And Back Down We Go...

I know that in life we will have enough enemies and battles to face without beating ourselves up too, but I often think that my own worst enemy is me in any case, so perhaps it doesn't matter.  I am feeling low again, like things are too much to cope with and that I would rather not be here to face them.  I feel like running away, but have nowhere to run and lack the means with which to do it, anyhow.

I spent last night at Samson's and woke early (ish), partly because my alarm decided it would go off due to it being a weekday and all (apparently this smart phone isn't smart enough to know when it's a bank holiday) and partly because my second alarm went off an hour later, reminding me to take my meds.  I felt quite awake for a while, got up to use the toilet, returned to bed, checked the new messages on my phone and then lay there debating whether to just get up, go to the living room and watch TV.  Samson was pretty much fast asleep as usual.  I lay there thinking for a while, then figured I may as well just go back to sleep for a bit.

Two hours later, Samson woke me - he was still in bed, but was listening to the news on the radio.  It was about 11am.  This always happens - I wake early, debate getting up as I feel awake and should make the most of the morning, then give into laziness and wake again when Samson does and the morning is almost over. We lay in bed for a bit, listening to the radio, cuddling and talking, then he decided to get up and make us breakfast.  Opening the curtains revealed a blue sky dotted with clouds, but some sunshine was breaking through at least.  I got dressed slowly, then joined him in the living room for the crumpets and tea he had prepared.  We watched an episode of Quantum Leap while we ate and once both the episode and our breakfast were finished, on went the XBox for some more L.A. Noire.  I must admit I quite enjoyed watching him play and trying to help him solve crimes while watching the storyline unfold.  He might spend a whole day playing video games, but I spend a whole day watching him play them.  I think that might be rather more sad.

It was a lazy day as usual, and although I didn't feel especially like doing anything I felt sort of restless, with a sense of discontent gnawing away at me.  I flitted between paying attention to the game and my own thoughts, knowing that I couldn't put my finger on anything specific that was wrong, but knowing that I didn't feel quite right. Aside from my motional weirdness, my lower back was feeling weak and sore and my stomach felt odd - like I was bloated or overly full, or some other uncomfortable sensation that I couldn't identify.

Sometime later, I told Samson I was thinking I should probably up my meds again.  I have been taking one and two doses on alternate days with a view to going from two capsules daily to just the one, as I originally started on.  Things had being feeling more stable and I thought I was ready to reduce my dose again.  But the past week or two, things have taken a downturn.  I have started to feel reluctant to go to work again, have found myself feeling less positive and more weak and have felt on the verge of tears fairly often, none of which are good signs.  I've also felt more of a compulsion to pick at my skin, which I've found gets worse when I'm feeling particularly anxious.  Things felt manageable for a short while and now I feel as though I have too much on my plate again and can't see how to deal with it all.

I talked to Samson a little, but didn't really have much to say and didn't feel able to express quite what I felt in any case.  "I feel sad," was about all I could muster and it was too simple a phrase to aptly describe what was going on inside.  The afternoon was ticking away and I knew I had to leave for home soon.  I started feeling more anxious and the thought of having to leave made me want to burst into tears. We decided to go out to get some food, then brought it back home to eat.  After eating, I decided I should stop delaying and make a move.  I bumped into Samson's flatmate Paxton on the way out, who wishes me a Happy Birthday (his is two days before mine) and said he hoped I wasn't leaving because of him.  I reassured him I wasn't, but truthfully did think it was probably a good time to go before anyone else got home.  When I feel like this, I don't feel very sociable and if I can manage to make the effort to be, I end up feeling drained later on.

When I arrived home, I saw that Bro-in-Law's parents were just driving away.  Big Sis had told me they would be coming over for tea and cake, but they were leaving later than I had expected.  I was a little relieved they weren't going to be there when I got home.  I waved as they drove past and got home just as it was starting to rain.  When I got in, I had a quick chat with Big Sis and Bro-in-Law, asking how tea with the in-laws was and how there weekend had been. Everything was OK till I asked if Big Sis had spoken to the 'rents this week. She said no and reacted with an "oh dear," when I said I hadn't either. I said I felt scared as Mum would probably be angry with me for the birthday thing. Her reply was, "Well you did seem a bit ungrateful when you told her she could go home." Oh great, so now it is my fault! I hadn't meant to sound ungrateful, but Mum had said they might as well go home since we were taking so long and I said that they could if they wanted to, as I wasn't dressed, still had to get in the bathroom and I knew she was getting fed up as they had already been waiting an hour. This is why I sometimes just want to stay away from people. Pointless crap always happens and I end up feeling crap about it and responsible for it. I spent the rest of the evening in my room, feeling fed up and unsettled. My mood is steadily falling back down the scale.