I tried really hard last week to settle into working from home, helping the youngest try to keep up with some schoolwork (we’re back to online learning indefinitely) and being a mother all at the same time. There are so many memes about how to make the best of this time and loads of advice for parents who ‘find themselves home schooling’. It’s too much and is such bullshit and clearly not written by people who will also be trying to work full time at home. It’s all about holding myself together and holding someone else together too. It feels absolutely impossible to cope with.
And now today, I have this deep sense of just hitting the wall. I’ve not slept well the last few weeks and unfortunately I have never been one who can function properly on little sleep. I’ve been trying some of the meditation apps that T showed me to try to help me relax at bedtime and either I’m crap at them or they just don’t seem to be working. A few days ago I broke down and upped my Seroquel and while I know it’s not given to me specifically for sleep, it’s the only thing that seems to help at the moment. The bad? I feel completely groggy and foggy-headed during the days.
I’m still trying to work today, but things feel extremely slow and I can’t seem to access my brain to get any work done. I’m doing the best that I can, but it’s all a bit frustrating to be honest. I also have this feeling like I’m forgetting to do something that absolutely needs to be done by tomorrow even though it’s probably nothing at all. I find myself constantly distracted and frustrated with myself for not getting more done. The feelings of uselessness and incompetence have been lingering, as much as I wish they wouldn’t.
I’m also waiting for a call to see a psychiatrist. The wait times in my city are absolutely ridiculous and you’d be lucky if you were able to see someone in under a year but a few weeks ago T reached out to a colleague of his and she’s agreed to see me and is currently waiting for the referral from my GP. I hope to be able to see her within the next month or so and hopefully we’ll be able to figure out which meds are and aren’t helping with the situation. T thinks it’s an amazing thing and is hopeful that this is just what we need to start to settle things out for me. I hope he’s right because I’m honestly not sure how much longer I can keep going on this way. I actually know her personally (we went to high school together) and that feels like a strange thing because while she’s a really nice person it feels odd to think about talking to someone who knew me all those years ago when I was in the midst of being abused yet nobody knew anything about it.
If things didn’t feel bad enough, T currently feels 5 million miles away from me, but I’m trying to act as though I’m perfectly fine and that I don’t need him at all. I can take care of myself, right? Just like before. Just like always.
You would think I would be used to it by now. It shouldn’t still be this way. I don’t care what anyone says, it isn’t right, it isn’t normal and it isn’t okay. It’s shit really. It’s shit and it’s shameful and it’s ridiculous. As a grown adult, you would think that maybe, just maybe, I could keep it together to survive 5 days without feeling like I need to talk to him; without feeling like he has just disappeared from the face of the earth. Gah, it’s so fucking pathetic……
I don’t know how some people make it look so easy—connecting with another person. To me, it’s one of the most difficult things in the world. Sometimes I can feel it happening but the anxiety and uncontrollable urge to run away takes over. It feels quite acute lately—wanting to disengage—work, home, life in general. I know it’s time to start paying attention again but part of me doesn’t even want to. Part of me just wants to let my mind do whatever it wants to do….
My past sticks to me like superglue. I can’t rip it off without feeling like it will cause more damage. It feels so absolutely permanent and impenetrable. I know I need to get rid of it. I just want it to be as painless as possible. The way I feel about it constantly changes and it makes it difficult to understand. Even if I try to deny every single thing that happened, the damage was done.
Some days, I simply need that expectation of T being there. I need it like I need air to breathe. I need him and I hate needing him. It’s awful to be so afraid of him abandoning me and I feel like I have done something wrong. One day I was mad at him because it felt like he left me here all alone to deal with everything. Then the next day the anger settled a little but somehow, in the time in between, I lost him. I’m terrified that it is my anger that caused it to happen.
He promises he’ll always come back. He promises that unless it is physically impossible for him to do so, he will come back. I want to believe him. I want to believe that in just a few days when I walk up those creaky old stairs his door will be open and he’ll be sitting there waiting for me because nothing will have the power to break what we’ve built together over these last few years.