Still in pjs, but a friend came for coffee and we had a good chat (and a few fags) and it was great. I felt more connected than I have done for a while, but I'm still not functioning well. The glass bubble is still around my head, muffling me from the world, and I can't seem to shake it off. It's oppressive. However, I did have a glimmer of hope just now - a tiny one - which could signal a slight improvement. I've asked HT for drugs to last me over the weekend as I think I'm safe enough now. The consultant is going to review my meds and consider the zopiclone question, although I did sleep on nitrazepam last night.
Time to eat something, but what? I'm not hungry, but it's ages since I had anything, so eat I had better do. I have some continental meats in the fridge - salami, parma ham - and some good bread, so I think I'll have that. Some friends are having lunch in Carluccio's in Dorchester - I've never been there, but I must when I'm better.
Had lunch, and now I face the uphill tasks of clearing away and then putting the washing on. I've made a pact with myself to do the washing today, so I shall have to do it, or my self esteem with take yet another knock. It's low enough as it is. It's a curious thing, self esteem - when you have it, you never think about it, it's just a part of life. When you're depressed it deserts you and everything about you becomes nasty and foul. At the moment, I think I'm a bad person and that I deserve all this because of the way I've behaved in life. Friends tell me that's rubbish, but I don't believe them. All I focus on is the rotten bits - I have no memory of anything good. I feel a failure. I've lost that thread.
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?