I didn’t write Sunday because I spent the entire day in bed, lying down, doing nothing. I just didn’t have the energy and that’s the problem with depression. Every morning I have this internal (and eternal) struggle to get out of bed, my dad thinks it’s because of school. I wish it was, I wish it was the prospect of going to school but it’s not, it’s just getting out of bed. Wherever I am, I am plagued with intrusive thoughts and it’s not like when manic and having racing, split thoughts which whilst distressing are not confidence shaking (in fact the confidence takes a great booast) and I’d much rather be in bed with these thoughts knowing that I won’t get hurt than be out in the world and just think: “who is going to hurt me?” Which isn’t the attitude I want to adopt.
Today, I struggled to get out of bed (but I did) and as usual I had to rush to get ready and then my brother ends up late for school. But I can’t rush, I just don’t have the cognitive ability to rush. I have slow motor skills. From depression? From lack of sleep? God knows. But I do and so I walk slow and have had to recitify the time I leave the car so I’m not late for school. I get there and SK is there and I tell her about my psychatrist appointment on Wednesday. I don’t really think I explained the entire situation well. Basically, my doctor recommended I go private but it’ll cost £200-£300 (yet another thing to feel guilty about) and so my dad rang up the place my doctor recommended and the receptionist said that the psychatrist my doctor recommended doesn’t take on under 18 year olds but my dad asked if he’d make an exception because that’s who my doctor recommended and she said she’d talk to him because he was busy and would call back. She didn’t call back. My dad called today and she said that I did have an appointment with the top man (the psychatrist my doctor recommended) for 5pm Wednesday, so that’s good. Anyway, I had English first two periods and the roof was leaking from the rain; it was coming through the vents. So JLS (who arrived late) has to sit in a different spot as it was leaking directly next to me where she sits.
Then break and here is where I’m an idiot. JLS needed some food and as usual the canteen is crowded. But I walk around the edge of the crowd and usually my breathing would go shallow and it would calm down after a few minutes. Not this time. I went faint and almost did faint; shallow breathing but it didn’t erupt into a fully fledged panic attack. Just the beginnings of one. So I sat in the medical room and basically just started to cry because I am sick of making myself look like an idiot and it wouldn’t stop. Just shallow breathing and not turning into a fully fledged panic attack. Guess what lesson I missed? PE and RE! Why always those two lessons?! Why?! But after 45minutes of shallow breathing, crying and calling myself an idiot, the medical staff decided to send me home and when I got home I just lay down, annoyed. I kept saying to my dad, I’m an idiot (he didn’t disagree) he only disagreed when I called myself useless. I’m just this broken little expensive 5’4 girl. So hence why my self esteem is at rock bottom at the moment. Plus, I owe my dad £200 for a manic period. But he’s willing to let majority of that slide. I just need £20 and I can only sell so much on eBay. So, if you were to ask what my current feelings are at 20:11 on a Monday evening are? I’d have to say: depression, stress over the classes I now have to catch up on, guilt over how much money I have spent on my bipolar both through treatment, diesel on picking me up after panic attacks and my manic spending and desperation over getting £20. I know my dad doesn’t hold against me the money for picking me up and treatment but I do because I can’t realistically pay him back for years.
I just need to sleep because when I used to sleep I used to have a moment of pure clarity before falling asleep when I would know whether something I was deciding to say or do was a good decision or I’d come up with a solution but because I don’t sleep (didn’t sleep at all last night and eyes are bloodshot), I just make bad decisions and come up with no solutions whilst losing my ability to remember and my mental dexterity. I’ve also slacked on writing in my journal and I need to do it sooner rather than later, so I’ll do it later tonight. But after punching a wall through frustration during a mixed episode my right hand hurts at the base and I have nerve problems. I also can’t read much anymore because my eyes are so sore and my concentration is shot. But I’ll tell you what I do have, a different way of looking at the world. Not necessarily good or bad, just different.