Well ok it was the night before the night before the night before Christmas and he's gone out to organise something with the pharmacy and probably the bank. He did try to explain what but I wasn't really taking it in. So I'm left here to await the pony express ( sorry the post office) to deliver something too large for the lettebox. Talk about inefficient, all three items posted the same day, one arrives friday, one Tuesday and the third still waiting. Two cards sent the same day one's here and one's not. It's not that I hate Christmass, not in a Scrooge bah humbug kind of way but fighting depression surrounded by trees, tinsel, fairylights and annoying Christmas songs is not easy. Chances are I will still be in pj's when he gets back as from the gist of the conversation yesterday his reasons for me wanting to get well are financial and nothing else. Add to that his fractured wrist and his desire to sue all and sundry I can't tell him about my debts. I still seem to have to deal with every family crisis even if its nothing to do with me and when her boyfriend had to stay on Saturday because of the bad weather our evening together was hijacked and I really resented it and as a result him, nice as he may be I do find him somewhat trying.
Fair enough maybe some of this is self inflicted as the pills seem to make me worse so I really am loathed yto increase the dose but I know feel guilty for every penny I spend and the desire to self harm was back very strongly today. There is simply no one to talk to, even if my line manager, having suffered herself, does understand she is the boss not my friend and it has to stay that way. So today is the team Christmas meal and no I'm not going but will e mail a copy of my current sick certificate - Merry Christmas boss. Also the impending arrival of my family in January doesn't lift my spirits much either. I have started dreading Dad's calls as he will say ' only you can change it' at somepoint. Stating the obvious maybe but did anyone ask why I feel this way rather than just presuming it must be work. And to cap it all dad wants me to cross my fingers that my contract is extended - the opposite of what I want.
I can find nothing to take pleasure from and am only typing this as my daughter seems to think it might help when I want to self harm. So how do you explain depression to someone looking from the outside in? To someone who thinks that 'bugging' you until you do something will help, but is just asking to be sworn at or something similar.Here's to 2011 if I make it that far, the pills are starting to look very tempting and well just one cut won't hurt.
