What change though?
What has happened since September. Well, I have stopped the meds they put me on. NOT ADVISABLE in any circumstance. I was on Arirpiprazole and Venlafaxine, they were making me drowsy (I’d be knackered after sorting my daughter for the school run, and fall asleep until half three.. Not good) and lethargic. I wasn’t any use to my Husband or daughter. I couldn’t do anything, except sleep.
So while my Husband was off work, with a week of lie-ins, I didn’t take my meds as regularly as I should have. In fact, I missed days and some days, I didn’t take them at all. Again, NOT ADVISABLE! Since taking them made me feel so useless, I was feeling better having not taken them. So I stopped. I felt rough as hell doing so, but I stopped.
So where am I now?
I am laughing at random things again, making random quips in situations where I shouldn’t. I am feeling better. I don’t feel suicidal, I haven’t self-harmed. I am feeling ‘human’, more responsive if you will, to everything. My environment and the people around me.
I am learning more about myself. I have been reading, yes reading, a lot of Twitter and learning more about the type of person I want to be and am becoming. I like who I am becoming, it would be nice if I was a little more confrontational. I can’t help but just not interact with people who are tearing into followers and myself. I am not confident in the terminology I want to use, scared I will make a prat of myself. Like the school days when I couldn’t get my words out quick enough to shame the bully. It’s hard. I find myself writing tweets to people and then deleting them just in case they don’t make sense or they are taken in the wrong way. I am hyper aware of the language I use, learning new words and what is acceptable and what isn’t.
I have been neglecting this blog. I have been avoiding it in all reality as it’s just proof of everything I have let go. I have been using my breakdown as a milestone for when everything turned to crap for me. I can’t get away from anything. I am beating myself up over everything. I am not as skinny as I was, as fit as I was and hell, attractive as I was. Being pushed away and neglected, or thinking I am (paranoia playing a massive role in situations that are normal and are just being blown out of proportion).
So now we are leading up to Christmas. ‘The FESTIVE TIME FOR CHEER!’ My fecking arse. It’s shite. I hate Christmas with a passion. If it wasn’t for Kiddo, it won’t happen. I put the tree up for her. The magic happens for her. She is 8 and still desperately wants to believe. She is innocent still. A strong minded, stubborn little ‘lady’ who knows what she wants. I am still so damn scared for her. I know she is safe, we talk about ‘No Touch Zones’, ‘Secrets are dangerous’, and we don’t use nicknames for body parts. Even if she does find saying ‘Vagina’ weird.
I am so proud of her. I really am. She is growing into an amazing little person.
And so we come full circle. What do I have to look forward too….
I have a rape and sexual abuse counselling evaluation…
Staff work’s do…
So yeah, I am not dead. I am still here. I will try and post more often, if anyone is interested.
Right. I am off.