So the shops are now open and people are going friggin crazy, piling up clothes and underwear and homeware and all manner of crap. It’s insane.
I wandered out today for the first time in ages. Apart from my weekly jaunt to the pharmacy to collect my cocktail of meds, I’ve stayed pretty much hidden away from the world. Today has reaffirmed that I wish to stay hidden away forever.
As I walked up the street, entered shops and stood in queues, I could feel a 1000 eyes on me. Real or imagined, it doesn’t matter, the feeling is the same. I felt strange, uneasy and anxious. I wanted to run home, literally run, but I resisted.
Once in the door I reached for my diazepam and a huge tub off ice cream.
I’m eating Orlistat like smarties these days, and especially on days like this………….even though I cycled 21km this morning.
I need therapy, I need help, and I’ve no idea how to get it? I want to talk to someone. I’m bottling up all my insecurities, worries and stress again. My new key worker/CPN is possibly very nice, but I can’t pick up the phone and call her. I don’t know her, or trust her yet. The very first time we spoke, she said she’d check in again in a month, so roughly 2 more weeks to go. How is that helpful?
Come on loopy, your not a child. It’s not up to others to check on you, probe you, or read between the lines. Take control for gods sake!!!!!!!! you useless whimp!!
I feel an explosion coming
I tried, but i fell short. This evening I locked my bathroom door, tied pj bottoms around the shower curtain rail, and threw some knots around my neck. I’d almost got it perfect.
But then the cavalry arrived.
I though I’d have more time. Checks here are scarse at best. Now my clothes have been removed and cupboards cleared. I’ll try again, I’m sure of it.
I’ve come to the very sad realisation that it’s not OH and little man who’d be better off without me. It’s me, it’s me, it’s me who needs to go. I can’t continue any longer pretending to be smashing life when in fact it’s crushing me….
That little voice in my head, “run fatty run, puke fatty puke, burn ugly burn, your a failure, your a waste of space, you difficult and selfish and horrid. Die damn it, do us all a favour and die!!!
I wan’t to run. I wan’t to turn my back on England and all the mysery it has brought me and run!!!! Our landlord is forcing us to move out and yesterday I reciveved a message completely out of the blue, from an old friend who has informed me that his institution back in Ireland are recruiting lecturers. Last week I spoke with my CPN about giving up on everything here and running, and now I’m seeing “signs” that maybe its time to do just that.
Is it crazy to make such decisions now, when I’m so medicated, irrational, depressed and scared. Ireland has a different pace of life, I have family there, support there. I am more comfortable with its schooling system and ways. Would moving home help fix me??? This job is still a 4 hour drive from “home” but at least its the same flipping island. They could visit us, and we could visit them much more easily. Little man could get to know his cousins.
What would OH do? Should we live apart for a while? Would it just bring me the same mysery but in a different city. Should I just face the fact that life is not for me and end it?
I’ve spent today updating my CV.
I really don’t know what to do!!!! I’m sure I won’t secure the job anyway, but its forcing me to think and its stressing me out…………………………
I have work to do. Quite a bit infact and given my recent slow pace, I need to crack on. Try saying that to a two year old!!. He bashed on my labptop keys, grabbed and clawed at my hands, demanded an endless supply of food and drinks and attention and quite frankly made marking assignmnets nion impossible. OH works many weekends and we have no one else to turn to for support on days like this.
Working under these conditions had the sensation of hearing nails on a chalkborad!!. I can’t be all things to all people and its stressing me out. Today I was crap at everything. Extremely inefficient at marking, irritable as heck (my feedback might be a little harsh!) and neglectful as a mother.
On top of that, my mood has been nothing short of erratic. I swung quite violently from alsmost resigning from my job, to suicidal, to hopeful, back to suicidal and so the day went. I’ve eaten far too many carbs in an attempt to find comfort and I’ve burned (Again!)
Last night, i did find sleep on my new regimen but it was broken, and I spent alot of time looking at my watch. I eat more when I’m tired. Tonight I want to knock myself out, but i won’t.
Tomorrow I face another day of nails on a chalkboard.
The heart is a muscle, and a frigging impressive one at that. It beats relentlessly, never tiring or straining. It’s muscle cells have more energy (ATP) factories (mitochondria) than any other cells, and it’s plumbing is phenomonal. Tonight I put mine through its paces.
Tonight I tried with all my might to hit my max heart rate. I topped out at 185, just 2 beats short. I was hot, sweating and pumping my legs as hard as I could, but I failed. In reality it’s possible 185 is my max, as 220 minus your age is just a guide really, but I’m still gutted I couldn’t hit it.
This angst, and anxiety and just general twitchiness is proving really hard to cope with. Even my Mum has noticed; “jeez there’s a steer on you this evening!”
She’s here at the moment, but honestly I kind off wish she wasn’t. I desperately want to burn.
The weather has dipped, and you know what?, so has my mood. I’m tired, but twitchy, which is odd I shall induce sleep soon.
I’m completely wiped out. I’ve spent all day marking, which took twice the time it should have. I guess I’m a little rusty.
My phased return does feel a little fast though. I did pluck up the courage to tell my boss, but I’ve still agreed to do a little more than I feel comfortable with.
I’m also ridiculously emotional. I almost cried on the train home, fighting back tears the entire journey.
I guess I’m a little overwhelmed. On the bright side I shall attempt sleep tonight without my trusty sleeping pills. I’m that tired!!!
The battle lines were drawn. He glared at me steadfast, and confident. There was only ever going to be one winner here.
No I will not use a spoon today Mummy! I will eat my beef and mash on my terms, or I shall starve!!!!!
You’ve got to admire the stubberness off a 2 year old. We can usually count on him to swallow grub without protest, handling cutlery like a pro.
Some battles are worth fighting and simetimes when sleep depruved and alone it’s just easier to wait whilst this little human, slowly and infuriatingly sucks beef and mash from a 5ml paracetamol syringe.
This evening would be spent powerhosing every nook and cranny of his little pudgy arms and legs. There was much fun had running and rolling down sand dunnes and I knew that he would harbour kilograms of the stuff and gleefully sprinkle it on kitchen tiles, staircase carpets and bedroom floors upon our return home. I will deal with that tomorrow!!!
Now though, it’s bath time. A whiff of something in the air indicated the need for a gentle pre wipe. I whipped his nappy off, dealt with his thoughtful little gift, and stood him, bare bummed and smiling by our bath.
I quickly nipped out to grab his PJ’s and upon my return, there they were, glistening and golden on my bathroom floor;
3 little puddles………….
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!!!
This week is proving rather stressful. I’m trying to stay level headed and rational but it’s difficult. Everything always seems to pile up on me, at once;
I’m going back to work on Thursday which is momentous in itself, but then throw in a psychotherapy assessment on Wednesday morning followed by an introduction to the lady who’s taking over as my CPN in the afternoon. Also I recieved an email this morning asking me to complete a work stress assessment form from my manager.
There’s too much to think about, too many worries to juggle and I’m not in the form today for any off it. Little man’s at home with me and I’m struggling.
I need to order my meds again and I can already see that the doses are wrong on the GP’s system AGAIN!!! They screw it up EVERY TIME My surgery are totally incompetent!
I don’t have the energy to sort it out today.
God this day needs to end. I’m home alone and I don’t do so good alone.
I can’t keep doing this. The binging, the purging, the self hatred and the relentless scheduling of activities to fill my day. My head is so fuzzy and I’m so tired.
I need to knock myself out for a while, so sweet dreams people.
I honestly don’t care if tomorrow never comes. It will come though, and this hamster wheel will continue to spin.