The Boring repetition of Illness

It is obviously difficult for people to understand how others see the world. I recall talking to Philip Hussey about reality. At the time he believed it to be a fixed thing that we all could see to varying degrees of accuracy. At the time, due to bouts of mental illness and experiences with drugs, I advanced the idea that reality was what we perceive. I was wrong. It is disconcerting thinking back to last year when, as an example I could hear people discussing me. As I couldn't see them it was obvious they were beneath the pavements surface. On closer inspection I could hear them more clearly as I passed by manhole covers. Why people had chosen to group together, hide underneath service inspection shaft covers I didn't ask. At the time, for me, this was real.

As I recover the temptation is to grasp any evidence of normality and seize it. Because I can hold a conversation people assume  am well. If I am happy they think the same. This can happen despite being ill. I can be contentedly delusional at times. Perhaps we all are. Most days I can construct a reasonably coherent world view. From these apparently normal interactions people mistake intelligence for truth. My illness has meant I have been subject to delusions. Once I realise a mistaken reading of reality I become very unsettled. Upset emotionally even.

As I make the early steps out in to the world friends assume I must be recovering from reactive depression; to pat me on the back, tell me the worst is past. The belief I must have hit bottom and be on a steady upward slope has fooled me several times. It will be a while.

It will be a while. I must be patient. I know I have been and am still a pain in the arse. I miss appointments. I can't be relied on. The slope is generally upward but has ruts, dips and even holes to negotiate.

Yet, like going to A and E with a broken toe I was made aware just how well I am recently. In a way mental illness can be contagious as you tend to follow other peoples reasoning out of courtesy. On chatting to another patient I followed his distrust of the doctors only so far as recognising them to be replicants.