Decisions, decisions.

I couldn't write my blog yesterday - there was so much going on in my head that I didn't know where to start. So I did nothing.

Things feel very crossroads-y at the moment.
I feel like I could lose it altogether, and God knows how or where we would all end up. Or I could get a grip.
It's a really funny feeling, almost like having a choice, but not quite. It isn't that I can choose to be mad or not, more like I can choose to stop trying.
I wonder if that's how a personality disorder differs from a mental illness, such as schizophrenia or bipolar?
At some level, I have more control.
Certainly not when I'm in the middle of an episode - that is completely out of my control. Each time it has happened I say 'Never again,' and firmly believe it won't happen again, but it always does.
But now, when things are a bit calmer, it feels more like I could have some kind of influence.
Giving up is certainly the easier option. To not think, and worry, and tear myself apart over what I've done and what I'm going to do would be bliss. To not consider the consequences would be such a relief.
And twenty years ago, ten years ago even, that is the route I took. I didn't consider the consequences. It didn't worry me that some time later down the line I would have to pick it all up again if I ever wanted to have any life at all.
This time the consequences are much more of a deterrent to giving up. Getting a grip now, rather than in four or five years time, would make things so much easier for me, and the kids.
I just don't know if I can do it.
Trying and failing feels a bit like a double or nothing bet, and I never was much of a gambler. But I don't want to turn 40 and still be this miserable, so that only gives me a year to sort myself out.
I don't know what to do, or how to do it.
I don't know if I really do have that choice.
I don't know .