So my weekend mostly sucked. The constant packing and changing and stuff going on is playing havoc with my mental health. It’s a well known trigger for me, stress, and I am currently drowning in it. Despite anti-depressants, beta blockers and pints of rescue remedy, yesterday morning I found myself in a desperate hunt for my shaver and now find myself minus my month or so’s worth of hair.
Disappointed doesn’t cover it. I was so proud that I’d got to a point where I could feel hair on my head again without panicking, run my hands through it without trying to pull it out and generally look like a normal human being. I was planning how I could have my hair when it grew out a bit more, plans for Victory Rolls, or sleek bobs, pondering whether to stay blonde or dye it the apple red of my wig. Now I’m back to square one, again.
I know I embraced it last time but I don’t think I have the energy to sell it to myself this time around. I am using all my spoons to pack and not have a full on breakdown. I spent 9 hours of Sunday in bed, sleeping on and off, tweeting from my phone, feeling angry and upset and unable to cry.
I’m exhausted. Truly, completely, exhausted. Twice in the last week I have prayed that I wouldn’t wake up in the morning because it’s all just too much. Twice I have woken up and been genuinely heartbroken that my prayers weren’t answered. I don’t have anything left. That picture is the closest I could get to a smile because I just do not have the strength to move my facial muscles.
Why people consider depression a mental illness is beyond me because the physical symptoms are so awful. Fatigue, aching muscles, fatigue, loss of appetite, and did I mention fatigue? It could be the flu, it could be glandular fever, it could be something more deadly, if you took those symptoms to a doctor it could well be a physical illness. So if anyone tells me to “cheer up,” or similar be prepared to get told where to stick your opinion.