Today my mind is very thick in fog.  I’m tired despite dozing on and off.  The kids won’t allow me a good nap of course, and I want to keep on top of the mess so S doesn’t come back to a messy house.  But everything just feels so heavy and moving feels so uncomfortable.  Last night I had another nightmare.  I am anxious and I know memories are trying to poke their way through, but I refuse to burdened by PTSD symptoms when my kids are around relying on me.

In my need to provide entertainment for the kids friday night, I showered, dressed and took them to the DVD store in town.  Yes, some of us still use that archaic form of movie watching!  Doesn’t help that NZ only gets movies into the cinema long after the rest of the world has them on DVD!  It’s a long wait for new releases!  They seemed to appreciate this, although I constantly barked at them to hurry up.  I felt like everyone was watching me and judging me.  Even though I’m sure that’s not the case.  I just feel so paranoid.

I got a couple of movies myself which turned out, as usual, to be total flops.  So I have opted for an early night, but the kids aren’t settled, they’re in weekend mode, and it’s quite disconcerting to be surrounded by a thick fog.  We usually see the lights of the town in the valley below – this house is on a mountain, but there is nothing.  Can barely see my hand in front of my face out on the deck.  My daughter noticed it at first.  Like the scene from a zombie Apocalypse, the valley has been eaten.  We remain isolated up here! – ok, those thoughts probably won’t help before bed, and no I have not mentioned those thoughts to the kids!

S gets back some time tomorrow afternoon.  I’ll be sad to leave the house to be honest.  Its been nice to have the warmth, light and company of the kids.  Even though it has felt hard at times.  Its given me something and reminded me of how precious my little people are.  Not that I really needed reminding!

I hate feeling so anxious, so alone with these feelings and so separate from the human race.  Like I am in this bubble that keeps me a layer apart from everyone else.  If I could be put into a coma like state and to ride this period out, I would take it in a second.  At least no one would be privy to these moods and I wouldn’t need mammoth effort to get through each day.

As usual with the low, I’m putting on a lot of weight very rapidly.  S keeps the house stocked, and I am left with terrible carb cravings from the drugs – i feel this every time they’re introduced, I’m not moving, and I’m really very bloated.  This of course adds to my self loathing.  Of course I’ve no intention with doing anything remotely like exercise, although often in the night I think about my plans for the following day.  Such steel determination in the night.  Wrapped up warm in bed, all cosy and sleepy.  Everything is much easier to imagine.  But come day, the light is unforgiving, everyone feels like a threat.  Every awful outcome becomes a reality, and my anxiety leaves me breathless.  So I don’t want to exacerbate the situation.

Next week, I have booked a hair appointment.  Whether I stick to it or not remains to be seen.  But my awkward pixie cut grow out looks more like a man’s dodgy haircut now, and the colour is grim and my roots are showing.

One more week off until university starts again.  That’s one more week to get through the worst of it, to get back to my routine and be able to concentrate again, working to deadlines.




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