Ummmm, I’m out of sorts

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On World Mental Health Day I checked Twitter to see what was happening in the world.  At the top of my timeline was a Tweet from the lovely @Karamina and I read the link, I walked to the computer, switched on the screen and sent her a message which said “you’ve given me strength to blog mine”.

(Now, I do realise that I should have blogged on World Mental Health Day but the day ran away from me and I thought I would leave it for another year, but then I decided not to leave it for another year.  Why should I wait for another year when it’s not just World Mental Health Day that I feel wobbly or over emotional or downright bloody desperately miserable?)

If you know me you will have read the words below, but if not then I will give you some background.

I’m 44, a mother of 3, my husband works hard and can’t bear it when I ask him a computer related question. I organise events, find gift solutions and generally just chat to everyone – some call it networking but it doesn’t seem like work to me!

There are times in my life when it all becomes too much, when simple things really aren’t that simple; when the camel’s back is broken by straws; when a comment is taken out of context and then IT happens.  Well this is how IT happens for me.

I acknowledge a great big fat and ugly unwelcome guest into my life and this unwelcome guests takes charge of my emotions and I am so weakened that I let this unwelcome guest take over and before I know it I am crying at everything, I am emotional, I am tired, I am weak and I am angry.

However, I am also strong and my strength resents the impact the unwelcome guest has on my life and with this knowledge I do what is often the hardest thing to do and I say to myself quietly at first, then out loud, then to whoever might be listening “I am stressed and anxious” and before I know it I have put my hand up and said to the one person who will listen to me and not judge “hello, I’m sort of, ummm, feeling a little down, a little anxious, I’m not sleeping and I wake up and I panic and I’m anxious” and my Dr says “oh dear, how long have you been feeling like that?”.

I was struggling a month or so ago, crikey I can’t even think what set me off but suddenly everything was bothering me and I was at my low again.

Waking up one night – again I decided to share how I was really feeling with my FB friends.  This is what I wrote:-

I go to sleep, I wake up, I go to sleep, I wake up, I panic about going back to sleep, I go to sleep and the alarm clock goes off and I panic.

Then it’s the day with nothing that huge to be anxious about in the grand scheme of things.

Meanwhile I’m anxious about I don’t know what.  I think, wonder and worry about everything like did I really check I’ve locked the doors, did I draw the curtains, did I forget anything and panic that the dog can’t eat anything.

I watch the clock and hope the children get out on time.

I want to be at home, but it’s not perfectly tidy and I’ve not got the strength to suggest anyone god forbid could put anything away.

The discussion about food, the angst at what food is currently favourite because it always changes and I was told 3 weeks ago that they hated what they like now and vice versa.

Oh and they want to choose the plate colour but it’s not fair.

Thoughts then turn to relaxation and bedtime but there’s a drama about a book out of place and a spelling not done and the printer isn’t working and the need to be in school earlier because of something so important that it’s only just been spoken off.

Then the hush.

The sound of the motorway distant in the dark.

The soundless sounds of clearing the debris and detritus from the mind of the day.

Sleep follows.

I go to sleep, I wake up, I’ve forgotten something.

There’s 3 gorgeous things I won’t forget.

They’re loud, they’re constant and they’re changing.

They’re asleep. Safe. Loved. Loved, as in always being loved and always will be loved.

I go to sleep, I wake up.

Like a circle in a spiral like a wheel within a wheel.

 

Admitting IT is the hardest thing to do. I have admitted it, will you?

 

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4 responses »

  1. Yes I will because what you write is how I feel, although I can sleep. The house is a mess but I won’t let anyone put anything away in case it goes in the wrong place. I’m rubbish at organising myself to get out and shout at my husband that it’s his fault. I’m anxious everywhere I go that I don’t know the dangers and escape routes that I won’t be able to protect The Boy is a mass murderer comes in and attacks me and then him. Or worse attacks me and I can’t protect him. That’s the big one. I can’t have the dining room doors open in the house if I’m not in the room in case someone comes in.

    And I’m a strong person and I want to slap myself.

    • I’ve been ruthless in the bin bag department this past week. All on my own without anyone poking their nose in and needing the scrap of paper that is at the bottom! As well as putting my hand up I’m also going to let go.

      You are strong x

  2. I totally agree that admitting it is the hardest thing you can do. It took me a good 5 years to admit that I had problems with my mental health. I then got help, and got better, but now I’m wondering as to whether I’m slipping back, but can I admit that to myself again, never mind anyone else? Well done for speaking up. I hope you realise that you are loved no matter whether the door has been locked or the curtains have been drawn.

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