Where to start this week?
As the title suggests, it’s all been a bit tricky. Being without a kitchen, living in the passage with the fridge in a bedroom full of boxes and a never-ending, bone chilling cold due to the still open doorway to the new extension is, funnily enough finally getting to me. At the same time, I’ve had a change in medication which has left me numb, shaky, miserable and exhausted so even finding the energy to write this has been difficult.
So here I am at 13.41 on Sunday afternoon, still in bed, still in my nightie (oh and a sweatshirt as, yes, it’s still this
cold here) trying to find the energy to get out of bed and have a much needed shower. Everyday here at the moment is truly identical; lie in, take my tablets, get out of bed, try and get dressed into something warm, sit in the living room until my FitBit reminds me to get up and move my legs, look in the fridge for something to eat for dinner (it has to either be able to be toasted or ‘pinged‘ in the microwave) then sit back down and do it all again until it’s time to take the ‘big boy‘ painkillers which allow me to slip into something resembling sleep.
I know all this is temporary and it will pass and it will all be worth it once it’s finished but, flipping heck, it’s hard. It’s probably all down to the change in medication that I’m feeling so low but I can’t see the end; all I can see is a brand new spanking kitchen in which I will still be miserable.
In my mind I’m fighting with myself –
I have NEVER been depressed before.
I am NOT the depressive type.
The depressive type is SOMEONE ELSE.
And that someone else is certainly not ME.
Don’t worry, I am not suicidal or anything, I simply cannot see any worth in my existence at the moment. I am incapable of working or bringing in any kind of wage, I have to rely on others for my personal and mobility needs, I am no companion to my ever trying P and thankfully my children are grown up and live away as I would certainly be of no use to them. I feel without worth or purpose and I don’t know what to do about it.
I thought the best thing was to ask for help.
So I asked at 
the Pain Management Clinic and they were very supportive and understanding. The consultant said that I probably had a degree of PTSD following my life-changing fracture, understood that I was feeling overwhelmed and bewildered and pronounced that I probably would benefit from some counselling to help me come to terms with my ‘new’ life as I was struggling to put all the pieces of my future together.
Within a fortnight, I was given an appointment with the Mental Health Team over the phone. The woman I was talking to was lovely but had this terrible habit of putting the words “mental health” on the end of every sentence, as in, “Hi there, this is the “Mental Health Team“, you’ve been referred to the “Mental Health Team“, your appointment with the “Mental Health Team“, your “Mental Health Team” member will be …, do you know the way to the “Mental Health Team“?, oh, you just turn left and follow the sign that says “Mental Health Team“, ok, now is there anything else you need to know about your appointment with the (yes, you guessed it!) “Mental Health Team“!!!!!!!
So off to the local hospital we went, went to where the woman had said the “Mental Health Team” would be, found out we were outside the Elderly Care ward and promptly got very lost. I gave in and actually phoned the hospital itself who then guided us via telephone link to outside the locked door labelled (oh yes, here we go again!) “Mental Health Team”.
The guy there was great, asked me loads of questions and even managed to get some answers through my hysterical blubbing. I can’t help it, whenever someone asks me 
about me, I end up crying – not cute little tears but enormous, heaving sobs, sometimes even after the simplest of questions. After the “tell me about your life” questions, he looked slightly confused and said that I wasn’t a candidate for the Mental Health team as I was just reacting to a enormous life change and it would be amazing if I wasn’t struggling. He went outside and managed to find the counselling service who said they would find me an appointment within 10-12 weeks. I thanked him and took my red, blotchy self outside.
How am I feeling now?
After writing this and spending some time helping P in 
the garden, I feel quite a lot better, still low but at least I’ve done something worthwhile today. I remember vividly a phrase form a film I once saw, it had its main character say to someone “just keep on living until you feel alive“. I’ve always thought that was a wise thing to say so that’s what I’m going to do, let’s see how it goes eh…….
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