I feel like a bruised reed in a rice patty field. Just barely hanging in there as the water rushes past me. My roots desperately gripping the watery soil and when the wind blows…well…it’s just a matter of time before I come apart completely.
Just a matter of time before I lose my grounding.
I feel so fragile that any interaction at all – ANYTHING – wears me out. I have such great friends around me – checking in on me every day and wanting to help me and love me through this but even responding to their kind messages hurts somehow.
This is so hard, you guys.
I saw a new GP on Monday after work. I really just wanted some anti anxiety tablets. Dr S is very young, very pretty and has thick, glossy, gorgeous hair framing a sweet, honey-coloured Indian face. She’s gorgeous. She’s also very smart, very ‘switched on’ and before you know it, I was in tears, head in my hands, stammering out “I just…I just need a rest…”
She declared I was in a bad place and indeed needed some rest.
“I want you to take a week off, Janet” she typed away on her computer “Do you have a psychologist you can see or did you want me to pair you up with someone?”
George’s friendly face instantly came to mind.
I couldn’t help but smile. Bless him.
“No, I’ve um…I’ve got someone” I sniffed.
Dr S smiled kindly and offered a nearby tissue box to me.
“Ok” she kept typing “I’d like you to book in an appointment with him as soon as possible. I have sent your details to the city Mental Health clinic and a Psychiatrist will call you and see you about changing your medication as the tablets you’re on are obviously not working”
I nodded and just let the tears fall.
“So take this” Dr S’s smile lit up her beautiful face as she held out my medical certificate “And get some rest. Come back in to see me tomorrow, I want to make sure you’re still around. We’ll make a plan together for how to help you…ok?”
I felt a glimmer of hope with this new Doctor. She seemed to really want to help.
“Ok” I agreed.
As soon as I left her office, the weight was back on my shoulders.
I can’t take a week off work. I’ll lose my job.
But I need to rest.
So all the way home from the city, I wrestled with the idea. Go to work for the rest of the week…push myself HARD with every day as well as travel to Fremantle to see “George” AND have a huge Dental work on Friday so that my weekend would be a blur of just trying to recover in time for Monday to do it all again.
I just cried.
I don’t want tot let anyone down. I don’t want to lose my job. With Alun so stressed and unhappy lately, I don’t want to add extra pressure on him if I can’t pay my half of our bills and rent. Not that Alun ever asks or expects it, but it means a lot to me.
I really need this rest.
With trembling fingers I typed out a message to my boss “I’m sorry but I’m unwell and I can’t come into work at all this week. I hate letting you all down. I can email across the medical certificate the Doctor gave me”.
I stared at that message for ages.
Think of Alun. This is NOT the time to lose a job, JD.
Think of yourself. If you go in another day when you’re already so broken…you could push yourself to the point of no return and end up in a psych ward. Then Alun will suffer anyway.