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.
I’ve been struggling. In truth I’m stressed with work,and when I’m stressed, I quickly lose my ability to cope.
OH is working a long day, so it’s just been me and little man. I found it hard to cope. I shoved my eyepad before his eye as much as I could. I avoided him, I grew frustrated with him, and in turn he grew whiney, and clingy.
Its not his fault, it’s mine. So this evening I’ve given in to temptation, I’ve done what I needed to do, to get me through today.
It hurts now. Why do I do this to myself.
I’ve been out on leave for the past 4 days, but today I was officially discharged. It’s weird, but this always comes with a little sadness on my part. I think you get so used to being wrapped in a 24/7 blanket of care, that leaving it makes you feel vulnerable and a little alone.
The staff were generally great. They wouldn’t usually tolerate patients who behaved as I did. Any self harm over here gets you shipped immediately to a PICU, but covid stopped that, and they managed me as best they could. They even took my wardrobe, the actual furniture away.
I now have a clearer picture on what my priorities must be.
1. Get help for my PND.
2. Get help for my eating issues and drug use, although since leave I have reduced my zopiclone down to 7.5mg only.
3. Seek support or at least clarification regarding my BPD traits.
4 Learn to like myself again and accept my emotions in a more positive way.
You can only tackle these one at a time Loopy, but you can do it!!
I started this blog around 2 years ago, when I was first sectioned and subsequently admitted to a psych hospital.
I can’t believe it’s post 400, but worse I can’t believe I’m writing this from my bed on a different psych ward.
My mood is low today. My future hopes are well not exactly hopeful.
I’ve not seen little man in weeks (damn covid 19). What I have seen thought is that little man and OH do well without me.
They’ve moved back into granny’s for a bit. That’s where they belong.
Little man deserves a happy home, and all the love and care and support that I can’t offer him.
I love you little man, but you deserve so much more.
This drug addicted, self destructive, self centred mum is no good for you.
I’m not leaving you buddy, I’m freeing you…
Those 3 little words bellowed continuously through the bathroom door. The handle squeeked and juddered as tiny hands kept twisting it. Toddlers are relentless!!!! Actually is he even classed as a toddler anymore? He’s 3, and a sturdy build at that.
I’d already locked it.
“Just go away, please please just go away.”
Fingers sticky with strands of stretchy saliva, eyes reds and puffy, and my stomach contracting, as hard as I could muster. It’s getting harder to throw up now. My gag reflex has almost gone completely, but I’ve not been to the gym today, and I can’t afford to absorb the calories and fat from those delicious hot dogs (OH lovingly prepared), that I ravenously consumed earlier.
I’m sorry little man. I’m sorry I can’t do better. I’m sorry for ignoring you and for wishing you’d go away. I’m sorry I’m such a crap mum.
The thing is, I don’t know if it’s real, or imagined. Is there actually a little high pitched tone emanating from something in the room, or is it all in my head?
It’s troubling my right ear. It’s unsettling. I’ve had this sensation before, but tonight it feels a little louder than usual.
This is it Loopy. You have to perform, you have to impress, YOU HAVE TO SMASH IT!!
We have a school review and various curriculum reviews coming up at work. I used to know people in charge of making these things a success. Now as Senior Lecturer, I am that person.
I need to prepare paperwork, I need to know our courses inside out, and when put before the interrogation panels, in a few weeks, I need to impress!
My head is screaming run away!! My head is screaming; ‘you will fail!!”
I’m not good enough. I’m stressed and scared. My prospects, my career and passing my probation depend on this.
I want to burn. I want to down some zopiclone, and I want to hide.
Come in Loopy, you CAN do this!!!
I was unbelieveably tired this morning. I got up at my usual, 5.45am, got ready, and caught my. bus.
I snoozed on the commute as I usually do. It’s not proper sleep, it’s more like drifting in and out of consciousness aftet a few too many boozy beverages.
At my destination, I was still drained, but somehow managed to carry my heavily weighted limbs for the 25 min walk to my office. Once I arrived though, I was done. Physically and emotionally exhausted. I could barely stand, barely hold my head straight, so I did something quite odd.
I locked my door, climbed under my desk, lay on the floor and snoozed. Around 45 minutes later I awoke to the sound of colleagues chatting down the corridor. I was now just slightly more awake, and able to face the day.
I’ve never done that before, but in sheer desperation I just had to lie down.
I’m struggling folks, but no one’s noticing.
I work at a fairly prestigious uni, and as course co-ordinator I must be able to sell! That is, sell the subject to prospective students and win over anxious parents. On Wednesday night at a road show I oozed friendlyness and bravado. I beckoned guests to our stand, and honestly wooed them. Its like i step out of myself and become someone else. A confident assured person who can chat to anyone, except it’s all front, hiding the terror within me.
But tonight I’ve had 11mg of zopiclone, I’ve thrown up as much of my dinner as I could, and I’m craving self harm.
I had a bad start today, jumping on the wrong bus and thus turning a 2 hour commute into a 4 hour one. When I finally arrived at work, I couldn’t get into my office. Yep I’d left my keys at home. Thankfully the boss had a master key.
Tonight im quite tired but my head is beginning to self destruct. Shut up thoughts, please shut up.
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?