Invisibility

Thursday was the school's performance of Oliver.  This was the same day I was admitted to the clinic.  I had spent most, if not all, of the day in tears.  Not for any good reason only that mostly I just wanted to die and couldn't.

My son had a role in the chorus so it wasn't like I was going to be missing his lead performance.  But for him, being in the chorus was a big deal.  It was one of those moment that I looked into the future and could see him telling his therapist in 20 years time how his mother was so ill with depression all the time that she couldn't even come see his breakthrough stage performance.

Suitably tranquilised and against doctor's orders, I made my way to the theatre.  My daughter had planned her own special little party.  Laden with a vast quantity of sweets with her best friend in the seat next to her, we all sat down and watched the tremendous performance unfold before us.

The interval was excruciating.  When one is depressed, one wants nothing more than to be invisible.  I didn't have the energy, the courage, or the desire to talk to any one, even the people who love me more than their luggage.  Luckily, those people understood that.  I was given some soul engaging hugs and hand squeezes.  I was given encouraging winks and nods.  My efforts to keep my head down and my gaze averted did draw numerous stares but those seemed to unsettle my husband more than me.  You can't see what you can't see.

Back in the clinic, my night's sleep was interrupted continuously with nightmares of people crushing me, sitting on me, pushing me, suffocating me.  I yelled out numerous time.  By 5 am I had given up on the idea of restful sleep and started the morning off with a good long cry.

I've managed a shower today.  I managed to go to the art class.  I have eaten all three meals today.

My back pain is being alleviated by anti inflammatory and pain meds.  My whole body itches and I keep scratching until I bleed.  This is probably anxiety related.  The anti depressants haven't kicked in yet but they will soon.  I hope.

What I can tell you is that the outpouring of support and love is overwhelming.  Don't take this the wrong way and sufferers of mental illness will understand, it doesn't really help but it is nice to have.  I really appreciate the flowers, the chocolate, the biscuits, the STRAWBERRY shower gel, and the words of encouragement and motivation.  I am most grateful for the unconditional love.  Thank you.  You know who you are.  xxxx

Sleeplessness

I don't sleep much to begin with so when I miss a night's snoozing I get extra grumpy.

Friday I went into the office expecting some colleagues to have sent me 2 pieces of finished work. One I never received and I couldn't reach him on the phone. The other sent me something but it wasn't what I wanted. Both items were needed for a meeting I have tomorrow.

Last night I sat up most of the night tossing and turning agonising over these 2 missing/inaccurate items. I would read to take my mind off of it and as soon as I got sleepy I would turn out the light and lay my head down. within 5 minutes I had to turn the lights back on and return to my reading because my head started spinning with all the things I needed to do on Monday morning.

I hate that!

This morning I was up at 5 am and out the door by 6:30. I was in the office before 7 am. I spoke to both colleagues this morning before 8:30 and we had completed both items by midday. I had absolutely no reason to stress out last night. But I didn't know that then.

I'll sleep like a log tonight. I hope.

Sleep Walking

My husband sleep walks. And not just a little bit either. I mean a lot. And in the most inconvenient of places and the most inconvenient of times.

The very first time he ever stayed over at my apartment, I awoke a few hours after falling asleep to find him standing over in a corner of the room making doggie paddling motions. When I asked him what he was doing he informed me he was catching the frogs. I then suggested that maybe my apartment didn't have any frogs and that maybe he should consider coming back to bed. He did. Not sure what he did with all the frogs he had already captured.

A few months later I awoke to find him standing in front of the bedroom windows sweeping down the curtains with his hands. When I asked him what he was doing, he informed me that he was collecting electricity. This was amazing. I didn't realise there was electricity in my curtains. I thought we had found a renewable source of energy. Alas, I politely asked him to return to bed and we could explore this in the morning. He unfortunately had no recollection of his exploration antics and had not properly stored any energy he collected the night before.

During the American troop invasion of Afghanistan we had been watching the progress of the battles on CNN. This night I awoke to find my husband had taken down the curtain rail in the bedroom and laid it across his lap. When I enquired about his activities he told me to be quiet, he was removing the bombs. Clearly, we had watched too much CNN that night. Amazingly, he put the curtain rail back up in his sleep.

I still wake up to find him wandering around occassionally. It's not nearly as alarming now as it used to be. I just tell him to get back in bed and he does after some incoherent mumbling. The tendency has been passed down genetically to our daughter. Abigail has been found in her closet and behind her door. Not exactly sure what she thought she was doing or how she got there but she was clearly having a late night wander just like her daddy!