Christmas is coming up in just a few
short days. I feel less excited for it than I have in a long time.
Due to last year's breakdown, which resulted in a raw roast chicken being thrown across the kitchen and an ambulance nearly being called, I am no
longer permitted to cook a Christmas roast. After some six years of
cooking everything for Christmas, spending a week planning and
preparing and baking and cooking, I feel somewhat lost.
Part of it means less stress, which is
a good thing, both with cooking and eating. Mum's never been one to really cook Christmas roasts, anyway. But for me, it's taken a
lot of the magic out of Christmas. It's back to being just another
day.
I've started learning how to drive this
week. Since Sunday, I've had four lessons with mum supervising, all
close to an hour each. As I'm over 21, I no longer need the 120 hours
of practice before I can sit for my P plates, allowing me to drive
solo. Instead, I can take the test whenever I feel ready.
However, there are a fear big fears,
the reasons why I've put off learning how to drive, all related to my
mental health.
The one that's playing on my mind the
most? Once I know how to operate a car, even if I can't legally drive
without a supervisor, there's a nagging fear that if I'm on the edge
– whether it be feeling trapped at home, if we're arguing, if I
want to barricade myself in a room, if there's a threat of calling an
ambulance – I feel like I might jump in the car and run. Just to
get away, especially if I'm manic or unstable.
You see, the car has always been a
'safe' way of going out into the world. It's like an extension of the
house in my mind, and it doesn't threaten my agoraphobia in the same
way as it does to be out in the world on my own two feet. Up until
about a year ago, mum would take me on meandering drives daily to
distract me or calm me down, and it always felt safe.
I talked to my GP about it on
Wednesday. I explained the fear of running. There's also a fear that
I could use a car as a means of suicide, driving off a cliff or
speeding into a solid barricade. Much to my surprise (and my mother's
horror), her advice was to make a plan, and find somewhere safe I can
go to hide out and calm down. Somewhere I won't overdose or go over a
cliff.
I'd expressed this fear to mum after my
first drive. But when I told her of my GP's response, she was
furious.
“But it's illegal!”
“But the danger!”
“But you won't be
covered by insurance!”
Don't get me wrong – it's not
something I'm actively planning to do, nor is my GP encouraging an
illegal and dangerous situation. It's making a plan to stay as safe
as possible in case it does happen. Just as we make plans for how to
deal with other crises such as self-harm or overdosing, this is
making a plan for if I lose control and find myself behind the wheel.
It doesn't work to just say “Don't do that thing”. You still need
a plan for if it does happen.
Keeping an eye on my medication is
going to be a challenge over the next couple of weeks. As the
pharmacy is closing for a few days here and there, they're delivering
an entire week's worth of meds, instead of just three or four days.
The more pills I have access to, the more likely I am to take them.
It's sad to see how far I've fallen.
About two years ago, before I went to Webster packs, mum still had
charge of my meds and put them in weekly containers. I remember
trying to gain more independence over them, starting with the least
dangerous one, which at the time was mirtazapine, one of the many
antidepressants I've been on.
I was allowed to keep them in the
medicine cabinet in the kitchen instead of them being hidden. I still
remember, after popping the first week's dosage into the containers, I
called out to mum, jokingly,
“Look! I just put out my
antidepressants and didn't overdose!”
Now, I'm given a few day's worth at a time, already in their little
package for each dose.
Finally, I would like to wish all of my lovely blogger friends a very Merry Christmas and Happy New Year. I know it's not an easy time for a lot of us, and I'm always here to lend an ear if you need support, I'll help out as much as I can. Unfortunately, amongst the chaos of the past few months, I did not get around to doing my Christmas cards this year. But I would not have made it through were it not for the support of this wonderful community, which means more to me than I can ever express.
Happy Christmas to you dear Bella
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry things are not going well
I am always here for you though
We started this journey together four and a half years ago
You are my blogging bestie!
And I want nothing more than you to be happy and healthy
I wish I had some words of wisdom
Some wise little pearl of advice
But this is something you need to do to to do yourself
Take care sweet one
And keep on touch
Sending you a massive hug
From my heart to yours..... xxx
By the way
ReplyDeleteHave you ever heard the Ian Brown song 'Fear'?
It's really good
Maybe look it up? X
Lots of love and light to you Bella. I hope you're able to stay safe over the holidays, and I hope you're able to find a few (or many) moments of joy. Hugs hugs hugs!
ReplyDeleteThinking of you this Christmas Bella, stay safe, relax and find some joy. Sending loads of love xoxo
ReplyDeleteSending you lots of love, dear Bella. I'm sorry to hear that you're having a rough time... Please do take care of yourself. I know how difficult it can be to enjoy yourself when you're going through so much. I hope things get better, and hope you have a better holiday than last year's.
ReplyDeletexoxo
Hey Bella, Merry Christmas! I hope everything goes well in the next weeks <3 hopefully it'll all get better. Much love, I hope you're coping well with your family.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Christie