I seem to be afraid of a lot of things at the moment, things that are both (technically at least) within my control, as well as those over which I have no control. So, I'm going to go ahead and make a list of the things that are churning around my head, and see if I can persuade myself that I don't need to be so scared.
- the extremely, unbelievably negative self talk/criticism that's playing on a loop in my head
- I'm pushing my kids away
- I'm pushing Hubby away
- this isn't withdrawal, it's me. This is all so reminiscent of how I felt two years ago before the whole medication rollercoaster started
- it's my own fault
- I don't want to be alone
- I don't want to talk to anyone
- I can't keep going with this level of emotional upheaval
- guilt. Never ending, ever present, guilt, for all of the above
It is EXHAUSTING. In the extreme. There was a panic text to Therapist this morning, followed an hour later by an apology. There were tears at her supportive response. Tears over the phone to Hubby. There was some shouting. I may have ignored the doorbell a couple of times (although, in my defence, I wasn't dressed and I looked terrifying - bed fringe). All of this, all of it, before 10am.
I need to try and counter all of the above list. So much of this has spiralled since my visit to the hospital
on Tuesday, and the sense of absolute hopelessness that that caused. I think I'm done with psychiatrists for a while. My GP has given me details of a private clinic to consider, but really, I need to just let all of this settle, let my system settle, and stop beating myself up, literally and figuratively.
So here goes:
- I'm shorter with my kids than I'd like, but I'm here. I can still listen. I can still provide hugs. I can even still make them laugh. For the next few days I need to avoid my trigger situations, primarily, getting them out of the house on time. Massive flashpoint for me.
- Self and Hubby are talking. He knows what's going on. I can tell him how hard this is, he can tell me as and when he needs space. It's not easy, but I'm not pushing him away.
- I'm only 3 weeks off antidepressants. It takes 6-8 for your body to adjust to starting them, I'm working hard to hold onto that because I would imagine it similarly means it takes 6-8 weeks for your body to adapt to stopping them.
- It's not my fault. It's brain flu.
- I'm ok on my own, I need to learn how to manage the low moments and get through them.
- I'll be ok when I'm talking to people (which I actually just proved to myself by talking like a reasonably well adjusted human being to the two friends I bumped into on a trip to the shops). Also, and this is a bonus, I was able to admit to them both that I'm not ok. Neither ran screaming.
- I can keep going. I've come this far.
- Guilt? Ok, I've a spot of work to do on that one.
I'm not going to lie, this is an absolute nightmare, one I wouldn't wish on anyone. But I have to see it through. It's so tempting to give in, to plead to be given more medication, but I know that only gives limited relief, and then this whole scenario would just be pushed out another 6 months. I have to believe that this is finite, that it's just my brain rebalancing. I have to slow down. I have to stop shouting at myself. I need to print this and pin it at various points around the house.......
......because at the end of the day, it's true. I can't see it right now, not in the slightest. But I want it for my kids, I want them to know it. And the best way for them to learn? From seeing me believe it. So I'll try. I'll try.
Labels: anger, bitchface, compassion, crying, emotion, guilt, honesty, hopeless, inner critic, negative thoughts, psychiatrist, relapse, Rumination, Self care, self control, self harm, thought spiral, triggers, withdrawal