Well, I actually managed to put two bags of rubbish out AND I opened the mail. Nothing too scary in the envelopes, thank goodness - a bill and a few other bits and bobs. Next tasks - tidy the kitchen table and sort out the fridge. Both jobs are huge. Just spoken to Tracy as I feel a bit wobbly - so I've taken some lorazepam and I'm going to watch TV in the sitting room. I get anxious as night approaches - will I sleep tonight or not? It's a worry to me, and more than that. I also have to have something to eat - lasagne maybe? Tracy suggested that moving to the sitting room might slow me down a bit and make me more rested before bedtime - I think of the kitchen as my place of activity, so that's quite a good idea.
The rash has spread to my face and chin, which is most annoying - I scratch in my sleep (what sleep??) and it makes it worse. My hands are a mess. Not that I care about my appearance - it's a matter of complete indifference to me. I'm still in pjs, but I had a shower yesterday; maybe I'll have one tonight too. How can these things be so bloody difficult? Ordinary tasks become monstrous.
I'm trying to drink fluids as my skin is dehydrated from the tablets and consequent rashes. Water is boring, coffee too sweet; so I'm on the tonic water - no gin, sadly. I'm gutted that I can't drink alcohol any more - what a bugger. There was nothing I liked better than a bottle of wine each evening - when I started these drugs I tried really hard to continue to drink, but to no avail; it just tasted wrong. No I watch with envy as my friends get pissed and I can't - I dread becoming the spectre at the feast because I'm not drinking.
I'm going to try to watch TV now - and I'
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?