Tough times...

Not a good post today I'm afraid. I'm trying to work through several issues, and figure out where on earth I am supposed to go with them.

In my last post I said I had highs, lows, pain and fun. I pretty much covered the three of the four (and incedently still in a little pain from the run...)

The lows I haven't really touched.

The last month of so has been really bad, GD wise. I can't concentrate, have been back on the valdispeert, my anxiety has peaked again. My work has suffered, and my life outside work has been affected.

Things have really gone south this week. Saturday I could not concentrate on *anything* except the constant anxiety over my GD. I am a telly addict to a degree. I like Saturday nights on BBC 1 (Total Wipeout, Doctor Who, Over the Rainbow) I don't remember anything about the first, the only thing I remember about the second is that it was not the strongest episode I have seen, and the third I just could not get into. I was just totaly inside myself.

Sunday was not too bad, thankfully. The run put the thoughts out of my head somewhat for most of the day and then I got changed when I got home and found peace. I was me. For the whole evening. Not just with the clothes, but totally - I find it hard to explain. But it was the firs time in a while I had shaken the anxiety.

Then that night I felt really guilty about only being anxiety free in that situation - it doesn't bode well for being able to cope now does it. Monday was a nightmare day. Couldn't think about anything, went for lunch with the colleague that I told recently to talk about it more. He would make a great psycologist... However, it brought the thoughts of the night before to the front again. I spent the evening in anxiety mode again, only this time the pills did little to control the physical side of the anxiety. I felt I really needed to dress again and shoot for the same feeling I had Sunday night, but I didn't want to take Mrs Stace's husband away for the second time in two days.

She told to get changed anway if it would help, but then I remember I had to clean the rabbit, and I wasn't going to go into the garden dressed.

That night I told her of my thoughts about not sure how I am going to be able to cope. Neither of us slept well. Me worse than her and at 3am I went to the spare room so as not to disturb her any more.

Tuesday was an absolute zombie day. Not being able to think, and being totally exhausted.

Yesterday went pretty much the same.

Then Mrs Stace told me about something her colleague said regarding regarding death. And I ended up telling her the suicidal thoughts that I have had over the years, many years, since before I was twenty.

Now, I have never *seriously* considered it - I don't want anybody to worry - but standing at train stations I have thought about how a quick jump would stop the constant issues in my head. Or when driving over high bridges etc etc.

After I told her I cried a little - something I can't do very often. I feel that my life is good, if you take a way the GD. But if I feel life is so good why on earth would I work out the best way to end it? And when I go for my first appointment at the VU (that I *hope* to arrange within the next week or two) how on earth is the phychiatrist going to react to that. I can't hide it from them oibviously, but it doesn't sound particularly sane in my head.

I have to say, telling Mrs Stace last night helped a lot. And I do feel better today than I did the last few days.