Struggling

I feel in a sense of limbo. I had told the psychiatrist that I wasn’t sure if my mood would be affected by the anniversary so it would be best to meet within a couple of weeks again to review my situation objectively. Because I take managing my mood disorder seriously. Low and behold I get an appointment card through the post – redirected, they STILL haven’t updated my change of address details at the end of March. I suppose I should be grateful I received anything at all.

I feel my mood had slumped overall. Physically I don’t feel myself. The skin on my hands is torn open and poses a constant risk to infection, no amount of creams has helped and I realise a dr visit is due but I just can’t find it in me to see her. I know my cholesterol requires medication it’s pinged up twice in blood tests as dangerously high and my husband pokes at my moles frowning convinced they’re growing into a small village. For the grand finale my period has arrived in style this month. Painfully heavier than it has been for a long time. Sometimes I find my menstrual cycle can be quite triggering.

A few nights ago I had this terrible nightmare where I thought I had awoken quite sleepy and my own husband forced himself on me. Then I awoke for real a bit confused and upset.

Yesterday evening we had guests over for dinner. The whole day leading up I was a terrible anxiety driven bag of nerves. People in my home? Where would I hide? I couldn’t disappear if it got too much? I had to rely on diazapam to keep me calm. I worried how I could keep my happy, hosting face on, when i all wanted to do was crawl into bed.

The female guest last night asked after my mental health, how I was doing. We spoke very matter of a fact. She’s expressed her discomfort before at talking about anything to do with my mental health or my past. So I’m impressed that she at least tried. We talked like we were discussing discount deals at the supermarket. She commented I should go on a walk with her. I smiled. Chat over. Our husbands were outside drinking beer. In my head I felt like saying, a walk? Some days I can barely get out of bed. My husband had to take my own kids to school. You know I dreamt he raped me the other night? I think I’m losing it. I’m stuck in a perpetual nightmare at the moment. I’m holding on as best I can. I take my pills, I TRY to see a psychiatrist. The only reason I’m not breaking down and crying to you is because I know you don’t want to hear it. It’s ugly and it’s inconvenient. So let’s drink our drinks and pretend everything is normal. I’m used to it, I have my four children. I’m used to swallowing it all down.

The evening, don’t get me wrong, was lovely. But I was thoroughly exhausted. Today I slept most of the day.

I realise I’m still in this shitty month. And I’m apprehensive about starting uni in a couple of weeks. Medication does blur the mind somewhat and make it harder to think. But then so do mood swings so I can’t win either way. Also commuting into the city and being around groups of people. Talk about out of the frying pan into the fire. It’s definitely going to be a sink or swim outcome.

But the fact remains im miserable. Lost in old memories, bad sleep, feeling vulnerable. I desperately don’t want my mood to dip any further. I feel I’m dangerously on the edge and its place I can’t visit again.

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2 thoughts on “Struggling

  1. I am so sorry. We do seem to be on this path–as hellish as it is– together. It always amazes me how parallel our experiences & pains are… Especially now. I wish so much to lighten your load & remind you that you aren’t alone. I’m at my ropes end, but me have a deal, remember my friend. Be kind to yourself please… You are stronger than the pain. Hugs…

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