I’m feeling a lot better, plague-wise, today and have dragged myself back to work. Although a tornado of chaos seems to have taken advantage of my brief absence. Or maybe the fact that my workload was already teetering on the brink of disaster meant that one day away was the straw which broke the camels back. Panic does concentrate the mind wonderfully – so I’ve had an ok day in terms of negative thoughts and got a lot done in da office!
I’m hoping the rest of the evening carries on in the same vein. (I know I’ve got a fair few things to do at home as well… busy busy busy).
Only negative point was a bit of a row with The Partner. I’ve been very irritable lately (which I think is a combination of lack of food/general moodiness or depression) and it resulted in shouting/meanness/things-best-unsaid-being-said. *Oops*. Anyway he wanted to know “what on earth was so wrong at the moment”. I tried to tell him. I really did. I find it so hard to talk to him about mental health issues. He knew about the relapse with depression (although he thinks taking antidepressants is a stupid idea). He doesn’t know that burning my arm just before Christmas was deliberate. And he doesn’t know that I’ve been purging/restricting since last November (he thinks that it’s a “normal diet”). It was on the tip of my tongue. But I was so scared it would make the argument worse. I just know that he won’t know how to feel if I tell him and he’ll probably deal with the confusion by shouting/feeling angry – I don’t think the anger will be necessarily directed at me… but shouting/anger is something I can’t deal with. We’ve both calmed down now and forgiven/mostly forgotten. I will try to tell him at some point – though, the middle of an argument isn’t the right time. Maybe telling my GP will make it easier to talk to other people about this.
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