I’ve been having a lot of muscle aches and pains lately, and memory lapses. It’s starting to worry me. I’d kind off switched from zopiclone to diazepam at night. Above the recommended dose off course. No one seems to care, that I’m a drug addict, off sorts. They just keep prescribing benzos and Z’s without question. I’m digressing.
Anyway I reckon the diazepam was/is causing the muscle pains. I’ve gone off it anyway after one horrendous, almost out of body, night terror experience. I woke myself up screaming! Had the worst realistic nightmare I’ve ever had. Was physically shaking, heart racing upon awakening. It scared me. Zopiclone has never done that.
As for my memory, I put things down and instantly forget. I walk into rooms and don’t know why? Today topped it all. I was chatting to my neighbour and her doggy over the fence. I talk to Flynn (doggie) daily. Today though, I could not for the life off me, recall his name.
I’m not the only one in this house who suffers from depression. This past few years, I’ve probably made things all about me. I’ve been the one in and out of hospital. I’ve been the one who cries, complains off stress, anxiety and unstable moods. I’ve been the one under the care of a community team (well I used to be.. I couldn’t call it “care” over here).
The reality, one that I’ve known for some time is that it’s not just me who suffers. OH has struggled too since the arrival of little man. OH is always tired, distant and short tempered. His mood affects mine, and more worryingly our moods affect little man. OH snaps and swears and withdraws. He exhibits most off my symptoms.
It’s not fair on him, it’s not fair on me and it’s not fair on little man.
I’ve been selfish, but if we’re to survive as a family, it’s time we addressed the elephant in the room.
It’s taking shape. I’ve never in my life built anything from wood, so despite the somewhat wonky roof, I’m rather proud of this. I’ve been at it all day today. It’s kept me focused on something, and is proving to be a great distraction.
I need all the distractions I can get. I had my psychology assessment this week. They rang me back quickly after, saying that I needed 1 to 1 therapy. Here’s the kicker though… the waiting list is apparently 9 months from now.
I’ve been home a year. All my notes and treatment reccomdations came with me. Yet I wasn’t actually referred until about 4 weeks ago. I’m seriously considering launching an official complaint. No wonder suicide is so devastatingly common here……………………
So the shops are now open and people are going friggin crazy, piling up clothes and underwear and homeware and all manner of crap. It’s insane.
I wandered out today for the first time in ages. Apart from my weekly jaunt to the pharmacy to collect my cocktail of meds, I’ve stayed pretty much hidden away from the world. Today has reaffirmed that I wish to stay hidden away forever.
As I walked up the street, entered shops and stood in queues, I could feel a 1000 eyes on me. Real or imagined, it doesn’t matter, the feeling is the same. I felt strange, uneasy and anxious. I wanted to run home, literally run, but I resisted.
Once in the door I reached for my diazepam and a huge tub off ice cream.
I’m eating Orlistat like smarties these days, and especially on days like this………….even though I cycled 21km this morning.
I need therapy, I need help, and I’ve no idea how to get it? I want to talk to someone. I’m bottling up all my insecurities, worries and stress again. My new key worker/CPN is possibly very nice, but I can’t pick up the phone and call her. I don’t know her, or trust her yet. The very first time we spoke, she said she’d check in again in a month, so roughly 2 more weeks to go. How is that helpful?
Come on loopy, your not a child. It’s not up to others to check on you, probe you, or read between the lines. Take control for gods sake!!!!!!!! you useless whimp!!