Day 331 – Anxiety alert
I had visions of how this weekend would be, of how it would all turn out, and if I am honest these visions were loosely based on the happier elements of Love Story, Breakfast at Tiffany’s and Gone with the Wind.
The problems started on Friday when I woke to find myself a bit flat. I tried to boost myself by reading a book, washing my hair and meeting my mother dearest for a cup of tea. Sadly the lull continued and after a crowded journey on the train where people have no awareness of personal space I arrived in Manchester with a very fake grin on my face.
I was determined that everything would be perfect, that I would be the girl with who he most wanted to be. I did my hair and nails and carefully selected a pretty, bright and festive dress. It was not enough however and it did not take long before the smile started to slide.
Hoping it was just hunger the boy and I went out to eat at our favourite restaurant. At first we did well, he held my hand and distracted me with stories of naughty children and clever little lessons he has been using to teach the kids about rhythm and rhyme.
It all began to go wrong however when more people came into the restaurant. It felt awfully crowded and I was terribly conscious of how fat I looked and how boring a partner I was being by barely partaking in the conversation. Here I was trying to be the perfect girlfriend and I couldn’t even succeed in making polite candle light whispers.
I went to bed not long after the disaster but this morning I woke feeling exactly the same, depressed, useless and ugly. We tried going to town, visiting the Christmas market even, but everywhere there were crowds and my anxiety levels just kept on soaring. Everyone seemed miserable to me and I could not join in with the festive cheer, it was all too much.
Perhaps we were expecting too much from my first weekend away from the ward. The medication has again been changed and am so susceptible to sadness and misery they seem to chase me through the alleys and drainpipes of every street.
I am so mad, because I am meant to be better and the bad thoughts have come back. I do not dare to tell the boy, speaking the s word out loud would mean to fail him all over again.
