Today I’m on my own for the first time since my last hospital discharge. OH is away to see our son (who is staying with grabdparenrs) and he has a job interview tomorrow.
I’m flying over on Saturday morning. It will be the first time I’ll see little man since April 3rd.
I’m nervous, more than just nervous and today I’m alone.
Damn it Loopy, turn your head off. Go distract yourself. Do not do anything stupid!!
you didn’t get it, to be honest.” These were the words that fell from my mother’s lips, as I told her I didn’t get the job. This was her first response. Surely on some level she knows that missing out would be disappointing. Surely she can recognise that on some level, I MUST have wanted it; why else would I apply?
How has she not yet learned to tread more carefully? How is it, that she can’t just be supportive.
I quickly changed the topic. We bought a car, which will be delivered next week. I told my mum the colour….. her reply;
“oh I can’t stand white!”
Yesterday my psychologist told me; “we can’t proceed with therapy at this time, you are too distressed”
This is not the first time I’ve asked for help and have been turned away because I’m too messed up. It was a devastating blow. Is it me? Why do people keep fobbing me off to other services.
Why am I impossible to work with? How on earth do I move forward when service after service keep knocking me back.
My thoughts race constantly, flipping from chores, to work duties, to self hatred,to my endless list of failings and suicide plans. Can someone please turn off my head?
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 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.
I’m back in my living room, and I’m on edge. I’ve eaten too much today, gained too much weight over Christmas and every thought in my head is screaming, “get off your ass, you fat ugly b##ch!!
OH is telling me to chill and start tomorrow. I can’t wait until tomorrow, I have to go out now!
I’ve been struggling with food lately. I’ve been binging, feeling disgusting and vomiting. I was waking up in the morning with sore throats and let’s be honest, it will destroy my teeth.
My meds have helped a little I think, in that I’m binging a little less (when I do eat though it’s junk) and I’ve tried to replace vomiting with exercise.
I’ve just done a 16 km bike ride. When I’m out on my bike I’m not eating and I’m burning calories. I feel the need though to go further and further each night. I feel fat and disgusting if I don’t go. It’s becoming a bit of an addiction, but then I guess it’s better than vomuting?
I really really REALLY wish I could kick my ball again.