Last week I’d spent two nights up speaking with people in the UK. It involved details pertaining to my historical case, so it was emotionally fraught and tiring. I hardly slept. I felt emotional and raw. Lonely in my feelings at trying to deal with it, the past, the memories, the despair and the current day expectations. I decided to miss a lecture at university. Putting my mental health first. Knowing that turning up bleary eyed and anxious would set me off on the wrong footing. Although a good decision I still felt like a loser, a failure.
My husband left on Friday for a stag do so I was home with the four kids. They can at times be helpful. This weekend wasn’t one of them. My son just couldn’t sleep seemingly out of sorts that his Daddy wasn’t home. The girls argued relentlessly. I had to tidy constantly. There was never a break and never a chance for me to catch up on my readings for uni. I try to get a 1-2 hour nap during the day, because of meds and the severity of my bipolar and PTSD issues its like my brain needs that shut down time or else I just get over stimulated by everything and it makes everything ten times worse. Of course, a nap was out of the question. It was full steam ahead. On Saturday I had a terrible migraine as usual with them I was losing vision in left eye and my ear was buzzing. I tried setting the kids up with DVDs, iPads, just about everything but the trail of destruction continued.
On Sunday I had the beginnings of a cold. My mind thinking about the weeks events. The conversations I had with the UK, the university work I was getting behind with – I’m not up to it, I’m not smart enough, who am I kidding? I can’t retain this information. The fact that I have all this anxiety, the fact that I don’t operate normally. The feeling of sheer and utter exhaustion. My husband wanted this to be the making of me, that I would break out of my shell. Find myself or something. That’s all well and good, but he’s not the one reliving things at 2am in the morning. Or walking into a packed room knowing eyes are on you when you get asked a question that I will have to say ‘pass’ to.
My husband got home last night and I was still trying to hold it together. He took it to mean I was stand offish. I was still in survival mode. That night I tried to read my textbook but our son kept coming in. My husband was busy on facebook so I dealt with him and managed to get him to bed. But by that point I was tired and fed up and figured it wasn’t worth carrying on.
In the night I woke up having a panic attack. I went to the bathroom and sat on the loo trying to calm myself. It didn’t even occur to me to wake my husband.
I am drained, I am alone with this.
When I got back to sleep I had a very vivid dream that I was in a head on car collision. And I remember for a brief moment as I anticipated the impact thinking, please let this be it.