An hour at a time

Yesterday was a hideous day. I didn’t want to get up, I wanted to hide away and pretend that the world didn’t exist any more. I got up nevertheless because I didn’t want to irritate my husband any more than I already seem to. Before he left for work he was not overly friendly and through a conversation he made me feel invisible. He just pays no attention to me any more, doesn’t seem to be interested in anything I have to say. I’m fighting hard to get help, to find a way through all the darkness but he doesn’t want to know about it. I feel so lost inside already and now I feel like I’ve lost my friend. When he came home last night, we were friendly, but there was little conversation. He went up to bed abruptly. I haven’t gone to bed at the same time as him for ages, I just lie awake and get pissed of and frustrated. I go on Twitter and the light from my phone annoys him, so I have just come to the conclusion that it would just be better to stay downstairs until I am unable to keep my eyes open.

On top of this with my husband, my eldest daughter hurled some abuse at me, telling me that my reaction was because of my mental health and that I was being unfair. I wasn’t, I was being a mother doing what mother’s do when behaviour is unacceptable. Her comments crushed me and inside i felt my heart breaking. I felt like a complete failure as a wife, mother and as a human being. I needed to take time out so went up to my room where the tears fell. I have frequent thoughts about ending things, but they are normally fleeting and I push them away. However, the thought came and wouldn’t go away. I just got stronger and stronger. The urge was the strongest that I have felt since I was a teenager. It was overwhelming. I decided that I would do it, I would end things. I came down to the kitchen to get all my pills. I didn’t have enough. I was so mad and even more frustrated. I dont really remember everything about what happened after this point. I know I tweeted and wrote another blog. But, unless I go over it all, I am not sure how much time passed or anything. I just know that I cried. I phoned my friend, I didnt want to call the crisis line, calling a complete stranger makes me feel anxious and I didn’t want to talk to anyone else. We talked and she helped. I made it through the evening.

As the hours ticked by last night/this morning I felt myself dipping back down. The urge I had experienced earlier was back. I cut. I didn’t know what else to do. But it didn’t help and the feeling just got stronger. I again went on Twitter, I was so tired but so awake. I just wanted everything to go away. I have so many things going on in my head, the feelings, thoughts and emotions. I don’t care if I have BPD or any other mental health illness, the things which I am trying to figure out, trying to deal with, trying to find a voice for are tearing me apart. And my relationship with my husband feels like its resting on egg shells. I found some spare tablets which would not interfere with those medicines which I am prescribed and would mean that I would have enough left until I get my repeat script. I’m not entirely sure how much I took of what but I took some over the counter sleeping remedy in the hope that I would be able to sleep. I haven’t slept, it was just a nap.

Its now 8.15pm. I am feeling really low. The increase of the venlafaxine on Wednesday has brought back the side effects I had when I was initally put on it. I don’t feel well. I have tingly feelings in my arms and legs with random muscle spasms. My legs feel like jelly, my hands shake like crazy, my nerves feel on fire and I ache. I also have horrible pains in my stomach which are reminiscent of before but I am also aware that I have taken a lot of co-codamol in the past 2 days and the cocktail of pills I took this morning may be the cause of my stomach pain.

I have had some wonderful support from friends on Twitter and have felt cared for in a way I have not experienced before. I have genuinely been taken by surprise at the fact that there are people who care if I am here or not. I have a couple of good friends, but no one is really ever there like this for me. No one really ever wants to talk to me, support me or find out whats going on. It’s the first time that this has happened to me. Normally I just deal with things and find a way to cope. Not what would be considered healthy but they have got me through in the past.

I have many thoughts in my head that I want to get rid of, I want to be able to let them out. I just dont know how to do this, I dont know where to start or what to say. Some of it I feel embarrassed about and just don’t know if I could ever share these things although if I did it would probably help to make sense of things. I am scared of sharing, of not making sense, of sounding ridiculous. I am scared of being judged. Being a freak. I am scared of giving these memories, feelings, thoughts and emotions a voice. I have always just buried everything. No one has ever given a shit.

It would make sense to start at the beginning and work my way through, but this would be like writing my life story and I am pretty certain that this would be boring. I feel so far that my blogs have jumped all over the place, representing how erratic I feel. Do i talk about things that happened in detail, or do I brush over them? I don’t want to upset people who read this blog. If I laid myself completely bare would it really help? There are things which I know affect me and which I find harder than other things to discuss, I feel shy about some of it. Part of me feels like I should start at the beginning and work through things, but I have no idea where this would take me and it would be like writing a book like David Pelzer’s. Chapters that contain details of my life that i have never shared with a single soul. I just don’t know what to do. I feel like I am going to overload with everything I am feeling and thinking.

I have said before that this blog is first and foremost for my benefit, but I also want it to be something that people want to read. Writing just for myself doesn’t do a thing for me. It just makes me feel more depressed and alone. Publishing each post that i write and having people read it makes me feel like its doing something. Maybe something good, im not sure, but its like I am letting something go. When people comment or write to me and share their experiences it helps me.

I wouldn’t normally ask, but if you read this post all the way to this point, I would really like to ask for your help. Where do I go from here? Do I just carry on as I am, or should I work through things from the beginning? I would probably write the random uptodate post anyway if I wrote something from the beginning. I don’t want to do this on my own….I am scared to go back to the start, but there is this intense feeling inside that this is what I need and should do in order to work through all the shit thats been my life. Will this help me to get better and lay the ghosts and demons to rest?

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2 thoughts on “An hour at a time

  1. Wow, Libertas, I feel really touched by your post. It is very clear that in amongst the turmoil there is so much beauty in you waiting to come out and shine. It may not feel possible or likely to you, but there is a way through and it doesn’t involve having to rake through all the stuff in your past, I’m not writing because I want to push anything on you, or anybody, its just that I randomly came across your post and my heart swelled with empathy and a desire to make myself available to help if you wish it. We’ve worked with people with all sorts of issues, some of them incredibly severe, and we’ve been able to help every time. Get in touch if you’d like to explore the idea, otherwise, here’s wishing you the sincerest of luck, love, courage, inspiration and internal sunshine.
    Much love to you in your journey.
    Will

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hi, it’s me, Carol.. just want to tell you what I did in this regard.. but first, your blogs are always interesting so don’t worry about that. And they’re so well written. When I wrote my ‘life story’ I wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything, so decided to start from the beginning and go from there. It was cathartic. When I was living in my horrendously abusive family, ite ‘s like I was too close to it.. couldn’t really see the forest for the trees. Now that I was removed from it, and writing about it, I was better able to see patterns of people’s (abusers) behaviour and get a better overall picture of them.. for example, I always knew there was something drastically wrong with my worst abuser, my mother, but it wasn’t until years later I was able to realize she was a narcissist. It helped to see things in actual written out words. There may be some people who judge you, but I think the majority of us will be able to relate to a lot of your experiences and feel a kindred spirit, or if not, will at least feel deep empathy for you. I’m so sorry things in your family seem to be falling apart.. we mental health folks aren’t easy to live with… I think our familys don’t understand and don’t know what to do and they get to the point where they ‘just want us to get better.. be they way we were before.. and get on with things.. so they try to avoid us until we’re better. That’s why I think there should be at least one family counselling session included in therapy so they can let the family know it isn’t their loved one’s fault that this happened to them, and there’s no timeline for them getting better… it’ll just be at whatever pace it’ll be at. And so on. I think your hubby and daughter are frustrated and feel helpless because there’s nothing they can do to help. At least maybe that’s how they perceive it. Maybe if you tell them you’re having a rough time with this damn depression and could use a hug now and then, it would make them feel useful and a little sympathetic? Anyway, my lovely, you know I’m always sending you love and good thoughts and cheering you on. I wish only the best for you and hope you begin to see a little light at the end of the tunnel start to shine before too long. Much love and many hugs. xxx

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