welder so loads of exposure to flashing lights. I mean, I only got this understanding when I was 37. Before it was always: why, why, why?

I wish I was able to help Ashley. I almost want to go there and take care of her. Do I need visa to Canada? I could visit her every day for 10 minutes and bring her cakes.

But I’m worried a little bit that we may not get on easily. It seems to me that I don’t fit very well into the world of people who live with mental illness. I wonder whether that is because I recovered, at least to a point where I can work.

I guess if John broke up with me when I was going through my first psychotic episode the recovery would be much more difficult. Or, if I went to Prague instead of going home and was arrested because of erratic behaviour, it would probably be impossible at all. So I guess I was lucky. But very often I don’t feel like the lucky one as I’m focused on what I’d like but don’t have.

My dental appointment is in two hours and ideally I’d like to cancel it. I will also need to go out to get some milk but what I want the most now is to be able to stay in bed forever. But who is going to take care of me if that happens? Mum is not here any more and never will be. It’s just me, alone forever.