I’m literally shaking, my stomach is in knots and I can’t control my worrying. How on earth am I going to endure work tomorrow?
On top of that I’m emotionally exhausted following today’s psychotherapy assessment, and CPN chat. I’m also not exactly happy that I’ve finally been allocated to someone new, but she’s off for the next two weeks.
On top of that I’ve walked a total of 12 km7 today, just to attend the appointments and swing by my village pharmacy to pick up my meds on the way home. God I wish I could drive!!
I also bumped into a familiar face today, from my old ward. I was supposed to give her a shout after my assessment, but when I went to reception her name escaped me. I left a half baked message with the wrong name and was a little frazzled anyway as I had to rush off to meet my new CPN straight after. I would have loved to chat to her today though, and I’m gutted that I missed my chance.
This evening I wish I could call my previous CPN, no one else. L would know what to say, L would reassure me. I need L!!! I’m kind of freaking out!!!
Tonight my brain is working overdrive. There is now a plan in place for my return to work. I’m going back next Thursday 31st Jan with a 9.30 am start.
I will work 1 day next week, 2 days the following and gradually build up to 4 days per week.
In terms of days worked I now need to try and change little mans days at nursery. I didn’t get the Tuesdays off I was hoping for. There are reasons for this that I can accept, but it probably means losing out on the toddler group unless they can accimadatw me on another day.
I’m trying to be optimistic this evening. I’m telling myself that this is a positive step. Work will give me a focus, give me another reason to get up in the morning. Work will give me back adult conversations and a sense of status. I used to be proud of what I do.
Am I scared?; YES!
Am I catastrophising? YES
Am I fit to return?; only time will tell.
Can I do this?; Both K and CPN would gently stroke my arm and say YES. It has to be YES. There’s no going back now.
What are you going to do, to distract yourself?; it’s a question that i’m often asked. It’s relentless and exhausting!! Activity after activity after activity, all so that I’m not alone with my thoughts.
Today I dusted off our PS4 and whipped out Call of Duty. Psychologically speaking, sitting all day in front of our telly shooting machine guns is maybe not the healthiest. As a distraction however; it worked for a while. My eyes are tired now though, and I’m stuck on a level that’s frustrating me.
There’s a few more hours yet to kill before bed. What will I do now?
There are pills on my kitchen window sill and a dressing gown cord that I’ve been eyeing up lately in my bedroom. Half my head is shouting, just do it, DO IT NOW! The other half is reaching out for hope; YOU WONT ALWAYS FEEL LIKE THIS.
I am sooo tired……and scared……and alone……..
I was given yet another dosage increase today. A schedule of two antidepressants, a mood stabiliser, sleeping aids, 16 sessions of psychology, once weekly supportive chats………….and none of it’s working. My arms are raw and sore (and stink!), my stomach is rumbling since I expelled this evenings dinner, and I’m feeling defeated.
At the midpoint of my psychology journey with K, I was informed that she writes a letter to her patients at the end of therapy. I should have been given this in our last session togethar but she admitted not being in the right frame of mind to complete it, and thus it would be posted to me.
Since our ending, I have been waiting desperately for that letter, and today it arrived.
At first read, I was angry with her. It seemed to me, to be to clinical in nature, and the lecturer in me couldn’t help but get annoyed by the typos and grammatical errors. Had she rushed it? At first read I couldn’t find the optimism, kudos and words of encouragemt that I had hoped for from K. At first read, my failings, stupid behaviours and inadequicies jumped from the pages, mocking me. I almost ripped it up and threw it in the bin.
I’ve since been to the gym, and upon returning home, I’ve given it a 2nd read. The letter is indeed a truthful representation of our journey together, and under careful scrutiny it does contain some kudos.
What I’ve learned from this letter and my expectations of it; is that there were some issues around transference that we never dealt with. In short I was expecting a letter from a “friend”; but I received one from a “therapist”
I really miss K, and I suspect this feeling will last for some time yet. She was awesome. I will keep the letter and remind myself to focus on the positives contained within it.
I’ll be honest, I wasn’t sure I’d keep blogging after hospital discharge, but I find it therapeutic.
Thank you, to all off you who follow my blog, keep my hits counter ticking over, hit like on my posts and make me feel a little less alone in this world.
I have good days and bad days, switching from suicidal to hopeful, but I do want to get better.
The gym sessions, the cycle rides, the coffee dates, and today’s return to the toddler group are all about improving my physical and mental fitness. I have developed some good habits and held tightly to some bad ones, but I’m learning gradually to be a little kinder to myself.
I’m also more determined now to find activities or hobby’s that are just for me, that will break the cycle of Mum first, lecturer 2nd and exhausted 3rd.
My return to work is edging closer now, and I know the dangers of not putting myself first from time to time.
Be kind to yourself today, even if you’re faking it, you deserve something nice. We all do.
This is something, I’m going to be working on in therapy. It’s so much easier to be compassionate towards others. I went into full blown work (student support aspect) mode last night and spent over an hour listening to the woes of another patient in here. I showed her lots of compassion, so much so that she thanked me for it this morning.
Why is it so difficult to show the same care towards ourselves. At the moment I hate myself. I hate the fact that I didn’t pick up on Little man’s potential difficulties sooner. I hate the fact that I’m in hospital not caring for him. I hate the fact that I’m failing as a mother and partner. I hate the fact that I still feel suicidal. What kind of selfish horrible person considers ending their life when they have a little man with potential ASD. Who would fight for him if I were absent?? Not OH, he’d not push for anything. Grandparents maybe, but he’d have less access to interventions in their countryside upbringing. My head is so conflicted again.
So lets focus on my homework. Focus on compassion. I’ve been given a “developing compassion for yourself” stabilization pack. I do love when these things are given a good acronym. In this case; SAFE
So I’m going to be learning to have Sympathy for myself, Acceptance for my differences, Forgiveness for my mistakes and Empathy, in order to understand better my own feelings.
Lets see how this goes.