Wedding Bells and Burgers

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’



Friday morning and I can’t get moving. I am due to be going into day care today but I am not sure about it. If I got up now, I could shower, drive and park and get there on time…(30 minutes later) If I got up now, I could dry shampoo, drive and park and get there…(30 minutes later). If I got up now, I could shower, taxi it and be there… (30 minutes later) If I got up now, I could shower, go with wet hair by taxi…(30 minutes later) If I got up now, I could dry shampoo and taxi it there. Nope, can’t do it. It’s officially too late for me to get up and get there. I have some online orders which will be returned if I don’t go to get them today. I’d stupidly (sensibly) had them sent to the shop or pick up points so I would HAVE to leave the house. Bugger. Well, now it’s too late, let’s stuff any attempt not to binge by having the ¾ donut from yesterday. Warmed for 15 seconds in the microwave and it’s a delight. I am so pleased Friend ML took the other one as I could have instantly tucked into that if it were still here.


I hit up the sofa and whatsapp hospital friends. It’s not fair to have them worrying. I tell them I will try to get in for the afternoon group. By messaging this to them, I feel more accountable to actually try and do it. I sit on the sofa watching something rubbish on TV and not taking any of it in. My phone beeps. It’s my psychiatrist. She’s put in an application to my work and insurance to extend my day care and it’s worked. Not only worked but they’ve agreed to 10 more days. This basically amounts to a month when they are spread out. Wow. Ok, well, the practicalities of this are worrying me but given the extension, maybe I can get up and get moving to go to today’s afternoon group.


Another reason today is not fun and incredibly hard is today is the day my sister should be getting married if their license has been issued with no problems. I’ve not heard from them since they arrived in NYC. I am missing her like crazy. I wouldn’t have necessarily seen her had she been at home but we’d have sent a lot of texts.


Right, no, I am not going to dwell on their wedding, I am going to get up, showered and get to day care. Come on Patient C, you CAN do this. Up, showered, teeth brushed, hair dried I even decide to drive to day care rather than taxi it. I arrive and I’m early. This is great. Also, the parking is really cheap, only £5 for the next 3 ½ hours. This is a lot cheaper than a taxi. As I park I get a message from my sister. The wedding is on and it’ll be taking place at c. 1800 tonight. Oh, my gosh.


Group starts and there is another new patient. We are only a small group and neither patient I was worrying about are here. I know they wrote me a letter telling me they were proud of me but I wanted to see them in person. For some reason, I think if I see them in person, I will actually believe they don’t hate me or think I am bad. We start check in and I state I wished Patient L3 and M2 were here. I also state that I am worrying about the practicalities of an extension to my day care. This means I won’t be going back to work until at least May. Shit. Friend ML has told me to stop worrying about that, I need to be selfish and take the time I need to get better but what about my manager? What will she think? This was only meant to be 1 week, it’s rapidly turned into 3 months once the extension of day care is up. Finally, I start crying (it’s still only check in!) that my sister’s wedding is in 4 hours and I am sat here having to deal with supporting mum. I don’t feel strong enough.


Just as I finish, Patient L3 walks in. It’s 7 minutes past and Therapist J says she’s too late. I have mixed feelings about this. I really wanted to see Patient L3 and be able to talk to her to check she really doesn’t hate me after Wednesday however, the hospital has rules about being late to group. It’s not allowed and if late, you shouldn’t join the group. Patient L3 is clearly frustrated at not being allowed in and walks off. The room is silent for a couple of minutes before she comes back, begging to be allowed in. Therapist J maintains the position that she’s late and that’s that. Patient J3 has strong feelings about this and states he’s cross at Therapist J now and that he’s worried what Patient L3 will do. Then, he gets up and walks out.


Wow, ok. I hate confrontation and I didn’t need this whilst already feeling vulnerable. Therapist J wants to check how we are all feeling. I’m honest, stuff if the remaining 2 patients hate me as a result… I am pleased. Why? Because he’s enforced the rules and that makes me feel safe. I don’t like it when rules are broken. I find it very stressful. Whilst I’d really wanted to be able to talk to Patient L3, it was the right thing to do.


Group feels a bit like it’s fallen apart over the last 10 days. We were a tight knit group but now there seems to be so much uncertainty.


Patient G and Patient L5 take up most of the group. I don’t mind at all, I chip in to help a bit where I can. Therapist J also says a useful quote:


Depression shuts us down to force us to pay attention to something we are ignoring


This is so true. I really like helping the other patients so I’m really ok with not having time. With 10 minutes to go though, Therapist J turns it onto me. I start crying, thankfully not snotty nose crying though. I also get angry which takes me a bit by surprise. Therapy is interesting as I’ve often not realised what I am saying until I say it. Out stumble the words that I am fed up of parenting my parents. Wow. Ok, this is true but I don’t think I’d thought about this until the words have escaped my mouth. If they could just be adults about all this, if they could just be our parents for once, this could have been avoided. Therapist J tells me it’s ok to be upset about this situation, it’s a valid emotion for what’s going on.


Group finishes and Patient G and Patient L5 say thank you to me, apparently, I really helped them. That means a lot to me.


Right, now group is over, let’s go get the books I ordered. I do it, and forgot that I’d ordered 6 books. I have no clue when I’ll get around to reading these given my inability to concentrate right now but hey ho. Next up, I drive to the next station where I’ve had some rather large sized clothes delivered so I can feel comfortable whilst I start to try to face binging/ weight loss. This is frustrating, I am really unfit. I am also getting a blister from my new trainers. I go to get the final delivery parcel and walk past a foodie market. Keep walking Patient C, you promised Friend ML you wouldn’t restock your hoard. Final item collected and I see one of the market stalls is a cinnamon roll store. Oh, I can’t resist cinnamon. As I walk closer, I see they also see donuts. Friend ML, I’m sorry – I buy a box of 6. Back at the car and I’m in a bad mood. So, what does every binge eater do when they can’t cope with their emotions? Yes, I binge. McDonald’s drive thru for one it is. Let’s be completely honest and state I also bought 3 tins of biscuits whilst collecting my parcels.


I get home and only take a couple of things up to the flat. If I leave some items in the boot, I’ll have to go outside tomorrow. I tuck into my gourmet dinner and then have 2 donuts. No I don’t need 2, I don’t even need 1 but tuck in I will. My phone beeps. My sister is in line at the court house. They also send me a picture. They both look so happy and my sister looks absolutely stunning. I always knew she would but wow, she’s beautiful. I am sad. I wish I was there.


Today has been exhausting so I head to bed. I get a call from my sister confirming I now have a brother-in-law and she’s now a Mrs. Oh my darling, I am so happy for you. I head to sleepsville feeling really upset.



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