Today we were all meant to be going to the pub straight from work.
I’ve been really looking forward to it. A time to chill and have a proper laugh to counter how busy we’ve been lately.
Instead, it got to my lunch break and I had to come home.
The anxiety meds I’ve been put on just aren’t working and the antidepressants are a long way from kicking in.
I’m spending far too many hours thinking and planning my exit.
I phoned the GP to ask if there was anything I could take to quieten my mind whilst the proper meds work. Yet again the notes promised had not been forwarded to my GP despite being specifically told on the phone last night. They didn’t know what I was taking let alone what could work alongside them.
Their only suggestion is to go back to the original anti-anxiety meds that they’d given me that first week and head to A&E. All that will happen there is I’ll sit back in that room, the room with the guard, only to be told after a few hrs there is nothing they can do. Or they can try to find me a bed in a secure facility.
The waiting list is over 40 long for a bed and the last girl I spoke to had waited in that hard chair day and night for 9 days before getting in.
We decided Jace can keep me safer at home.
I wish my brain wasn’t so broken. This isn’t a place I thought I’d ever be. I’ve been a fighter all my life but I’m now officially running on empty.