Dream Donors

MemoriesByFionchadd

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I would like to curl up into a little ball and not venture out of bed until things look brighter.

I can’t go in to work. I got up, went down to the bathroom and just stood there. Every time I tried to get into the shower it was like there was this weight pushing down on me. I kept trying and kept getting more and more panicked. I thought calling in sick would make me feel better but now I’m just sitting here with all these thoughts going round my head. What makes me think I’ll feel any better on Monday? What if I can’t ever go back to work? I feel bad calling in sick when it’s the job itself that’s making me unable to work, but on the other hand I don’t even know if it is anymore. This thing seems to be feeding itself. It can’t all be about the job, can it? A lot of people don’t like their job. I’m seeing the doctor at 11. The psychotherapist I saw on wednesday wants me to up my dose of citalopram to 60mg. It feels like an awful lot. But when I’m still feeling like this on 40mg, maybe it’s the right thing. Will an extra 20mg really make any difference? I just don’t know what’s going on anymore. I don’t know how I became this person. I want it to stop.

I can’t go in to work. I got up, went down to the bathroom and just stood there. Every time I tried to get into the shower it was like there was this weight pushing down on me. I kept trying and kept getting more and more panicked. I thought calling in sick would make me feel better but now I’m just sitting here with all these thoughts going round my head. What makes me think I’ll feel any better on Monday? What if I can’t ever go back to work? I feel bad calling in sick when it’s the job itself that’s making me unable to work, but on the other hand I don’t even know if it is anymore. This thing seems to be feeding itself. It can’t all be about the job, can it? A lot of people don’t like their job. I’m seeing the doctor at 11. The psychotherapist I saw on wednesday wants me to up my dose of citalopram to 60mg. It feels like an awful lot. But when I’m still feeling like this on 40mg, maybe it’s the right thing. Will an extra 20mg really make any difference? I just don’t know what’s going on anymore. I don’t know how I became this person. I want it to stop.

“My notes here say that you had a crisis earlier this year”

“That’s right”

“What happened?” He doesn’t really sound interested. He sounds caring, as you have to be in his profession, but underneath that he sounds tired, over worked, under the weather.

“I took paracetamol”

“How many?”

“90” I say without missing a beat.

He blinks. “90?”

“Yes”

“Had you been drinking?”

“No”

Another blink. “You took 90 paracetamol whilst sober?”

“That’s right”

“You must have been feeling ghastly”

I liked that, the word ‘ghastly’. That wasn’t jargon, or text-book speak. That was the instinctive reaction of a human being to my situation, totally unprepared and uncensored.

10 minutes later I was out of there with a promise that not only would I be put on a waiting list, but he would do everything he can to ensure that I was seen as soon as possible.

I had very vivid dreams last night. I had my first Glastonbury dream of the season, which was unsurprising, but earlier than expected. And I  had a dream about a guy who I was friends with, but who completely ditched me recently. In the dream, everything was fine. We were getting on as we used to, talking and laughing and drinking and it was a lot of fun. I remember thinking “I’m glad we’re friends again”. Then I remember thinking “No, I’m dreaming this. This isn’t real.” Normally, I can’t voice that in dreams, but I was able to go up to him and say “This is a dream, isn’t it”. He just turned and walked away.

I feel like shit this morning.