The thought that counts

I was told today by my colleague that I am showing the signs of post stress disorder.
Speaking to him after feeling so distressed following a face time with my mum. Her and T looked like vulnerable little kids sitting in the garden as T’s son was cremated somewhere with no service or family. The cruelty of life right now.
And one I am struggling to function in.
Finding myself crying all the time and feeling so run down and exhausted. Feeling of no use to anyone in a time when I would have been useful but completely used up in all those endeavours closer to home. Having no recovery time before walking in to this. Not stopping to let myself heal or having a chance to change things. To just be the happy and dreamy girl I am.
Overly emotional one minute and then completely detached, withdrawn and wanting to be alone
Finding it difficult to sleep at night, and feeling like I don’t care much for being alive.
Finding myself reliving all those feelings of hopelessness and regularly flashing back in being on that swing in the rain and not knowing what to do and dreaming at night that I am being suffocated.
Like having a mental breakdown inside whilst I try and function as normal. But no longer succeeding very well in that.

My girl strong and resilient and full of humour and kindness as life presents a version of living that would have been unimaginable a few months back.
And yet she is dealing with it as it comes with a smile on her face. I feel so proud of the young woman she has become.

And then P in complete charge of himself, dealing effortlessly with all the challenges of current life as though he is invincible and in complete control. It feels like he is in complete control. As though he woke up from a coma and turned into someone holding all the power.

And then me… like a completely broken wreckage. Exhausted, emotional, struggling to focus or function and wishing I could just hibernate. I just want to sleep. Just be quietly left alone sleeping and watching movies and sleeping. But not able to do that as I have to work. Still holding the basics in place.

“How has this happened?” I was asked as I talked them through the things I’ve been dealing with. He is an expert in this area and had spotted the signs.

I suppose I should feel good. The depressed man who I have been carrying is becoming more and more self sufficient and this place is as secure as anyone else’s at this moment in time. My girl who had worried so much about P has been released from that and has started to flourish.
I achieved the aims I found myself faced with. Walking through it alone and pulling myself up every time I fell over.

But in the process I have been completely wrecked. Like being hit by a truck and then driven over several times and left completely mangled and crushed at the side of the road and unable to just pull myself back up.
Those little kindnesses from my closest few and my girl that keep me trying just enough to get through each day. That provide momentary smiles and make me feel like I am cared about.

The girl that was loved and couldn’t be lived with or without now looking like a shadow of who she was and in fact becoming an irritation in not providing the happiness. Not being able to be what she is supposed to be. All out of fight while all around her she can see people fighting.

As I took myself outside the flat and into the street last night and clapped with others to show my appreciation for people who will at some point be suffering with a much more serious version of psd I was thrown a smile by a neighbour I used to see all the time when I worked locally. She was always really lovely. We used to laugh a lot together and she always said to me, “you’re just always so happy.”
Tonight she mouthed the words “are you ok?”
Is it totally visible now?Struggling to hide or cover it. A tired sadness that left my girl wanting to brush my hair and hold my hand tonight. “Let’s watch a film in my room on Saturday with snacks and I’ll stroke your hair” she said.
She knows.
I know. I know I need to stop. I know I need to take some care of myself. That I have hit a point where I can’t just get up. That I have to make myself feel well again. Give that girl who giggles and has fun a chance to live again at some point.
Inside I felt angry at P for doing this to me. I could feel it rising in me as I looked across at him.
As he tried to throw some love my way I just didn’t want it. Keep it I thought. That so called love has crushed me and wondering where i will find the strength to start all over again, again.

But I can’t be angry at him. I did this to myself. Rather than seeing him end up this way it was easier for me to step in and let it happen to me.

I don’t even know how to start to fix myself but I know I need to make it a priority if for no other reason than for my girl.
But I am so exhausted. Trying to work but finding it impossible to concentrate. Having to put my clients on hold as I just don’t have anything to give them.

If you want to know what the overwhelming after effects of trying to be caring look like then take note. There are so many people that will appreciate those kindnesses long after this thing is over. Appreciating those people who provide the little smiles or feelings of being loved and cared about while they try and search for the person they were before.

This morning I awoke to a thought that I was sent last night. As I opened it and listened, that little thought became the biggest difference to my day.

Thankyou for that thought. It really counted ❤️

 

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