Recently - things in my life have just gone pear shaped, so I guess the best way for me to actually process what is actually go on in my life and ultimately in my head is to type an open journal. Generally my blog is just an open view into my brain, how it ticks, works and what I am thinking. It's a way for people to get to know me without me actually word vomiting in their face. I have always been a thinker from a young age I would just daydream and think. I like to listen too, but I have the tendency to butt in during conversations too. I would almost call myself an In Betweener. Yes... I would accurately compare myself to one of those guys from that British series. Only difference I guess between them and me, is a penis.
So a year ago my mum got diagnosed with Stage 4 Non-Small Cell Lung Cancer, for all you people that can't be bothered googling it is essentially linked to smokers (even non smokers). It has been to say the least a tough bloody year for our family and very close friends. My brother, who if ever reads this has to be noted as one of the strongest bloody individuals I have ever met. He has been my mum's carer for the past 12 months and if I could give a price in anyway shape or form... it would be to show how grateful I am to have him in my life, but not just mine. Our children too.
The past month mum decided to stop treatment and in the past 3 weeks I have slowly in small ways started to lose my mum. She still has that sharp tongue when she needs it but the physical changes are what is hurting me the most. I'm OK with her deciding this, it is HER body and HER choice. And we respect that, but doesn't make it any easier of course.
Which brings me to why I have decided to get back into blogging - the past month my mental health has deteriorated so rapidly I wake most mornings not knowing who I am anymore or why I am still here. I am generally so open about my mental health - but I have this voice right behind me telling me to be strong for everyone else, you can crash later. And heck that STIGMA that I must be strong is hard hitting. I wake up exhausted, angry, hurt, sad and depressed most days. I can't remember the last day I woke up happy! And I guess I need to re-wind a bit here. And really really show where it started to fall apart.
July 2018 - Alfred Hospital, I was officially put on the waiting list for have my Band removed and to have the Sleeve done. This may or may not happen in one surgery. At this stage, I am STILL unsure if I want to proceed with the sleeve.
August/September 2018 - I basically discharge myself from seeing my psych. I have been feeling really good about myself lately. Mum was in a stable position, I was awaiting the call from the Alfred and ultimately I had decided to return to Uni (or should say, go to Uni) to study Psychology. I felt REALLY good, and this is probably the last time I felt truly Happy.
December 2018 - hectic month, Christmas, end of year and just general tiredness. I sat my first ever exam and felt really pumped to start my 3rd unit to officially enrol into Swinburne. But my mental health slowly day by day here started to waiver. The exhaustion of not being about to be everywhere at once was starting to take its toll and working as a Baker was not helping. By the end of the month, I decide to postpone Unit 3.
January 2019 - taking each day as it comes. I am neither sad or happy. I am in this slow rut. My patience is wearing thin, my self loathing starts to begin more and more. I am starting to hate myself for who I have become and what I look like. I have some pH 24 hour test where you have a tube shoved down your nose to monitor acidity levels. Sets my anxiety right off...
February 2019 - Mum decides to stop treatment and my mental health is pushed back further. I decide to not do Unit 3 because my time needs to be elsewhere. I do decide that I want to go into Management again and attend an information session for department managers. By this month, my mood is definitely not in the green zone. Most days I am angry... at what I am unsure.
Today March 6th
I have woken up depressed and for the first time I am admitting that I am depressed. I know I have been for a while, maybe I shouldn't of stopped seeing my psych so quickly, but I was feeling the best I had felt in years back then. But right now - wow... it's such a different feeling to PND where my days were blurry and numb. I feel everything this time. I feel the anger, the hurt, the pain and the sadness. The one person I can normally rely on (ME) to talk openly about depression is creating this bubble and not wanting to openly discuss it. Why??? Stigma I suppose... and I think I know one main culprit of my depression and why I am here. It's not the fear of losing my mum, it is the fear of losing the one person in my life that has ALWAYS loved me for ME.
to be continued...
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