255. The impossible question.

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.

Loopy x.

242. Chickenpox!

Nursery had an outbreak a few weeks ago. I’ve been watching little man closely, and this weekend; BOOM!

The spots are literally erupting before my eyes. We could really be doing without this right now. I’m going to have to take time off work. I’m not in any position to asking for time off, given my recent episodes.

Little man is grumpy. Indeed I would be too. I’ve had them as a child, but oh dear, tonight I’m feeling rather itchy.

Let’s hope it’s just a psychological reaction to having pox in our house. My immune system is probably already working overdrive. Can it cope with chicken pox?

Loopy x.

222. Kick me when I’m down

“You should think about going down to 50% until September” Those where the words that spilled from my boss’s mouth this morning, during a meeting that I had to request, in order to discuss how I’m doing on my phased return.

They stung! You’re no good to me now Loopy, you can’t handle anything and it’s costing us too much, is what I heard. All I needed was a supportive, “you can do this” but instead the last remaining shred of optimism for my future was ripped away.

I’m a burden, I’m incompetent and I’m very nearly done.

Tonight’s little sleeping pills are the same brand as those I used in August. It’s the first time a pharmacy has dispensed the same kind, in all these months. It’s a coincidence that they arrived today, on a day when I want to consume them all. I don’t have enough though, so I’ll just have to settle for a slightly comatosed sleep.

I have no capacity for stress, no tolerance for the all to familiar stares from other commuters, no cut off valves, when my face decides to spontaneously leak and no hope that this will ever change.

I wish I could see my old CPN. She’d know how to make me feel a little better. God I wish she’d come back…..

Loopy x

194. The 3 B’s

Today my downward spiral continues. It’s a day that needs to end. I’ve binged, I’ve biked and I’ve burned.

I slept in, slightly comatosed from last night’s sleep aid. I rushed little man out the door to nursery, and when I arrived home, I made a cuppa and sat with my thoughts.

I wanted to leave little man at nursery indefinitely, and actually dreaded picking him up this evening. I’m no good for him, and sometimes, I think I hate him, or is it the life I now lead since his arrival?

I’ve shoved chocolate bars, cereal bars, real butter smothered scones, bananas, crisps, yogurts, sweets, and anything else edible in my possession, into my face; as if preparing for a winter hibernation.

I off course felt grotesque, and this feeling forced me to go and pump some pedals. Upon returning home I binged some more, fueling further disgust.

Two fingers down my throat expelled some off this disgust, and straightening irons held firmly against my arm expelled some more, and brought me temporary calm.

Now though, with some hours remaining before bedtime, my arm is in agony, my jaws are crying out for more junk food and my legs, (already fatigued from overdoing things lately) are jittery as my head is telling me, I need to pedal some more.

Loopy x

189. I’m done.

My little man is currently screaming the house down. Going home has completely messed up his night time routine.

I can’t hack it. If I go into that room, I’ll smack him, so I’ve sent OH up.

I swear I’m done. I’m no good for him, or anyone else. I’m done! I’m so fucking done!!!!

Loopy x

177. Little Man is 2.

Today is my little mans 2nd birthday and I’m sad. I feel like he’s growing up too fast, and I’m sorry that I’ve been such a crap Mum for so much of his life so far.

I guess in the past few months though, we’ve made progress and I should be thankful for that.

My little man is everything, and I promise I’ll try to do better by him.

Loopy x

174. Nervous.

Tomorrow I’m going against every fibre in my being. All I wasn’t to do is hide away.

Tomorrow I’m braving a toddler group and I’m bricking it! I was supposed to be met outside, but a phoncall confirmed that my hand holder would in fact be late. I’m trying to be positive but my head has filled with fears;

The other woman will stare at me and mock me behind my back for looking like crap.

They’ll have there own alrezdy established impenetrable cliques.

No one will talk to me.

I’ll struggle to help littleman with any activities due to my crap sight or worse I’ll lose him in the room

Little man won’t play nice, will likely poop and throw a tantrum at something. I’m worried he’ll make a scene.

Wish me luck I guess, if I don’t bottle it. I said I’d go, and a nurse is coming for my benefit so I guess I can’t bottle it.

Loopy x