It's 0125 and I've spoken to Claire at HT - very sensibly, she said I was to pop a couple of lorazepam, and make a milky drink. Not so sensibly, she said no more cigarettes, which I've totally ignored. I'm having a hot milk with vanilla essence in it - luckily, my coffee machine also makes hot milk, so I don't have difficult saucepans to clean. Speaking of pots and pans, there's a load of dirty stuff in the sink, but I can't face doing it at the moment. I don't understand how I can take so much in the way of night meds and still be awake - what I've taken would fell an ox. Maybe I'm getting used to the nitrazepam and need a change of sleeping pill. Often, the only respite from depression is sleep, and I'm not even getting that. Bastard sleep.
I don't think I'll start on the RAF tonight as I'll probably become distressed when I write about it. I'll do it tomorrow - actually today now. I also have to do some washing - another Herculean task when one is poorly. Also clear the sink - oh Lord will I ever be well? Motivated? Energetic?
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?