Blue Monday

I'm not writing too much about yesterday because I would prefer to forget it. I spent the whole day anxious, with my other talking about if I had taken the wrong direction in life – maybe I should become a climate change scientist (?). I really said that. I think the meds are getting to me somewhat.

I ate a bad chicken dish my mum made and took the train back to London where I stood up for the whole journey. Inside I was freaking out and derealising, depersonalising... I just want to forget that experience. It was horrible. I kept telling myself I'll go home and wrap myself in a duvet and go to sleep and pretend this is a bad dream.

I put on the Bitch in Apt 23 and some pyjamas, then put the duvet on the sofa and went in and out of sleep. My manager called me yesterday and I said I would take the week off (she says she feels bad), so I felt no pressure to go in – just rest. I was falling in and out of sleep all night. When I would wake up, I would put on more Bitch, and go back to sleep again.

I woke up and it was very sunny, quite fresh. But then I felt it. I didn't want to get out of bed. I thought - that's it, I've hit the wall. Psychological meltdown. I put on the Carmen Sandiego cartoon series on Netflix and again, napped in and out of consciousness.

I had the appointment with the counsellor at the Trafalgar clinic at 12, so I took an Uber and got there on time. Carole was a frail looking South African woman in her 70s with blonde hair. She guided me to a counselling room and we sat down.

"Winnie referred you," she said

I began to cry.

I poured out about my panic attacks, the meds making my head spin... I don't know how I let it get so bad, I said. And how it may actually be a long suffering problem. The fact I have anxiety about catching HIV every time I have sex, or the anxiety I had as a child about going to school. There is a huge empty space in my life where my social and love life should be and I don't know what to do about it. I don't know how to live.

She looked shocked. Really shocked. And I was panicked.

Fuck. I've lost it. This is serious and the counsellor thinks it's serious so it's serious.

She suggested upping my medication, maybe seeing a psychiatrist for combination drug therapy and, of course, CBT and talking therapy.

This is an urgent case she said.

Omg.

OMG.

How did I let this get so bad? Have I been suffering for my whole adult life and I was just completely unaware?

I walked back home and thought that I need to take time to recover this.

I went to Lidl and bought an egg and cress sandwich and Skyr yoghurt to keep me going. My appetite is pretty much zero at the moment so I'm going to have to just nibble as and when appropriate. I've lost so much weight.

I've more or less been on the sofa since I came back from the appointment, watching Friends and YouTube videos on Shane Dawson and Jeffree Star.

In the past hour, I have looked around at the chronic disorganisation in my flat and I see reflected back at me the continual disorganisation of my life. Maybe I can tackle this.

I searched for the word 'enlightment' on YouTube and it is a video on... Meditation.

Before I had this break, I was meditating every day and trying to be enlightened. It has convinced me that tomorrow I will go for a run and meditate again. I am feeling capable of doing that, and it makes me think that perhaps I am not so broken.

If this is another sign from the universe... Then thank you.