Let’s be honest, moving home was never going to be some miraculous cure, some magic spell that cures me off my demons. I’d hoped however that it would improve my support system, improve my feelings off isolation and provide me with a sense of belonging. It hasn’t worked. Today I cried uncontrollably. I’m not coping, nor am I getting any respite or independence.
Today I wanted to retreat to the garage, and end it once and for all. My little stash of propranolol was crying out to be consumed. I even rang my new CPN, but she wasn’t available and by the time she returned my call, I couldn’t talk. I have no space here to express my emotions, no space to talk confidentially, no frigging space to ease my distress with self harm. To top it all off, I’m really missing C. I wanted to phone C, I want to see C, I need C. This new CMHT are not as good.
I hate it here today.
This one’s a little personal…
OH has always affectionately described me as “all hands”, me having the greatest our sex drives. This past year however I’ve lost my mojo, and we’ve lost our ability to connect.
Here’s the thing about depression. It robs you!! It robs you of your confidence and your energy. It robs you of your libido and your lust. It robs you off your desires and it damages your relationships.
Last night OH and I slept in my teenage bedroom. Pictures of us in our early days, full of hope and love hung selotaped to my bedroom door. Mum and Dad slept below us, mums snoring penetrating the floor boards. The old wooden bed creaked under every subtle movement, as it always did.
All off a sudden a little magic took over. We where young again, feeling the lust and excitment that embodied those two younger selves on my door. We were michevious and a little thrilled, trying desparatly not to be heard. We where in love again!!!
To be so close and intimate reminded us both of what we had, and what we must work to have again. Sex has the ability to cast off the shackles of depression. It has the ability to flood our bodies with amazing senses and our minds with an overwhelming sense of wellness.
Trust me everything, have more sex!!! There is just a little more spring in my step today 🙂
I’m exhausted, physically exhausted. It’s inexplicable really, or maybe it’s just a come down now that we are officially home.
In truth it doesn’t feel much like home to me. It feels claustrophobic, feels like I’m being scrutinised and just overall feels a little uncomfortable. OH’s family are lovely but I need my own space. I’ve not yet secured employment so for now we’re stuck.
I’m getting frustrated at my lack off alone time. I need to burn but I can’t get any space to do it. There’s always someone around, and it’s causing me to feel more tense.
I’m also sporting a marvellous blubbery rubbery mess around my midsection that Michelin or Bridgestone would be proud off. I wonder if I dug out some grooves for grip, would it be more efficient now to tip me on my side and just roll me to my destinations!
Thanks for that little question sis. I couldn’t believe it as those words poured from her lips. She’s knows I’m on a list of meds as long as my arm and hence would not be getting pregnant. She knows that I’m self conscious about my weight. Surely she knows better…
Well at least those words have confirmed what I already know; I’m a fat ugly mess!!!
I want to burn deep tonight. I want to swallow sleeping pills, not to die, but to dull my racing thoughts and self hatred.
I want to hit the gym!
I can’t stop crying…
Today we emptied our house and shipped all our stuff home before we follow on Thursday.
Right now I can’t stop crying. I’m crying because I’m still depressed. I’m crying because I’m having really strong suicidal urges and I’m crying because it doesn’t matter where we move to… my head will follow us.
I feel absolutely hopeless.
Today I had my last appointment with my current CPN. C has been absolutely fantastic this past few months and I’m very sad to be losing her.
She has organised my transfer of care and given me copies of all the necessary paperwork. I actually have an appointment with my new CMHT next Monday. God I hope they’re as good as my current one.
I really wish I could take C with me.
We’re in the throws of the terrible two’s. Little man has my temper, coupled with OH’s stubberness. This makes for an explosive cocktail!
We’ve been good so far on the united parenting front. When we say no, we mean no!!! Little man is certainly testing the boundaries; throwing himself on the floor, squealing and shrieking like something possessed and ultimately testing my patience to it’s limits.
We’ve been good though, no raised voices or shouting. We just calmly stand our grand, which is a huge departure from how I was raised. A quick slap was the tool of choice during my upbringing. Not excessively by any means but used nonetheless.
Psychology has helped myself and OH to map out our own path on the family front, not conforming to our own parents ideals. Its not as easy as it sounds.