Things, at the moment, let’s be honest, are less than ideal. I am (more than) a touch depressed, but it’s early days yet. I have increased duloxetine from 30mg to 45mg, so we’ll see how that goes. My prescription is for 2 x 30mg every morning, so that I can go back up to 60mg if necessary, although it did make me rather hypomanic. What is more troubling is the volume and constancy of the voices and the noises, things smelling of spilt beer all the time, the Fear, and generally being overwhelmed by everything. I tried to make pizza last night, frozen pizza, but I couldn’t even work out the first step. In the end my dad did it for me. Feel like an utter failure for that. That and my mum having to take me to Sainsbury’s because I was too scared and muddled to go on my own. Tonight I’m making green Thai curry. I’ll be spending some time in advance writing down every single little step so that I know what I’m doing. It’s even little things I’m not able to work out – putting the shopping away, for example, I’m having to put each thing away one at a time. I can’t manage the fact that the milk and the cheese and the tomatoes all go in the fridge – each one goes in separately one at a time because I just cannot process the thoughts. It’s like the voices are making a huge block and using up all my focus. I’m not driving at the moment for the same reasons.
Earlier in the year I had set myself a mid-year target of getting a job. It didn’t really matter what, but that’s what recovery (*shudders*) means to me – being able to work. My CPN and family have basically told me I need to scale that goal waaaaaay back. So my mid-year recovery target is now ‘being able to go to the cinema’. That’s it. This is not where I wanted to be at 27. I wanted a house, a full-time job and a couple of kids. Instead I’m living at my parents’ with my husband with no kids and essentially no job. Although I do have cats. So that’s good. And Husband of course. I quite like him.
TL;DR I suck at life, the voices aren’t helping.