I’m still in hospital, I’m still quite low, I’m still a bit of a mess.
They asked me this week, “do you write things down?”. I guess I’ve stopped lately and I’m not sure why. I think I was maybe scared of being boring.
I feel sad, I feel alone, blah blah blah. I think I’m getting sick of even listening to myself. I’m very pathetic.
At this time, I want to run away. I don’t want to see, or talk to, or be around anyone, and I mean ANYONE.
I’m ignoring family calls, cutting conversations with little man short, ending text conversations abruptly and delaying booking visits for OH.
I’m ignoring bump. Trying to pretend it’s not happening,. Trying to block it out.
I want to be alone. I don’t want to have reasons to fight anymore, but I do. Its really hard because I want to die alone……
I’ve put the shutters up, I don’t ever want to take them down.
DISCLAIMER… Sorry readers, this ones rather sweary…..
Dear Family, Shut the fuck up, and fuck the fuck off!!!!!!!!!
My mental state is deeply routed in the constant judgement, and opinions that I’m subjected to.
“Oh he’s definitely autistic, sure you know what’s he’s like….. Why are you being so defensive!… you need to get him assessed. You know he’s going to need support. Sure he’s so odd. There’s definitely something wrong with him.” .. Thanks for that dear sister, now fuck off….
“Sure you know there’s nothing wrong with him… Sure how would he not be odd, sure you and Daddy are odd a fuck. Do ya know what he needs, a good slap once in a while. Sure he’s spoiled!! Yas have him ruined”…… Thanks for that dear mother, now fuck off!!!!
“Oh I’m not sure about that school, they’re very small. If he needs any help sure it’ll take years. Our J sent his children to HF. It’s a great wee school. You should apply there…..Thanks for that dear mother in law, now fuck off!!!!!!!
All I want, even just once, is for someone to tell me; “actually you’re doing a good job” “he’s a credit to you both”
Not in my family….
I used to find blogging cathartic but at the moment I just can’t be bothered.
It’s a familiar feeling. The stats indicate that no one is reading it anyway.
Posts would be treading over old ground. The cyclical feelings of worthlessness, ugliness and increasing hoplesness. What the hell is wrong with me?
On a side note, I’ve ordered pills. It sounded dodgy from the start. Indian voices on a crackled line have kinda prepped me for identity theft, a bank account clear out, and a package that will never arrive. If it does arrive, god knows what’s in them!! I don’t really remember placing the order, or consuming the choclate bar, whose wrapper I found on my bedside locker this morning. Life’s becoming a little hazy.
We don’t sleep together much, OH and I. It’s a combination of his low libido and my new found depression induced self hatred and lack of confidence.
I bring it up occasionally, and last Thursday night during pillow talk, I suggested that tonight (saturday) we’d have some scheduled sexy time. The only caveat was that he must make the moves. He agreed.
Tonight we’ve gone to bed a little early. He’s climbed in, turned his back to me and is now spark out. It’s an all too familiar story. It’s one that crushes me every time.
Am I so ugly and undesirable? Am I really that repulsive???
I shall just knock myself out instead.
you didn’t get it, to be honest.” These were the words that fell from my mother’s lips, as I told her I didn’t get the job. This was her first response. Surely on some level she knows that missing out would be disappointing. Surely she can recognise that on some level, I MUST have wanted it; why else would I apply?
How has she not yet learned to tread more carefully? How is it, that she can’t just be supportive.
I quickly changed the topic. We bought a car, which will be delivered next week. I told my mum the colour….. her reply;
“oh I can’t stand white!”
I am so ashamed of how I’m feeling. Everyone is asking me to talk more, but I fear they’ll realise just how horrible I am.
I want to give up. I want to leave little man in ireland, abandon OH, and take no more breaths on this earth.
I’m a quitter, a waste of space and I’ve been experimenting with ligatures.
I’m no good for either of them anyway. Im no good for anyone.
Just do it loopy, end your pain.
Yesterday I was told; “everybody has worries in their life”
Today I was told “you have a lot more than some people”
Both the statements are true, but both of them stung me like a knife in the chest. Both off them felt like a personal attack. Both of them sounded just like my mum.
I wanted C today. I’m a little scared of seeing her again, after hanging up on her, but I hope we’ll be ok. I need her.
I’ve just taken my bike out. 35 minutes pumping as hard as I possibly could. I’m still a jittery, agitated mess.
The truth hurts!
Today, I phoned for my blood test results. I had a full work up. The voice on the line said; “yes they’re all normal”
I don’t understand. I don’t believe her. I want to see the numbers and rhe the eeferenxe ranges. I don’t know how this is possible. I was sure they’d indicate some physcal deficiency. I’d hoped for it. Something we could “treat” to make me feel better.
Most people would be thrilled to get the all clear. I’m devastated.
I don’t understand…….
Is it all in my head?
Do you have a plan to end your life?
I’ve lost it, completely lost it. My capacity to function with some sense of normality, has gone. I felt sorry for my CPN today. I was her last appointment, and it wasn’t a “yes everything is great, you can go home early kind of chat” Did I mention that I’ve lost it?
I could see her rapidly calculating risk, going through the “toolkit” of mental health evaluations. Do we need to call 999, or will she last until tomorrow?
And then I was asked, that question that always seems so bizarre to me. Answer wrong and I’d be shipped off to somewhere “safe”.
Off course I’ve thought about it. Imagined my red long sleeve t-shirt, knotted tight! around my neck. I’ve played it over and over and over, in my mind. I’ve pictured the scene that would await, police, or paramedics, or worse OH and my beautiful little boy. I’ve thought about, the logistics, off flying me home. The anger over delays, and paperwork, that would draw out an already difficult time.
Right now I’m staring at my clothes iron. Hair straighteners aren’t working anymore. I can’t get any relief. Would a larger more intense burn help?
I answered the question correctly. She left, which is partly what I wanted her to do. The other part, wanted a hug. A tight, body stabilising, “you’ve got this! hug.
“I don’t know”
Its probably a bad sign when your CPN utters these words But she did, several times today. They don’t know what to do with me. She’s going to arrange a psych review because in her words “3 heads are better than one”
I’m lost, I’m tired, and I’m scared. I need reassurance, not doubts. Everyone keeps asking me what is happy loopy like? What does happy loopy do? I don’t know!!!
What do you hope to get out of treatment? What are your goals??? Again I don’t know!!! The only thing I know, is that I’m desperanely sad, desperately lonely and I’m using self destructive behaviours in an attempt to cope.
Where on earth do I go from here? Should I quit my job? Should I move back home? Should I part ways with OH or should I just quit life. Accept that it’s not meant for me, and bid farewell to this torture for good.
Right now, I should stop being a selfish cow, and I should offer comfort to OH. His Dad is currently on an operat8ng table in a different country, undergoing major bypass surgery, and it’s lasting longer than expected.
Get a grip loopy!!