Drinking and work

It’s not long until Xmas and I did a really stupid thing last night. I was up at Steve’s as he’s away and I got drunk in the bath. This caused a major meltdown, me wallowing in the bath thinking about how awful 2017 has been and how much I’ve failed. How I must be a great source of disappointment to my family and friends. I sobbed my heart out, having to dive under the water when I heard the kids to wash away the tears.

This is why I avoid drinking. I’m not a good drunk. I either think I’m god reincarnated or scum of the earth. There’s no middle ground. It’s also not good with my meds, I ended up with my head down the toilet most of the night and this morning and a thunderous headache to boot.

Mentally I’ve been stable (ok, aside from that slip!). I’ve been quite content looking after the kids, taking them to the pools, enjoying their company, and enjoying the sunny weather.

And I have a new addition to the family..,

I hadn’t wanted to get a puppy, but in the end decided at least I’d know it’s background and it would be safer with the kids. I met the woman selling them and she was really lovely, this puppy, Ava kind of chose me! She came straight over to me and I adored her instantly. The kids have been great with her and she’s really laid back. In the chewing stage which is annoying, but I’ve bought plenty of toys. It’s nice to have company at mine when the kids aren’t there.

I’ve been in weekly contact with my CPN just to ensure everything is going all right.

The job is really too much for me. The night shifts are really messing me up. Working from 9pm – 7am ruins 2-3 days for me. Quality time I could be with my children. And it throws my medication regime off. I’m also aware that a good sleep routine is paramount to good mental health, and I’m working nights every week, with only a couple of evening shifts. If I’d known the time of the night shifts, I’d never have taken the job. But I’ve tried to find a rhythm and not give up at the first hurdle, but it’s simply not working. I’m looking for something else now. Still only part time, but with consistent hours so I can plan my weeks with the children and no more nights.

I’m really trying to be less of a grinch this year. Just because I hate Xmas doesn’t mean everyone should suffer my wrath!

Not long now until the big day! I’ll be up at Steve’s and we’re having a bbq – traditional Xmas day in NZ.


Lithium and PTSD

So I’m officially back on lithium now. It’s too early to feel the awful side effects, but my psychiatrist reassured me that my mood would stop dipping. So we’ll see how it goes. I’m starting on 1000mg increasing after a week. I’m still keeping my other medication which I’m hoping to reduce over time because I’m now on so many pills.

My PTSD reared up spectacularly recently. My car was making a hideous noise to the point I was panicking while I drove it. I made it to Steve’s house and asked to borrow his car. I begged him to call the dealership because I’m so anxious about confrontation. I’ve dealt with them three times already and my anxiety was too high. I was prepared to abandon the car altogether. He made the initial call but I followed it up after he kept on having a go at me for dumping the car outside his house. They agreed to come and collect it.

So turns out, someone took my wheel nuts off, no doubt desperate to steal my alloys to make some money for Xmas. Fortunately one is safety locked on, so I was driving a car with no wheel nuts. I was very fortunate that I didn’t have an accident. The car is either parked outside my house or the police station where I work. Naturally it’s unlikely to be the latter where this occurred, so it means the offender came onto my driveway. I reported it to the police who classified it as a burglary and they asked me to check for signs of entry into the house. I couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t stop me from panicking. That night I barely slept, every noise sounded like an intruder, I was absolutely terrified. The first time I have felt so vulnerable in my home.

I told my elderly neighbour what had happened as she parks outside her house and she told me that her neighbor (on the other side) had had his car trashed. A garbage can thrown over it, windscreen wipers bent. I was shocked and I guess grateful that nothing worse had happened to mine.

I borrowed one of Steve’s golf club’s in an attempt to feel safer at night. But it’s been hard. I’ve been especially jumpy and been suffering with horrible nightmares. I have had an unrelenting migraine for three days, which is costing me a fortune in medication as the prescribed codeine isn’t working.

The deduction from my pay for my student loan was so huge, it’s meant I can’t make the rent. I don’t understand it at all, I thought I had to meet a certain income threshold. I really don’t need this. I’m literally going to be one of these people that is better just living off benefits. Which is awful because work, despite the long hours, has been really good for my confidence and sense of independence.

I’m really feeling the stress and with Xmas fast approaching, it’s only going to get worse. I hate Xmas as it is, so I’m making steps to avoid it, although I’m supposed to be attending this bloody work function on the 13th. I can’t think of anything worse. The people I work with are nice, but so bitchy and in these cliches it’s pretty pathetic. They’re definitely not the sort of people I’d want to liaise with outside of work. I’ve offered to cover the night shift in an attempt to get out of it, but they’ve worked it so that I can still attend and work later!

I’m not seeing the kids from now and through the weekend, I’m working and Steve’s away so his parents are down and looking after them. Of course I’m grateful to them for stepping up, but I miss the kids terribly. I wonder what this is all for sometimes.

Feeling bullied

So I’m feeling pretty raw. Whenever Steve and I seem to be getting along, something happens and he loses his temper and I’m left feeling like shit. I know I shouldn’t let him have that power over me, but on the whole I am feeling quite fragile. I feel like my mood is generally more stable, but then I have bouts or periods of feeling extremely low. They only tend to last for a day or so. I really don’t like it at all as I’m constantly worried that I’ll drop and not make it back up again.

My car lies dead at Steve’s house. And Steve did let me use his car for work. He does these odd helpful things, but then throws it back in my face, or does just enough from stopping me thinking he’s actually quite abusive. Certainly emotionally. And what’s worse is that he knows he can upset me very easily and can jump on my mental health or emotional state as though it’s a weakness on my part. He loves throwing at my face that he ‘helped me move’ that’s his nugget that he brings out when he wants to dominate me, but I can only weakly reply that he stopped the spousal maintenance, that he could have helped me because he’s left me with nothing. But even in my ears I sound pathetic. The fact that I’ve secured a house, got a job and manage my mental health, and previously dealt with the car issues, proves that I have the capability, but he doesn’t see any of that. In fact when I’m with him, it’s easier just to agree with everything he says.

I’m sad that it’s like this. It’s not that I’m in love with him anymore, but I just wish he wasn’t so nasty and mean all the time. He’s out to punish me and it’s never ending. I wish he’d just see me as a person and certainly respect me as the mother of his children, but he’s holding onto so much resentment towards me. He can’t seem to move forward. I’d like to say I wish I could have less to do with him, but we have the children. He continues to make me feel bad and I feel completely powerless. He’s such a narcissist that he sees nothing wrong with his treatment of me. In fact, he’d say it was all my fault that he treats me like shit.

I’m working full on as much as I can. I desperately need the money and it’s the only way I’m ever going to get on top of my bills and have money for Xmas. The stress is unreal, but at least working keeps my mind busy and not able to linger over the trouble I have with Steve and not having any money.

I’m dreading Xmas, there’s already a lot of talk about it here and stuff is popping up all over town. Luckily I don’t watch live television or else I’m be inundated with Xmas ads. As it is, I only have time for occasional pre recorded programmes.

It would be really good to get into therapy again, if I could afford it. I feel I need an outlet for my anxieties and concerns.

Well hopefully my car will be taken away to get fixed, that’ll be one less thing to worry about and using public transport when I’m working long hours isn’t ideal.

Seeing my psychiatrist on Friday, so will get the ball rolling for lithium.

Car! Sorted!

So now I officially own my own car. It’s a zillion years old, but hey, it’s all mine! And although finance was tempting to get a nicer car, I have grown up enough in the last year to know that adding to my financial pressure will ultimately affect me in a really bad way. The less stress the better.

My first week of work is done. Two assessments, passed both. Another one on Monday. It’s nice to feel tired from actually doing something! And I enjoy the work, the team are really nice.

The ‘separation agreement’ is now signed and official. The divorce is another $211, and I’m not particularly keen to get the ball rolling on that right now. Again, it’s pressure and upset I don’t need.

Tonight we’re going out as a family for my daughter’s 11th birthday dinner. It’ll be nice to all be together, things between Steve and I continue to be amicable and I’m pleased with the place we’re at. Although I still miss my husband, I’m not completely useless at life as a singleton. In fact I continue to get stronger and more confident. Let’s just hope it stays that way. My mental health continues to be a source of anxiety, like things are going so well, so where’s the price I need to pay? I’m seeing my psychiatrist next week, so it’ll be good to have a review and make sure I’m on track. I’m also seeing the benefits office to declare my part time income. I get really nervous about these things, I don’t want to screw the system (it’ll only backfire on me) so I’ll be able to get everything up to date.


Job – sorted

House – sorted

Car – sorted 

Now I just need to get money actually IN my bank account so I can start saving and get some extra bits for my Home (dining table, knickknacks, etc). I did go to the charity store and get some more cutlery for a few bucks! I surprise myself!


Am I disappointing my family (parents). Yes. 100% Gone are the ‘Europe xmas breaks’ we used to buy them, gone is my capacity to accommodate them in my own home, thus them only needing flights. I am now reliant on them financially and I would say emotionally but they’ve never been very good at that side of things. Every cent my father spends is another black mark against me. He can barely control his irritation. And to be fair, in his retirement, looking after a daughter that’s pushing 40 is a lot to ask.

So far I’ve enquired about numerous properties (competition is hot), made my benefit appointment and a slot to see my therapist, I’m still applying for jobs and may well have secured one – won’t know for sure for a little while. This has been me being proactive and not waiting for things to happen for me.

I’ve had my medication changed and feel much more positive about the regime. It’s just a shame that dr was temporary.

But my parents, they don’t seem to see it. Or maybe it’s all just not happening quickly enough. I still want to spend hours languishing in bed, I still feel low, my anxiety is shocking, sleep isn’t much better – but I’m trying desperately to organise my life.

Tensions are so fraught though, and arguments keep popping out – but you can tell they’re only mild releases of pressure. A big blow up feels imminent.

I feel quite alone in this struggle. I’m enduring another tidal wave of grief and sadness after seeing anything remotely mine in the house been chucked out. I understand Steve was being practical. And it’s just ‘stuff.’ But it’s a stark and shocking reminder that the house is nothing to do with me. That I don’t have a place there. I have no home. Yesterday I broke down and cried. I felt I could have cried for hours to be honest but with the kids around, I kept it hidden. They’re so happy to see me again, I don’t want them to think I’m unhappy.

I’ll have Harry and my daughter here in the motel tonight to sleep. Although it’s not very nice here, I’d like to spend more time with them.

So the struggle is ongoing, I’m really putting everything into putting my life in order. I think my parents just can’t understand me, the situation and the complexities of it. Although I’ve tried my best to explain. Something’s people only get it when they’re going through it themselves.

End of lease

So I have officially handed in the notice for the house in Martinborough. I don’t think I will earn any money through the tourist website particularly as it’s off-season here. And it’s too much of a gamble. I haven’t heard back yet but I imagine he won’t be very happy. S has made it abundantly clear that he is in no position to help me move financially but I’m hoping with the promise of the bond that will at least help somewhat. I’m putting everything into storage, which costs me less Per month then my weekly rent. It will certainly take the pressure off of me financially and help manage the amount of things I have to worry about. I still plan on going to the UK so hopefully I can get all of this done and packed away before I go. When I return NZ I know I can easily rent a small studio  in the interim while I sort out longer term lodgings.

I still feel really miserable and restless, as my car is impounded I’m useless when it comes to driving the kids around, and I haven’t been able to keep to any of my appointments. At least I see the psychiatrist on the 18th May so hopefully some new medication can be sorted. I just can’t imagine ever getting over this low, and I keep saying it but it just seems the days drag on with no end in sight.

I have asked S to tweak my resume as I’m sure it would help if I started sending that out again. I’ve done a lot of work on it but he’s excellent at providing really top of the range resumes, I guess because of his work history. Maybe in a way my lawyer was right I just need to get on. Even in my misery surely I can fake it until I make it.


Today has been another long day for me. Firstly I saw my therapist, I talked with her about the trigger I had yesterday and I hadn’t realised how much of an impact it had on me and how much it had a ripple effect on my thought processes. I discussed how drained I’d been made to feel, I talked about my fears as to whether my attacker had premeditated his attack. Did he make a beeline for me, knowing what he planned to do? Or did he ‘end up’ with me? Did he plan on having sex that night but not preempt the rejection? Or was he going to do whatever he wanted? The thoughts went round and round in my head and I expressed the them all to my therapist I told  my therapist I felt closure for me would be being able to ask him these questions and get the answers regardless of whether I like them or not.

This then went on to the police officer and how he had abused his position of power. I wanted to know if he actually did feel anything towards me or was I one of many of his targets? Had the other women been wrong? Did he actually have sincere feelings for me? Or was I just another notch on the bedpost (so to speak) or just another fucked up person he was able to seduce? Then this lead onto feeling let down by S as he knew something wasn’t right but didn’t do anything about it. In essence there was a snowball of different feelings, anger, grief, confusion, powerlessness, and worst of all shame.

I know I’ll  never get the answers that I desperately crave. I’ll be left with the monotony of confusion and despair and loneliness.

I’m glad that I was able to verbalise all of this in therapy, it’s amazing how freeing it is to say things out loud even though I don’t always know what’s going to come out of my mouth.

There was a brief reprieve and then I caught up with my psychiatrist. I was completely honest about my feelings of being suicidal when I stopped taking the olanzapine. I told her that I had planned my suicide and it was only because the children were with me that I didn’t follow through and I had to drop them off back at S’s anyway. I explained that I hadn’t felt safe being alone after that for some time and so I spent some days at S’s house. I was able to tell her that the medication was working again and that I’d only had brief thoughts of suicide mostly out of being defeated by this mental illness. I also told her that S was going to be away more meaning I was going to be at this house a lot more than I had imagined and I’ll be looking after the kids full time. Of course I’m stressed about juggling everything, but as long as I maintain open communication with my therapist and psychiatrist hopefully I can get through it.

After these two blocks of time spent with pretty important people in terms of my mental health, I’ve picked up the kids from school now they’re running around the house screaming. There will be no time for me to debrief, unwind, and take in events of the day.

My psychiatrist has told me to try taking olanzapine at 5 mg PRN to help with agitation, as the diazepam is only really good for panic. She warns this may leave me more woozy, so I shouldn’t take it when I know I need to drive. It’s not much but hopefully it’s another thing I can rely on to help with my mood at the moment. She’s also suggested later on down the track trying a new antipsychotic that doesn’t have weight gain as a side effect, but I am wanting to wait a bit longer before I try anything else as I have felt too unstable at the moment.

The reality is that I am faced with today are that a, I either registered on a rapists radar, and nothing could’ve stopped happening what happened, or b, this person took a spontaneous moment to have a his way with me, and it could’ve been any one. And c, a police officer either saw me as an attractive and healthy woman with whom he wanted to eventually have to date and would fall in love with or d, I was one  of his many preferred victims that was vulnerable, a victim of sexual assault, and easy to manipulate.

I will never get the answers on either. I have to learn to breathe and move on with my life, but at the moment my brain is drowning in different thoughts and upsets and my depression is making it really hard to think clearly.

The drugs are useful to keep me functioning, but it would be nice if I could find my own closure, move on and feel better.

Now I need to go and cook dinner for four children and pretend that today hasn’t happened for now.