I’m supposed to be tapering of zopiclone this week. I’m supposed to stop taking more than 15mg. I’m supposed to get a frigging grip, but I can’t do it.
My arms are a total mess, but no one has asked me directly how I’m doing on that score, so I’ve kept it to myself.
I feel out of control and stupid. I feel unwell, and I know that it’s my own fault. I’ve not been able to hit the gym whilst OH was away, so the guilt took hold ensuring I expelled most meals to some extent, before digestion.
This morning started fairly brightly. I had fun with spotty little man out on his balance bike. He’s getting rather good.
By evening I’d crumbled, burned and binged. Then binged some more..
My CPN will see me wednesday as will a nursery nurse to discuss little man’s delayed speech.
I’m disgusting and stupid, and crap at parenting and there isn’t a pill in the world that can fix that.
I left work an hour early. I had errands to run. I needed to swing by a pharmacy (20 mins each way) , pick up my newly serviced bike, and be back in time to pick little man up from nursery.
But then…….. what a flipping Muppet, I missed my train stop! I’d gone 3 stops past before I noticed!!!!! This pretty much sums up my head off late. I’m just not functioming properly.
Now I’m home alone with a very grumpy toddler. It’s just us, this weekend. OH has had to fly home to see his Dad before a big heart op next week.
I’m not sure I’m going to cope. Physically I’m not feeling great, and mentally, I’m quite unstable.
On the bright side, my bike feels like new.
I’m not sure but I think my blood pressure has dropped. A combination of weight loss, hard gym sessions, weeping burns and my overuse of sedatives could certainly be the cause.
I’m nauseous, fatigued, have a reduced appetite, get dizzy, have headaches and I’m shaky, unbelievably shaky.
I hope it’s hypotension. My list of symptoms could also indicate a struggling liver.
I’m quite worried.
I requested a meeting with my boss today. He’s had a rough day. One off my colleagues resigned,overworked and over stressed.
My boss could not hide his contempt when I told him I might now need Thursday mornings off. I’ve been taking little man along to psychology but It’s not working. I was honest at the end off my last session.
The therapy model may now be changing. We’re going to discuss it next week. But it will also mean changing day, so that little man is being cared for elsewhere.
Could you not do it on Mondays? His tone was scornful. I’m pretty useless to be fair, and I don’t know how to fix it.
The fact I was twitching like a maniac wouldn’t have helped.
She didn’t say so, but I could see it in her face. This evening I had a chat with my CPN. I’m doing nothing to help myself, so how on earth can they help me.
I’m starting to feel like, they think I’m an attention seeker. I think they’re fed up with me. I think I should just cut all ties and go it alone.
I can’t answer the “what is it that’s making you sad questions, nor can I answer the what is happy loopy like questions.
The only thing I know, is that life does not feel worth living. Life is too hard.
I need to find the courage to end it now, and do it right this time.
I was on the brink. I was alone and I was vulnerable so I called my CPN. By the time she called me back, I had calmed a little. I’m glad I phoned her though. I’m warming to her quickly and I’m getting more comfortable talking to her
But when I make these calls, they often ask; “what would make you feel better, or make things easier?”
Honestly I don’t know! There is no one thing that can be fixed to miracoulously cure me. It is, I guess a culmination of lots of little thongs. My hatred for my albinism, my struggles with my fear of gaining weight, my family isolation, my inability to drive,my emotionally absent, or rather equally drained partner, my stressful job, my mum guilt and my worries for little man, my feelings of worthlessness and incompetence, my head fuzz, forgetfulness and confusion (probably drug induced) and my inability to sleep.
There are 3 things right now that are probably slowly killing me. My dependence on zopiclone, my persistent self burning, and my regular binge/purge cycles.
Not one of these has yet come up in therapy, since losing K. This new therapist, although kind, is not the right fit for me.
How do I tell her?
Nor do I know what to type here. Blogging is usually cathartic, but when I can’t find the words, it frustrates me.
Today, I’ve shipped little man off to nursery, and I’ve returned to bed. Today I’ve binged and burned. Today I’m feeling weak and hopeless.
Today I want to die. I don’t have any strength left, and I’m missing L. She just somehow always managed to soothe me.
I need her back. I can’t bring myself to call my newest CPN for help.
And anyway, I’m beyond help.