A week where I, shock horror, actually cried. OK, only the once, and only with the knowledge of my teddy penguin, but still an unusual occurrence for me. Not sure if it helped or just got my long suffering teddy penguin all soggy, but I did do a bit of crying.
By talking about anything apart from my moods/my head, I've got through another appointment with the CPN (see posts from 3 weeks ago when she last came). Mugs, flower pots and arrangements, bishops, funerals, church vestments, and she took a phone call about someone who is refusing to see the doctor in the psych ward but probably needs some meds (TBH, knowing the psych ward psychiatrists, I fully understand her worry about them there funny doctors [Who, incidentally, wear Wellington boots whilst doing shopping in the supermarket - slightly odd...])
Not once did she ask about how noisy my head was, not once did she enquire as to the state of my feet, or my sleep patterns, or anything like that. Silver lining of no sensible-but-tricky questions was the fact I didn't need to think up any creative spins on the more negative areas to actually say to her.
Along the lines of:
"Yes, my head is noisy, but I've got lots of music to distract with, and I never have to deal with too much silent thinking time as I never get the chance. I'm able to still work, though sometimes I have to ask people to repeat things, it isn't too bad at the moment... ... Sorry, pardon, can you repeat what you just said please, I couldn't hear you over the screaming child torturing my brain?"
There are geese flying overhead, and it has set a dog off down the road. I haven't been to the pond for about a year, I haven't even got on my bike. It was, at one point, part of my routine - I would go on a bike ride around the pond, up the hill, down the hill, and back home. Something has changed and my bike has being left behind. A bit like the viola that sits in the corner. Or the other "great ideas" which suddenly aren't so great, and are slowly put to one side. Oo, the geese are back for their second circle of the area, aaannndd, yes, I can hear the dog getting excited again.
I'm tired. Not just in the physical "I need sleep" sense, but in the "I need some enthusiasm again" sense. I can't lose it, not now. Not the right time. There is probably never a right time to lose it and go crazy, but this is definitely a bad time. There is more to lose, there is more to gain by staying as "coping me" than there ever has been, there is too much pressure on me to be around for me to duck out of activities for a few weeks, go quietly crazy, and come back feeling better. I am not doing an event this weekend as I have a uni tutorial - but everyone presumed I was on holiday. The lack of understanding that I lead (by necessity, but at the moment not enjoyable) very busy life seems rife. I almost want to say "Do you know how busy I am? Do you realise I don't just do this job that you see me in for 6 hours a week, but all the rest I do? Do you realise why I'm looking like a wreck who is shoving on clothes but obviously not feeling quite as cheerful as the clothes may seem?"
Except, I won't. That wouldn't get me anywhere. And I'm sure lots of people are very busy too - yet they have this strange presumption I only do the thing they see me doing.
I'm eating too much. I'm still losing weight, but probably not as much as if I didn't have the huge binges that seem to have crept back in (or the alcohol, but that doesn't count). At least food isn't such an issue any more. Except the occasional binge, I'm eating sensible food at a sensible time. Some improvement, I suppose...
It is silly, if my CPN had asked the usual crass CPN comments, I wouldn't have been wholly truthful and I would have said goodbye to her feeling worse as I hadn't told her the truth and I would be analysing every comment I made. But in a way I feel I've been conned out of the opportunity to say something if I felt I could. I want someone in the "real world" to know just how pants I'm feeling. That everything isn't as hunky-dory as it may seem. But I don't want crisis teams, or meds, or this or that, I just want (in a way) for someone to be aware. Except that it doesn't work like that. I don't want fuss, I want a duvet and a dark room and 5 days without any interruptions, but me telling someone would have the opposite effect. Being crazy wasn't easy, but this limbo-land of still evidently not-sane but a "functioning" person(to all extent and purposes) isn't seeming a viable solution right now.
Tired, sad, and wanting to go for a walk. Except I can't as I have work to be doing, it is raining and I'm probably not entirely safe to just go "for a walk" without a specific place to be heading for.
So, time to do some work... First things first, I'm going to revise my to-do list, as it is rather out of date... *sighs and gets on with things*