I can’t stop crying…
Today we emptied our house and shipped all our stuff home before we follow on Thursday.
Right now I can’t stop crying. I’m crying because I’m still depressed. I’m crying because I’m having really strong suicidal urges and I’m crying because it doesn’t matter where we move to… my head will follow us.
I feel absolutely hopeless.
My foot has been tapping relentlessly this past few days. I could give Michael Flatley a run for his money.
When I try to restrict it/ hold it still, a wave of tension moves through my whole body causing me to clench and squeeze my limbs awkwardly. People keep telling me it’s anxiety, but I don’t believe it is. I blame my pills.
They won’t give me any PRN at all. It’s incredibly frustrating and making me want to burn, to take the edge off.
Today I was able to face time little man. It’s the first time I’ve seen him in about 3 weeks. He seems to be doing ok which is good, but mum guilt has certainly kicked in. I’ve abandoned him again.
Family have once more raised concerns about his social skills. I really wish they wouldn’t. Now is not the time.
I do worry about him. I do still think he shows ASD traits and it’s a fact that he is speech delayed, but I can’t face that right now.
There are some huge changes ahead. Changes that will hopefully make little man’s upbringing better. The problem is, I’m not good with change. I’m flipping constantly between hope and suicidal despair. It’s exhausting.
Back on the ward now, and I’ve burned.
The doc in here is too black and white. “You need a plan loopy” “you need to quit something”
He’s not seeing “me”. I’m so much more than just an over tired working mum. I’m a self loathing mess, crippled with self hatred and self doubts. I have a complex past that has shaped who I am today. I am not black and white I am different shades of grey.. only grey.
They’re all dying to discharge me. They can’t see what I and my CPN can see, I need more help. I need to be moved to the ward with the clock. They had more empathy, more compassion and gave more of themselves to understanding “me”
Having said that, I’m being unfair. The staff do try but I’m not comfortable enough yet to open up.
I need to ligature. If I’m lucky, I’ll pass out.
I am so ashamed of how I’m feeling. Everyone is asking me to talk more, but I fear they’ll realise just how horrible I am.
I want to give up. I want to leave little man in ireland, abandon OH, and take no more breaths on this earth.
I’m a quitter, a waste of space and I’ve been experimenting with ligatures.
I’m no good for either of them anyway. Im no good for anyone.
Just do it loopy, end your pain.
I had done it. I had landed a premium position at a Russell group university. It was my dream job. I had worked so hard to get to that point and now……..
Now I’m probably throwing it all away. Now I can see no better options but to relinquish this positiin and head, tail between my legs for home.
I simply couldn’t cope. This morning I tied a sheet around my neck and flopped head thumping to the floor. It wasn’t tight enough, and staff found me.
I want to do it again, tighter this time… I want someone to take my angst away. I want to feel like less of a failure. I want to die.
I really don’t know how to continue living.
I’m back inside, back on level 2’s, back to chaotic wards and cold toast.
I’m not where I want to be. I wish they’d move me to my old stomping ground.
I guess for now, I’ll just stay compliant.