where'd 3months go?

So today I had to go into work for a meeting to discuss my occupational health referral. I’ve been off sick since feb, 3 months, with depression and anxiety. Before that I was off frequently with migraines and what felt like every bug going. My mood was getting worse and I found myself back in that place I wished I’d never been. Severely depressed and anxious with thoughts of self-harm and suicide. Not a happy place at all.

I was isolating myself, not seeing much of friends or family, getting little enjoyment when I did. I was eating junk food, chocolate and cakes like they were going out of fashion and generally had no self-respect or self-control. I didn’t care enough about myself to give myself a break.

In feb I saw my doc and we agreed a spell off work to get myself together was best so I phoned work, promised it wouldn’t be for long and here I am 3 months later. Loser.
I said I had self-help books to read, relaxation cd’s to listen to, that I would eat better and exercise and although my drinking wasn’t at a level it’s been at in the past, that I would stop drinking. I’d do whatever it took to get healthy and back to work.

How many of these did I actually do? No concentration so the books were useless. Relaxation cd’s came in handy sometimes but weren’t used often. As for eating, well I hated myself so by over-eating I was feeding into my self-hatred, bingeing a lot of the time and making myself sick. I drank with friends and usually got fairly drunk. Bad idea when you suffer from depression and anxiety. After a lot to drink the next couple days my anxiety would be through the roof and thoughts of self-harm were predominant.

Some mornings I would wake up, think to myself I can’t do this, I don’t want to live or that I would harm myself so to keep myself safe I would knock back a sleeping tablet and a few diazepam and knock myself out till I felt I could cope. Not a good coping mechanism but I’m still here and I’m safe and through this episode at least, unscathed.

So what changed? I really don’t know. I’m sure my ex Malcolm was part of why I got so bad but not for the reasons you may think. That’s for another day. I was seeing my GP, my psychologist and also my keyworker at the hospital. At some point I found my fight again. It’s still not fully up to par but it’s getting there. I’ve started exercising more with a new friend I met on twitter. I’m eating well and have stopped drinking because I saw a herbalist and am now on a restrictive anti-candida diet. I’m getting support from medical professionals, friends, family and my work have been very patient.

This isn’t the first time I’ve been off long term sick. I hope it’s the last. I start back june14th if all goes well. It’ll be a phased return, building hours gradually till full time. We discussed this at the meeting and agreed to figure out the details when I go back. In the meantime I’ll continue to do what I’m doing and hope to remain well enough to go back. I know that day I’ll be a nervous wreck just like today. I barely slept and can I just say my stomach was dodgy, but once I got there I was ok. It’s never as bad as you think it’s going to be. I would adopt that as my motto if it weren’t for the fact that sometimes life does get as bad as I think, at least that’s how it feels.

Life is a Rollercoaster

My life is a disaster area, I have come to the conclusion that no good can come of it. I would end it, and I’ve tried, but I can’t do it. Not because I’m a coward but because I’ve put my family through enough and I promised them I wouldn’t. Promises are made to be broken though right?

I’ve had my fair share of shit and probably a few other people’s too, at least that’s what it feels like. I’m a government statistic in several aspects of my life but I don’t think of myself as a ‘woe is me’ type of person. I moan, I cry, I scream and I lash out but I usually laugh at myself more than anyone.

I’m writing this to get all the shit in my head out in the vain hope it helps. I’m not really expecting anyone to read it but since it’s out there that’s a possibility. I have this notion that it’d be more private than a journal. Journals are found and read, and even though anyone could read this, it won’t matter because the people I love are unlikely to, and they’re the ones who’d be hurt by it.

Don’t be mistaken, my life isn’t all bad. There’s a lot of good so this isn’t all doom and gloom. What it will be is random. My moods fluctuate and are rollercoaster-tastic so this shit will be all over the place. I’m not writing this so someone reading says “oh I’m so sorry” at the bad stuff. I’m not writing it to get pity. That’s why I’m telling no-one I know about it. I’m just trying to process stuff.

If anything? Kick my ass. I need it.