Woke up this morning in a cold sweat (which is becoming the norm) following nightmare-ish stressful dreams. Decided not to move for a few hours. Didn’t even check my phone (almost like I knew it would be bad news). When I eventually peeled myself out of bed, popped my pills and checked my emails there it was… the ‘sorry but you have been unsuccessful’ email from my old job. I was so emotionally fucked by it that I didn’t react. Didn’t cry, didn’t even sigh. I think I’m broken now. How far I have fallen… I can’t even get offered my own job back from a charitable company that work closely with disabilities. My mental health issues clashing with work was too much for the company to handle. They knew they couldn’t sack me, so they waited until my contract ran out and then did everything they could not to re-hire me. Too much trouble for them to deal with the personality disorder.
There was another notification on my phone. A missed call from my GP surgery. I called back and they booked me in to have my COVID-19 vaccine tomorrow! I was shocked. I’m only 32. I read online the other day that doctors practices are now giving the vaccine to the severely mentally ill. I guess that’s me. Mental illness stops me from working yet gets me a VIP ticket out of the pandemic risk?… it’s swings and roundabouts.
I’m pretty messed up at the moment. To be honest, I don’t know what is keeping me going. I wake up to wait to go back to sleep. The days are empty. Boring. I have no motivation to occupy myself. I try to force it, for my boyfriend’s sake. He’s working his arse off 24/7 doing his final year of his Bioinformatics PhD. While I rattle around the house with a blank look on my face. All I have to look forward to is getting fucked on the weekends. Even that has it’s downfalls, the inevitable dreaded hangover until the next drinking session. My hangover was so bad last weekend I actually puked. I’m 32.. I should not be binge drinking to the extent I puke due to been hungover. Buuuut, I’m unemployed and depressed. I know I’m not helping myself.
At what point do I give up? I’m not allowed to be on work related benefits, rent, food, bills, still have to be paid for though… my Mom is helping me out where she can, bless her, she’s been sticking a few hundred quid in my account once a month – which is lovely of her but makes me feel like shit. Again, I’m 32… I should not be sponging off my mom. Ugh. I need a job, I need my own money.
In the back of my mind I’ve started to weigh up the likelihood of me getting a job in the current climate, and whether it would be worth applying for disability benefits. I know I have enough going on to qualify. I think that’s a discussion I need to have with Dom. I would hate for him to think I’m a waster, I want to work, and I will! But how soon… I just don’t know.