It’s not going well. So far I’ve barely been out of bed. The depression feels two pronged. I’m down anyway, I’m grieving my marriage, and I’m conscious that I have to start from scratch back in NZ. I feel such an aching sadness and an oppressive sense of overwhelming anxiety at my future.
Life just feels impossible at the moment.
My dad has just tried to talk to me about my plans and I know he’s concerned that I’m not going out or doing anything. I do try and make plans in my head, but in reality I can’t face the days, the people, the decisions and the sense of not belonging.
I’m not doing my children any service by being here and being the same as I was in NZ. This trip needs to be worth our separation. I’m scared of going back and being the same. I can’t let them down.
And yet, I just feel no joy. No purpose. No sense of identity.
When I go back to NZ, I’ll be living on welfare until I get a job. The prospect alone is depressing.
How has my life tumbled into such a chaotic mess?
I’m going to see if I can find a GP here to refer me to a psychiatrist. Maybe I need some different medication. Maybe I need some hope that something can change.