It's been a pretty long week. I've just been settling back into being at home. I feel totally overwhelmed by everything. I wish the world would just stop for a moment and let me catch my breath.
I saw my GP on Thursday. A lot of it was just catching up on the hospital admission and treating self-harm wounds as she hadn't received the letter from the specialist yet. It's three weeks today since I was admitted. I've still been feeling not-quite-right. The cough, fever, congestion, pain, headache, sweats, utter exhaustion have sparked back up again, though it's still no where near as bad as it was.
She said that both she and the Lung Doctor Man understand that smoking, both substances, is a complicated issue for me and neither expect me to be able to 'just quit', which was great to hear. She recommended to take things one cigarette at a time for now, and if I can go without one or stub one out halfway, great, but not to push myself if it'll just make my mental state worse.
We talked about how she and the dietitian and the mental health nurse all came to visit, and I think all agree it was definitely a good idea for the MH nurse to visit because it really opened up the line of communication.
"I think now you might know that we do actually care about you and really want to help you, that you're not just any patient who walks in."
I nearly started crying. I've never had any doctors, therapists, psychiatrists, anyone actually care about me before my current team.
Mum went away over the weekend. I ended up smoking too much and didn't sleep. I've been having more and more sleepless nights lately. The night was spent re-watching the same old movies for the millionth time, cuddling with the cat and dog, drinking too much coffee and periodically bursting into tears. I made sure to spend some time yesterday catching up with all your lovely blogs, because it's just been too much to face some days and I've fallen behind on reading and commenting. At the moment I just can't bear to be in my head. Life is fucking excruciating, waiting for time to pass. There is just nothing. It hurts to think, to feel, to breathe.
I'm trying to take things one day at a time. It seems to be my motto lately. As for this week, I'm seeing the dietician tomorrow and the mental health nurse on Wednesday. I really don't know how she's supposed to be able to help, but I've got nothing to lose by talking. I'm hoping my GP will consider trying another antidepressant soon. I don't know how much longer I can keep doing this. I'll try to update later in the week.
"A strange sort of Nothing is destroying everything."