Got up late today, my bf was a bit pissed off so I went for a long walk by myself (there is a park less than one minute away). I took the binoculars, for a spot of bird (and dog) watching. It was good, for the most part. I found a nest of magpies that me and Dom have been watching from the kitchen window -but up close!
Then I saw a tree that looked climbable. I was a bit dubious whether to climb a tree by myself. But the temptation took me and I did. I got quite high and just sat there for ages, watching the people, birds, dogs, and listening to music on my headphones. People on the path didn’t even notice me in the tree! It was great! A secret hangout. Hurt my left ankle a bit jumping down, but it’s fine.
Then I walked around and sat under a tree texting people my in my phone. Had a phone call with a friend and ex-colleague of mine. The call fell on to serious matters about my interview to get my old job back and things she’d heard… I got the strong impression that they have someone in mind for the role (hence them advertising and re-advertising three times!). Now they’ve finally interviewed I think their chosen person must have applied, so I have no chance. I am set to find out tomorrow, but knowing the company it’ll be more like Thursday or Friday…. sigh. I need this. But NOW, I’m not holding my breath…
Yep, I am in the overweight category according to the NHS’s BMI calculator… My past self would be discussed to learn I weigh 11 stone and that a size 12 is too tight. My past self of course had an eating disorder and was in a size (UK) 6/8. I might be fat now, but I’m a hell of a lot happier. However, I don’t want to be fat. I want to be healthy. So I’m going to do something about it…
I’m going to post an update on the first day of each month – so that it doesn’t consume my whole blog with weight-loss content and I don’t get obsessed. this is me right now:
I just got an email from the better paid job(s) I applied for… scrap that, TWO emails (as I applied for the worker role and the senior role (thinking I was capable)… unfortunately they don’t even think I’m capable of the worker role… so there goes my hopes of a better paid job than before… It’s just knock back after knock back.
Now my only hope is getting my old job back… the one I interviewed for on Wednesday………. fuck. If they turn me down I’m done for. Please, please don’t turn me away. I’m desperate now. I need this. If they turn me down then I WILL be hurt. Big time.
So, back in early January my old job was back on the market as they FINALLY secured the project… I of course applied thinking they would have me back in a flash (as I’d already done the job for a year up until November when the old contract ended). I received a text from my ex-manager saying my app was good and I’d get an interview, but heard nothing from HR. Eventually they got back to me saying they were extending the advert for the vacancy… I was baffled. I can do the job and can start immediately, yet they are waiting to interview because of low number of applicants. ‘For god’s sake’ I thought, ‘why not just take me back?!’ I convinced myself that they don’t want me back. Actually, I convinced myself they’d do anything not to have me back.
I had however been promised an interview. February came around and they extended the advert for the job AGAIN! This cemented my fears of they will not be having me back because they are sick of me and my occasionally disabling mental health issues. To make it worse they stated in the job advert “No experience needed – we are dedicated to training you up from scratch”. Kick in the teeth or what. Felt like they’d completely forgotten all of my successes while working for them.
Got a phone call yesterday to finally arrange my interview. Part of me wanted to tell them I’d got a high flying well paid other job and to stick it. But, the realistic side of me thought great! A job! I need to earn money again! And I’m so bored! So I jumped at the interview.
Had the interview this afternoon… it went okay, but I definitely could have been more prepared. I wasn’t really feeling it. I prefer face to face but it was over Zoom. I tripped over my words a lot and kept going off topic, but I’ll have to wait and see. Cross my fingers I guess. Will find out in a few days.
I have applied to other jobs. Waiting to hear if I’m through to interview. One of the jobs is a hell of a lot more well paid, so I’ve not given up hope on other options yet. Even if I accept my old job and then get the better offer… I’d have to apologise to the company I’ve been with for the last two years and take the better offer. But that would be the absolute dream scenario. Who knows…
Today the weather is bleugh… so I just chilled out in my PJ bottoms and dressing gown drinking gallons of tea. I probably would have done the same if the weather was decent to be honest.
I haven’t written in a week or so, so I would like to catch up: I’ve been very prepared this year and I am totally ready for Christmas. The original plan was for me and Dom to go our separate ways for the festive ‘5 day relaxed (covid) rules period’ but that was scrapped and announced on TV by the PM without much notice. Different areas faced harsher restrictions -including that of where Dom’s parents live. Plus, England are only allowed to mix house holds on Christmas Day. There’s no way Dom could see his family for one day (Christmas Day) as trains will not be running… so, he’s having Christmas with us this year, in the Yardley household. I feel sad for him that he won’t get that time with his Mom and Dad.
In a way I was really looking forward to having a five day break away -sleeping on the sofa at my Mom’s place. A nice change of pace and scene… Not that I want time away from Dom! -it’s just, over lockdown we have kinda been glued together! would be good to get a quick breather, see different faces, have fresh conversations.
Anyway, like I said, I am well prepared. I’ve bought presents for everyone and really thought them through. I’m quite good at gift giving, I think. I guess the proof is in whether the gift recipients agree with me! Dom on the other hand has not been prepared at all. I kept encouraging him to start Christmas shopping earlier in December, but he was too wrapped up (haha, unintentional pun) in his work with his PhD. He said it didn’t even feel like Christmas to him until just the other day. I’ve bought him loads of lovely gifts, and he’s already apologised to me in advance for not getting me much. It’s not the amount of presents I receive from him that is kinda getting to me, I think it’s the lack of thought and effort he’s put in. There are two parcels that came addressed to him from Amazon (prime) which he’s said are gifts for me. I hope he at least wraps them. I can’t complain really though. He’s been stressed and busy with work, where as I’ve had nothing better to do than to spend money that I probably shouldn’t have because I’m unemployed…
I just want to enjoy Christmas and put everything on January to be a new start. I have some New Year theories, but I’ll save writing them until NYE. First priority of Jan 2021 though- get a job!!!
The other day I had a phone conversation with my manager from the job I’ve just been made redundant from. I’d been owed this phone call for about a week but he’s a busy man, I understand. I’d had to politely remind him by text several times to give me a ring. The idea was for him to give me some feedback following the two interviews I had (via Zoom) to be redeployed in the company (that I was unsuccessful in), but we didn’t really touch upon that at all. Instead he asked about what new job opportunities I’d been looking at elsewhere, and started suggesting where else to look – despite vacancies becoming available there, where I’ve worked for the last two years… I asked about my chances of coming back if I should happen to apply for these new roles, and to my slight confusion he seemed to deter me from applying, putting me off with info about another colleague stepping in and likely to get the job etc. I just got a very strong feeling that they don’t want me back.
I know I haven’t been the easiest of employees to work with, due to my mental health conditions, but I like to think that I’m a hard worker who gets results, and that my managers had come to look past my (MH) disabilities… but clearly they had had enough. I actually felt that this was the case earlier in my employment, after been given an initial warning, followed by a disciplinary and then the threat of a second disciplinary -all of which I felt were unfair and unfounded considering my personal situation and complex needs. I saw an occupational health therapist for a ‘fit for work’ assessment after my managers called for it and HR made the referral, (around the time of my disciplinary). I was deemed both fit and unfit to work, depending on my fluctuations in wellness -which I’d already told them about and explained a hundred times that this was unlikely to change. I experience massive and extreme mood swings on a daily and monthly basis, from manic dizzying highs to debilitating crippling depression, and I am rarely in a stable state of in-between. But, I battle on! Every single day. I try so hard. Many people with problems similar to my own are (quite terribly) classed as ‘revolving door patients’ by care professionals, in and out of psychiatric hospitals their entire lives. It’s actually quite amazing how ‘functioning’ I am with everything I have going on.
I am quite upset that the company I worked for don’t want me back. I feel like my contracts ending was the perfect way for them to get rid of me for good. I feel like I was set up to fail in my redeployment opportunities, especially with the wording of one particular interview question… anyway. I need to move on now. I think if the company are not willing to stick to their reasonable adjustments to cater for my needs in a fair and equal way, then I’m better off not working for them.
Feeling way too positive today… I’m not used to it…
After a completely sleepless night (one before last), last night I went to bed at 10pm and set my alarm for 7am. I fell asleep with a strong determination to get up when my alarm told me to. And guess what… -I did! I just -got up! If you knew me, you would know how unlikely it was for that to actually happen. I started the day perfectly; came down stairs, had coffee, flicked on the morning news programme, ate a healthy breakfast, had a shower, got dressed -in ‘daytime clothes’ not the usual half and half combo that has become the norm over lockdown of comfortable pyjama bottoms with t-shirt and hoodie, using the excuse that there is no real need to leave the house. As a matter of fact, at breakfast I used up the last bit of cereal in the bag (granola if you want to know), so I decided to go out to the shop to get some more. A nice cold morning walk up the road in the fresh air to the local convenience store. Dom came with me. I woke him up an hour after I got up and we were out the house just after nine.
I tried to explain my current feelings to Dom as we walked… I feel as though I’ve had a near death experience and woken up the next morning thankful to still be alive. The kind of feeling where the grass looks greener, you notice the birds singing, food tastes better. Basically, I think I might be happy. right now, this morning, despite everything going on – I am happy.
Maybe the new antidepressants are working after all. It’s kind of a good job I didn’t ring the psych team yesterday like I wrote that I would, to complain that the drugs aren’t doing anything.
Maybe this happiness is a bit too much? But don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining. I’m just a bit weirded out by how drastic of a change my mood has gone through overnight. They always say things will be better in the morning, but they never usually are.
I just kept thinking, where’s my Christmas miracle… y’know? I interviewed for two separate redeployment opportunities but my co-workers got the roles. There wasn’t enough to go round. Reminds me of being picked last to join a team of basketball in senior school.. fucking sucks. At least in school it didn’t effect how much money we have to live on! Being an adult is waaay harder.
I haven’t slept tonight. It’s 6:00am now, so I just got up. Dom and I argued last night. It was a serious one. Came close to the end of our relationship… there was a lot of shouting, slamming things, tears (on my part), it was a mess. I really need to sort my life out. It’s crumbling away, and I’ve worked so hard to get to this point. Depression wants to beat me again, but I’m not going to let it. I’m going to phone the psych team at 9:00am, tell them the new drugs aren’t working on me yet.
Basically everything at the moment is a wake up call. And if I don’t make some big lifestyle changes I’m going to be back at square one, for sure. I don’t want to choose the easy life. I want the good life. And that comes with hard work.
I’m going to spend the next few hours working on my CV and looking for jobs. If I could get a new job to start in January, that could be a real turning point. A fresh start. No horrible reputation of mental health days off sick, or being late because I couldn’t drag myself out of bed. A clean slate. New people. Yeahh.. that would be nice.
One of the well known catch phrases associated with Borderline personality Disorder (BPD) or Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder (EUPD) is “I hate you – don’t leave me!”… in my eyes this sums up splitting on a loved one and fear of abandonment.
I’ve been trying to do some thinking this morning as I awoke unusually early, before my alarms (that often fail to get me up anyway). So I came down stairs, made coffee and (unusually) flicked on the morning news (I never turn on the TV). I caught up on current affairs (which again is unusual for me), had breakfast and got in the shower, all without being prompted by my ever patient boyfriend (as he was still in bed). I was quite proud that I was fed, washed and dressed before 9am. I took coffee up to a sleeping Dominic, and gently pestered him in intervals until he got out of bed. Maybe I should have left him to sleep a little longer (he’d not slept well). But quite selfishly I was bored and wanted company and conversation. It wasn’t until he finished his breakfast that I started to moan, but rather than a general moan, I was trying to figure myself out in a self aware way. I moaned about; being bored, not having any friends, being in lockdown, lack of social interaction etc.. Dom reasoned with me, as he does in an attempt to try and get to the root of the mood. I realised that I couldn’t gauge my mood until I was in conversation, and that it turns out that I am grumpy, even after such a seemingly positive start to the day. I then started to explain that I thought I might be jealous of Dom, because his days have a focus (his PhD), he has an aim, work to do, tasks to complete. When he stops talking to me -he is still occupied with things. Whereas when (from my point of view) when he stops talking to me -I have nothing. I just quietly wait until the next snippet of conversation sparks up. I do not actively entertain myself. I just sit there on standby. I feel like I do get bored (very much so) and it’s not like I can’t think of anything to do either. I could list loads of things to do, but my trigger is broken. I will want to do things, but I won’t want it enough to act. Everything seems like a massive effort, I can rarely make myself do anything (even things that I want to do). I will always end up fixing my environment, making it tidy, or filing my nails/plucking my eyebrows. Always a meaningless procrastination task that can wait.
Anyway, after further thought, I think I may have got somewhere in picking this apart. I am not okay being alone. I don’t know how to care or look after myself, how to occupy or entertain myself… I have never been alone.
When I was a baby (apparently) I would cry whenever my mom left the room. I didn’t really have many friends after my one best friend moved away in early childhood. Instead I was picked up by a bully and kept close for years, the bully was the only ‘friend’ I had, and she used to torture me on a daily basis, making me do whatever she wanted me to by threats of no longer ‘being my friend’. I was so scared of being alone that I thought I was better off being tortured. My Dad had another life and never married or lived with my Mom, but he would come over to see us everyday after school for a few hours… and then leave. I remember standing in front of the door to barricade it, and chasing his car down the street as he drove away each night. That hurt me a lot.
I eventually broke away from the bully, only for her to be replaced with a voice in my head called John. He told me what to say and do, I was then technically never alone. For years I had him to talk to in my head, until his demands turned gory and I had to self harm. My troubles were discovered and I was admitted to a child and adolescent psych hospital and put on medication. That was the loneliest time of my life.
Got out of there and made it to college where I met my first boyfriend. I thought he was the love of my life, we were sickly and inseparable, and stayed together for one year and three months… then I split on him and love turned to hate. He was heart broken and threatened to kill himself if I did not agree to get back together. I did not agree… he did not kill himself. But that hurt me a lot and shook my already rickety trust with others. It was like I could just about live with them and not at all live without them.
I had a rocky time at university, that was the second most lonely time of my life until I made true friends a year or so into the three years. I moved away from home in an attempt to gain independence. It was sort of like running away, but safer. I developed an eating disorder and became very sick. Still self harming and drinking I partied away my chances at decent grades. By the end of the three years there was a really good group of us. Friends for life I called them. Then Uni finished and I moved back home with my Mom. Everyone went their separate ways. I lost the first real friends I’d ever had.
At home I spent a year getting high with my brother before he moved away to university. Then I was alone again. No friends, no job. Just the same four walls of my little box room. I got very depressed over the years of isolation and attempted suicide by taking a big overdose and cutting both my wrists.
I got a support worker, 9 hours a week. She was younger than me which made me feel like a failure. But I got over it. She was my support worker for three years. She was practically paid to be company for me. A prescribed friend. I eventually got a job in Poundland which I hated. I befriended the assistant manager and asked him to be my boyfriend. We were together for a few years, both living at our parents houses. Neither of us had much drive. But retail was not for me. The hatred of the job drove me to apply for bigger and better things. I got a job as a support worker (how the tables had turned, I thought). Then the pressure got to me after a year there, and I had a breakdown. Back to square one. I broke up with Mr Poundland, he lost his job and did not look to get another. I was suicidal again, but did not act on it this time.
I joined internet dating sites to find a partner. Wasn’t long before I met Dom, and my life’s work to improve began. I got two part time jobs as mental health worker, moved into supported living as a stop-gap, and then got a more structured job working with deaf people. Me and Dom moved in together. We have had massive ups and downs but have also been on some great adventures. I care about him more than I care about anyone. I don’t want to lose him, and trust me, I think I’ve come close… a few times! But he is the love of my life.
I’m about to lose the stable job I’ve had for two years. But I can’t take another knock… I need to keep moving forwards. I’m not going back!
What I started off saying was I have this fear of being alone, this not knowing of how to be by myself, or how to cope in my own company. I was going to say I need to learn this. But really I need to learn about how to ‘be’ in general. With AND without people!
I’ve been on a kind of rollercoster over the last month or so… to bullet point, here’s what’s happened: – I had an ECG scan with abnormal results – The psych reduced my depot of the antipsychotic Flupentixol – I had my ADHD meds (Elvanse) stopped abuptly because of the ECG – At work my contracts are ending so I’m at high risk being made redundant by the end of November – I found I was having extra trouble with motivation and worked out I’m depressed – Spoke to the psych who suggessted changing my antidepressants – Weened off thr SSRI Fluoxitine (Prozac) from top dose down to nothing – Today I started the new antidepressant (a SNRI) called Duloxitine … and so today I’m hoping to turn a corner with a fresh start!
This will be yet another of my famous comebacks! I’ve made a few small changes today already. I actually got out of bed and dressed, for one! I’ve forced myself to drink more water. I’ve weighed myself, as I need to seriously lose some lbs! (I’m around 16kg heavier than when I first started dating Dominic, shocking) I hate being overweight, makes me feel gross, which doesn’t help with depression and motivation… I’ve had healthy food so far today and I plan to keep it up -low-ish cals and only allowing myself to drink alcohol on the weekend. I’ve even turned to the mint green tea!
I don’t know whether it’s beacuse I slept the whole weekend away and I couldn’t possibly spend much more time in bed, or if it’s the new meds, or just being more hydrated than usual, but I do feel somewhat more active and alive today.
I had an ECG (like a heart rate monitor reading) last Thursday. They usually just take three readings, but for me they took four because it kept showing a long QT (whatever that means)… before I left the nurse said “I have to give you some advice before you go, because your QT levels were high… if you go light headed or get any chest pain call for an ambulance…”
The next day I was at work in between appointments and I got a phone call from my psychiatrist who had just reviewed my ECG results. She was calling because she had concerns about the high QCT readings. She said a normal range goes up to 170 and my highest reading was 195… antipsychotic meds can make this happen apparently, so she has decreased the dosage of my monthly depot injection of Flupentixol from 50mg back down to 40mg… if that IS what’s causing the high QCT then it should show a lower reading in a next follow up ECG in three/four months time. Hopefully I’ll be able to remain stable mentally until then… and still have a beating heart!
However, if it’s not down to the Flupentixol, then I might have an underlining heart condition that will need investigation and stuff, because a high QCT level can be quite serious apparently. Like… your heart can just stop…
Apparently the QCT level is the time it takes for your heart to start beating and stop beating on each beat. I’ve had bradycardia (a slow heart rate) for years, ever since my first ECG showed it up back when I had an eating disorder a million years ago, it feels like.
But not sure about this……..
So yeah… not good…
I am such a lonely fucker… I’m at the pub by myself, as per usual. Texting the handful of people, ‘friends’ (mainly family..) in my phone book for a bit of conversation, but everyone is too busy. I think I’m getting depressed…
Cried my eyes out for hours last night in bed at the thought that everybody dies… My Mom and Dad will die, by brother and boyfriend will die, everyone I know will die. I can’t handle it.
People are starting to look fragile to me again. I’m drinking more and spending more time in bed. These are all my warning signs. I’m irritable and then feel guilty about being that way. And I’m mourning the loss of good times before they’ve even happened. It’s my birthday soon. I’ll be 32.
So, my health is a bit all over the place at the minute …after being on a low dose of antibiotics for three months straight, the moment I came off them (well, two weeks later) I had another bladder infection! What’s the deal with that?! I’ve got a blood test tomorrow morning, so hopefully that will shed some light. But the Drs seem to be a bit baffled.. my urine shows leukocytes (white blood cells – so likely an immune response) when put to the ‘dip test’ and sometimes there is presence of blood, but not always a bacteria when they test it in the lab. Basically something is going on in my guts and it hurts, but they don’t know what. I’ve had ultrasounds, a cystoscope and a CT scan – they found kidney reflux in an ultrasound and damage to my bladder wall with the cystoscope but said it was because of the multiple infections and would fix it’s self while I’m on the the three months antibiotics. I’m on daily laxatives now to rule out constipation adding to things (but they are not really reLAXing things, if you know what I mean…). I’ve been branded as having IBS in the past too, there has been similar tummy troubles for years, they thought after ruling out my womb that it could be my bowels. Blood found in poo, various tests for cancer etc. but no -thank god of course. But now my bladder maybe? We still don’t know what’s going on in my belly… I’ll keep you posted.
I feel like a bit of a prick.. my boyfriend Dom is doing a PhD which obviously takes up a lot of time and thought… today I kind of rolled my eyes when he wanted us to hurry at a Saturday brunch out in town so that he could get back and work (… or not…).
I selfishly want him to relax -for his sake as well as mine- but I know that’s not very possible whilst doing a PhD in bioinformatics. I didn’t mean it nasty like, I was just annoyed that my easy going Saturday was not so easy going, and it never is, due to bioinformatics! I wasn’t having a go, I get it. I was just frustrated.
We got back from our brunch followed by a trip to the supermarket, only for him to have a phone call with his friend for hours and hours, then dinner etc. while I made myself scarce and went to the pub (admittedly to try and do some work of my own- which I failed to do! So I know how hard it is!) but when I returned, at past 10pm, he seemed to still be preoccupied by other things online and then whenever I want a little bit of conversation or attention he “can’t” because he’s trying to work.
I can’t wait until he has finished this PhD! But in another way I think he will be lost without academia. I want him to be free of the pressures but how will he survive a job that demands times etc. I know he can, has, and will; but not while I’ve known him, and from what I’ve gathered, all of that stuff makes him really unhappy.
I don’t know if I’ll still have a job come November, I text my line manager this evening with my concerns. He’s a good guy, I’m sure he’ll figure something out for me. We’re gonna talk more on Monday.
At the moment everything is a bit uncertain, and I hate it. I like to know what I’m doing so that I can prepare for and dread it accordingly. limbo is shit.
I applied for a job at Birmingham City Uni a few weeks back. I got an email last Thursday saying I was unsuccessful in making the shortlist for interview, and I still haven’t quite gotten over it yet, I don’t think. I put so much effort into that application, and I was pretty sure I was ticking all the boxes. Granted – it was a bit of a step up… the salary was ten grand more than I’m on now, however, I was still hopeful and in a way quietly confident that I’d at least get an interview. Serves me right I guess. Everyone kept telling me not to put all my eggs in one basket.
I tend to do this, convince myself that the best possible outcome will miraculously happen and I live happily ever after. News flash – not how life works. If anyone should know this it should be me; what with being bullied as a kid, being part of my Dad’s sideline secret family, not to mention the numerous mental breakdowns.
I feel like a bit of a shit for this reaction I’m having. It’s like I’m kind of depressed about it, like I said – in my head that was my ticket out of my current job and I had already packed! Now I’m left to remain where I have been for the past two years, no exciting new corners to turn, or fresh starts to be had, no pay rises, and new people to meet.. just continue trudging along the same old muddy path, until November where the contracts end and I don’t know what I’ll do…..
On Friday night me and Dom stayed in (of course), but we arranged to meet up with his friends from Brighton online over video chat and play some games. We ended up using House party for the video and Jackbox TV for the games. It was pretty good, I mean, nothing like actually socialising, but I’m sure I’ll get used to this new life in the house where we see people through a screen. It was quite refreshing to see them (like I said in my last post – these are people who I class as firends although they are technically Dom’s). We managed to drink our way through four bottles of wine… between the two of us! I can’t remember falling asleep but I woke up the next day extrememly dehydrated on the sofa. Dom cooked us a breakfast to fix us up, but my hangover was slightly more severe than his and I puked after a few mouthfuls. That was one of three times that day I was sick. My head was in so much pain. That was really the first night I’ve been drunk this year. We did dry January which turned into a dry Feb too, because we enjoyed the health benifits so much. A few little drinks here and there in march, then … Friday night happened – and I never want to drink again. I rememberd why I liked not drinking so much.
I had weird nightmarish dreams in my drunken state of not being in control of my body and mind, I guess that is exactly what being drunk is, so I shoudn’t be so suprised that my subcontious clocked on to it as well. I hate the gaps in my memory of what I spoke about with people. The fact that it was all through the intenet seems to make it worse somehow. Like it would be more excusable and believable if I was stumbling about in person slurring my words etc. and then could apologige through text the next day and we’d all laugh and forget about it. I have this sense on shame… ugh.
Anyway. It is now Monday morning and I slept lightly last night. I’ve been awake for an hour, I’ve already had coffee and it’s only just turned eight. I need to be productive today ‘at work’ (from home), I did not get a lot done last week at all.
I’m using this weird time to do some soul searching I guess… The CV-19 outbreak is simultaneously bringing out the best and worst in people. Now that Britain is in lockdown (day 4 for me working from home) it has made me apreciate the connections I make with people on a day to day basis. We spend a lot of time with our colleagues at work, prehaps more waking hourse than we do with our families and friends.
Yesterday I came to a realisation – I don’t have any friends… This is not a new realisation, more of a re-realisation. I tend to get by in life just fine without friends. I don’t have enimies either, and I am not alone. I have people in my life, but it would be a push to refer to them as friends. I have my Boyfriend, my parents, my brother, cousins, colleagues, auinties and uncles. I have had friends in the past (at university) but I am very rarely in contact with them, Can’t actually remember the last time I saw any of them… It’s sad. I loved them. I still like to think of them as my friends, but do they still think of me as a friend?.. To tell the truth I probably wouldn’t be in the top 10 if they were to list their friends. Probably not even the top 20.
Dom’s friend from school who he grew up with died recently, early thirties, really sad circumstances. It is his funeral today, but of course we can’t go because of the lockdown. Dom is so lucky, he has lots of really good people as friends. Lots of different groups; his school friends, uni friends and Brighton crowd, the guys he works with at the lab, I’m sure there are even more. He doesn’t have an easy time maintaining these friendships as he has to battle with the pressure and anxiety that comes with communication with people, but he’s manages it at least. I’ve met most of them and they are all really lovely people who seem to care deeply about Dom and each other. I know they would be there for him if anything bad happened and I wasn’t around. On finding out the sad news Dom had to do the duty of informing a few of this other friends of Chris’s death. It was heartbreaking seeing him grieving and mourning his loss. I turned inward at some point and quite selfishly thought about myself. I thought, how would my old friends find out if I died? Who would come to my funeral? It’d be just family… how sad is that.
My colleagues mean a lot to me, I kind of use them as friend replacements. I get on well with almost everyone in the office, I’m nice, and friendly, I make people laugh, I trust and talk openly, but when it comes down to the next step in building a meaningful relationship I just can’t do it. I don’t know how to. I think I am lacking as a person… There is something wrong with me. I mask everything in the company of other people. I become who I think they want me to be. I feel like a chamelian, blending in to the people around me for survival. I mirror other people and laugh on cue (when they laugh). People seem to genuinely like me, but I never get invited to things. I never get picked. I’m like the tag along person, there to bump up the numbers.
I think I’m depressed. I do the bare minimum to get by in life. If it wasn’t for Dom I would sleep 24/7. I don’t enjoy doing anything. Work is just a distraction from my paralysing loneliness that I’m forced to go to Monday to Friday. I don’t express any emotions or opinions because I don’t feel or think. I must be so boring and frustrating to be around. All my hobby’s have stopped, my interest in anything has dried up. I always want to be in bed, you’re not alone when you’re not awake. Nothing is expected of you when you’re not conscious. I’m wasting my time and essentially my life, but doing anything is so much effort because I completely lack desire or will.
Ask me how I was 6 weeks ago and you would have got a somewhat different report.. I was exhausting myself with overworking. I felt for a few weeks that I could do anything and everything, I took on the world and too many responsibilities. It was only after being subject to that kind of pressure for 2-3 weeks straight (without weekend breaks) that I fell apart. I went from being superwoman at work to absent/late/unreliable.
I have a disciplinary at work next week because my most recent breakdown was badly timed. It fell in the last couple of weeks of a 7 week probationary period that I was granted to prove that I could cope consistently since my last breakdown (when I was referred to occupational health, who suggested I drop some hours – which I did not want to do). They can ask me to step down from one of my roles, but apparently they cannot force it.
Every Thursday afternoon Dom has counselling in town with some woman named Suzette. I am honest and open regarding my degrees of jealousy around it – 1. He goes and openly expresses his feelings to some random woman every week and he can’t do that with me… and – 2. He gets the chance to regularly offload on someone like that, and I don’t?!
The specialist service I was under (SPS) have denied me support twice, after being either ‘too mental’, or ‘not mental enough’… It feels so unfair, because I so clearly need something like that. I am not in control of my emotions at all, they rule and fuck up every aspect of my life.
I bought bloody self help books with some of my Christmas money, because no one will help me. They all turn around and tell me that “it doesn’t work like that – I can’t tell you what to do to fix yourself – that has to come from you”… well what are you being fucking paid for then! When I change my thought process and try a new approach they accuse me of saying things to please them. I can’t win.
This is fresh right now because it’s Thursday and Dom’s not long got home from his counselling session. He’s going on about having ADHD again (which he only thought he might have after I got diagnosed). I’m just wound up. Rather than be aggressive and defensive thought I’d write this post.
This morning I started the new dose of Elvanse 50mg daily (up from 30mg). I was expecting more of a reaction to be honest, but I just felt… normal.
Maybe today wasn’t the best day to judge it -I’ve been really, quite depressed over the weekend and spent a lot of time in bed. So today when I had to snap back into work mode I felt distanced from the world, like everything was not quite real.
I am probably still withdrawing from Aripiprazole. Last Monday the psych told me to stop taking it (it’s a mood stabiliser and antipsychotic medication), I was on 10mg daily. I wasn’t told to reduce it slowly, so I just stopped it. That messed me up a bit, ended up crying at work in my Occupational Health review meeting last Tuesday. Then this weekend happened. I just felt so cold and tired, with no desire whatsoever to do anything. Last night I cried A LOT, over a lot of things, one thing being the inevitable death of my loved ones. I felt so alone.
Anyway. Not much to report about today. I guess I’ve got more done. I’ve been kinda irritable though. I just want to do things my way. But that’s not how it works in an adult world.