I’ve fought so hard to not write this blog. I feel like I’m failing by thinking it, let alone reading it, but hopefully someone out there will take comfort in this and knowing we all still struggle.
I finished my therapy back in November and my main medications in December. And I’ve been doing ok, but since Christmas I’ve had a few wobbles. There I’ve said it! And breathe…
I feel like I’ve been trying to convince myself and everyone else so much that I’m fine, that I’m ok, I’m much better, that I haven’t take my usual precautions to look after my head. My mindfulness, using my headspace app, time with friends, social outings, good sleep patterns, eating well, reading.., I could go on.
Last week I was repeatedly told as I opened up, that it’s ok that I’m struggling. I think I needed someone to tell me it was ok. Over January i think I’ve cried more that the whole of 2019 put together, but there’s reasons for that. In fact it’s normal. I’ve not laid in bed, or refused to go out, I’ve not cancelled any meetings or let down the kids. I’ve just felt emotional and that’s understandable, for over a year my emotions were completely frozen by medication and I hadn’t felt real sadness or been overwhelmed. I’d be numb. It was necessary while I learnt to heal, while I got better and attended therapy, but it wasn’t real. And now life is real again which means I get upset, frustrated and anxious. I worry about the slightest thing and it feels scary to be in that position again.
Each day I’m learning to deal with every day stuff. Just life. Stuff you probably deal with all the time, but it’s like starting again for me. I’m taking things personally, way to personally, I’m feeling judged, left out, lonely, awkward, anxious, and that can be just going to fetch some milk.
I’ve cried, a lot, and in front of people I didn’t want to, but it’s done now and I have to accept that I did it. I’m still learning.
I reached out to my CPN who understands where I’m coming from. We decided that one of the things I’m really missing is the 121 therapy sessions. So I’m looking into a private therapist to meet with. It’s expensive but I think it will be worth while for me.
Without my mum or best friend, I miss just generally chatting about my day or week. Some good, some bad and some just general thoughts that have gotten stuck ruminating around my head. Some poor soul usually cops for a months worth of my talking and venting, then spends the next 6 months trying to avoid me. It’s like the bucket analogy, I tell everyone I’m fine, I’m coping, it’s all good and then the tiniest thing sending me into a panic that everything is a catastrophe and feeling like I’ve let everyone down and I’m a giant failing mess. And the bucket completely overflows and tips over and when others look all they see is a little drip or drop that tipped me over the edge.
Rational me knows this is not the case, that I’m good at some things and not so good at others. Rational me also knows that very few people are good at everything, but rational me doesn’t seem to be around much at the moment. I’m working on that.
So Im taking it on the chin, I said there’d be bumps, and I’m still moving forward. Still doing my thing. Still recovering.
I didn’t want to go out today, but I did.
I wanted to hide away, but I didn’t.
So if you feel you’ve gotten better, then something happens and you feel like you’ve started to slip back. It’s ok. You’re not starting again, it’s just a little detour and you can carry on.
Sarah x
sarahsthinkingagain 