If people were meant to pop out of bed, we’d all sleep in toasters
Posted May 15 2011 6:20pm
… instead I want to put the covers over my head and sleep the day away!
Moving back to Ireland for a while to deal with my mental health was never a well thought out plan. An afternoon meeting with my boss about my current job performance led to me opening up about how hopeless and unhappy I was feeling personally. My solution to quit was met by his offer to take some time off work, go home for a few weeks, spend time with family and get some full-time professional help. A one-way flight was booked within an hour and a couple of days later I was on my way ‘home’.
Back to my old bedroom where I spent hour upon unhappy hour hiding from the world during my teenage and early adult years. As a solution to feeling miserable and depressed, I have found myself back to this prison of unhappy memories. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…
Ireland’s weather is cold, grey and rainy, truly reflecting my mood – ‘pathetic fallacy’ if my life were an old English novel! I’m not working so have nothing much to do during the days and haven’t told any friends I’m home for fear of the inevitable ‘why are you not drinking?’. Budget cutbacks mean I have received none of the professional help here promised by my health insurance, instead having to call my amazing counsellor in Toronto when I’ve needed to speak to someone.
Not much point in getting out of bed – so I don’t. For days. And days. I do realise that this is letting depression win but I simply do not have the energy to fight it, or care. Emotionally, because I’m in the lowest state imaginable and physically, because sleeping for days on end without eating or exercising has me feeling weak and well, exhausted so I may as well go back to bed!
While the decision to return ‘home’ was made in my best interests; to take work pressure off and deal with personal issues, it was made too quickly without anybody fully thinking about it. Two weeks later, I feel even more helpless, hopeless and terrified of my own thoughts. Tomorrow I’m going to my GP for help so cross your fingers, wish on a star or whatever fairytale solution makes things better. I can’t do this for much longer.