So I have been given an actual name of a diagnosis of separation anxiety and the doctor who suggested it to me seemed shocked that I hadn’t been told this before. To be fair to my GP and other agencies involved, I have never mentioned the overwhelming nature of the intrusive thoughts that govern my psyche right now. It feels good to be validated, to realise that I am not crazy, and this is an actual thing that can be cured. BY TALKING. I have felt very ashamed of my mental ill health, worried even that my child may be taken away (still worry about that to be honest but I do worry about all the things still), and the deepest darkest thoughts that I have had, I have kept to myself. Like that when my child is ill, they will develop sepsis or meningitis and die. Or the obsessive checking that my son is still breathing throughout the night as I have always been terrified of cot death. It’s this that qualifies as the separation anxiety too which I didn’t realise, I don’t have to be physically away from my son for this to happen either (although that also makes it bad obviously) . To be told that this is actually a very common thing to happen makes me feel a little less (but not much) strange. Added to the fact that I have been told I am mental so many times, I’ve come to believe that and that does feel shameful.
Anyway it’s time to say bollocks to all that now. It’s time to stand up and take control of my life which has spiralled so far into disarray I can’t even remember what it was like to be happy. How can that have even happened? I can’t remember happiness and it’s all the fault of my own brain. Talk about self sabotage and to make yourself mentally ill (and physically) is the ultimate form. I’ve been told that talking therapy and lots of it is the cure, and it will be cured. So that is good and hopeful. That is why I do feel somewhat better. The talking bit makes me nervous but it’s got to the point where know I need to do it. It will help. Someone has offered me help and I’ve got to the point now where I know I need to accept it. It’s taken me getting to rock bottom to realise it but at least there is nowhere lower left to sink. OK so depressing AF now, I’ll shut up. I’ll hopefully make some progress with this and my other counselling sessions (cbt-making me realise I have been anxious since the dawn of time) and of course the anti ds. I’ll publish an update about it for sure but it’s going to take a while.
The last thing I’m going to say before I trot off to squeeze in eating as many snacks and as much shitty TV as is humanly possible now the little is in bed is…
If you identify with any of what I have written here and in any of my previous ramblings, do please talk to someone. Family, friends, obviously your doctor if you are worried. They will help. Leave nothing out and spill all the beans. Silence is most definitely not golden in this circumstance.
All the best. R x