I had thought I was feeling a little better this morning.
Had an absolutely spectacular spaz out at lunchtime today. Why?
Because I went into the kitchen to make something for lunch, and there was nothing for me to do that with. There was food, but pretty much EVERY SINGLE DISH IN THE HOUSE was dirty and on the kitchen bench.
But that in itself didn’t phase me too much. I was annoyed, and settled down to sort out the dishwasher and get it running again so I could clear a bit of the sink and wash a plate/bowl so I could do some lunch.
THEN IT HAPPENED. I picked up a pot off the bench, and it turns out that it was a structural object for that entire section of the bench. I managed to catch most of it, but a glass fell on the floor and smashed.
Then I had to clean it all up. I was feeling pretty awful by this point, but it got worse.
Our dishwasher is missing one of the spiny things that hold the plates up – so it’s a bit of a balancing act to get the smaller side plates to stack properly. THEY WOULDN’T STAY STACKED. I’d get them sitting properly, and as soon as I moved the drawer even the slightest bit they’d all fall over again.
This was the straw that broke the camel’s back… Hubby sort of got a phone call from me in a blubbering mess, telling him that when he got home he was going to DO THE F***ING DISHES because I. Just. Can’t.
I took the little plates out and just ran it without them, because I was determined to get SOMETHING good out of the mess.
I ended up eating cereal for lunch because I hadn’t managed to get anything clean – cereal eaten out of a mug, with a teaspoon.
UGH I was doing so well WHY do I have to start having trouble again?!?!?!
And yesterday, one of my uni friends asked where I was all last week. I ended up just mumbling something about it being a ‘bad week’ and left it at that, because I’m not sure what his approach to mental health is just yet. Also, I’ve only known him for 2 months, I’m not sure how much I really want to share just yet…
Sometimes, this still feels like a very private battle, because it’s extremely hard to explain it to people without them brushing it off (“oh, we all have days like that. It’ll be better tomorrow”) or looking at me like I’ve grown an extra head or am going to randomly start killing people.
I even get the feeling sometimes that Hubby doesn’t believe it’s as bad as I tell him, but I’ve got no idea whether that’s an actual thing or just the anxiety/depression talking.
Now I’m going to go and do some Tai Chi and see if I can calm down enough to get back to my assignment.
Oh did I mention? 2 assignments and an exam, all between Friday and Monday. Haha oh what a fun week I shall have…