In transit

I’m in Dubai now. It’s hot, and I’m sweaty and miserable. I couldn’t get comfy on the flight (I’ve not flown since I got so fat) and the service was pretty abysmal. I’ve flown Emirates back in the 90s and didn’t like it then. But it was part of a special deal. 

Surprisingly I don’t have flu symptoms yet, long haul and flu go together for me.

I’ve just had feelings of dread and regret in the air. I had a long wait in Auckland, and just watched the new series of House of Cards, but I was still in New Zealand so the gravity didn’t really dawn on me. On the flight I knew by each minute I was going further and further from my children. The regret was just as oppressive and added to my claustrophobia. Especially as everyone else had kids on board. The reality also that there will be no more family vacations struck me pretty hard.

So perhaps my intentions were right, reality is already kicking my arse. My marriage is over and there will be no more family holidays. No more S and I managing the kids. I kept having the urge to cry but fought it off. There will be lots of tears when I land. If I ever land. 

I used to love flying. It’s just watching movies and having a waitress! But now it feels painfully long and uncomfortable. My weight is probably a big contributor to that.

You’d think in times of stress I’d lose weight, but instead I get fatter, and I’m not moving much either. The last few weeks have been spent mostly in bed, so the airport transfers alone are making me walk more than I do in a week. 

My anxiety has been really bad. I’ve been shaking and bordering panic attacks. I was a seasoned traveller. I’ve been all over the globe and I used to storm through airports. Now I’m shaking, sweating, my chest is tight from panic. I feel more alone than I ever have. Everything has fallen apart. I don’t know who I am anymore. I’m ashamed of what I’ve become. I see more clearly what S sees when he looks at me and I can understand his disgust. I’m nothing like the girl he married. I’m pretty revolting as it goes, and my passion for life is dead.

I owe my children more than this. When did I become so selfish? When did I let myself go so much? When did I stop living? 

I hate myself, I hate what I’ve become. My children deserve so much more.

I hope that I can find my way back to myself. If nothing changes after this UK trip, after all of this discomfort and hellish travel, I don’t know what I’ll do.

I miss my children and the unconditional love they give me. But I need to be better for them.

More low?

So I wasn’t entirely forthcoming about something else on my blog, something I kept to myself. I saw my GP about reoccurring eczema on my breast and she referred me to a mammogram. I had that today and got the all clear. I didn’t want to write about it because I didn’t want anyone to know. Last night I hardly slept at all thinking about it. Not just the outcome but the test itself. Turns out the test wasn’t painful, it was quick and the woman was really friendly.

To be honest, I couldn’t have fought anything else. I’m on a losing streak with this depression. I can’t face the days, everything overwhelms me, everything is grey. 

Yesterday I had to pick the kids up early again because I had an appointment, this time with the benefits office. They won’t help with the ‘scungey’ flat, so I’m back to square one. I’m now officially homeless. Squatting at my ex husband’s. I honestly don’t think life can get much worse.

All of my crap is in storage, even clothes so I barely change. Goes with my barely showering. I’m a complete shambles.

I just don’t know what to do anymore. I keep being rejected, smacked by the face and pushed down. 

Can’t cope

I can’t cope, I can’t cope, I can’t cope.

I now have 2 interviews this week, one I need to take the kids with me for. I have an appointment at the benefits office and then court on Friday. All this while juggling the 4 kids. I just spent the weekend in bed, how am I supposed to become a functioning adult from that?

I have only heard from one moving company today and they’re booked up until June 7, I can’t possibly justify rent on the cottage and rent on a flat at the same time, but I can’t keep living here with S. My funds aren’t much, so some how I need to get everything into storage and out of here.

As for court, it’s pressing on my mind like a horrible vice, and keeping me short of air. What’s the point of job interviews if I get a conviction. In the middle of all this, I wonder how I can justify a trip back to the UK with all this mess. Although I won’t deny it’s tempting to run away.

I feel like life just got a whole lot more trickier and I need to fulfil more roles, complete more tasks when I’m barely able to function.

I’m completely alone, no one is going to tell me it’s going to be ok. No one in their right mind would look at this mess and say I’ll cruise through this.

I’m worried about my brain in interviews, I’m already slow in my thinking. This could be very embarrassing. And my work history is VERY historical so what examples can I draw on? I’m bound to crash and burn as I do at everything.

I just want to hide in bed. It’s what I do best.

Panicky

I keep having these panic attacks, not on a large scale, but rather I’ll suddenly find myself short of breath and feeling anxious.

It’s been going on for the last couple of weeks. I know the upcoming court appearance has agitated my panic attacks but I also know it’s something deeper than that.

Simply, I don’t have a home. I’m staying with S, but he doesn’t really want me here, I know he’s keen to get me to England and is desperate to know what I’ll do when I get back. Im moving out of the Martinborough house this weekend and putting my stuff in storage. So that makes me technically ‘of no fixed abode.’ And at 36, that’s a pretty terrifying situation to be in.

I will stay in a block of flats when I get back, they won’t be anything special- in fact it would be better that the kids don’t stay. But it’s a good interim place while I try to save some money for my bond and find a better home.

It’s the best I can do as I learn to stand on my own two feet again. I keep feeling pangs of terrible loss. The memories of when ‘everything was normal’ and even swimming yesterday they had ‘mums and bubs ‘ groups that left me yearning for the time my children were just tots and my ex and I were close. When my complaints were about not getting enough sleep and dirty nappies.

I am really quite afraid of this new life I need to carve out for myself. I’ve not been alone for so long. And it hurts that I’m just an overstaying guest in this house. 

Although I’m still technically ‘unwell’ finding full time employment will be of the most utmost importance. I need to be financially grounded. And with the current market as it is, that’s no mean feat.

Sometimes I think going back to the UK is a bad idea because I need to set up here, but then I remember that I have launched from one disaster to another and surely this time out will help – even a bit?

I hate feeling so out of control and so panicky all the time. It’s effecting my sleep and overall wellbeing. But I see my psychiatrist tomorrow, so hopefully more additions can be made and the right dosages made.

Respite. Again.

I’m in respite again. I’m really disappointed that I have a room (the last one available) in the main office. Which is open 24/7, to both men and women that are unstable (like me!) or drug takers. The office worker has the tv on, heating up to the max, and the bathroom is a depressing and shameful walk through the office. As my door is unlocked (no locks) I don’t feel safe. And so my PTSD symptoms are playing havoc. I’m simultaneously depresssed and tired but hyper vigilant and panicked.

There will be constant noise and as those with PTSD will agree, it’s amplified and irritating on an irrational level.

I know I shouldn’t complain, we have a good system here and I’m more fortunate than most to be able to ask for help and anticipate the mental health service will provide for me. But there’s no mistaking that my situation is complex and I struggle to feel comfortable in most situations. Usually I can adapt, but there’s no room for that here.

The two alternatives were to be in my house alone – not good. Or stay at S’s. Which should have been fine (he offered) but the room has no door, as such I don’t tend to sleep well because I hear the kids! And they’re usually up early, so I didn’t anticipate much sleep. Not only that, but why should they all feel my presence like a dark, looming storm? I can’t pretend to be happy, I’m no company to be around. I can’t concentrate so reading and tv is out and again, the noise becomes grating. Especially after a week of full on care.

I’m breathing loudly and shallow, I feel my wolf hearing is on high alert and I wonder if the (male) office worker can hear me breathing. I just want to disappear into the walls. I want to be nothing and no one.

I feel grimy and unclean. I haven’t showered today or brushed my teeth and my clothes are marked. Clear signals that I’m becoming increasingly unstable. 

My case manager asked me today, how will you know you’re well? I’ll shower and dress without hesitation, brush my teeth, drive anywhere I want without fear, stop somewhere for a coffee, chat to my friends. There’s a myriad of such innocuous aspects to my life that are missing. To live freely and without the emotional and mental drain seems alien to me. 

I am my depressionĀ 

When I move my arms and legs it feels like I have sand bags tied to me. My movements feel uncoordinated, heavy, cumbersome and achy. My eyes feel grainy, I rub them but they are still heavy and tired. 

I feel like I am about to have flu, but it’s a  general feeling of malaise, but I know it’s not a virus and deep within me.

I go to do something and then I forget what I was doing and I feel frustrated because I am so forgetful, and then I felt tired and sad and useless.

When I smile it feels strange and unreal. Really my face is screwed up into a ball because I’m often concentrating or rather trying to concentrate because my brain won’t stay on the right track.

Noise, it sounds like nails on a chalkboard board, intermittent noise is make me jump and put me on edge.

People, I can’t do people, I can’t do the crowns I can’t do the stimulation, it’s both drowning and Over whelming.

Nothing makes me feel better, I can rest with a book, but I’m not happy I’m just being, I’m aware of the aches and my body I feel like I’m  100 years old and my bones will snap at the slightest movement.

I sigh a lot, but I’m not relaxed. I often feel out of breath even when I haven’t moved much because my anxiety is so powerful.

Often it feels like everything is going against me, like some force but I can’t control. That is totally irrational and yet a part of me feels and must have some reality.

I don’t know who I am some of the time. I know I am a mother, I am a friend, I am a daughter, I am a sister, I am an ex wife , but I don’t feel like a woman, I just feel like a thing.

Sometimes I can cry over nothing for ages. Sometimes i feel no emotion at all.

Sometimes I feel angry and ashamed

Sometimes I feel confused and scared.

Now it is night time and I’m so tired I want to sleep but I can’t. My brain is going over the bad things I can’t shut down.

I wish I could be nurtured and cared for and loved.

And yet I don’t always like affection it triggers me.

I feel like my one understands me I am a misnomer, and exception, and odd one, and a big contradiction

I am in a major depressive episode. Or is this just me?

I take the pills, I follow my doctors advice, I do everything I can be for the people that need me in the capacity that I am.

And yet I feel like a failure.

How can my life be so full of complications and how come my brain so defunct and useless?

Physical heapĀ 

I’m starting to wonder if my migraines are some sort of psychological symptoms, as opposed to just a normal migraine. I’ve been struggling with my mood recently even more so than normal, and as such my migraines have become a daily occurrence.

This morning I woke up in so much pain despite waking in the night and taking ibuprofen. I ended up having to drive to the chemist to get something stronger. It strikes me as a coincidence that I’m getting these migraines when I’m certainly at my worst physically and mentally.

I gave up my regular swimming and workout routine, because my social anxiety was at such a magnitude I can’t do anything without feeling panicky and anxious. I barely walk anywhere now and I keep my routes direct. Driving and parking in specific areas only.

I feel like my skin is unhealthy, my nails are brittle and breaking really low, my skin is dry, overall I’m just not taking very good care of myself. But I am showering every day which is an improvement, because in previous lows I havent  even been able to do that.

I seem to be able to hide my shoddy appearance. When I go to therapy I make sure I’m smartly dressed and well groomed. It would take a trained eye to notice or someone just willing to spend a bit of extra time to see that my appearance isn’t entirely what it seems. Like a man and in a really nice suit but wearing really bad shoes, with holes, worn down, laces missing etc. How many people would have noticed his shoes? Especially with a big smile and a happy exterior.

Today has been another mission to try to keep on top of the mess of the house. S arrived home really late again from his journey, and I’m absolutely exhausted. I slept most of today I think because of my headache. It was actually a nice sunny day but I just couldn’t face it worried that my headache would get worse/couldn’t be bothered to enjoy the day.

I feel like a functioning heap of crap. The children don’t understand my tiredness and why I  seem so grumpy even I am fed up with myself.

When I think I can fight it and try to do something different I am get chest pain and  shortness of breath and feel that I’m going to do this in public. I’m sick of the panic attacks and anxiety over riding my plans. Add to that my internal monologue where I constantly put myself down.

I feel like I’m failing in every aspect of my life. And what kind of life am i living? between two houses, half a parent to my children. Depending on chemicals to get me through the day, to sleep at night.