These past few weeks have been weird. Odd. Unsettling. I can’t quite put my finger on it. I just seem to be floating along, with no real place anywhere. I’ve wanted to write about it, but it’s been difficult, because I didn’t know what to write about. It’s like my brain can’t form my thoughts and feelings into words, and so there’s nothing. Just a blank screen.
I stopped all of my meds back in January; the double dosage of anti-depressants and the double dosage of sleeping tablets. I went through a pretty awful withdrawal (I stopped cold turkey, and they’re schedule 4 and 5 tablets), so awful in fact that the husband wanted to take me to hospital. But I fought my way through it and felt great, for a few days. And then I felt myself slipping backwards, slowly at first. A weird thought here, a scary daydream there. But then I started slipping a bit faster, and then a bit faster than that, and now all I see is a blur. I was in Cape Town for 12 days in February, and whilst I was grateful for the time away to recharge and take a breath, I came back drained and withdrawn. My mom (short of phoning my shrink herself) pleaded with me to go and see her before I left, but my stubbornness kicked in, and I refused. I missed my appointment in January with her, and haven’t rescheduled. And I don’t want to, because I know what she will want to do, and I’m not ready for that.
I just seem to be right back where I was 11 months ago. I will admit that I’m not at the exact point that I was at, but my lack of interest in pretty much everything no longer concerns me, and that in itself is concerning (contradictory, I know). My new job complicates matters a bit as well, because it’s not so easy to just pop down to my shrink, or out for lunch anymore. I’m working quite a distance away from home and school and doctors, and also the fact that I’m only in my 3rd month here; I can’t be taking off work all the time. The other issue (which I believe is the main contributor to where my psyche is at at the moment) is the fact that I haven’t quite gotten into my new job. I don’t feel settled, I don’t feel comfortable, I don’t feel at home. I made real friends at my former work, people that I will be in touch with for as long as time will allow, and that’s huge for me. Don’t get me wrong; my new company is really great, with wonderful colleagues and a warm working environment. But my job that I’m doing is just not me. I feel like I was misinformed in my interview, or maybe I simply misunderstood. But I’m struggling, I really am.
It’s frustrating to not be able to completely express myself, to explain myself. I have never really been one for my birthday, but have always gone along with everyone’s celebrations and quirks and happiness. Today… Well today the husband and I almost had a massive fight because he is trying his damndest to make my day special; he took all 3 kids to school this morning so that I could go to gym, he had flowers delivered to my work, he’s fetched all 3 kids from school and he wants to make me whatever food I want for supper tonight. And I honestly cannot be bothered by any of it. That sounds so harsh even typing it out, but that’s the honest-to-God truth. And that’s so unfair to him; I know that it is. But I won’t put on a fake smile and laugh along because that too is unfair.
I hate feeling like this. I hate that it is an absolute effort to put a smile on my face. I hate that I want to cry every 5 minutes, and that I have to bury my feelings so deep inside of me so that I don’t. Because by burying them deeper and deeper each time, it’s just that little bit more difficult to dig them out again. I hate that I have such a lack of interest in anything, that the feeling of giving up is upon me, and I am battling to shake it.
It’s like ever since I was “diagnosed” last year, I just haven’t been able to shake it. For years I’ve managed my ups and downs myself, always coming out on top. But since last April, I just haven’t been able to. Maybe it’s the weight of it all, just pushing down on me a little heavier each day, making it all the more difficult to fight it off. I’ve made a helluva lot of massive decisions in the past 5 months; resigning, pretty much “losing” my pension, financial obligations and and and. And I just see no end in sight. My tiny sliver of a silver lining that was once there is now tarnished, and no matter how hard I try to shine it up again, I can’t.
My head just feels so full and so fuzzy, and I’m waiting for it to explode, like the ACME bombs in the old cartoons. My head is actually sore from how busy it is, how full it is. And not headache sore. Full sore. Overloaded sore. Drained sore.
I don’t have a witty or inspiring line like I normally do, to end off this post today.
But at least I have managed to write it.