As soon as I looked at my phone this morning my anxiety went into overdrive and my mood plummeted. Shouldn't really have been surprised but suddenly the ante and pressure of my move have gone up.
All day I have been clearing, cleaning, throwing things out and fighting against a tide chaos. I don't feel I succeeded but more has gone. I didn't eat lunch until 4.30 and then only a toasted sandwich. Feel in a bit of a haze now. I need to eat again but not sure what. The thought of cooking does not feel good. All I have in is a chicken breast and some vegetables. There re also some pork steaks but they are close to use by date.
I did manage to speak to GP today. Now 27 years into my psychiatric career I have finally been prescribed a small dose of diazepam. Never tried benzos before and am somewhat reluctant knowing what I know about them. It is a weapon of last resort.
At times I feel like crying. They say that is good for us but it's a place I dislike. Despair can bring on that sense of weakness. My mood is not shifting at all and stays stubbornly below the zero line. How long can I keep that up?
People keep trying to lift me up and sometimes for a little while it works. But each day I wake and see more chaos.
Work seems a million miles away now. Thoughts of whether I will ever go back loom large at the lowest moments. It all seems so impossible. They continue to support me though and tell me to take the time I need.
The future looks bleak tonight but I will fight on. Must eat, must stay hydrated and must try to sleep. Jess and Jo are going to help me with the cleaning next week although I fear it is too little too late. My kind friends remain more optimistic than me but I must hang on to the glimmer that comes at the end of each day.
More tomorrow if you're not too bored of me.
I Heard a Voice.
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