Pay no attention to the howling, I'll be OK

I'm not OK.

I've been feeling OK-ish.  And have told myself that if I say and do the right things then I will become OK, almost by default.

But I'm not OK.

Last night I sat on my sofa, in the dark. Feeling less than 100%. Exhausted. Nauseous. Anxious.

I know what tiredness does to me. I already find weekends hard. The routines of the working week keep me grounded. Give me a framework. A sense of identity. At home, at the weekends, I often feel surrounded by my shortcomings.

As I sat there in the dark I began to hear strange noises. A low mournful howling. The kind a distressed sleeper might make. Or a wounded animal.

But there were no distressed sleepers nor wounded animals.

And no, it wasn't me either - this isn't one of those 'big reveals' dripping in bathos.... "when suddenly I realised the howling was coming from me, for I am that distressed sleeper, that wounded animal."

Nah. Nothing so melodramatic. Not this time, anyway!

In truth I don't know what it was and after a quick check round the house I couldn't find any obvious explanation.

But whatever it was spooked me good and proper.

Am I hearing noises now?

I've almost got used to seeing things. Well, ok that is melodramatic. But since I starting taking medication a few months ago there have been lots of unpleasant visual disturbances that fall loosely under the heading of side-effects.

I could do without hearing things though. I frequently joke about the voices in my head - I've been chastised for using humour to deflect how I'm feeling.

Voices... that's one thing. I really don't need to start hearing imaginary howling. Good lord, where will that lead?

Not sleeping can put me in a very grey-black place. Getting out of it isn't always easy.

I'm not OK.

And that reminds me there is still a lot of work to be done, choices to be made, effort to be put in.

In way though, that's OK.