It’s funny that Halfway Between the Gutter and the Stars should have nominated me for a Strong Person Award today. One of the reasons that I haven’t been around keeping up with you all is that by the end of last week I was feeling anything but strong.
Monday morning was horrendous. Somewhere between my own paranoia and a misunderstanding with my manager, I became convinced that my work were on the look out for ways to fire me, and spent the rest of the day alternating between stressing about being potentially unemployed, and stewing with anger at the inequity of it.
Despite the best efforts of my colleagues in helping me keep it together, the week went down hill from there on, really.
It’s becoming increasingly clear that my current role is having a negative impact on my mental health. A new position would probably help matters, as I’ve identified that part of the problem is that I’m finding the micro-managing environment I work in too constrictive, but I’m not sure that it would be enough as a long-term solution.
I have applied for the job I talked about wanting a couple of weeks ago. And I would still be over the moon if the got it.
But I’m concerned that I’m finding it increasingly difficult managing to be sane to someone else’s timetable, and I’ve wondered whether it might be better for me to find a way that I can start to structure my work around my mental health, rather than the other way round. Possibly by looking for some freelance work so that I can cut back on my regular hours.
Despite my best efforts at holding things together, I spent three hours at the hairdresser on Thursday night, mostly thinking about how much I desperately wanted to die.
I feel so sorry for the poor hair stylist.
He did so much work to try to give me exactly what I’d wanted, which is a completely different colour and style from what I had before. I think at the end of it he was expecting at least some sort of reaction. Especially considering I was getting a massive seventy-five percent discount through my workplace.
And he’d done a really good job.
I just couldn’t muster anything to say.
I just all seemed so pointless; I didn’t care about my hair. I didn’t care about anything. I just wanted to disappear; for someone taking a surveying look at the canvas of life to come along and just smudge me out of existence.
I even thought that I might need to go into hospital later that night, as trying to build something worth living for just seemed like it was failing miserably.
I stopped taking my mirtazapine because I didn’t have the time, energy, or inclination to pick up my new prescription.
And that’s made me wonder whether coming off them entirely, or switching on to something different, might not be the best thing for me.
Because this weekend without them was incredible.
That might have been in large part down to my very own Super Saturday, but I don’t know whether I would have experienced the joy of that if I had been and picked up the prescription. I guess I’ll need to discuss it with my GP.
But anyway, that was phase one of my disappearing act.
The weekend went on to encompass surprising news, unbearable heat, and surprising connections, which all kept me very busy, and mostly away from the internet. Although the greatness all started with the new blog I started – so that I could add it to my CV and showcase the new skills that I’m claiming that I’ve learned in setting up this one – being Freshly Pressed.
I couldn’t believe it. I hadn’t even proof-read the post that they selected and certainly I hadn’t thought it was anything special. I was just looking to generate some content to get myself started, and up and running. It had me high as a kite for most of the weekend. And reassured me that I’m perhaps not being entirely delusional in thinking that I can write.
But I will save the other side of the story for Part II…