I’m tired and run down. That’s my excuse and I’m sticking to it!
I have yet another bug of some kind that my body is having to put all its energy into fighting, sore ears, sore throat, aching all over and generally feeling shit…oh and a slight temperature fluctuation that shows no pattern.
I have a slight obsession whenever I’m ill. Out comes the thermometer (a fancy digital one) and I take my temperature. If it was just once or twice I wouldn’t feel so silly but…well it’s a couple of times an hour if I’m holding myself back. If I panic and see it rise then that increases to ever 10 minutes or so watching it move up and down and trying to find an explanation.
The next few days are going to be hell, last night I had to go into work anyway even though I felt so shit because the cut off for ringing in sick had been and gone by the time I woke up and realised I shouldn’t really go into work. Tomorrow I will have to go in again as I have to do a task that can not be put off any longer…
…then another two days of shifts after that. I will be working twice as many hours as I should be over these 7 days and I will struggle.
I have started looking for another job, I just updated and uploaded my CV onto a web site after a short walk with Toby. As I was walking around the block with him it was running through my mind about how shit I feel. Thinking about what would happen if I asked my manager to make sure that I don’t work over my hours, that I don’t go over my contracted monthly hours unless she asks me to (next month I’m going to be over again and that’s without me agreeing to overtime).
While I was running this through my head, I knew it would annoy her, would vex her as she has to try and keep the hours of care in our service up. I could see her grimace and sense her annoyance in my head…I’ve had to do this so many times before and it’s always the same but unlike in real life or even in my own head usually at the end of my request and her becoming grumpy my inner self blurted out ‘I quit’.
‘I quit’ two words I’ve never uttered but seem so tempting right now.
When I got home I turned my laptop on and went straight to searching job websites.
Either I find another job that isn’t so stressful or I ask them to transfer my contract from a part time worker to a supply worker, only to be used as necessary but with no obligation to work contracted hours. I once mentioned this and was told it wasn’t possible though I can’t remember why.
I hate not working, it drives me slightly more bonkers than I already am, makes my agoraphobia take over and I end up living at the bottom of the pit with very little to bring me back out of it. But since this year has shown a lowering of my mood to the point where I’ve given in and gone back on antidepressants because I heard the little voices telling me to end it all again. It’s made me have more pain, more fatigue, more anxiety, more little niggling annoyances than ever before….I can’t help thinking that it might be better if I wasn’t working.
I had a phone consultation with my GP about my meds the other day and he asked how I was doing…I told him the truth but it wasn’t exactly in depth. ‘Not great’ doesn’t exactly tell him a lot but was all I felt up to saying. If I had been telling the utter unvarnished truth….it would have sounded more like
‘I’m crap, my world has gone dark, the light at the end of the tunnel is dimming and the voices are speaking to me telling me how useless it is to keep fighting. I almost wish my feeling of being watched really was true sometimes so that whoever is watching could see the pain I am in and how I struggle to do the most basic tasks, then I could apply for sickness again and not have to go through the trauma that is their assessment. I can’t keep it up, my mask is slipping, the walls that allow me to function as normal are beginning to crash around my ears.’
I have to organise a face-to-face consultation soon anyway and I might try to say something like that to them but….I can never make myself in the seven and a half minutes you are allotted for the appointment.
The black armies are marching
the ground that is my mind
They sing in harmony
echoing in my ears
Bringing with them
instruments of torture
tools to destroy