 |
| We need each other. |
When I reread yesterday's post this morning I was quite upset by it but I pushed the feeling aside, the thinking about Sunday and the risks I took. About the madness and mania that the high dose of Concerta created and that I stupidly, yet desperately, tried to make go away with Xanax.
This morning I pushed the fear of what could have been aside so I could get on with today. Just as on Sunday, I pushed through brain mush to get on with that day.
As a mum, a sole parent, I've got to push through. I can't just say, Noo, I've got to go sleep this shit off, you sort yourself out for the day. There's no dad/husband/partner to ask to take over the load while I wait the damn rollercoaster out. I just try to fake it til I make it. To use a cliché.
When my sister came over this morning I declared myself much better. I had stupidly got on the scales though and was very unhappy about what I saw: 86.6kg. That's basically a 1kg increase every week for the last four weeks. I've only been on the Concerta for about five weeks now... I wonder if there is a link. Most people lose weight on it, but not me. I never get the weight loss side effect from drugs and I never get it from illness.
I was still going over in my head last night's post:
"I probably shouldn't have been driving the car on Sunday but I was fine, we didn't have any accidents but I was a mess. My motor skills were just normal but my heart was beating so fast and I was so paranoid that something really fucking bad was going to happen but I knew it wouldn't because I knew it was just the stupid Concerta but still that physically sick feeling I get with anxiety wouldn't go away."Then when Yo told me this morning how whacked out I looked when Noo and I got to her place on Sunday, I couldn't hide any more. I was fucked up. At the time I felt I was fully under control. I felt I had to be. Push through. Push through. Go through the motions. Keep moving. It will pass. But I was driving a car. With my baby on board. Affected by drugs. There's no other way to look at it.
Fuck.
I think I must have been in denial Monday night. Fear of your disgust. Fear of my own. Never again. I should have... If only I'd...
Anyway.
Shoulda, woulda, coulda. I didn't. It is done.
V.
