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’
Last night sleep wasn’t the best. It’s a running theme this week on the blog. Friend U has work so is up early and amazingly brings me tea in bed! I wonder, could I move in with them if this is the service? I need to head out early anyway so after they’ve left, I am up, more dry shampoo (Friend offered use of the shower but hey, why ruin this beautiful bond with Baptiste?) and I am heading to Mums. Sister has bought a chair that needs collecting and muggins over here is said chairs chauffer. Mum is also having some building work done so I am there to appease her it’s ok – it is ok; no, the colour does look good; yes, it really did need doing; etc etc etc. I’m tired and now have some oil on me thanks to Sister’s chair. This is not helping my mood. Mum is heading out to meet friends so I drop her at the station. She tells me she’s coming to London to see Sister’s new house tomorrow, why don’t I join them. I heavily caveat it with it’ll depend on how I feel plus, I am meant to be seeing Friend ML tomorrow.
I deposit newly acquired multi-coloured chair at Sister’s having given it a nice ride along a motorway, with air conditioning and no jerky movements. It also had the luxury of listening to Radio 2 with me. Sister wants me to come in but I’m not in the mood. In fact, I’ve just realised I am cross at her. I tell her I am in a rush so need to go. It’s a lie. I am not in a rush. Yes, I should get the glasses fixed today but I am so tired I know I am going to go home and sit on the sofa. I have a psychiatrist appointment at 18:20 (yes, really, on a Friday night, I am so rock n’ roll!) which I may imply is earlier in the day than it is. The petrol tank is low, not yet amber warning low but still, very low. This month’s budget doesn’t have any wiggle room so fingers crossed I don’t need to drive again before pay day!
Back in the safely of my little nest, it’s not going to be a huge surprise to you to read that I sit on the sofa and don’t move much. Today’s 30 days of happiness challenge is to list 10 things I do well. This challenge is meant to make me happy, not feel like shit. I don’t know what 10 things I do well. I do ‘not washing’ well, I do ‘dry shampoo hair styling’ well but I’m guessing that’s not what today’s challenge is looking for.
I then get a sudden spur of energy and decide that the cluttered flat is impacting my mind. I tackle a food cupboard that is hiding some very out of date cans of food. It’s awful seeing how much needs to be binned but, oh wow, it makes a difference. I tidy it up ensuring that the cans, bottles and spices are all facing forwards and in date order of what needs using first. This is positive.
Before I know it, it’s time to head out to my appointment. Given turning up in pjs is not the look of someone who is out of hospital, I get changed too! The sky looks like it’s threatening to rain, I just need to it hold off long enough for me to walk the 10 minutes at the other end of the bus stop. It appears the rain Gods are listening to me and I make it inside without so much of a drop of rain. My shoes and I are very grateful.
I’ve said before that I feel a bit like seeing my psychiatrist is a bit like going to an exam having not revised. I want to prove to her I am a ‘good’ patient, one that is getting better at the ‘correct’ rate and that I am not being a ‘problem’ patient. I’ve also said before that because of this belief, I may (a.k.a definitely do) withhold some information from her. Why ruin an old habit by changing today? We talk, I cry a little and leave feeling confused. I know I should tell her everything but what if I come across as really crazy? The kind of crazy that can’t be fixed. The session ends with Dr. E having to instruct me to relax. Apparently, this is something I should be doing, unfortunately, I seem to be missing the ‘relax’ component of my brain.
Once home, and having managed to avoid any rain, I message Colleague. They are in discussions to head back to work. What? How? When? This person started their sick leave after me, how are they now ahead of me in recovery terms? This doesn’t seem fair. I don’t want to be over taken. I should be the one going back first. These thoughts go around and around like little children on a merry go round. I get increasingly worked up and stressed. In fact, let’s just throw in a panic attack for good measure.
Before I know it, I am sat in the dark, wondering what the hell has happened to my life and how the hell I get out of this mess. In today’s post, I received a Treat.direct box. What a genius invention this is. Not only is it post that isn’t a bill, it’s edible. The sweets become my supper whilst I continue ruminating on the failures in my life. I am meant to be meeting Friend ML tomorrow for a walk, scones and a catch up. But. Yes, the ‘B’ word. I don’t want to see Friend ML tomorrow, I want to spend the weekend hiding please. It’s not personal, it’s that my mind is such a scrambled mess tonight, I literally can’t think straight. I’d love to tell you all that I called on the techniques learnt in hospital and did some self-care. I’d love to tell you I took my meds and went to sleep early. But, (yes, the ‘B’ again), I didn’t. I stay up too late, don’t take my meds and then have an awful night’s sleep. Night is way too much of an exaggeration. I fell asleep at 02:30 and then woke up at 04:15. I made it back to bed at 06:30 on Saturday morning for a couple more hours of disturbed slumber. Heads up guys, Saturday’s post isn’t looking like it’ll be a good day!
The very exciting treat.direct box!