I still haven't caught up with those few middling weeks but things are getting to me too much to have the time to sit here and write it all out. See, yesterday Dan had his hospital appointment in Dorchester because the leg he broke years ago hasn't healed properly and has been hurting for a while. His sister Claire and her boyfriend Tristan took us all up and after the appointment we went in to the local market.
I've never been a big fan of shopping, particularly when I have no money in places where there's nothing interesting anyway, but it was a nice-ish day and with good company so I didn't really mind. Then after a while I just started feeling low, and it kept getting lower and I wasn't able to control how I felt or hide it either. We were heading for lunch but by the time we got there a few minutes later my appetite had gone and my mood had sunk so quickly and intensely...I declined food until about the tenth time in a row when Dan practically ordered for me, by which time I was in tears with no idea why and couldn't stop it.
My instinct right there and then was the overpowering urge to leave, to run in the opposite direction and stop causing problems for the people I was with. Dan was distressed because he didn't know why and I can't tell him yet, he felt like people would think it was his fault I was upset which made me feel even worse for affecting him and not being able to control it. It took sitting down and breathing deeply to eventually let it pass.
Looking back at it later it was really more like a panic attack, I got low and then wanted to be alone so I wouldn't make anyone else feel bad, but I didn't have that choice, I had no way of hiding how I felt and it escalated into feeling trapped and panicking. Something similar happened when we were at the cinema getting snacks before going in. There's no trigger, nothing causing it, I can only assume it's the repressed memory and emotion getting too much and breaking out when I least expect it to. It doesn't seem to happen as much on my own, because I feel in control on my own and don't have to worry about anyone else. I'm worried now when it might happen again, because there's no warning, no reason, and it all happens so fast it's devastating and the more it happens around Dan the worse he'll feel. I am concerned it'll happen Saturday in London, but I'm hoping it'll be ok. I'll go to the gp soon, get a referral and sort my head out before it gets any worse.
The other thing I'm concerned about right now is appetite. One week I'll be hungry all the time, or eat even if I'm not hungry, and the next I'll have no want for food at all, barely eating only when it becomes extremely uncomfortable not to. There'll be days when I only have a sandwich and a glass of milk and barely even want that, others I'll get through double breakfast, a big lunch, cooked dinner, and be snacking every hour or even half hour sometimes and still not feel full or satisfied. Today I've had....a pint of milk and a hot chocolate. Oh. Woops. Another thing I'm just not in control of right now.
Thursday 22 October 2009
Monday 19 October 2009
BrainVomit - Money, Trust, Honesty and The NeverEnding Past
I haven't written in a while. I started some blogging offline but haven't finished them, so I guess they'll have to wait. What's on my mind right now is a bit of a combination of things that are troubling me.
~~~~~~~Money~~~~~~~
The first and most obvious is my continued lack of employment. I have to rely on other people to pay for things if I want to do much at all, which although is nice when people offer I just don't like it because I feel a bit like my ex and the way that he used to make me feel obliged to buy him things, even when he didn't directly ask for them I felt it was expected of me to offer and he would get upset, disappointed, or angry if I didn't buy him things or pay for him to go places. This was to the extent that to protect him from a little bit of aggro at stopping going to the jobcentre I was paying his rent that was supposed to come out of his JSA even when I wasn't living there, at the time it was beyond my comprehension not to and to force him to go back to the jobcentre or actually look for one and apply. So now, I feel like by agreeing to go out to say the cinema or somewhere when I can't afford it I'm pushing someone else into paying, even if it was their idea and they offered to pay from the outset.
I'm also concerned about an upcoming trip to London. I desperately want to see the friends I adore but the costs are so high I fear if they go up again I won't be able to make it and will be letting them down and missing out. The train tickets I need were just £20 return the other week, but the day after I checked the prices, when i actually had the money to get them, the price had risen to £45. If these cheaper tickets sell too before I can afford to get them when my JSA comes through on Thursday there's no way it can be done. As it is, the £45 is nearly a week's worth of money gone as I only have £100 per fortnight, then it's another £15 for the ticket, and I'll probably need to take £5 for some food and drink at some point. It's all well and good taking my own but I'll be leaving at 6am and getting home around midnight, I can't really carry that much around all day. So that's £65. I then need another £20, per week, for bus fares just to be able to see Dan and get around town and to the job centre when I need to go, and for interviews if I ever get one of those. Which takes me up to £105. Bugger. But then even after that I need some essentials, like treatment for the headlice we caught from Dan's neices, another £12 at least to do all of my hair, then retaxing and MOT'ing my bike soon so I can stop using the buses and get that on the road which includes getting address changes on all the paperwork, at least another £100....so what I need for the next fortnight for the basics, not counting food or being able to go out anywhere other than Dan's house and my own is £152, and that's before adding the Expo into this. I can't afford anything, I'll have to leave the bike of the road, miss out on seeing Dan, who's the only one keeping me happy most of the time, for at least a week, and just get 7days of bus fares and treatment for my hair and go to London for that one day of enjoyment between stressing constantly about money. I hope I enjoy it and don't get depressed again or it'll be such a waste. I adore my friends and miss them dearly but if I'm miserable I might as well be miserable at home with a few pennies to keep me going.
~~~~~~~Trust~~~~~~~
The second thing that worries me is that although I adore Dan, I'm just speechless to even begin telling him. I can tell him he's appreciated, show him affection, but when it comes to the words...I can't do it. I trust him, he means that much to me and that I know for sure, but it's the self doubt and lack of self confidence piled upon me by all my past relationships with men. I mean, realistically, my first boyfriend (at the admittedly late age of 16) cheated on me. My second was unintentionally neglectful, and was unable to cope with my troubled feelings at the time (the worst point in my depression mostly). My third I'm fairly sure cheated too, and dumped me because of my own personal problems which I was trying to overcome. Moreover, he ditched when he was drunk and I was so ill I could barely stand and had the nerve to ask me for "one last time"< AFTER dumping me, when I was just too ill, upset and confused to say "no, go fuck yourself" and instead rolled over to satisfy his needs like an obedient dog while neglecting my own as usual. This then lead on to my longest relationship which was, although good at first, soon filled with arguments, mistrust, paranoia, posessiveness, isolation, depression, alcoholism, and whether intentionally or not a whole coctail of emotional, psychological and physical abuse. Getting free of that relationship left me free and liberated with renewed confidence, and for some reason still willing to trust. I then stupidly misplaced that trust in the first thing that looked good and ended up being lied to, rejected, and scorned, by a person who was adamant I had admitted feelings to them which I did not have and would never have spoken for that very reason. So now I can't say it, I'm just waiting for something to go wrong. Whether it'll be something I say or do, which with my eternal guilt complex is more than likely (I have to try and stop mysel apologising every 2 minutes, I often think or feel most things are my fault even if I had nothing to do with them), or if he ends up hurting me in some way whether intentionally or not. I'm terrified of being clingy, I'm petrified of letting go, I'm just trying to keep some sort of balance to the insanity of the whole thing.
~~~~~~~Honesty and the NeverEnding Past~~~~~~~
This final stress is the one causing me most worry, the thing that keeps me laying there awake an hour after Dan's gone to sleep, giving me nightmares and waking me up throughout the night leaving me drained in the morning and feeling like I may as well not have bothered going to sleep in the first place for all the good it did. To put it simply and bluntly, without going in to much detail, I didn't have a very good time growing up. I've been reading a book over the last week (which I finished today) that has helped to put certain things into perspective for me, and has made me realise for all my trying to believe the past is behind me it really isn't. It's the cause, whether conscious or not, for the random outbursts of depression. I could be in a perfectly normal happy situation, no triggers at all to make me feel bad, but suddenly I feel completely crushed, very unhappy, tearful sometimes too which makes me feel worse because I know that it brings down the mood of those around me. What's more difficualt is not being able to explain why I feel that way. It usually doesn't make sense to me either. It's just all of a sudden I feel bad, nothing is enjoyable and I don't know what I want or what would make me feel better, and a lot of the time I feel like just running away and being alone just so I'm not making others feel worse.
Even right now typing this, the fingertips on my left hand have gone stone cold, my palm and the base of my fingers are warm but the tips are like ice and painful to boot. It's one of the ways I notice when I'm stressed, it's a common medical phenomenon that causes the blood vessels in the extremities (nose, fingertips, toes) to constrict, which makes them feel cold and often change colour to brighter red or even a more bluey purpley hue. I'm wearing 2 pairs of warm socks and my toes are absolutely frozen numb. It's not cold in here, so there's no other reason for it. Just realised my nose too has followed suit to a chilled temperature. Oh dear.
Anyway, physical symptoms aside, it's these emotional problems that I'm still struggling with. Admittedly, I have nothing like the problems I used to when I was in my late teens (amnesic dissociation, depression, extreme mood swings bordering on manic depression, flashbacks) but the lower level issues (chronic fatigue, periods of depression, problems with food and appetite, general anxiety, low level paranoia) are returning and I fear the rest may follow if I'm not able to deal with the root of the problem soon. Through reading the book I've realised that all of this can be attributed to the same things, and that without accepting, acknowledging and properly recovering I won't really be able to lead the life that I want. Bottling things up, keeping them hidden, putting a face on, none of these things really work and it's about time I stopped doing them, because at the end of the day they'll only do more harm than good.
So in comes honesty, and to a large extent trust also. Do I need to tell the man I care about everything that's going on? I've been left for it before, and don't want him to leave but then wouldn't want him to stay just because I'm considering going back to therapy. Does he need to know? Would he want to know? In knowing the darker parts of my past would he think less of me, or in keeping them from him would he distrust my lack of openness with him? A rather irrational thought that has crossed my mind is should I leave him now and save him the burden if I get worse and save myself the pain if he can't help me or be there when I need him? Would telling him make him feel bad about his own life or would the burden of my own problems push him down as it has me? Even if I decide to tell him how on earth am I supposed to introduce the subject?
Either way, I've decided to somehow persue a solution to my past. It can't be changed but it can be overcome, by facing it head on and kicking it in the nuts. The difference between now and the last time I sought professional help is that now I'm old enough to deal with it, when before I was young, afraid, and having panic attacks every time I stepped foot in the building to see the psychiatrist. This time, I'm prepared, hopefully all will go well, even if it has to get worse before it gets better.
~~~~~~~Money~~~~~~~
The first and most obvious is my continued lack of employment. I have to rely on other people to pay for things if I want to do much at all, which although is nice when people offer I just don't like it because I feel a bit like my ex and the way that he used to make me feel obliged to buy him things, even when he didn't directly ask for them I felt it was expected of me to offer and he would get upset, disappointed, or angry if I didn't buy him things or pay for him to go places. This was to the extent that to protect him from a little bit of aggro at stopping going to the jobcentre I was paying his rent that was supposed to come out of his JSA even when I wasn't living there, at the time it was beyond my comprehension not to and to force him to go back to the jobcentre or actually look for one and apply. So now, I feel like by agreeing to go out to say the cinema or somewhere when I can't afford it I'm pushing someone else into paying, even if it was their idea and they offered to pay from the outset.
I'm also concerned about an upcoming trip to London. I desperately want to see the friends I adore but the costs are so high I fear if they go up again I won't be able to make it and will be letting them down and missing out. The train tickets I need were just £20 return the other week, but the day after I checked the prices, when i actually had the money to get them, the price had risen to £45. If these cheaper tickets sell too before I can afford to get them when my JSA comes through on Thursday there's no way it can be done. As it is, the £45 is nearly a week's worth of money gone as I only have £100 per fortnight, then it's another £15 for the ticket, and I'll probably need to take £5 for some food and drink at some point. It's all well and good taking my own but I'll be leaving at 6am and getting home around midnight, I can't really carry that much around all day. So that's £65. I then need another £20, per week, for bus fares just to be able to see Dan and get around town and to the job centre when I need to go, and for interviews if I ever get one of those. Which takes me up to £105. Bugger. But then even after that I need some essentials, like treatment for the headlice we caught from Dan's neices, another £12 at least to do all of my hair, then retaxing and MOT'ing my bike soon so I can stop using the buses and get that on the road which includes getting address changes on all the paperwork, at least another £100....so what I need for the next fortnight for the basics, not counting food or being able to go out anywhere other than Dan's house and my own is £152, and that's before adding the Expo into this. I can't afford anything, I'll have to leave the bike of the road, miss out on seeing Dan, who's the only one keeping me happy most of the time, for at least a week, and just get 7days of bus fares and treatment for my hair and go to London for that one day of enjoyment between stressing constantly about money. I hope I enjoy it and don't get depressed again or it'll be such a waste. I adore my friends and miss them dearly but if I'm miserable I might as well be miserable at home with a few pennies to keep me going.
~~~~~~~Trust~~~~~~~
The second thing that worries me is that although I adore Dan, I'm just speechless to even begin telling him. I can tell him he's appreciated, show him affection, but when it comes to the words...I can't do it. I trust him, he means that much to me and that I know for sure, but it's the self doubt and lack of self confidence piled upon me by all my past relationships with men. I mean, realistically, my first boyfriend (at the admittedly late age of 16) cheated on me. My second was unintentionally neglectful, and was unable to cope with my troubled feelings at the time (the worst point in my depression mostly). My third I'm fairly sure cheated too, and dumped me because of my own personal problems which I was trying to overcome. Moreover, he ditched when he was drunk and I was so ill I could barely stand and had the nerve to ask me for "one last time"< AFTER dumping me, when I was just too ill, upset and confused to say "no, go fuck yourself" and instead rolled over to satisfy his needs like an obedient dog while neglecting my own as usual. This then lead on to my longest relationship which was, although good at first, soon filled with arguments, mistrust, paranoia, posessiveness, isolation, depression, alcoholism, and whether intentionally or not a whole coctail of emotional, psychological and physical abuse. Getting free of that relationship left me free and liberated with renewed confidence, and for some reason still willing to trust. I then stupidly misplaced that trust in the first thing that looked good and ended up being lied to, rejected, and scorned, by a person who was adamant I had admitted feelings to them which I did not have and would never have spoken for that very reason. So now I can't say it, I'm just waiting for something to go wrong. Whether it'll be something I say or do, which with my eternal guilt complex is more than likely (I have to try and stop mysel apologising every 2 minutes, I often think or feel most things are my fault even if I had nothing to do with them), or if he ends up hurting me in some way whether intentionally or not. I'm terrified of being clingy, I'm petrified of letting go, I'm just trying to keep some sort of balance to the insanity of the whole thing.
~~~~~~~Honesty and the NeverEnding Past~~~~~~~
This final stress is the one causing me most worry, the thing that keeps me laying there awake an hour after Dan's gone to sleep, giving me nightmares and waking me up throughout the night leaving me drained in the morning and feeling like I may as well not have bothered going to sleep in the first place for all the good it did. To put it simply and bluntly, without going in to much detail, I didn't have a very good time growing up. I've been reading a book over the last week (which I finished today) that has helped to put certain things into perspective for me, and has made me realise for all my trying to believe the past is behind me it really isn't. It's the cause, whether conscious or not, for the random outbursts of depression. I could be in a perfectly normal happy situation, no triggers at all to make me feel bad, but suddenly I feel completely crushed, very unhappy, tearful sometimes too which makes me feel worse because I know that it brings down the mood of those around me. What's more difficualt is not being able to explain why I feel that way. It usually doesn't make sense to me either. It's just all of a sudden I feel bad, nothing is enjoyable and I don't know what I want or what would make me feel better, and a lot of the time I feel like just running away and being alone just so I'm not making others feel worse.
Even right now typing this, the fingertips on my left hand have gone stone cold, my palm and the base of my fingers are warm but the tips are like ice and painful to boot. It's one of the ways I notice when I'm stressed, it's a common medical phenomenon that causes the blood vessels in the extremities (nose, fingertips, toes) to constrict, which makes them feel cold and often change colour to brighter red or even a more bluey purpley hue. I'm wearing 2 pairs of warm socks and my toes are absolutely frozen numb. It's not cold in here, so there's no other reason for it. Just realised my nose too has followed suit to a chilled temperature. Oh dear.
Anyway, physical symptoms aside, it's these emotional problems that I'm still struggling with. Admittedly, I have nothing like the problems I used to when I was in my late teens (amnesic dissociation, depression, extreme mood swings bordering on manic depression, flashbacks) but the lower level issues (chronic fatigue, periods of depression, problems with food and appetite, general anxiety, low level paranoia) are returning and I fear the rest may follow if I'm not able to deal with the root of the problem soon. Through reading the book I've realised that all of this can be attributed to the same things, and that without accepting, acknowledging and properly recovering I won't really be able to lead the life that I want. Bottling things up, keeping them hidden, putting a face on, none of these things really work and it's about time I stopped doing them, because at the end of the day they'll only do more harm than good.
So in comes honesty, and to a large extent trust also. Do I need to tell the man I care about everything that's going on? I've been left for it before, and don't want him to leave but then wouldn't want him to stay just because I'm considering going back to therapy. Does he need to know? Would he want to know? In knowing the darker parts of my past would he think less of me, or in keeping them from him would he distrust my lack of openness with him? A rather irrational thought that has crossed my mind is should I leave him now and save him the burden if I get worse and save myself the pain if he can't help me or be there when I need him? Would telling him make him feel bad about his own life or would the burden of my own problems push him down as it has me? Even if I decide to tell him how on earth am I supposed to introduce the subject?
Either way, I've decided to somehow persue a solution to my past. It can't be changed but it can be overcome, by facing it head on and kicking it in the nuts. The difference between now and the last time I sought professional help is that now I'm old enough to deal with it, when before I was young, afraid, and having panic attacks every time I stepped foot in the building to see the psychiatrist. This time, I'm prepared, hopefully all will go well, even if it has to get worse before it gets better.
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