Ghosts & Crystal Balls

My self-care foundations are being made and I am pleased to share the below report card (yes, I’ve made myself an actual report card because, a) I am me and b) well, it’s nice to get positive recognition, even if that comes from me, to me):


  • Teeth – twice a day: Day 9
  • Eat 2 healthy meals a day: Day 10
  • Take AM and PM Meds: Day 10
  • Wash my face twice a day: Day 10
  • Bath or shower: Day 10
  • Drink 2l of water: Day 8
  • Get up at 0630: Day 8


Why then am I feeling so low? The answer to this is right in front of me. Literally. I am sat in the study and over the top of my laptop stand, I can see the outside world. The key thing missing from this foundation building structure is leaving the house. I’ve not left since physio on Friday morning. I can identify a couple of causes but not all of them.


Today, I’m trying to face up to the fact Wales may actually be happening. I’ve started writing in my journal topics I believe need airing with Father. I had to stop at lunch time because it became too difficult. It needs finishing but I needed a few hours break from it. During said break, I opened my post. MISTAKE! My health insurance are stating they will not cover 5 days of day care back in May. What? And why has it taken so long for them to figure this out? I call the hospital and after being transferred from person to person 3 times, I finally have a list of all the dates they have billed for. It’s crazy that a hospital that is meant to be making me less crazy hasn’t been able to keep track of my attendance therefore making me feel crazy (that’s a lot of ‘crazies’ in that sentence). At hospital, inpatient or day care, we had to sign into every session. This isn’t rocket science. Me being, well, me… I enter all the data into an excel spreadsheet, I cross reference the dates and my meticulously maintained calendar and realise they have billed for days I didn’t attend, they haven’t billed for days I did attend and they’ve incorrectly billed for the last 5 days. In case I wasn’t sure if my anxiety was still there, this exercise reminded me that, oh, yes, there it is. If I were seeing Therapist L, she’s tell me to say that aloud. Acknowledge it and then say, ‘yes, you are there. That’s ok but I am going to move on as this will be sorted’. Can I though? No. Talking to my cats all day long is one thing but talking to me? That’s a step too far. I know I am in the right about this. I’m not being arrogant, but for those of you who’ve read the blog for a while know, I was so worried about the hospital bills that I checked, doubled checked and treble checked my agreed insurance coverage many a time (normally worrying about it at 0200 whilst sat in the dark). I send my colour coded, comment noted excel to the hospital finance department and await their response. I know, deep down, this will get sorted but it’s really upsetting me. It’s a big bill and now I feel like it’s hanging over me.


Next up on the ‘Why am I feeling like I need to cry’ list is friendship insecurities. It only hit me that I’d been able to accept I’m loved by friends when the insecurities came slamming back a few weekends ago. I’d gone to stay with friends and I felt such a burden. It was nothing they said or did, I’m certain it was all in my head (like so much else of what upsets me) but that feeling of being an outsider was crushing. Yesterday it came back again. I’m reading too much into some messages and overly worrying about what they really mean. What they really mean is probably nothing. They wanted to say hi, so they said hi. They didn’t purposely ignore the question, they forgot etc.


So, what next? I am going to finish writing my journal ahead of Thursday’s departure, it’s going to be tough but it needs unloading from my brain and put onto black and white. There are ghosts hidden inside me that still control me. They still torture me, bully me and hold me back. I am then going to have a healthy supper (I cooked sea bass for lunch and was so proud of myself, I may have sent a picture of it to Friend GG, dinner is hopefully an equally great culinary experience), watch a movie, shower and go to bed. Tomorrow I have no choice but to venture into the outside world. I have physio and I need my prescription before Wales. I know that bad days happen to everyone, I get that it’s ‘Normal’ to not be ok 100% of the time. The thing I am struggling with is hopelessness and helplessness about what’s next. Why am I here? Why should I keep going? If you have a crystal ball or somehow received the manual to my life, please do let me know!

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