I set off on this trip with Michael with such great expectations. This break would be my silver bullet, my panacea, lightness of spirit and hope bursting out of my very soul.
What a load of bollocks. I spent most of the trip in abject misery, afflicted with panic and anxiety. whilst the love of my life, Michael wondered what the hell to do with me.
And I was having falls. Lots of falls. Mostly onto rocks, spectacularly onto glass , tripped up by the dogs' leads, the steps to the caravan, inside the caravan
And I was terrified of losing items, of forgetting words, of being afraid all the time. I was dropping items, spilling food and drink on me, on Michael and inside the caravan. I spent most of this time enveloped in self-pity. Fucking hell, I was such a pain in the arse.
Then, I had met a retired doctor called Tim urged myself to spoil myself, to be kind to myself and not have too many expectations, Michael had been trying to support this idea of no expectations, but mostly I rejected him, caught in this inexplicable cycle.
Then, two moments collided to make me rethink this horrible state. Tim revealed there were many "self haters" in the world (which was a revelation) and if I couldn't love myself, perhaps I could make an effort to like myself...hmmm. Still I couldn't surface out of the fog...until Michael and I had a blazing row which was entirely my fault. Jealousy at him having fun with Tim and Lizzy, not being totally in my orbit all the time and making me wait before we walked the dogs on a sweltering Marble Bar evening.
He had just had enough, Tired of me crying all the time, tired of me not being responsible for my actions, tired of being cooped up with me in an 11 foot caravan and having nowhere to go, He was ready to go if I couldn't get my act together.
Suddenly I was dumbstruck. My ever patient, ever tolerant, ever caring and adored husband was being serious. I thought of his anguish and hurt with his previous wives and stupidly, I was going down the same path as them. On that fateful evening, I knew he had called my number and the onus was on me to change my appalling attitude.
I knew I had to change. But I also wondered if there was another trigger that had contributed to this emotional anarchy.
Knowing me, I consulted Doctor Google. I had a hunch that the very expensive anti-depressant that I had begun taking over twelve months ago could have been, at least partially, the culprit. I was gobsmacked by my research. This drug caused panic and anxiety and dizziness leaving one susceptible to falling. I also wondered I was atypical, due to the fact I had been told to cease taking my very reliable SSRI, because I might get fat! By a cardiologist who was only interested in prescribing as many drugs as possible. Fortunately another cardiologist had conducted a "tabletectomy" on most of the medication that she had prescribed.
But still I remained on this bloody anti-depressant and even was prescribed more (mostly due to my short sighted insistence) plus a mood stabiliser.
Had these drugs been helpful at all? I began to doubt this entire drug regime. So, I made a decision. I was going to wean me off this destructive stuff and before I introduce any more drugs, just looking for who I used to be,
Michael is concerned I will turn into a loony as a result of a drug-less state but I have to try...before I introduce any other drugs.
I have only had one more wobbly day and I am determined not to be overwhelmed again. So I gritted my teeth, thought of my wonderful husband and had an afternoon nap, Upon waking, I regained my equilibrium.
I have also started reducing my meds. I plan to see a new GP and talk through what I hope to achieve in the future, both immediate and long lasting
Plus, I will reunite with my beloved Barry, my thigh throbbing exercise bicycle and return to the "dog park" at the Beverley oval, seeing my doggy friends and their parents, all on the day after coming come. And of course, Chop our cat. I just pray he doesn't give us the hairy eyeball for too long..
The last six months have been a hell of a ride. Not any more. I have far too much to lose.and I an not going to go down that path again.
Dedicated to you and love to you, Michael. And I will work at having no expectations.
That is all.
Bugger me, I have had a light-bulb moment (or two)!
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