Sleep, Party And Repeat

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 am not going in today. Or am I? Oh, I don’t know. I am exhausted, it’s 0915 and I want some porridge. I’ll make a decision after the porridge. Before I know it, the porridge has been eaten and I am on the sofa with a cat on my lap. Ok, a day at home it is. I’ve got some annoying adult life admin to get done, my hair is most definitely in desperate need of a wash, no amount of dry shampoo could fix it and to top it all off, I am going to have to be the smiling happy daughter tonight at mum’s. Even the thought of it exhausts me. I watch a program I’ve recorded and no, I can’t tell you what it was about as I’ve not taken any of it in.

 

After about 90 minutes staring into space, I realise I am doing the ‘fall asleep, head nod’ thing. Right, Patient C, this is silly. You are exhausted. Move the cat off your lap and go back to bed for a nap. I crawl under the duvet and shut my eyes, just for a few minutes, just a little nap.

 

Well, you can all guess that the little nap was in fact a very big nap. 4 ½ hours later, it’s 1530 and I’m only just waking up to the wailing cat outside my bedroom door. So, I must have been very tired! I can’t face the shower just yet so I tuck into the remainder of the biscuits from Wednesdays binge. It’s a mini, half-hearted attempt to binge.

 

I delay getting in the shower until 10 minutes before I am meant to be leaving to collect Sister and Sister’s Husband to drive back to Mum’s. I can’t face it. In fact, if I weren’t the only one who could drive out of Sister, Sister’s Husband and I, I would be seriously considering cancelling. We are going back to celebrate their wedding over supper with family friends. This means I am going to have to plaster on the ‘Normal’ Person C façade rather than the tired and somewhat emotional Patient C that I really am. What am I meant to say if I’m asked how work is going?

 

Family Friend: Hi, Person C, how are you? How’s work these days?

Me: Oh, I’m doing just great thanks. Yes, so great in fact that I was locked in a psychiatric hospital for 32 days and still have to go back as a day patient

[Family friend stands with their mouth wide open whilst Mum drops the ‘best’ glassware in shock that I’ve just broken the perfect daughter facade]

 

Back to the here and now, it’s time to wash my hair, brush my teeth and wash my face. It’s then time for a skirt or three of perfume and time to go get Sister.

 

The drive back mostly consists of chat around Sister’s job interview today. She got it and now needs to decide if she wants to move schools.

 

Once finally back at Mum’s, it takes no more than 5 minutes before she states that I could have made a bit more of an effort with my clothes and can I please take of the hoodie. Bugger, I knew I should have placed a bet with Sister on how long Mum would wait before saying it. Out comes the champagne whilst we wait for family friends to arrive. I can’t drink much whilst highly medicated so I sip very slowly. This is definitely a night where I’d rather be drunk though.

 

The rest of the evening passes in a bit of a blur. I apparently say a few things ‘wrong’ so get a stern word in my ear from Sister. We all dance around the topic of what’s going on with me at the moment, and finally, I clock watch until family friends have gone and I can retreat to my teenage bedroom. Said teenage bedroom has been tastefully redecorated since my departure into adulthood and so has no sentimental attachments other than the stock pile of baby clothes Mum is hoarding in the wardrobe. These are ready to be pulled out as soon as Sister announces she is pregnant. Yes, Mum has even started knitting, ‘just in case’.

 

All in all, today hasn’t been the best. I’m in a weird mood and the last two days have shown me that it’s going to take a while before I have a string of good days all in a row. Sadly, the ‘happiness’ emotion is still precariously hanging on a knife edge.

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