This week is proving rather stressful. I’m trying to stay level headed and rational but it’s difficult. Everything always seems to pile up on me, at once;
I’m going back to work on Thursday which is momentous in itself, but then throw in a psychotherapy assessment on Wednesday morning followed by an introduction to the lady who’s taking over as my CPN in the afternoon. Also I recieved an email this morning asking me to complete a work stress assessment form from my manager.
There’s too much to think about, too many worries to juggle and I’m not in the form today for any off it. Little man’s at home with me and I’m struggling.
I need to order my meds again and I can already see that the doses are wrong on the GP’s system AGAIN!!! They screw it up EVERY TIME My surgery are totally incompetent!
I don’t have the energy to sort it out today.
Today I’m feeling deflated, exhausted and hopeless. We had little mans 2 year review this morning and despite him scoring well on most parts, it brought me no joy. He is speech delayed and socially a little odd at times. We’ve been told to follow the wait and see approach for another few months.
As soon as the nurse left I returned to bed. I just want the ground to swallow me up today. My mood has plunged and I’m not sure I can cope with this turbulence any more.
I need to go and pick up meds, so maybe the quick jaunt on my bike will help.
I was the deputy programme director for months. I was stepping up to full honours when I decided to give up on life.
Now!, well now; “don’t worry, we won’t give you any school critical stuff” In other words, you can’t be trusted with anything important.
My career is in the toilet. No surprise I guess. I’m crap at everything.
It’s the hardest thing in the world to do, when you need it most. I do have numbers to call, but I can’t hit dial. I desperately need to talk, but I’m fearful of the conversation. I waited today until after 5, in the hope the answer phone would offer some soothing useful guidance, but the cold, monotone Irish (Dublin?) accent offered little comfort in ushering me to A&E. I can’t bring myself to A&E and I can’t shut down my racing thoughts.
OH and little man come home tomorrow, and I don’t want them to, nor do I want to be here when they do. I am actively scheduling activities to minimise time alone with my head, but really I’m just pissing in the wind, and I can’t do it anymore. I don’t even want to try.
Tonight I will sleep. I’ll make sure of that……….. Tomorrow? Don’t worry, I’ll still be here…….
My head is racing. Everything in my being is screaming at me to hurt myself. It’s not that I want to die, as such. I just want to sleep for a while. A deep undisturbed slumber, where I have no thoughts, worries or responsibilities.
I’ve tried everything today to distract myself. It was not a good time for pyschok8gy to cancel on me.
I almost bought alcohol this evening. I browsed through every wine bottle, eventually snapping out of it and opting for hot chocolate instead. I need the wine for courage.
I can hear my CPN’s gentle voice in my head; “Come on Loopy, what are you going to do this evening to ground yourself?”
“OK audible, it’s a date. I’ll run the bath, you light the candles……”
I’m standing dangerously close to the edge, and it would take no more than a little gust to blow me over. My heads a mess. Two voices are jostling for position, and honestly, I’m exhausted.
I wrote some notes today; the kind of notes, that no one wants to find. A home vist and a gym boost have given me some strength. I will go to psychology tomorrow, and otherwise try to fill my day with activities that distract me.
I’m not sure I can do this much longer though.
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Oh Robert Frost, I’ve yet to choose.