An honest ramble.
If you get ill in the psyche, things go toxic, poisonous, like mental pus. It happened to me. I've been a proper nutter. The reasons for it are far to long winded to go into in this ramble. I'll save that for other rambles.
Anyway, I became psychologicly ugly. Fucking Horrid. I hated myself entirely. I wanted to die. Literally. Actually wanted to die. I had no help with my mind. No genuine empathy around me. Just anger and opposition. No one understood I was very very ill. I became utterly toxic. I am horrified and full of regrets at any of my toxic behaviours. But it happened. I was poisoned.
People do become toxic. It is an unfortunate ugly, dark, grim part of the Human condition. The shadow side. However, that does not mean every toxic poisoned person is evil or full of mallice and are always bad people forever more. I am not a bad person. One hundred percent I try to be a good person. I fail here and there but my intentions are never bad. Some mentaly ill people do bad things if they can not access the right treatments in time to prevent bad, toxic, horrid behaviours. Chances are most of those toxic people who can not access help when they need it are good souls but without the help and support they need to not become toxic before shitty behaviours manifest.
Sometimes people are severely mentaly ill and have become infected with mental toxins and need the poison lanced from their minds, so to speak. Or toxins of the soul or spirit if you will. It all needs extracting and disinfecting. Treating. Making pure again. Clean. I needed that desperately, but had to wait for the expertise and empathic support far too long until it was to late and I lost almost everthing I cherished dear to my heart and soul due to my toxic illness and a lack of understanding and empathy around me. I was let down badly.
The dishonest, scheming, ill-informed liars and haters with their sharpened daggers of spite around me only perpetuated my illness and my pain beyond words of description. I was well and truly fucked over, kniffed in the back, whilst I was pretty much insanely ill. No one deserves that kind of pain despite my horrid shitty behaviours. I had no insight into my behaviours at the time and there inlays the difference. Not an excuse but it is very telling.
Had I been sectioned and hospitallised or at least psychologicaly treated all that time back before, as I was pleading and begging for, my life would be very different to how it is right now and I might not be carrying around this heavy weight of grief and loss all the time.
Those who want to heal and change and get back to a better peaceful happy place will ackowledge their own toxic traits and begin the painful process of change and growth.
I for one hold my hands up and admit and own my part in being an asshole. A toxic mess lost in mental illness and pain. But I do it with integrity and determination to get back on track even more than I have so far, learn more, grow more and not repeat those nasty destructive angry raging patterns ever again. It was never a choice to be ill or horrible to my loved ones and feel hoplessly lost. Non of it was by design.
I am making the choice to negate the chance of any of it happening again, though. Ever. Fuck that. I choose happiness. Not anger.
I've alot of stuff to get done. Watch this space.
Completely unproof read so enjoy the mistakes and rambling dissconnects. 🎈