Well, I had a very disturbed night last night as well, but was never quite conscious enough to come down here and write the blog. I don't know what to do about my sleep pattern - I seem to be in the habit of waking up and it's very difficult to break it. Also, I have a sore patch on my tongue which hurts at night and keeps me up. Added to that, my feet are still poorly, but my hands are much better. I'm completely fed up with side effects - my nose is blocked (quetiapine) and I get weird dreams (nitrazepam). Not to mention the weight I've put on.
My sister arrives soon and we're having a take away with the girls. I've decided to continue to write this for a couple of weeks to see if anyone still reads it - if not, I shall archive it.
Off to wait for my baby sister.
Having rather a disturbed night, which is a bummer as I was very tired yesterday. There's a load of washing in the machine which I forgot to take out and which can now wait until the morning. Once again, I feel like the only person in the world at this time of the night - it's pitch black and quiet and all I can hear is my rather noisy fridge. I did get up to listen to the storm, but that was a bit of a damp squib. I was once caught in a storm force gale in the Med, sailing in a 55 foot yacht, at night, and the only people not being sick were me and the captain. Now that was hairy.
I have a meeting I can't avoid at 1500, so I'll have to drive, whether I like it or not. I can't think what's stopping me - I'm usually desperate to get back on the road, but not this time. I wonder if it's the anxiety that I'm feeling? I love driving as a rule, so I really must do it. Mustn't let myself be beaten by it.
My hands and feet are a bit better, although I still have residual itching on one of my hands. I'll try to go back to sleep now, I think, so it's off to bed.
Well, I cancelled my town appointment so I haven't driven any distance yet. However, the beds are changed and the house is tidy, apart from my study, which is where everything is stored that hasn't found a home. The second load of washing is on although I've no idea where I'm going to put it to dry. Everyone here survived the storm - it must have blown over the top of us as we're in a valley.
I'm aware that I'm anxious, which is usually the last stage of a depression for me. I can't pin it down to a reason - it's just free floating anxiety, which in my view is the worst to deal with. Normally, I can pin it down and deal with it, but I don't seem to be able to do that this time. I don't like the dark evenings, that's for sure - it being light in the mornings holds no joy for me as I'm always asleep.
My sister arrives on Thursday, which will be great. I'm looking forward hugely to seeing her, and we'll have a curry that evening with the girls.
Off to feed the cats.
I've noticed a reluctance to blog at the moment, and I think it's because it reminds me of being depressed, and the hours I spent here at the kitchen table. I didn't blog yesterday, but spent most of the day dozing after my guests had left. We had a splendid weekend doing nothing except eating and drinking, which was lovely. On Sunday, we went to a pub with some more friends - I had the roast beef, which I always have, and it was delicious. We all came back here for coffee. Lo and behold, it was then time for drinks in the evening.
Today, I have therapy, which I'm not looking forward to particularly - I'm very tired still. I think one has to be in good nick to undergo therapy as it's so testing. I've cancelled my afternoon appointment.
It's back to bed, I think, and an attempt to sleep.
My computer has intelligently turned the clock back an hour, as has my iPhone, but I must do the clocks. We've agreed that we'll all sleep in as long as we want to, but might make coffee and go back to bed. We'll probably go and get the Sunday papers from the village shop and have a really quiet day. I wonder how my quiz team got on without me yesterday - they were defending the plate which we've won twice.
I can't believe so much time was wasted by my being ill - weeks of it passed in a blur. Bipolar disorder had taken away many years of my life, I'm afraid. And two careers. I'm still bitter about the way the RAF treated me - I think we're hardwired for justice, and when something happens that is unjust it's difficult to come to terms with it. It took me years to get any sort of closure and I'm not sure it's complete now. Hence my therapy.
I think I"ll go to bed and watch TV.
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?