I managed to have that shower - didn't do my hair, but everything else about me is shiny and clean. I don't feel an achievement, I just feel exhausted. Exhaustipated = too tired to give a shit. The kitchen is still full of Tesco's bags, but what the hell - I can do them later. HT are arriving at 2 to take me to get some cash, and I've gone into depersonalisation mode, where I'm not taking part in what I'm doing. I hope that will get me through today's little exercise. There are messages on my answer phone but I don't feel able to answer them - from people who love me and care about how I am. I feel inadequate in the face of all this kindness.
My smelling salts arrived today. I'm supposed to use them if I get a flashback, to bring me back into the present. Liz and I tried them, and they certainly work - they contain tapioca, of all things. Why?? I thought that was a pudding like semolina. We used to have semolina at school and everyone hated it except me - we also had it on the trolley when I was working at Melstock House. Lovely stuff with strawberry jam. Comfort food. Speaking of which, I must have put on weight during this episode, which is a bugger. I'll think about dieting when I'm better and not on so many drugs that make one fat.
I am anxious today, mostly about going out, even though a change of scene would be good. The rest of the anxiety is free flowing, which is the worst as there's no cause. My back aches with all this typing, but I shan't give in to it - I need to write this all down to get it out of my system.
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?