Constant state of flux

I whittle away my days, with grand ambitions, big ideas, and more determination than most people I know. There is no doubt, that Francesca Barker working at 110% and focused is a force to be reckoned with; that aspect of me is the person who won business awards, who built something from nothing and had something to be proud of.

The other aspect of me is the fruit loop, the worrier, the needy "help me, save me, I can't do this,".

How do those two aspects of one person co-exist?

It is a constant battle in my head and in my life. I am SO capable. I always have been. Such potential, and always thwarted by own mind, my bad choices, my dark places.

It's such a chore to juggle these two minds in one body.

Now, Fran Barker, Barker Baker, geeky politics girl, avid write, poet, lover of all things jazz and beauty, well shes a formidable, capable, driven, ambitious, passionate person.

With qualifications and a CV to be proud of, she walks into room and people listen.

She gets up in the morning, early, excited.

Breakfast. Showered. Dressed to impress, with a dam good effort at a pretty face and snazzy hair - and if all else fails, crack out the good handbag.

This person is a person of love, empathy, understanding, sorrow at the sadness in the world and fire to change it. The person who would give their last penny to someone who needed it more, and then find a way to multiply it, It's not quite Jesus and his fishes, but its the same concept at heart.

This person built a business on a shoestring. Worked a full time job and worked weekends on market stalls and managed to survive; dare I say it, thrive.

People took notice, people felt proud. 

I felt proud. For a while.

And lo' demons awake, and the paranoia, the fear, the pressure, consumes the good and brings out the bad.

I can't do this on my own.

It's not enough.

I'm not enough.

I can do more.

I want more.

People are watching, waiting, wanting more.

Prove yourself Fran,

I broke my first rule. Fuck what other people think.

I had it nailed for a while, at the heart of my progress was me, just me.

And it morphed and twisted into a toxic mental health breakdown that engulfed my entire existence.

Self employment was supposed to be liberating. An escape from constant criminal disclosures on job applications, explanations and fear of judgement.

How can I win? How can I be better?

I work for myself - I crash.

I can't function.

Who saves me now?

I go days without showering, barely leaving my bed, whilst my beautiful Sarah gets up and goes to work, brilliant as ever.

She comes home, the house is a mess, I haven't cooked dinner, she never complains. She looks at me with worry, with sadness, she can see I've got lost again and she is trying to find me. Reach me, and bring me back.

The fridge is empty, I did the Asda shop two weeks ago, but I still haven't reclicked the delivery slot. It would take 2 minutes, less. But somehow I don't care. But I'll still have irrational anger towards an empty cupboard.

Then I'll switch back, epic clean mode.

The house is blitzed. Show home standard. Bleach fills the air, nostrils burning. I could do with a bit too.

Showered. Shaved. The bath looks like the yeti had a bad day. Clean hair, smells of coconuts.

Sarah lies with me in bed, nose planted in my scalp, she breaths in, coconuts. It's the shampoo I used when we first met.

Is that nostalgically lovely or desperately sad?

I'm not sure the emotionally unstable personality disorder with a criminal conviction and ex drug habit is what she signed up for.

A shinning star of ambition and intelligence, she goes away this weekend, for the opportunity of a life time.

I cried when she told me, not sad or fearsome she may realise what life should actually be like instead of what it is, I cried with pride.

Shes quite incredible and she deserves more than 50% of me.

We both suffer the frustration of knowing how incredible I can be.

I didn't want to be here at 30.

I wanted to be.. me?

Settled, secure, stable, financially sound, own my own home with the love of my life, have a child.

Tomorrow I'll wake up and I'll strive for all of those things and set them as my goals and I will steam full speed ahead to get them.

Saturday may come and I'll wonder why.

It's a constant state of flux and its exhausting.

I love my business, I love my life. I do.

I am just not doing a very good job of living it.

I feel like hurdles pop up when I think I've jumped them all and it fills me with resentment, frustration, anger.

Will it ever be easy or is this the price I pay for the choices I have made?

I know, in my heart and soul, I will be everything I can be, everything I dreamt I could be.

I just don't know how to maintain the constant where I can do that all of the time, and not some of the time.

Running a business, managing debt, maintaining mental health.

No sleep. Shitty diet. Sporadic meds. No exercise.

It's all a recipe for disaster.

I am a creature of habit, and routine is my only salvation.

I create timetables, like school.

From waking up to going to sleep. Hour by hour.

I tick off my little lists of things I've done. Achieved. Eaten.

But heaven forbid I don't stick to my timetable, it envokes a feeling of failure, disappointment.

And round and round we go.

Living with a mental health issue like emotionally unstable personality disorder means I live my life according to my distorted perceptions of the world around me, Consumed by fear of other peoples opinions of me, paranoid of what people say and think. Which leaves the compulsive lying little girl in me to pop up and counter that with a wonderful story which leaves no room for criticism.

Lets say it as it is.

I am Fran.

I am rebuilding my business, bit by bit, loaf by loaf, and I don't know if I'm making the right choice because this business almost ruined me and I it once before.

It's lulled me into a false sense of security because actually, things are better than they ever have been and it feels like life could be...easier?

But I'm waiting..... what's next?