I finally got to sleep at 0545 and the alarm woke me at 0830. I don't feel too bad, but maybe I've forgotten what it feels like to be rested? The kitchen looks as though a bomb has hit it, with overflowing ashtrays and dirty dishes, so I must do something about it - no excuses this time or saying that I can't be arsed. The nail painting woman comes at 1030 to do my toes - what on earth will I find to say to her? What was I thinking of, arranging an appointment at that time in the morning? Home Treatment are ringing - in fact they're late - and I can hardly be bothered to tell them I had a shitty night, after all, what can they do? I don't want to be bothered with explaining. Little or no sleep usually sends me high - I should be so lucky.
The Tesco's order is still waiting to be unpacked but I can do that in slow time, a bag at a time as HT suggested. The ashtrays I can empty. The dishes pose more of a problem as I have to empty the dishwasher first. The only way to do it is to do it without looking, as it were. One more fag then I'll have a go. Thank goodness for tobacco.
I fought the pills last night and that's why I had such a bad one. What is it that makes me do that? I yearn for sleep, but deny myself the possibility - it's very self destructive. I think I have that streak in me - the one that always pushes the boundaries to prove I'm in control when I'm not. Anyone else do that?
I did it - cleared away and put the dishwasher on. I just snuck up on myself and the next thing I knew, I'd done it. I've put a teacake in the toaster for breakfast. HT still haven't called. Maybe they've forgotten me - oh dear, my self esteem. Just had a second teacake. Waiting for a call is most disturbing when one's depressed - I can hang on and hang on, but it gets more difficult. I wonder if HT know that about people with mental illness - how hard it is when something changes a plan.
A friend is coming to tidy me up tomorrow, which will be bliss. We can do the kitchen table, which is causing me grief because it's so cluttered, and generally improve the place.
I think I'll go for half an hour's nap before Amanda arrives
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?