Tag Archives: Jobcentre

Well, Well, Well, What Do We Have Here Then?

19 Mar

Dear Diary,

I don’t know where to start really, my mind is racing at such a speed, I feel like my neck is going to break. This morning I had an appointment with a psychiatrist and I was finally given an answer. I guess I should see this as a positive experience because the lady was lovely, but I didn’t really receive the answer I was hoping for. Somewhere deep in my heart I knew it was always a possibility because my moods aren’t stable and haven’t been since November, yet when those words left the woman’s lips, I couldn’t quite believe it. Me? I thought, but I have depression! I’m depressed! The doctors I’ve spoken to have always told me I suffer from depression! 

When I left the stark white office I didn’t have the time to digest the information because I had to rush to the Jobcentre. Yes, all that trouble I caused myself when I snapped at the sullen faced advisor has been dealt with now. My local Jobcentre relented and I’m still searching for a job. But now I have this niggling feeling inside me because Christ, who the hell would want me to work for them?

After the Jobcentre, I went to Mind and I sat in another office, but this time I was in front of a computer. I like my volunteer job, I really do. It’s helping my confidence and brick by nervous brick, I’m beginning to shed my terror at holding another job.  And the brilliant people at Mind helped me snatch my benefits back after I lost them due to no fault of my own. Well, those snappy words did leave my lips, the depressed tears did roll down my cheeks and I did have a little breakdown at my local Jobcentre, but now I have a reason for that!

I left Mind early today because I felt like the walls were closing in on me. I knew I needed to go home and put everything I had learnt today into perspective. Of course with me being my usual disorganised and clumsy self, I’m still trying to come to terms with the tsunami in my head. My brother did take me out to lunch though, which was a sweet gesture and the baguette was beautiful. But back to the main point I’m trying desperately to explain before my head implodes…

The psychiatrist said I was currently in a Hypomanic state. Add the severely depressed episodes into the equation and what do you have? A mood disorder, possibly Bipolar.

Well, fuck.

FUCK.

FUCK.

FUCK!

Why does this have to happen to me now!? I was beginning to really understand my depression, the triggers and what I could do to make myself feel a little better. But now my life has another twist, a turn and everything is up in the air. I know there are different types of Bipolar disorders and I don’t know what I have. To be honest, I think it’s difficult to diagnose in the first place and I just want to tear my hair out. Although there is one side to this illness I’m quite taken with: The creativity. I’m being doused in flames of words, thoughts and ideas to the point where I’m jumping from one thought to another. It’s a constant rush and it’s making me feel queasy but compared to depression, this is a walk in a pretty, little park with ten foot flowers and a famous Beatle on every corner.

I love the creative side to this, even though I just stopped myself from decorating the house the other week. There are these small tubes of paint downstairs and I really wanted to splatter the walls with bright colours and express myself like a true artist. I should probably note here that I’m not an artist and I can’t paint, draw or create masterpieces. Although if I tried… You see what’s happening?  My thoughts are so pure, happy and fluffy they’re telling me I can do anything or be anyone! It’s only when I write these things down do I wonder if my brain is trying to get me in trouble.

Oh, bollocks. I don’t know what to do right now.  I slept about four hours last night, I fell asleep for at least an hour and a half earlier and although my body tells me I need sleep, my mind is hurtling away from me and I don’t want to wrangle with it. This isn’t depression and I don’t want to die. There are no deep, dark, bleak, black thoughts so why should I be trying to calm myself down? This is a much needed and loved run of happiness and long may it continue!

‘Til the Pain is So Big You Feel Nothing At All

14 Nov

Dear Diary,

It didn’t work. Even with the heating on sleep still escaped me until late and as a result I was like a walking zombie this morning. Sadly I had to go out today, I wandered out the house without a coat on and by the time I reached the bottom of the road I was cold. Part of me welcomed the chill, the weather had quite a bite and I felt something. The numbness I’ve been drowning in these past few weeks was somewhat startled by the crisp air and I felt something. A tiny thought of ‘What am I doing?’ flittered through my mind before I pushed it away in favour of the numbness. It makes me feel safe, it’s like a comfort blanket and I don’t know what to do without it anymore. I can’t cope with my thoughts, pain and the overwhelming urge to make a life for myself, so I stay as detatched as possible. It’s better this way because I don’t get hurt.

I  had to go to the Jobcentre this morning and I despise the place. Nobody understands how much I want a job, one that will lift my spirits and stop me from feeling like such a failure. I have interviews, I always do, but I’m crushed each time I don’t get the job. What’s the matter with me? And why can’t I be like everybody else?

Sometimes it feels like everybody has a life but me. I’ve started to keep away from facebook because all I see are people with lives, jobs, houses, boyfriends, husbands, girlfriends, children… They have it all. I carry so much unhappiness inside me and this blog, that’s what I have to show for my life.

Today after I left the Jobcentre I was miserable. Putting my earphones in, I skipped every song on my iPod searching for something that matched my mood and settled on John Lennon’s Working Class Hero. It was when the song started to play and I waited to cross the road that a hearse stopped right in front of me. Gazing through the glass at the resting coffin my mind began to run away from me and I knew right then there was a fine line between life and death. There have been times when my toes have crept over the blurred line, but I always fought to drag myself back to a place where I could sit and collect my thoughts until I was brave enough to stand on my own two feet again.

It’s ironic the sight of a coffin shifts my mood from quiet despair to hope. There will be a glimmer of hope in the sky tonight, a little twinkle of a star when the moon is out and it has my name on it. I have put all my energy into hoping my life will improve and I pray it’s not misplaced because I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired, so exhausted of having to fight to be happy. But I’ll keep fighting because that’s all I have and I’m not ready to give up just yet.

I think back to the hearse as it drove away from me and there were flowers in the back, pale, pretty flowers depicting a fisherman and it makes me smile sadly. There will be another family mourning a loved one this Christmas and that always depresses me.

If I died, I wonder what my own family would litter my coffin with? Probably purple and black wreaths, vodka bottles made up of flowers and I’d like to think they’d each write a letter to me. I won’t be holding my breath though…

I’m still incredibly tired and I’ve been fighting the urge not to drink all day. There is this feeling deep down inside my gut and my god, I want to get a little drunk. Only a little so I can sleep tonight. I’m unsure whether that’s my mind trying to find an excuse for me to drink. I’ll try not to listen to the drunken devil on my shoulder and stay away from the bottle today. It will only complicate matters and I need to find another way to cope. I’m still hoping posting on here will lift my spirits a little or at least the weight off my shoulders.

I guess that’s all I have to say for the moment,

– Raindrops