2 kg!!! another flipping 2 kg since I’ve come in here. I’m devastated by those numbers on the scale; 59 Kg! The heaviest I’ve ever been in my life was 60 kg and that was the last time my mood was so low.
I feel absolutely grtoesque. I’ve not even been binging whilst in here. That’s it, I’m cutting all my portions in half. I can’t get fat, I just can’t. I’m thinking now of the Merchant of Venace; “a pound of flesh”. Could I cut away the fat without any blood loss?
We all know the answer to that one. Meds or weight gain??? It’s a cruel joke really that all these meds that are supposed to improve your mood, can lead to more self hatred.
I’ve been having some very weird dreams lately and they’re always very stressful scenarios. It’s hard to explain. I’ll wake up frequently and when I dose of again its back to the same dream. in some cases I would say they are lucid but I can’t control them, I just know that its not reality.
So last nights I was a tour guide at a remodelled house from the 1800/s where a family had died. The father I think murdered his wife and child. It was a model of the house, not the actual house itself so I guess it was a tourist attraction really. Kind off felt like going around Anne Franks house in Amsterdam.
So why was I stressed. I was stressed because there were loads of visitors all asking questions some of which I didn’t know the answers to. There were a couple of wheelchair users who couldn’t access the upstairs part of the tour. We had a lift, but get this; it was basically a wooden box will a pulley rope to allow dogs up but not people. The stairs were more like a ladder. There were people complaining that it had no authenticity about it; I’d agree, a dining area had laminate flooring and a modern marble tiled enclosed fireplace! I’d stand there trying to justify how this was like the 1800’s.
There was a bar upstairs, more like a roof top beer garden, and I’d keep getting told off for not reminding the guests downstairs to go up and use it. I’d go off to get members of the public information leaflets or whatever and I’d somehow end up outside, and get completely lost finding my way back. I’d end up in some big red brick industrial estate. (I’m always getting lost so this little detail is probably unsurprising). It was sooooooooooooo stressful.
I woke up anxious. (several times throughout the night)
After being allowed to vent some frustration on L. L has definately made my days more bearable (oh and I picked up a new Wislon), and then tonight we’ve had a settled eveeing in here since the night staff arrived. It’s just been nice sitting in the dining room chatting about nothing but with no one kicking off. I’ve noticed that my favourite hours in here now are between 9-30 pm to bedtime. Maybe its just the sense of us all unwinding, but it’s calming.
No one has yet broached the can of worms that I unleashed, and I am feeling a little uneasy and akward about that.
However, I felt chilled tonight and am hopeful that tonight will bring me good sleep.
So with everyone telling us to move home, I started browsing for jobs out of curiosity. There was one listed on QUB. I sent an and email and have now ended up with a telephone conversation for tomorrow about potential job oppertunities. There is enough stuff in my head already and now isn’t really the time to be making life changing decisions but then again QUB is near home. Do we need to be near homw? Would that make things easier? It would be cheaper I guess and it would mean more family support but also more family opinions and ridicuole. It won’t come of anything anyway but now I’m stressing over it. I brought this one on myself. Arrrrrrrrrrrrrggggggggggghhhhhhhhhhh
I’m low today, 273.15 kelvin low, tears flowing despite the diazepam low. Today I have no hope. I overheard chatter earlier about paying off mortgages and retirement plans etc and all I was thinking; “what type of coffin would I like?” I self harmed just a little. It didn’t help.
I’m so torn right now between living and dying. I know it would devestate my family, but they’d get over it in time wouldn’t they? My son is young enough now not to ever remember knowing me, so wouldn’t it be easier on him if I did it now?
Can I ever pick myself back up from this? Every child deserves a mother, but a good mother. How can I be that for him now? I’m rambling………….
To top it all off I kicked Wilson over the roof. I badly need a new Wilson. I’ll do some punching maybe.
D’s kicking off, throwing cereal boxes around and rambling!, E’s cleaning up clattering the sugar pot lid and smashing fridge shelves about. E’s playing her radio. R comes in and starts playing music on her phone. Staff are chattering and the cleaner arrives with the floor buffer. I can’t stand it! I can’t stand it!!!!!!! It’s too much noise…Nails on a blackboard again!!!!!……………………………… I need to get away……………..
We’d booked an hour in the family room toady, by 45 minutes I’d had enough. OH looked tired also. This is all too hard on him I think.
“Bet that flew in then Loopy” staff remarked as they let me back in. Acutally it dragged, it really really dragged. What the hell is wrong with me. My little man is a beuatiful, clever, funny little boy, and he’s growing up so fast and I’m missing it all, but when he’s here I just want him to leave.
What the hell is wrong with me!!!!!!
I also want to see him regularly, in the hopes that my bond with him will pop up and say hello. I just feel weird around him now. He’s mine but at the moment he’s everyone elses and he’ll forget who his Mum is. I love him and I hate him. It’s more love than hate but still. How the hell do you explain that?