A favourite quote and a way by which to approach life.

Today is the tomorrow that you worried about yesterday.

Tuesday, 2 April 2013


I hate feeling like this.  I hate being so unhappy, tired, and anxious all the time.  I try to relax with distraction, with breathing exercises, with systematic relaxation, with some of the principles of mindfulness, with making myself go out and about even when I don't feel like it, with music, with the radio, with the telly, with almost anything I can think of, but nothing works long-term.  By the end of the day I'm exhausted from lack of sleep the previous night, from anxiety, from flashbacks, from the depression itself, from trying to distract myself from all of this.  I run out of ways to cope (or making a pretence of coping), and all the mess comes rising to the surface.  I can't sleep.  The images, sensations, feelings, anxieties, negative and intrusive thoughts, and all the upset crowd in on me and threaten to drown me.  By this time I'm beyond being able to distract myself any further, having had to do so all through the day, and I feel like I'm drowning.  I don't sleep.  I cry.  I toss and turn.  I relive the traumas that haunt me.  Alone and afraid, feeling weak and vulnerable, I lose myself in my upset.

I was supposed to have gone up to Edinburgh on Saturday and be spending this week up there with my mum and step-dad.  When it came to it, I didn't feel able to go and actually needed to stay here where the professional support is trying to hold me up.  My mum and step-dad came down to me for Easter instead, and last night/early this morning Mum checked in on me to see if I was asleep.  I wasn't.  I couldn't.  My insides were churning and my mind whirring in never ending arguments with myself, thoughts and general mess.  She sat with me, held my hand, and stroked my head like she did when I was a young child.  I felt so little, vulnerable, and fragile; and tears slipped from my eyes and dampened my pillow.  Eventually I felt safe in Mum's comfort, some of the anxiety was quelled, and sleep came.  I stirred a little when Mum got up off the side of my bed and went back to her bed in the living room, but I had been reassured.  I turned over and went back to sleep for four and a half hours.

Today I've caught myself chastising myself for needing that little girl comfort, that reassurance, but it helped, and I remind myself that it shouldn't matter that I'm 38 and needing what I had last night.   I have to tell myself that whatever I need at the moment to help me feel better, to relax, to have a rest from the brokenness is okay.  The chastising part of me continues to poke at me, and it's a battle to keep hold of the gentle, nurturing self.  I don't always succeed.  In fact, I often don't succeed.  I argue with myself and yet somehow manage to lose the argument.

One of the members of the crisis team (CATT) told me today that he thinks I can come through this.  I want to believe him because I so hate feeling this way, but I'm so tired that I'm not sure he's right.  I do all that I'm asked to help myself - I do more than I'm asked if I can think of anything - but nothing to date has made any great impact on my distress.  That, in itself, adds to the distress.

I don't remember if I'd said this to you before or not, but a few months ago I said to my psychologist that depression is a monster that tells you lies.  The logical part of my brain still believes this, but the bit that is over-powered by the monster can't hold on to this and believes all that Depression tells me.  I'm trapped.


Zim said...

Do You have good weather in Great Britain? I ask, because we in Poland have really long winter now. And I know, that climate or weather has big influence on mood - don't You have seasonal depression?
I wish You winning with depression. Try forgive people, who made You something bad in the past, if You can.
Greetings for You from snowy and cold south Poland.

Chris said...

Don't worry about needing what you need (your mum stroking your head). Whatever helps, just accept. I know you know that.

Chris said...

I think that some things work sometimes but sometimes few things work (most of the time).

Some other time those things will work better than they do today. In the meantime you do what you can.

Try not to get fatalistic about things not helping, if you can. I know it is really hard.

Take care,

Chris :-)

Rachael said...

Thinking of and praying for you Becky xxx

BeckyG said...

Thank you Zim, Chris, and Rachael for your comments, thoughts, and prayers.

Chris, you're right about some things working sometimes, but most of the time few things (or nothing) works. I just haven't worked out how to deal with the times when few things (or nothing) works.

Zim, I know that some people do get seasonal depression, but that hasn't noticeably been a problem for me in the past. No, the things I'm struggling with at the moment mostly relates to my ill-health, so not something I can forgive as you suggest. The other things contributing to what's going on for me at the moment are difficult situations, rather than things that need to be forgiven. As for the weather, it's still very cold here too, though most likely not as cold as you have it in south Poland. It's been a very long winter here too, and no real sign yet of spring weather appearing any time soon.


Bob Lewis said...

Backy, Have you ever tried Yoga? If not then give it a try if you can find a good yoga instructor in your area. I witnessed. It's sometime out of your imagination the relief that you get out of Yoga. Especially, breathing exercise. There are certain Asanas for Asthma and respiratory conditions. You gotta give them a try. All the best...

vivinfrance said...

You are not trapped - the lying monster is not to be believed.

Mothers are there exactly as your mother was, to help, support, comfort their children. I do it, and any other mother I know does it. It goes with the territory.

Prayers are being said for you all over the place. Bear yourself up on them.