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

217. Snowballing.

I’ve gone back too soon. I’m fragile and teary, and they’re piling too much on me. It’s too fast!

I can’t prep for practicals and lectures, and moderate modules and mark scientific reports

It’s too much to plan, to organise and prioritise. My threshold for stress appears quite low. How do I tell my boss to hit the brakes? How is my career ever going to survive this?

Myself and OH also had a family therapy assessment today before I went to work. I have no optimism in this regard. I can’t be fixed, nor can I speak freely in front of OH. The damage is too ingrained.

There’s too much stuff in my head, too many spinning plates. I’ve phoned and asked for more PRN, until then, I guess I just need to keeping breathing.

I’ve burned and I want to binge. I must not eat, I MUST NOT EAT!!

Loopy x

215. 3 little puddles.

The battle lines were drawn. He glared at me steadfast, and confident. There was only ever going to be one winner here.

No I will not use a spoon today Mummy! I will eat my beef and mash on my terms, or I shall starve!!!!!

You’ve got to admire the stubberness off a 2 year old. We can usually count on him to swallow grub without protest, handling cutlery like a pro.

Some battles are worth fighting and simetimes when sleep depruved and alone it’s just easier to wait whilst this little human, slowly and infuriatingly sucks beef and mash from a 5ml paracetamol syringe.

This evening would be spent powerhosing every nook and cranny of his little pudgy arms and legs. There was much fun had running and rolling down sand dunnes and I knew that he would harbour kilograms of the stuff and gleefully sprinkle it on kitchen tiles, staircase carpets and bedroom floors upon our return home. I will deal with that tomorrow!!!

Now though, it’s bath time. A whiff of something in the air indicated the need for a gentle pre wipe. I whipped his nappy off, dealt with his thoughtful little gift, and stood him, bare bummed and smiling by our bath.

I quickly nipped out to grab his PJ’s and upon my return, there they were, glistening and golden on my bathroom floor;

3 little puddles………….

Loopy x

205. No endorphin boost.

I went to the gym again last night. I didn’t go because I wanted to. I went because there was a strong compulsion to go, a compulsion driven by the fish supper I’d eaten earlier as comfort, but couldn’t expel as OH was loitering around me.

I also went because I was disgusted with myself, and I was craving the intensity, followed by calm that burning would usually provide.

My chest is in agony from a pulled muscle but I attacked the cross trainer with gusto! It did not lift my angst, or ease the self loathing that persisted to penetrate through my blasting headphones. I could barely breathe as I struggled to hold myself together, wheezy chested and tears tricking down my face camoflauged with sweat under a peaked cap.

I attacked the spinning bike before I left until my body couldn’t muster anymore effort, and my limbs were truely exhausted.

It was not a healthy gym session. It served it’s calorie burning purpose but there was no endorphin rush, just sheer exhaustion.

I came home soaked in sweat, showered and in place of the burning I still desperately craved I swallowed 3 sleeping pills.

Still sleep eluded me. Tonight I’ll swallow 4.

Loopy x

202. Occupational Health Review.

Well it’s official, I’m going back to work. It took some lies and half truths, but the doc eventually agreed it will be good for me.

I’ve read his report;;” I recommend that Dr. Loopy is completely supernumarery for the first couple off weeks” This makes me feel a bit pathetic. I can return but not be entrusted with anything. I can return but treat me delicately or I might crack.

I’m at the stage where I do need to go back. Financially we can’t struggle on any longer and I need another reason to get up in the morning.

I’m scared though; absolutely petrified that I’ll crumble again. I’ve not recovered to quite the extend I would have hoped for by now.

I guess I’ll never truly know how I’ll cope until I try. So tomorrow I shall phone my boss and set the wheels in motion.

Loopy x

199. Massive endorphin boost!!

And oh god I needed it!! I’m so grateful right now for the constant gentle supportive nagging that I’ve had about finding hobbies again. I totally forgot how much I used to enjoy judo and how much fun it is to chuck 15st dudes around. Tonight’s class was all wrestling; proper wrestling!

Let’s face it, these things tend to be male dominated and you know what? That’s part of the rush. I’m 5 ft 3, and currently weigh 55 kg, and I’ve just spent an hour grappling with guys twice my size.

I got floored several times and my flat chested fried eggs, are now pancakes!, but it was awesome.

Last night I had hit rock bottom, and cried a flood before bedtime, but tonight, I’m feeling rather elated. I’m going to be bloomin sore tomorrow.

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