I lost it on Wednesday. Utterly and completely lost it. Multiple times. I was already on edge because I had an interview Wednesday afternoon and I hate interviews, although to be fair, who doesn’t? But with my charming bpd tendency to see rejection in everything, it was always going to be that little bit more challenging. Then, with spectacularly poor timing, Wednesday morning a fairly minor mistake I had made came to light, but of course seeing as my interview was that day, in my mind it immediately became the Most Catastrophic Mistake That has Ever Been Made in the History of Time, Ever. Thanks bpd. I pretty much decided there was no way I could go through with the interview, escaped from the office, hid in the car, and had a total meltdown. Poor Hubby bore the brunt of it and found himself on the receiving end of a hysterical and most likely incoherent phone call. Fair dues to him, he talked me down (eventually) and persuaded me to go through with the interview, reminding me how much guilt and regret I would feel if I didn’t, on top of the guilt I already felt for the World’s Worst Mistake. He was right of course, so I got myself back together and went back to work.
The interview went ok as interviews go. I was incredibly nervous and no doubt spoke too fast, but I managed to answer what was asked and came out feeling reasonably ok if a tad rattled. Then there was a trip to smyths (it was my girl’s birthday yesterday) which can be traumatic at the best of times, before heading back to pick up Hubby and go home. As soon as I got into the car I was on the defensive. I had managed to convince myself that I wasn’t going to get the job (which shows quite remarkable foresight actually, because I didn’t) and my mood was going progressively downhill, although I wasn’t actually aware of it at the time. In fact, from where I was, it was Hubby who was in bad form. It’s more likely he was tired, stressed, and a bit apprehensive of how I was going to be after the heightened emotion of early, but I couldn’t see that. It got worse once we got home, and eventually I had to take myself out for a walk so I headed for the lake. I cried pretty much the entire way there (I was walking. I passed LOTS of people). Then I sat down by the lake for 20 minutes, and this time it was my poor Dad who was on the receiving end of the hysterical phone call. I managed to get myself home, still crying, and got the kids to bed.
Cue meltdown number three, or possibly number two part two, and this one was the doozie. This was the one which led me to question EVERYTHING, up to and including my marriage and ability to be a mother. I was gone so far to the bad place I quite literally couldn’t see sense, I just couldn’t. Hubby was stellar. I tried so hard to avoid the conversation, but he pushed it, because he knew I had to get it out of my system or it would have gotten worse and worse. The massive sense of loss I felt a few weeks ago over Therapist was back with a bang, and being amplified by all the other extremes of emotion that were going on. On top of all of this was sheer exhaustion – I was at the end of 24 hours of incredibly heightened emotion, and that always leaves me utterly drained.
I would imagine I scared him. I scared myself. Thoughts of not being worthy of anything, family would be better off without me, I don’t want to be here etc etc, they were all back with force and roaring around my head. It was horrendous. By the time we were finished talking, or rather, he finished talking while I tried not to disconnect entirely, I just about had the wherewithal to get myself to bed, where I proceeded to cry some more.
Thankfully I slept/passed out, or at least I did until the kids decided they needed to sleep on my head again, and yesterday was a bit better, although I was still beyond tired. As soon as I got to work I found out I didn’t get the job which threatened to set me off again, but meeting a friend for tea helped. Today? Today I’m calmer, although still incredibly tired (the kids needed by head pillow again last night). I’m really taken aback at just how much this week took out of me, and how extreme my reaction was. It’s the first time I’ve come up against something really challenging since finishing with Therapist, so I guess that was always going to make it that bit harder. But the extent and speed at which I lost perspective scared me. I’ve been doing so well the last couple of weeks that I think I was starting to believe attacks like that were a thing of the past. Clearly they’re not.
As I write this there are a million and one things I could be doing, not least of which is picking up my kids. But I needed to get this out, and I needed to try and figure out how to manage the next few days until I can get myself back on more stable ground. Best plan I can come up with is go right back to basics. Bed early, hang out with my kiddos, and try not to put pressure on myself to get stuff done (like clean the house/bath the dogs who are no longer white/walk the dogs and completely undo the bathing efforts/do the shopping etc etc etc). Hubby has been awesome, my folks have been awesome. The virtual support I’ve had over on facebook has been awesome. I know I’ll be ok, I’m just a little shook.