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It is 4 weeks to the day since I took a week's worth of my psychatric meds in one go - it was my response to the callous attitude of a member of the local mental health crisis team. In any case, Christmas and the New Year felt impossible to face.
My cousin, who I am particularly close to, phoned me from New Zealand on Christmas Eve. The call got very emotional, especially when I told her about the overdose
I then had to go out to get my monthly prescription, and the walk to and from the chemist's seemed so sad to me as I watched other people running around on foot and their cars, mostly in pairs or more. I also looked at decoations in peoples' houses and it all seemed so poignant. Anyway, I got through it.
Christmas Day was a bit better: my sister had kindly cooked dinner for mum, dad and me, and brought it up. We ate together and it was quite nice. She also plated dinners for us for Boxing Day as there was enough food tom do so. I lay-down in a bedroom and don't remember much more about the day.
I remember watching some rugby on TV on boxing Day evening, but that's about all.
My attention started to turn to New Year's Eve, which I have always disliked before this illness. However, I did manage to get for decent walks when weather permitted. The trouble is: when I walk, my mijnd work's overtime and I ruminate horribly.
I got through the weekend and last weekdays of 2014.
On New Year's Eve, I stayed-up to watch the fireworks from London and then slept.
I had hoped that, with the forced jollities of Chrstmas and New Year out of the way, I would feel better. However, everything continues to be a struggle - even to get out of bed.
Last Saturday, I went to a lesbian / gay afternoon coffee-get-together in the centre of Belfast. It was testing enough to the get the bus and walk through the busy shopping streets, but I managed it. A few of us then went for a drink and a snack.
On Sunday, the same organisation's walking group were going for a walk along part of the north coast of Northern Ireland. So, as I woke in time I joined them. I did feel anxious and hemmed-in on the train.
We began the walk, and I soon realised that it took us close to a cliff edge. I confided in one of the walkers that I hated heights and felt I would be drawn over the edge and jump. He realised I was serious and we headed down another way to safety. What happened still bothered me, however. We then walked the length of the beach, and back.
Then, on Wednesday of this week, I decided to do a couple of things using my car. I have not driven much since my problems started in July 20013, and rarely recently. So, I was quite nervous but wanted to see if I could manage it. I was OK in the immediate area, but, when I had to go onto a faster road - a dual-carriageway - I could not cope in that more exposed area and I had to turn back at the nearest exit. Of course, now I feel bad about that.
This illness - prompted by an HIV scare - has left me with incessant worry, phobias that have got out-of-hand, no job (and, I fear, unemployable - I fear what floor any job would be on), suicidal ideation, etc, etc.
I am now on a cocktail of strong meds daily: Mirtazapine 45mg, Quetiapine 300mg, Pregablin 450mg and Zopiclone 7.5mg. With the exception of the Zopiclone, the other meds just don't seem to make any difference.
I just feel snookered.
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