Today started out not too bad. The plan was for T to work at home but be unavailable in the dining room, even with music on his headphones so that I was on my own, but he was there if absolutely needed.
I got myself some breakfast and although I didn't feel at all ready I squared up for the day and made myself dive in and cope. Angel was being well behaved enough and I took it slow as usual getting ready for the day. I was on edge with things like her eating and in some ways felt better when she was because I knew that there was more of a chance that she wouldn't be eating if she felt unwell. Still I watched her overly closely and I kept washing things, cleaning our hands and using hand gel. I knew I was probably being too over the top but the OCD said that I wasn't being thorough enough.
I ended up getting our bags ready and talking myself into taking Angel for a walk to the post box, trying to convince myself that I would be okay, that if I felt okay in that moment then I would most likely be okay in the next too. I made myself lock the door as if I would have to if I was alone and I took a sip of my drink and walked to the end of the road. I kept going and walked up to the postbox, feeling very on edge and my tummy was feeling very sensitive. I could have come back home then but I pushed myself on, through Daisy Park and then along the main road which almost had me hyperventilating and I had to work hard to control my panic and my breathing. I then cut through some very quiet roads that we hadn't been down before but then found myself next to two vans with people working outside a row of houses and no choice but to go past them one way or another. I dug my nails in and breathed very shallowly, clenched my teeth and tried to keep myself under control. Once I was past them I sped up and made quick work of crossing the road and getting home, I knew it was panic and as soon as I got back I would be okay again but if I thought with a sane mind I wouldn't be where I am now.
Lunch time came around quick and I organised some sausage, cheese melt toasted sandwiches for T and Angel and I had some white bread but found it to be stale and ended up throwing over half of it away and not really making up for it. I managed to have some crisps in the afternoon to settle my tummy and I spent a few hours tidying and cleaning which made me feel better at the time but I was already a wreck by that point, somewhere after lunch my defenses dropped and the pictures got in. I couldn't stop the flashbacks and my imagination and I kept thinking Angel looks pale and ill and keeping a special close eye on her while going through plans in my head of what I would do if she was sick. The afternoon seemed to take ages and as the day has wore on I've become more and more distressed and panicky and my tummy seems to have gotten more and more sensitive. I made baked potatoes for dinner but mine is still sitting in the oven untouched, I had two buttered crackers and a tiny bit of Angel's potato but apart from that and I've just had two biscuits, I'm terrified to eat much else.
Frazzled is a very good description of how I'm feeling right now. My nerves are on a knifes edge and I wish it was my wrists there instead. I wouldn't say that I feel suicidal as such, but I am feeling like I'm tired of this, tired of fighting and having to hold up a facade and be strong. Maybe I need some time to fall, to let go and panic and fret, out of sight of anyone, hidden away. But then again, maybe not.
I'm terrified once again of going to bed tonight because I do not want to face tomorrow.
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