Tuesday, 8 September 2009

Monday Morning Blues, Tuesday Teatime Tears

Ok, Ok, baaaaad weekend. Not only did I struggle to get home on Friday in one piece (collapsed on the kitchen floor in tears much to my cat's confusion), the same again Saturday, both times boyfriend not available as there was a big mountain race (well, marathon) and he had to work. He found me Saturday night very happily drugged up on the sofa until he woke me up, I realised I was meant to be working at the cinema and he went off really, really cross with me (I think, couldn't take much in). It has not been spoken of since.

Sunday morning when I finally got out of bed (as far as on top of the duvet rather than under it) he brought me a cup of tea, asked me how I was and then it hit me, SHIT, THE WORLD STILL EXISTS. Which set me off in tears again. Couldn't even talk. Moved to sofa to cry instead. J jumping around not knowing what to do. Am sure he is getting fed up of me - he must be, I'm sick of me.

Anyway, he dragged me for a walk in the afternoon (me dragging my heels, hat down as low as possible, big sunglasses and large ski jacket despite the sunny day - the theory is, if i can't see them, they can't see me, bloody hot though). I suppose it made me feel better but I didn't feel a marked improvement, would rather have stayed in bed asleep except I couldn't damn well sleep without taking more drugs.

So back to the Friday night. I had planned after a suggestion from my Pschiatrist to have an emergency "kit" for these situations. Wasabi (wierd but works) - check. Didn't work. Tried more, made me retch (which I was already doing because I was crying and hyperventilating). Tried distraction. Washing up? No chance, couldn't get rid of those thoughts going round and round my head and the fact I was trying to make myself concentrate on what I was doing just exacerbated the fact that I was doing that task to distract me from the thoughts going round and round my head. Stopped when I felt dizzy (plus the washing up had not been washed up well enough). Move to bed. Lie there sobbing into duvet. Cat concerned. Cursed my ex-life and my ex for getting into my head all the time even though he doesn't know it.

And I just don't know why. And I can't talk to anyone about it. And he won't let me talk to him about it and won't even indulge me with some kind of acknowledgement if I do try to talk to him about it. So I am going more crazy with thoughts of who he might be now (if its a young, blond haired lawyer who acts like she's 12 years old then I will be even worse - there is no way I could cope with that as I will constantly compare myself and even though I know I am way better I will still criticise myself) even though that is unfair, but I realise that I am crap and can't wait for him forever however much I want to (I will end up looking like the complete twat while he is laughing at me in the wings) and so try to let life go on.

Not much better today. I should feel better because most of my days at work are filled with friends coming in to see me, but I end up feeling annoyed and aggressive and trying to hide it and then running home and hiding because I can't cope with socialising.

Crap. I think I really am mad. so if the drugs I am on at the moment have stopped working, what's left for me? (No-one even dare talk about having my head fried - I absolutely draw the line at that.)

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