Monday, bloody Monday

I could write two lists today: one no how to cope with depression and another on how not to. Both would be relvant to my weekend.

I actually had a good weekend up until about half 9 last night. I spent time with my old boss, I had a lovely meal out with Al, we spent Sunday morning curled up on the couch watching telly, I helped a friend move some furniture on the way back.....and then I got home.  And things got bad.

 

Al and I ended up having a screaming match over the phone last night. God that sounds awful doesn't it? Well mostly it was me screaming and him talking in his Hannibal Lector voice. That voice scares the hell out of me – hence the screaming. He'd been out and he'd been drinking and he'd gotten really down and wasn't listening to anything I was saying to try and cheer him up. It got to the point where I was sobbing so hard my chest hurt and I was getting really panicky. That's when he started to realise what he was doing and stopped and got all apologetic.

 

It really scared me though – he hasn't been like that in at least 2yrs – and it's all that bloody school. The sooner he can get out of there the better. He's getting antsy cos he's not in work and he thinks cos he's a mental (his words) no employer will ever want him. I couldn't persuade him that there are employers out there that have a good ethical code and that do look after employees with disability, regardless of the disability, but he just wouldn't listen. He was talking about how every artist needs his dark side and how he needs to explore that dark side and then couldn't understand why I was starting to panic at that point and went on to say that if he hadn't killed himself by 42, he wasn't going to do it so there was no need for me to worry and I should stop being so silly. And it was all in this really horrible creepy Hannibal Lector voice. So that's when I really screamed at him – the phone at this point was on the floor beside me and I was just screaming into it for him to shut up.

 

I think it was then he realised what he was doing properly and he at least stopped talking like that and started talking like Al again. But I was so scared and panicked. What can I do when he gets like this and I'm 150miles away? I can't do a damn thing! But he won't leave the school cos that would be admitting defeat.

 

This morning I feel a bit better – I think I just turned my brain off last night at some point, but it was awful, really horrible. And after we'd had such a good weekend as well. I'm thinking I need to start focussing my search in Northamptonshire area so I can at least be close enough to him to be able to see him during the week.

 

But this morning I can also feel this black cloud hanging over me. I can feel the walls closing in. I can feel the windows close up and the air stop moving. I can feel my world shrinking til all there is feels like one tiny black point of pain and despair. I started really well this morning. I had my porridge for breakfast. I made lunch to bring into work. I remembered to bring a snack. And then I was starving this morning and my snack didn't touch it. So I got a bar of chocolate and a sausage roll. And now I feel sick. And all this is leading to the thoughts in my head going round and round and round, spiralling out of control. Typing this out was meant to help but it's not.

 

I need to take a step back and do something productive. Unfortunately I'm in work, so productive is limited. What I want to do is to find out all those things I need to know – all the things that will help me and him and get us to where I need to be. I need to talk this out with someone who knows me. Someone who isn't related to me but knows me. I think I may need another session with Sharon. I think I will email her this morning.

 

I want to be at home, curled up in bed, crying my eyes out. I want to be at home, warm and snug, hidden from the world. I don't want to be in work, I don't want to be with people, I want to be away, away, away. But I'm being sensible. Hiding in bed achieves nothing. I need to take proactive steps to get better. Eat properly and sensibly. Get some exercise.  Partake in a social life. Get myself in order. All needs to be done.

 

So why is the thought of telling my boss I'm ill and staying in bed all day so appealing?