There’s a black dog on my shoulder again

Hi chaps.

I’m in an awful place right now and I deleted a post at the end of September saying as much, so this one might get deleted too.  I always delete posts that reference anything negative these days, for a couple of reasons.  One being that, because this blog got all popular, because it followed (unintentiionally) an “arc” from, “Mental” to, “Ooh less mental” I got pinned with the, “Recovery Superstar” thing. When I fall sort of that, I feel awful, it is another failure heaped upon my life of failures.

Another being that I am worried about backlash, another about professional bodies getting me done for it, another shame, another being that I am afraid of being Googled by potential employers because, and ha! Paid, non-shift work might actually help save me a bit now.  I think so fondly back to early last year when I had a full time job (working regular shifts) and did part time study and I was the happiest and most stable I had ever been.  I managed, after my initial first month in paid employment in four years wobble, and I managed so well I got a bottle of champagne and an, “I’ve been dreading this” when I said I was leaving to go to uni, and a distinction in my course.  I take some comfort from that, a lot, in fact. My legs were more wobbly and new then than they are now and I still walked.

Stress, intense stress, and shift work is absolutely screwing with my head.  I can’t get regular sleep, I can’t take regular medication (I also can’t take regular medication because my GP surgery, and I hope they are Googled and someone finds this, THE DULWICH MEDICAL CENTRE, are absolutely shambolic and have still not actioned the psychiatrist’s medication changes of upping Lamictal to 200mg, and have left me without a prescription 4 times in a row), I have no balance in my life whatsoever and I never see my husband, and I am earning nothing.  I feel like a failure, I bring nothing to my house but misery and we are heading for financial ruin.  The feeling of contributing nothing to our household weighs on me, the feeling of our plans (we had them, kids, love, time) being on hold because of me, even more so, and even more so when I can’t see a way I can fulfil any of those plans.  And I can’t do a part time job on this course. And I seemingly can’t get any help or support. We’re living somewhere we hate.  This may sound stupid but I have been rotating the same two dresses and one pair of trousers for 3 weeks because all my clothes were stolen from our line.  At first, I thought I lost them. Then I washed all my best stuff (dresses, knickers, cardigans, which I have to wear) to start placement and they were all stolen, everything. I can’t afford to replace them.  And because I’ve gained 20lbs in the past 2 months, I wouldn’t be able to wear them anyway.  Our neighbours blast religious music constantly so we can’t sleep in our bedroom and sleep in the tiny spare room, and I live in the kitchen because the living room is often unusuable due to noise. I have no time or inclination to write, my thoughts are slow and dull, I have no inclination to see anyone or do anything, to move,  I feel as though I am fading away. What happened to that passionate talented person I used to be?  I am ghost.  I walk around the flat like a ghost, I walk through my husband, through life, carrying nothing but guilt and failure and self hatred and wanting to scream like an adolescent, “I HATE MY LIFE” and that feels like a stupid indulgence too. As does blithely saying, “I need a routine, I need money” when for years I tricked and lived as someone without both and thought it was so bohemian and not killing and I hate the fact that, “routine” helps me, as does some sort of creativity, some sort of expression and identifying which I feel I have completely lost (that part is not surprising)  I like evenings, I am better in the evenings.

I am partly depressed because this is what tends to happen to me at this time of year. I have been bitchslapped viciously by depression around September almost every year for… a long time. And I know it doesn’t last.  I know I spend months hating myself, pissing into glasses because I can’t move, eating everything in sight, wanting to sleep constantly, having no energy and having my husband try to cheer me up with jokes like, “Welcome to Seaneen’s chat show, in which she stares into space and doesn’t say a word for an hour”, which did make me smile.  This is my life.  This is what happens to me, and I don’t know why, and I don’t know what to do but make lists and try to carry on but I feel as though I am sinking. It has barely affected my work yet because I am very good at hiding it but inside I am screaming that I desperately need a break to sleep and to think and to recover. And it angers me because what I do now I have been so good at doing until lately. Even with the killing shifts I was managing and was a lot of the time great at it.

But it’s also partly stress, circumstances and situation and I have some hard thinking to do and I am also hard-thinking trying to.  i have worked my arse off for 2 years.  -Edited out stuff because I can’t be bothered-. I am also haunted by not mentioning my dad at my wedding.

I KNOW I am probably “not well” but all I hear in my head that this is stupid indulgence, that I am just not trying hard enough, that I am to blame, complete, drowning shame. I’m not a quitter, I am stupidly committed and hard working in a lot of ways. I know this too.

And even though I KNOW a lot I am still in furnace rage because I WAS FINE and was for a long time and although I KNOW things, because of diagnosis shit in the past few years I still DON’T KNOW or trust why this happens to me even though I almost tediously fall into the criteria for bipolar depression, even though I have been under a lot of stress (I have been under stress before and managed) when I was fine, so it feels like even more of a failure and a weakness than it already did.

So, that’s where I am.  Send love.