Death by 1k cuts

Moving house (or at least trying to) is one of the worst things I have/am doing in my entire life. The amount of damage this whole process has done to my mental health is unreal… and it isn’t even over yet.

So we nearly made it. We saw a beautiful house that we fell in love with and accepted an offer for. We were nearly at the end of the process when the mom of the family got seriously ill (hello trigger) and they had to pull out. So we went back to a house we’d made an offer on the week before we saw the house that made me cry and after a load of toing and froing he finally accepted the same offer that we made 2 months previously. Aka if he had actually accepted our offer at that point we would have probably already moved.

This whole process has been especially horrific thanks to the fact that it hinges entirely on me. My current house (that I own thanks to my mom dying) is the deposit along with the last of my inheritance. Therefore everything to do with selling this place can only go through me. Oh and I have crippling financial anxiety thanks to growing up broke and having dyscalculia. I thought I’d factored in all of the costs involved but apparently not given things like getting pressured to get the heating and electrics tested (at my cost) that then got used to barter more off the price, insurance indemnities for the area where you put the bin out etc.

2 weeks ago our solicitor said he would propose signing the contracts last Friday and moving this Friday. We then both got Covid for the first time but obviously we still might have to move. Picture us hauling stuff out of the loft, boxing things up all while coughing and having temperatures. I’m ringing moving firms trying to get quotes but I can’t book anything because I don’t have a definite date and unless I have that then I lose my deposit.

Finally chase the solicitor who admits by the day before we are supposed to be signing that we won’t be because our buyer’s solicitor still has a stupid query. So everything is back on hold. Most of what we own is in boxes. I am exhausted.

I am so, so so tired. I do not have anything left. If this falls through I’ve told my husband I give up. I can’t start this over again. The kids will have to suck it up, we will have to suck it up.

I wake up every day during the working week with a sense of dread because there might be yet another email needing money or another set of quotes I need to get or another piece of bad fucking news. I wake up on the weekend surrounded by fucking boxes, unable to find things. I can’t move around my own home.

I am so exhausted. I have a fear response to the googlemail pop up which is not very useful when Linkedin keeps emailing me.

But apparently this is all just me ‘sucking the fun’ out of moving house! Oh what a terrible drag I am PAYING FOR EVERYTHING, RINGING EVERYONE and HAVING TO DEAL WITH ALL OF THIS SHIT AND GIVE UP MY SAFE, PAID FOR SPACE FOR 2 KIDS WHO WOULDN’T CARE IF I DROPPED DEAD.

What am I doing? This is the only space I’ve known for 10 years. It’s got me through the treacherous ending of a 7 year relationship, job losses, my mom passing away. It became my security and my thing to rely on even through its unreliable angles.

I’m trying to tell myself that this is going to be beneficial for me and my family but in the other part of my mind all I can see are the rising fuel bills everyone is experiencing and the cost of living shooting up.

I just want this to be over. I want to wake up in the morning in a room where I know that I won’t have to move everything I own. I want to be able to put my art up and my altars. I want to feel settled and I haven’t felt settled in well over a year and a half now.

My dad sent me a letter and I just don’t care. I don’t have the capacity to care about things at the moment. I’m sick of feeling. I started disassociating last week from stress. I feel on the edge of tears almost all the time. I can’t make plans because I don’t know when The Event is going to happen.

I am so so so exhausted and I don’t have anyone to talk to about it.

The Great Sertraline Experiment

So as I said before I embarked on this big adventure, I didn’t want it to be permanent. I just needed some help trying to get through the dark months of things still being locked down.

The weight gain has been… real. But I can’t exactly blame the drugs 100%. My husband dropped out of work due to his own mental health issues in June and couldn’t get another job until literally last week. As much as I wanted him to have time to help himself and be supported I feel like this has achieved very little.

Last week I went off to type up some stuff I’ve been working on, happy and buzzing about my creativity coming, I come back downstairs and he’s sat alone in the dark with just one light on. He’d recorded… not quite a suicide note but something bad. In it… I mean he said afterwards when he saw how much it upset me that it wasn’t about me but it was. At least 55%. About how he ‘could never break’ and he had to be the one to help all the time. BITCH I HAVE SPONSORED YOUR MENTAL HEALTH BREAKDOWN FOR 4 MONTHS. I HAVE PAID FOR YOUR KIDS’ SHOES. I told him he needed to get help, he said he didn’t need it. I offered to get him booked in with my cousellor or any counsellor and he said no. I’m hoping his first week back in work will actually jog him back into being somewhat okay.

Anyway… in terms of my drugs. I spoke to the Dr last week and as she said that I was only on 50mg I could basically just come off by doing alternate days for one week and then just stopping. I started, so overjoyed to not be dependant on medication (I have issues with me/people not being able to cope on their own, thanks parents!), I completely didn’t think about the fact I was going to be away for work for 3 days.

So I took my last tablet on Monday. I’m on Thursday now and I have just been crying on and off all day. It feels like all of my empathy has switched on all at once. A story about a woman having to have an abortion because of her baby’s crippling health issues has sent me over. I feel so overwhelmed today by everything. I don’t know if this is the meds or just me being in PMS central.

The past 2 days I’ve just been so tired and wanting to fall asleep. Again, is this the side effects or is this just me? The NHS guidelines don’t specify and I have literally no one to talk to to ask. Everyone I know who has taken this has stayed on it (another reason I want to come off). The Dr said I wouldn’t feel withdrawal for 2 weeks but am I just going downhill and just applying it to the drugs?

I feel like I need a holiday but from everything. It was nice to go away for work to get some space from the house but obviously it was work involved and I am so not used to seeing people face to face for entire days anymore. Maybe I’m just coming down from that?

I’m determined not to go back on meds again. I knew that expecting my brain to know how to make its own serotonin was too much to hope for -_-

Don’t start new meds when your step kids are here

I’ve got my follow up appointment with my doctor on Thursday. It’s hard to say at the moment whether I’m actually feeling better or not and I know it can take time to bed in…

On the plus side: I don’t have my horrifically self destructive voice. I’ve had no intrusive thoughts. I haven’t felt continually sad the entire time. I haven’t been crying as much. In a weird way after extensive testing I’ve found that chocolate doesn’t ‘hit’ the same way it used to, it’s just a food now rather than a mood enhancing drug.

On the downside: I keep feeling sick off and on. I’ve just felt really, really tired. My motivation hasn’t reappeared yet. I just don’t really feel like doing much of anything.

The ‘o’ problem is still occurring. I read an article saying to try before you take your next dose to give it a go because the levels of the chemicals are low in your body but… no. I don’t think I’m brave enough to raise it with the doctor… I just keep trying to rehearse the conversation in my head and I can’t do it. Even if it was a female doctor.

The issue with the ‘feeling tired’ thing is that I don’t know whether this is just the side effect of having a 5 and 6 year old in the house who have decided to take out all their pent up frustration on us. The 6yo is basically acting like a 16 yo and I am SO TIRED of fighting against her. It’s just made me the happiest that I have ever been about my decision to not have kids. I don’t have the energy to look after myself let alone them.

I mean at first it was good. I was so stoned on the drugs that nothing they were doing or saying was getting to me.

Then we went to the playground and I was sat on a bench watching them play, not wanting to move or do much of anything. There was a lady there that was this blonde, beautiful Scandanavian woman who was playing with her kids and she was just….. so alive. She was having fun with them and engaging with them and you could see all the kids, even my step kids, were drawn to her… and then there’s just me slumped on a bench looking like a blob fish. She spoke to me as she left about my 2 and I just… I didn’t feel like I was even worthy of being spoken to.

I just hope that they know that we’re doing our best. It doesn’t feel like it at the moment.

There’s supposed to be another press conference today about ‘opening things up’ but from the sound of it basically nothing is going to change until May. It just feels so hopeless.

The kids are going back today so I’m hoping I can try and drag myself back onto the band wagon and get myself back on track with losing weight and doing exercise etc.

Shit shit shit

So. Day 5 of sertraline, had the night to myself so decided to indulge in some “me time” and… nothing. Tried harder. Nothing. Googled “anti depressants stop orgasms” and a whole page of results.

Some things say it might just he a short term thing. Some say it is just the way it is while I’m on the meds. The idea of this being a thing for 6 months is pretty terrifying to be honest.

That and the fact everything I looked at said weight gain was a thing which is just.. not what I want at the moment. I mean the good thing is that this is all working in that the overwhelming sadness and depression is gone. The past day or so the sickness has kind of gone. I just don’t really have any interest in food anymore but I don’t know if that is just how normal people should be. Like I ordered a shitload of chocolate in the sales and it came today so once my husband had gone to work I broke into it and… nothing. I guess one other good side effect is that I feel so…neutral that even when the step kids are annoying it isn’t getting to me.

I feel terrified at how this is affecting my body and that makes me want to stop but now I am kind of scared to. I just want to keep them till we can get out of this bastard never ending lockdown. Even if I could just get the gym back it would be something to fight back with.

I’ll keep going, I’ve gone too far now to stop..

But I’m scared

Cool kids club

I finally gave in today, made notes and then rang the doctors. I ended up having a phone appointment today with a very nice Doctor who listened to me and was understanding. Explained my diagnosis in 2017, explained I knew at that point that my issues needed counselling rather than meds because the meds wouldn’t take away what I’d been through, explained that my coping mechanisms have all evaporated courtesy of covid and lockdowns, explained I’ve just got to the end of the road with anything I can do myself.

I went for a 2 hour walk yesterday to the supermarket that’s further away as something to do. I hadn’t eaten all day, came home and stuffed my face with biscuits and chocolate. Super healthy choices me, huzzah.

So I’ve got a prescription waiting for me today at the pharmacy and then an appointment in 2 weeks to discuss how I’m getting on. The Dr actually asked me what I wanted to go on and out of prozac and sertraline I chose the later as my depression guru friend has recommended it before. I said I was concerned about side effects or getting hooked but he said that in itself was a good sign as not wanting to be on them in the first place means I should hopefully know when to draw the line under it. He’s recommending 6 months and then coming off so we’ll see what happens. Given the way the world has been I can’t even imagine whether things will be better or worse in 6 months. My husband pointed out we might even be in another house by that point which is… weird.

Talking through with the doctor I said I understand it isn’t going to be a magical cureall. I get it won’t make me happy but just not feeling so awful would be a good first step. Sometimes I just wish that I knew what a normal human being was meant to feel like.

I’m just sad that it’s got to this point but I’m not sad I’ve gone to get help. I’m still scared of side effects and everything else that goes hand and hand with it but if I don’t do anything at all it’s not going to change.

Riding the wave

I feel so awful today. Like continually on the verge of tears that aren’t coming out. I feel flat. It’s the kind of level of depression I haven’t had for a long time, the kind of insidious bit of “there’s no point to anything”.

I made myself do my exercise for the first time in probably a week. It wasn’t even that I hated doing it… it was like I just couldn’t see the point even more than usual.

I’m going to make myself walk to a shop and back that’s further out than normal tonight and not one I go to just for something to do.

All day and all last night I’ve been knocking around the idea of going on anti-depressants. I just worry about the side effects and the withdrawal effects. The idea of taking something that makes me put loads of weight on is also terrifying when I feel so out of control with it as it is.

I’m so tired all the time. I know this another one of my bad signs.

The interesting thing is that amongst all of this the suicidal bit hasn’t come back again. Despite the fact I’m still feeling lonely and I’m not seeing a lot of my husband or anyone else for that matter.

I need to ring the doctors, I think I need to admit defeat with this. When I was originally, finally diagnosed I knew that meds weren’t going to help a great deal as it was less of an imbalance chemically and more my entire life up until this point. I knew that if I didn’t get help for the psychological side that if I came off the meds my issues were still going to be there.

Now…. ugh. All my coping mechanisms are gone. I make a point of not looking at my diary now because it just gets depressing. Everything I read is talking about even with vaccinations things might not get back to ‘normal’ for years meanwhile in Australia (another island) they’re pretty much fine.

I don’t know how long I can keep on feeling like this. Maybe taking something will help with this feeling of ‘hibernation’ and I can come out again when things are a bit more back to normal? I just wish I had a guarantee of how I would respond to the meds and not worr about it going back and forth

No rest for the de-pressed

We had an outstanding 3 hour argument on Thursday about everything. And I mean a PROPER argument. Me crying so hard I couldn’t talk, him screeching at me, the works. As a rule we are not a couple that argues.

Let’s just say I had a lot to talk about at counselling.

I had a panic attack that day on the walk home from the shops. I got back and had to change my phone background from him to one of my dog. I felt… betrayed?? The more I sat and worked it out the more I realised that it was because he’d triggered the big red “abusive dad” button in my head. The dog chewed something of his that day and I was worried about telling him because I had a fear he would hurt the dog. He never would but my dad once threw my childhood dog over a 6ft fence because it wouldn’t stop barking.

I think it was that feeling of fear that I resented him creating in me and it was probably the shock of seeing that anger in him come out. He hadn’t realised the true extent of how lonely I am and how much I am struggling right now as essentially his life hasn’t changed a great deal. He is still going out to work at the same job and most of his hobbies are unaffected.

I’ve been trying to work out with my counsellor why the prospect of moving house is fucking me up so badly. Like to the point while boxing things up I leant on a wall and cried.

1 – almost every reaction I have comes from a place of fear and worry

2 – this house is probably the safest space I have ever known: I own it, it currently has no debt, my family home is full of horrors from my dad and my 2nd home was rented and never felt secure to me. This house has been in my name from the start. It was a consistency when my ex left, when I was suicidal, when my mom died..

3 – I do not feel like this sacrifice is acknowledged. I can’t say this to my husband without coming across like a bitch and making out he is a burden. There is a small, hurt part of me that wants recognition at the fact that I am giving up my security, going back into debt, leaving behind my comfort blanket for him and his kids. Specifically for his kids benefit. I don’t resent them, I walked into this relationship with my eyes open…. but I just feel like I am being made to feel bad about wanting to leave all these things behind.

Then tonight my husband had a text from his ex because one of the kids had made out we just leave them unattended while I am at work and he is asleep. My mental resolve is so low at the moment I just want to do a full confrontation but that of course would be the worst thing in the world. They can never remember what they did 3 hours previously let alone remember something shitty they did days ago.

I want a break from myself. I just want to hand my body over to someone and be like “tell me how to make this look good”. I feel like a fucking swamp witch.

I am so so so exhausted. I just want to give up but the motivational force of self loathing won’t let me. I am still alive though. The depression is back but the suicidal fantasies aren’t. Horrible waking nightmare intrusive thoughts about terrible things happening to the dog are apparently trending though

Omega level argument

So we have been together 3 years, 4 in August this year. We don’t argue. We can disagree on stuff and get raised voices sometimes but we don’t do the slanging match fights.

Not till today.

We had a 3 hour fight. I had to text in sick to work because we were still in the thick of it and I was supposed to be in a meeting. I was crying so hard I couldn’t speak. He screamed at me and accusing me of being like his ex. I was pointing out I literally speak to no other human being but him ALL DAY EVERY DAY became plague island aka England is still locked down.

Fucking hell it was awful. I do not enjoy confrontation because it reminds me too much of my dad. I’ve found that lingering a lot for the rest of the day. The dog had fucked up and chewed something of my husband’s and my first thought was of him hurting the dog. My husband would never do that. My dad once threw our dog over a 6ft fence because she wouldn’t stop barking (I told my mom when she came home, her comment was he had once done the same to the dog she had when they first met. That pretty much sums their marriage up).

It was a weird experience riding the waves. First of fear, then of anger, then the adrenaline wore off and the panic attacks came in. I ended up shotgunning chocolate into my face, in my fluffy robe watching the second care beard film from the 80s.

What was this argument about? I’d dared to suggest that while he sorted out a legal thing he is entangled in that we slow down looking for a house. He decided to take this as “I don’t want to move and this is my excuse”. It was ugly. It got personal. We made up but I have felt off and horrible all day.

He said he hadn’t realised how lonely I am because essentially nothing in his life had changed a great deal. Even with his new job he will be going out to work. I literally don’t see anyone. My exciting time is going to a shop to buy food.

I wish I could say that I feel better and like things are resolved but I don’t. I feel vulnerable, I feel defensive still. I can feel this hesitation inside me because I feel like he is going to “attack” again. I guess this is all related to my dad. Something to talk to the counsellor about I guess -_-

Burning down the house

Thankfully not literally but almost. So we’re thinking of selling and unfortunately our dog who hates baths is not only shedding everywhere but is intensifying in DOG smell. The groomers hasn’t been open since Christmas. So we have been trying to burn candles to build up a nicer non-dog smell. So my exhausted, overwhelmed and depressed arse left a candle burning in the front room all night with no clue. Thankfully I’d at least put it on a coaster and it was a decent candle so didn’t burn the house down -_- That would have made the house viewings I’d booked in next week unfortunate.

We’ve been packing things up around the house to try and make it look better which has been.. hard apparently. The other day I just sat and cried in front of boxes of my books. I don’t want to leave this house. It’s my comfortable shell, it’s my security. Currently I don’t have any debt against it which in today’s day and age is pretty unheard of. It’s been with me through the worst of my depression and some really good times.

But we have to move. 2 step kids under 7, a dog and a lot of hobbies that take over the entire house means it’s becoming snug and I’m permanently working from home in one of the bedrooms. We need to change… but also it just isn’t materialising.

Everything feels so overwhelming at the moment. I’ve been trying to sort out lists, trying to work out the costs and the timelines to make things less stressful and it has made things… more stressful.

I don’t know if I should give up and try and go on anti-depressants but I know how much of a trial and error process it is. I worry I’ll end up on ones that will make me pile the weight on but then I guess me emotionally eating is doing that on its own.

I’m not the only person feeling this utter demotivation and depression which I guess is comforting? We had a work ‘mental health awareness’ session with a guided meditation and people were crying on it so everyone’s at their limit. I mean at least I’m not responsible for teaching the kids on top of all this.

I’m so sick of trying to exercise in my house in front of the TV, I’m sick of being in these 4 walls and only going out to walk the dog round the same streets we’ve been covering for a year. I’m sick of looking at my calendar and seeing nothing in it. I want to see my friends. I want to get a tattoo. I want to go to the cinema. I want to go OUT somewhere. I just want to stay in bed, eat chocolate and play on the PS4.

100% done

I think I got to my lockdown limit (again) today. I’ve been trying to make myself be good, have a structure and give up the bad habits I’ve got into… it’s hard when basically the only joy left to me in the world is eating.

I was looking forward to my language class starting up again to the point this is basically my only other human interaction time outside of work other than dnd. Well guess what got cancer today. I just felt sick, then sad, then the urge to just lie on the floor and cry came back. I haven’t had that for a while.

Why is it always the times when I think I’ll have nothing to talk to my counsellor about that I end up having an awful time?

My husband keeps dropping hints about moving somewhere bigger but it terrifies me. Even thinking about it just makes me want to lie down. When I bought this place I did imagine one day having a kid here… however he has 2. I’m permanently working from home so one of the bedrooms is my office 90% of the time. I feel bad that they don’t have their own proper rooms where they can leave their toys out but I’m scared of moving. The only bonus of my mom’s death was that I paid my mortgage off so the idea of moving somewhere and getting into 100k+ worth of debt when the country’s economy is in the toilet just isn’t appealing. I’m worried about my job and my only saving grace is that at least I lost it tomorrow I have savings to live off. Besides which the house needs so much doing to it but where do you even start getting someone in during a pandemic lockdown?

I feel so, so so fucking lonely. I feel like every time I try and get close to my husband (the only human being I see) he pulls away or he’s just not there. This weekend was the first one in a long time where he didn’t fall asleep at 7pm on the Saturday. I know its because his mental health isn’t great either but I feel so alone. If it wasn’t for the dog I’d honestly be in a much darker place right now.

Throughout all of last year I think about how I just got through it but I feel like the fuel has fully run out of my tank right now.

I have such a busy day at work tomorrow and all I can think of is me losing my job because clients are dropping like flies. I really like this job as well, I think that is what makes it worse in some respects.

I want to know that the future will be okay and there will be a date where i can be stood at a metal gig surrounded by people, my back tattoo is done, I’m having a drink, my calendar is full. It just feels so impossible.