Today I had a follow up call with the lovely lady from social services. She informed me that my CMHT are planning to discharge me from their care. It’s frigging laughable. I’m not much further on, they’ve done nothing to help me and now I’m just being dumped!! The CMHT haven’t told me this yet, but I guess it’s coming.
This little nugget of information was concerning enough to the lady from SS, that she is recommending a transfer to SS care. She is recommending that we have more input and family support. I guess she fears for little man. I do too.
As for the CMHT, fine, absolutely fine, FUCK OFF!!! I’m done with you anyway!!
I’ve been struggling. In truth I’m stressed with work,and when I’m stressed, I quickly lose my ability to cope.
OH is working a long day, so it’s just been me and little man. I found it hard to cope. I shoved my eyepad before his eye as much as I could. I avoided him, I grew frustrated with him, and in turn he grew whiney, and clingy.
Its not his fault, it’s mine. So this evening I’ve given in to temptation, I’ve done what I needed to do, to get me through today.
I could only see him over whatsapp. Bloody corona virus!!! I’ve felt sad all day, but I’m not sure what it truly stems from.
Is it that I’m missing little man today, or is it that saying goodbye on WhatsApp brought me some refeif. He kissed the phone and smiled at me, but he was also rather distracted by the telly. I was not top off his interests.
I look at him and I can see he’s cute and funny and full of prospects, but he just doesn’t feel like my boy. It’s like looking at someone else’s child. I feel cold towards him, resentful and angry that I’m not doing better. I’m no good for him. He deserves so much more.
I need to run, I need to run, I NEED TO RUN!!! I’m a ball of nervous tension. I’m going stir crazy. I need to run!!!
Our little yard is the size of a frigging matchbox.. I can’t sprint there. We have a ball, but the walls are more glass than brick. I’m desperate to kick it HARD!!! What is it we me and football’s in hospital??
I sneaked in a little burn earlier, but it didn’t work. The waters not hot enough, and they’ve sequestered my straighteners so no joy there.
I’d just told N on the phone the other day; “I’m just getting used to you” N is my current CPN/care co-ordinator and now she’s preggers!!
I had a bit of a meltdown today and she was brilliant. It takes me a while to get used to people, to open up, and I was just finally getting comfortable with N.
In fairness, she’ll be a fabulous mum, but sigh…..I don’t want another change.
Today at my psych review I was offered more pills….more frigging pills!! I shall now have additional quietiapine (25mg) to take as needed during the day. It feels like a futile gesture. The psychiatrist just didn’t know what to do with me. He had to offer something I guess.
So now my daily regimen will be; Quietiapine 300 mg, venlafaxine 75 mg, mirtazapine 30 mg, quietiapine 25 mg when I feel I need it, zopiclone 22.5 mg and hmmmm, orlistat 120 mg any time I’m feeling fat and guilty over eating (so quite regular).
What an absolute mess!!!
On a slightly different note, I’m considering going to a depression support group. It’s about the only thing I can access outside work hours.
They want to keep people in work, living normal lives, but all the care operates 9-5. Very VERY annoying.