I bailed half way through a counselling appointment last week. I told her I wanted to end the session. I have psychology coming up, being fast tracked due to the whole pregnancy thing, but I’m dreading it. At the moment I don’t want to talk. The counselling is a self referral stop gap. You get 6 sessions and then you have to re refer. I really friggin liked her, but even with her, I started to clam up.
At the moment I’m doing a lot of crying, a lot of self appraisal and a lot of failing.
I’m so ashamed of how I’m feeling. I thought I’d pop on here and spill with ease but nope, I can’t even write down how I’m feeling.
I’m a horrible horrible person.
I wish the counsellor would contact me, but it’s not her job to do that. She left the door open, but I can’t quite walk through it. I need her to pull me through it.
My boys love me, but they don’t need me. The heartiest of laughs is usually heard when I’m not in the room, but listening from afar. OH does the dressing, feeding, bathing etc 90% of the time anyway. I don’t contribute fairly. I’m useless.
It’s funny how a few fleeting thoughts can become an obsession. What drugs do I have? How much do I need? When should I take them? It plays over and over and over relentlessly.
My family came to visit us today. Mum, Dad, my sister and her 3 children. It was nice seeing them but………
Here’s an insight into why I’m ^damaged^
I bring out shortbread to go with their cups off tea. Mum looks at the packet, turns to me and says; “aw, sure they’re not Scottish*. 1st disapproval off the day.
Later the kiddos had lunch and chocolate cake. The floor a mess, I take out our broom. Mum takes it, sweeps one stroke; “you think you’d buy a decent brush’ 2nd disapproval of the day.
A little while later I give my sister the grand tour. As she’s coming down the stairs she remarks “oh I love your Garland. Mum quickly pipes up; ^sure there’s not even any lights on it!”
There we have it folks, the trifecta. I could go on with the negative gripes that spewed today, but I can’t be arsed. Sometimes I’m accused of black and white thinking, but honestly folks if she had muttered even just the slightest off positive remarks, I’d shout it from the friggin tree tops! Not my Mum, not now, not ever.
It was still nice seeing them all though. I can manage a day, just about
I know myself well enough now, to know that it’s not good when my head goes to these places. Diazepam is safe, frustratingly safe. I know this, because I’ve been searching. Frantically trawling for the LD50’s (a dose that would be lethal for 50% of the people who take it).
I’ve been searching as my get out plan. I’ve been searching because I have tonnes of the stuff in my drawer. I’ve been searching because I feel odd. I feel incapable of ever ditching my zopiclone dependence. The Temapezam is giving me night terrors and awful headaches. Tomorrow I will be begging to have my zopiclone back.
Work is getting done, but very slowly and I can feel the pressure squeezing in on me. I’m forgetting loads. My head is just not retaining stuff. Names that I should know, escape me. Tasks that I should do, get forgotten. Meetings that i should attend pop up in reminders 3 days after the event. “Oh crap, I’ve missed another one!!
Little man is doing well, but that’s in spite off me, not because of any good parenting on my part. Take him away OH, just take him away.
So yeah, Diazepam is safe. Huge amounts can leave no serious ill effects, if caught. Diazepam is safe