Jun 8

Yesterday my mental health finally cracked.

Struggled all day with coming in and out of anxiety, sketchy thoughts, crazy stuff.

The stress and coping and grief and illness and everything has finally pushed me over the edge.

Been here. Done this. Got the t shirt.

These are some of the worst moments of my life.

I worked hard to distract myself and fight. Not 100% lost. Yet. But. Spending large chunks of time scratching at the walls and losing it. Not good. Also. I started taking my mental meds again. This is a two edged sword. They are going to make the anxiety worse in the short term. They're also going to put more strain on my cardio. They may even out my mood in the long term.

I don't have any options however.

By the time the early evening had rolled around the craziness had waned, I was for the moment, just about on the right side of sane. I settled down to chill and watch TV.

I spoke to my nephew at length mid evening. This helped somewhat. Just talking to someone. He gives a shit. It matters. It helps.

Late evening my friend appeared to play some games. And at that point, I was more or less, good enough.

Didn't take co-codamol last night.

And I slept without incident. No major downers, no struggling to breathe or mushy faces or heaviness or feeling like I am going to drop dead. Only one bout of a dead hand.

On the other hand. I also drank a full flask of tea before bed. All that caffeine. Giving my sleeping body a speed up.

Regardless. Slept better. Which is to say fairly shit given the usual crap these days of black sunken eyes et al. But. It was far better than the horrendous night before. Farrrrrr better.

Woke up this morning kind of feeling ok ish. Barring all the usual. Tired. Iffy sunken eyes. Pains. Yada.

Oh. Have I turned a bit of a corner and am on a better path ?

10 minutes later the anxiety started tickling.

Oh.

Another 10 minutes later the anxiety started screaming.

Oh.

The cat is out of the bag. My mental health has gone off leash, I am no longer in control of it. This is horrible dangerous territory and the suffering from that alone is going to be bad.

I went for a pee, tried to shake it off ( which at the very least means there is still some part of the sane me trying to wrest back control ), went back to bed.

Guts twisted up, flutters of panic coming and going. Just. Lying there in bed. Sigh. Panic sweats prickle and go, prickle and go. This is the body's physiological response just pushing all the buttons at random. This is part of the picture of what "losing it" looks like.

Today is going to be rough.

I have already taken my mental meds again. I know they will excacerbate some of my cardio issues. But hopefully. They can clamp down on the anxiety at the very least.

Next week I have a doc appointment ostensibly to have another stab at tackling some of my issues. This time around I was going to focus on the black eyes and numb arms and that kind of thing. Which I definitely will. I will also mention I've gone mental again. Anxiety through the roof. And see what he has to say. Nothing of much use I am sure other than a renewal of mental meds and perhaps a side dose of the always iffy benzos ( another thing that depresses cardio... yikes... ).

The appointments are on Thursday and Friday. That feels a very long way off.

The leg. Perhaps predictable, off the co-codamol, my leg actually hurt during the night trying to sleep. In the scale of things it was a minor inconvenience. Pain. But really. Compared to everything else. No fucking big deal. I had to roll around and figure out the best way to reduce its complaints. This morning it is a lot stiffer and all the muscles are tight ( this is new ).

The next few days are going to be very hard I suspect.

A small orbital view. Take a breath. Look up. Look back.

The aftermath of Athena's passing has been absolutely brutal. As foreseen, but just not the exact shape of it. I am struggling to survive.

I have taken the time to write this, and in that time the anxiety has lessened some. Stopped screaming. Now it's just pervading. Like a doom. A fear. And it feels like it's on a knife edge. Just waiting for the tiniest of things to push it over the edge. Tricky. This is going to be the day. As well as dealing with other mentalries and the physical health. What to do ? Tricky. Ideally. Lose myself in something good on TV. Warm. Comfortable. Thinking about the stories on TV. In practice. That's a real high bar. And sketching out zoned out from a droning TV is more likely.

Uh huh.

Onwards with the day. Gear up soldier. Prep for incoming.