Rest And Relax – Or Not

This is a blog about depression. If you are easily offended or take offence to my very sarcastic humour, please do not read any further. Mental illness is not a joke; it is not something to point fun at and I fully understand that. BUT…when the going gets tough, sarcasm and humour is my defence and so I will be parading it around all over this blog.

 

If you need help, please get it. Whilst I hope this has a happy ending, I don’t know yet and given I’ve not been able to fix myself, I really don’t want others using this as a ‘How To Be Happy for Beginners v2.0’

 

 

I’m in double digit days! Day 10. This is exciting, excepts it’s not as I feel crap and want to go back to London. It took ages to fall asleep last night so now I’m feeling very tired and somewhat numb. This is a spa, come on! This should feel amazing.

 

Breakfast is a tad rushed and it really sparks my anxiety. Anxiety I didn’t even know I had until it was labelled. So that’s what the sick, tingly, twisted feeling I’ve been getting is called. After breakfast, we have a treatment, full body exfoliation and massage. This is a blessing as it means I don’t have to speak for 50 minutes. I try and call on the body scanning technique to stay in the moment and enjoy this. It helps and I only have to remind myself to relax 10 times. I head back to the room and crawl under the duvet when it’s over. My aunt and sister return but only for a few minutes and then I am left to my own devices to fall asleep again. It’s a brilliant. I can sleep with no obs and no relatives snoring!

 

I join them for lunch but I’m not that hungry. I also have an overwhelming compulsion to purge. I don’t but I don’t like that these compulsions are back and so loud. I’ve already lost a tooth, damaged my nose and had a mass on my liver because of my eating disorder, I can’t really afford for anything else to go wrong. I mean that literally as well, a tooth implant costs >£3,ooo! We have a facial after lunch so hopefully some self-care will help me back into a positive frame of mind.

 

The facial is bliss. I reach that happy stage of not quite asleep but not fully awake either. My skin has been horrible with the mix of meds so this feels so good. Bonus, it’s also 50 minutes not 25 minutes! The DREAM. I head back to the room as I’m feeling a bit overwhelmed. My aunt has no clue I’ve not been at work and the spa, whilst relaxing, is draining me. My sister and aunt head back to the thermal rooms and I take an hour out for myself. Ok, is this distraction or self-care? This is tough as I’m not sure. I need a dictionary to help me with the definitions – maybe I should write one!

 

I read the news, send some messages (I’m appalling at replying right now – if you’ve sent me one, I will get around to replying at some point) and just sit on the bed. This is when I give myself a kick up the arse. This is a distraction and it’s time to go back down to the spa. Come on, you CAN do this. It’s strange because I wondered if the hospital, and the other patients, are perpetuating me feeling so low. I wondered if getting out of that environment would lift my mood. It’s with frustration that it dawns on me that I still feel crap even when outside the hospital. I don’t want to be in hospital but I’m equally not ready for the outside world.

 

Back in the thermal rooms and I’m pleased I’ve pushed on through. My sister follows me around though. I don’t want to be mean and tell her I need some space but equally, I need her to understand I am still the same me. Kind of. Somewhere deep inside. We spend most of the time skirting round the topic of me but in the candlelit float pool (yes, there is such a thing and I can tell you, it’s wonderful) she reaches for my hand. Human contact is hard for me, I don’t feel I deserve a hug but I sit with this feeling and let her. She needs it and it’s not harming me. I’m nervous about being readmitted tomorrow and how my sister will cope but right now, I just need to keep going.

 

So, I am sure you’ve all be wondering, what about the teeth situation. Well, I know I’m struggling as I’ve not done them. Not once since Tuesday night and today is Thursday. Bugger. I have showered and done my hair though. I mean it’s hard not to when you’re in water, steam rooms and saunas all day so I’m not overly positive that the showers count as a win.

 

Bubbles in the room again and more time catching up with my aunt. I can’t fully recall what our conversation was about. I zone out at times, more frequently than I care to admit, this is one of those times. There is some exciting news though (for me, unlikely to be exciting for you unless you are the friend in question), a friend wants to come see me on Monday! Yay! If you know anyone in hospital right now, psychiatric or not, go see them! It makes such a difference. Don’t stay for hours on end and don’t be nervous, just be you and spend a bit of time with them. It really does mean the world.

 

Dinner is next and I have chilli prawns with cucumber ribbons (pretentious speak for cucumber sliced length ways); Braised beef with lentils and then my absolute favourite… BAKEWELL TART! It’s amazing. We consume more wine than the night before and it’s giving me a bit of Dutch courage to tell my aunt the truth about what’s been going on. I try a few times, but quickly clam up. I don’t know how she will take it. I don’t want her to dismiss this as me being silly. I have a few opportunities but don’t seize on them until my sister goes for a breath of fresh air (a.k.a. a cigarette!). My aunt asks what I am doing on Saturday and that’s when I word vomit… I’ll be in a psychiatric hospital. My aunt looks at me, the same self-pity mixed with worry look I’ve been getting a lot of recently. Taking my hand, she tells me how she knew something was seriously wrong from the moment I arrived. Great, it would appear that the flashing sign above my head has somehow re-connected and come to the spa with me. She doesn’t belittle it, she doesn’t tell me I am silly, she simply tells me she loves me. I sound like a broken record, I know, but I am amazed at how well people have taken this and how much they want to support me. We stay up talking about the situation and the hospital. My aunt also tells my sister that if being my next of kin is too much for her, my aunt will happily step in. We all agree that my father won’t have a clue how to manage this and for everyone’s benefit, he’s best left out of it. I feel I can take a proper breath now. I also feel relief that my sister has someone strong to support her. Our mum is amazing but not strong enough to deal with the full truth.

 

It’s not the most ideal end to the evening as I hate upsetting people but I know my sister feels better now our aunt is in the know.

 

Bed time, meds and all, and time to not do my teeth and hide under the duvet with the iPad. Let’s hope that telling my aunt will mean I can relax a bit more tomorrow and maybe even brush my teeth before I lose another one!

 

 

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