Today I looked up DIGNITAS I wanted to know if they’d take ‘clients’ that were mentally at the end of their tether. I felt I’d meet the criteria quite well considering my exhaustive list of medications, therapy and prolonged low mood. But apparently it’s only for people with a terminal or extremely painful physical illness. I suppose in assessing me they’d probably decline my application on the basis that I have four children. Yes, I get that makes me selfish etc.

I’m not particularly suicidal in as much as nothing really appeals to me. I’ve tried overdosing and even medical professionals were surprised I lived, so clearly that isn’t going to work. Hanging, no way I don’t want to choke to death – it can take 10 minutes! Slashing wrists, ouchie, and I don’t have a bath. Jumping off a building – how terrifying would those last few seconds be? And jumping in front of a train, I’m not sure id have the guts (pardon the pun) besides it’s not fair on the driver. Now, if I lived in the good ole US of A, I’d have access to a myriad of weaponry and could shoot myself. Easy. People do it by accident over there all the time. But I’m not there. And we don’t have a gun problem in NZ.

I know why I’m miserable, it’s my own fault and kind of a chemical imbalance too, I’m not entirely to blame. The week has been extremely emotional, stressful and as my CPN said, I’ve had two major life changing events in a week. To cope with the emotional fall out, I stayed on Steve’s couch. I stayed at the house I love, with my kids, with the light and the noise and the warmth. And I know at this point a majority of people will moan, roll eyes, and say, why do you do it to yourself? But I felt I was satisfying a deep need to feel safe, secure and amongst the love of my children. I really don’t like my house, the kids don’t like my house, so it’s easier to just stay up there – which I do every time Steve goes away which is usually 1/2 nights per week.

I couldn’t really squeeze another night in, Steve was already getting fed up (bearing in mind he’s also had to be my taxi since my car is stuffed, and as he said, ex husband’s don’t usually do this stuff). I’m relegated to my house. It’s a very cold drafty house. I had to drag an incredibly expensive to run heater into my bedroom last night because even dressed up like I was in Alaska hardly took the edge off and the bloody long walk to the toilet which might as well be outside (it’s a weird add on next to the laundry, like someone forgot) was a march of death. Well, I guess hyperthermia might kill me off. It’s pretty obvious why the kids don’t like my house. And fair enough too.

What am I doing about it? Well, I’m keeping an eye out on the rental market. I can’t bear the thought of another move, but I can’t stand to see my kids look like they’re coming to Alcatraz when they come to mine. I was in such a hurry to secure a home when I got back from England, I wanted something before my parents left. I jumped at the first house offered to me. I shouldn’t have done that. Realistically I could have just stayed at a motel until the right house came along. But it’s just another regret to add to my long list of regrets. Being winter there’s slim pickings, being Wellington there’s a lot of people looking, and the landlords can pretty much charge whatever the hell they want. I met the last tenant that lived here – she was pushed out because the landlady wanted to sell ($100k over RV – which is insane). She didn’t get the sale, no surprise and then I came along to pay a $70 increase in rent! Obviously if I’d known that too, I wouldn’t have been so stupid to eagerly sign the paperwork.

I’m just kind of exisiting really. To take the loneliness and sadness out of today, I’ve read my kindle pretty much all day, taking a break to go to the chemist to get ibuprofen for a headache because I’ve been reading my kindle all day.

I’m a bit lost really. Steve told me I should go back to England. I have to say that was really cutting. Obviously if my children weren’t here I wouldn’t be here. Those 4 months in England were hard without my children. I’m not sure I could move there indefinitely. But that was his advice, bugger off. Of that, I can only dream…


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