WTB: Mental Health
Jan. 31st, 2019 08:11 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
baratronLife is hard work at the moment, for me and for my partners. Today I received literally HALF A REAM (precisely 251 sheets) of A4 paper, being a copy of ALL of the data that the Department of Work and Pensions has about my disabilities. I gave it to Richard to hide because I have no idea when I'm going to be summoned to court for the appeal, and I'm already suicidal without having that lying around to look at.
I am sick of massive moodswings from nowhere. I've always been a very mood reactive person. During episodes of major depression, I can seem entirely normal and happy when out with my friends - because I am. Being around people I love cheers me up. Even when I'm too depressed to move, sitting on the bed, I can laugh my head off at something Richard says because he's hilarious, before going back to hating myself a few minutes later.
But this is worse. This isn't mood reactivity, this is... without a trigger. I can be laughing at cute pictures of gay lawyers and then suddenly a crying fit for no reason at all. If there was a trigger - if I was crying at a sad part in a story, or if I was aware of a negative/unhelpful thought drifting up from my subconscious - I would find it much easier to cope with. But it's with no discernable trigger at all, and that is both exhausting and terrifying.
Yesterday I was sitting on the bed with Richard, both of us looking at stuff on the internet on our devices. I was just fine, then suddenly - whoops - suicidal from nowhere. I lost the ability to speak because all I could think about was how much I wanted to cut myself. It probably lasted about 10-15 minutes? Then it passed and I went back to looking at gay lawyers. Fuckin' mood swings.
I've given up on "healthy" eating in favour of just ensuring that food of some sort enters my body at semi-regular intervals. I realised I kept starving myself through a combination of "I don't deserve to eat" and "being too depressed to face preparing food". I'm trying to make sure that I have food around that isn't complete junk, but it isn't always possible, not least of all because I'm feeling unbelievably picky.
I can't get out the fuckin' house most days because my agoraphobia is too bad. In fact, some days I don't make it out the fuckin' bed. I'm not certain that I've even had agoraphobia before this current episode of The Mental (TM).
On the days I take a shower, that's it for me for the day. Get up, shower, clean clothes, go back to bed exhausted.
And just before I sat down to write this post, I picked up a glass to take down to the dishwasher and it fell apart in my hand. Probably an old crack, our glasses aren't exactly new - but this is NOT what I need when I'm already fighting the urge to self-harm :( I'm fine, the glass is downstairs. I am upstairs. I am not cut, either intentionally or accidentally. But I just didn't need that, you know?
Tomorrow is my anniversary with Richard. We will have been together for 21 years, which is literally half our lifetimes. He has been helping me deal with The Mental (TM) all of that time. The man must be a fuckin' saint.
I am sick of massive moodswings from nowhere. I've always been a very mood reactive person. During episodes of major depression, I can seem entirely normal and happy when out with my friends - because I am. Being around people I love cheers me up. Even when I'm too depressed to move, sitting on the bed, I can laugh my head off at something Richard says because he's hilarious, before going back to hating myself a few minutes later.
But this is worse. This isn't mood reactivity, this is... without a trigger. I can be laughing at cute pictures of gay lawyers and then suddenly a crying fit for no reason at all. If there was a trigger - if I was crying at a sad part in a story, or if I was aware of a negative/unhelpful thought drifting up from my subconscious - I would find it much easier to cope with. But it's with no discernable trigger at all, and that is both exhausting and terrifying.
Yesterday I was sitting on the bed with Richard, both of us looking at stuff on the internet on our devices. I was just fine, then suddenly - whoops - suicidal from nowhere. I lost the ability to speak because all I could think about was how much I wanted to cut myself. It probably lasted about 10-15 minutes? Then it passed and I went back to looking at gay lawyers. Fuckin' mood swings.
I've given up on "healthy" eating in favour of just ensuring that food of some sort enters my body at semi-regular intervals. I realised I kept starving myself through a combination of "I don't deserve to eat" and "being too depressed to face preparing food". I'm trying to make sure that I have food around that isn't complete junk, but it isn't always possible, not least of all because I'm feeling unbelievably picky.
I can't get out the fuckin' house most days because my agoraphobia is too bad. In fact, some days I don't make it out the fuckin' bed. I'm not certain that I've even had agoraphobia before this current episode of The Mental (TM).
On the days I take a shower, that's it for me for the day. Get up, shower, clean clothes, go back to bed exhausted.
And just before I sat down to write this post, I picked up a glass to take down to the dishwasher and it fell apart in my hand. Probably an old crack, our glasses aren't exactly new - but this is NOT what I need when I'm already fighting the urge to self-harm :( I'm fine, the glass is downstairs. I am upstairs. I am not cut, either intentionally or accidentally. But I just didn't need that, you know?
Tomorrow is my anniversary with Richard. We will have been together for 21 years, which is literally half our lifetimes. He has been helping me deal with The Mental (TM) all of that time. The man must be a fuckin' saint.
