Long back-story involving abusive soon to be ex. In essence, I used to be such a world apart from the person I am today. Words that would have been used to describe me up to four years go - a wonderful mother, ambitious, clever, high-achieving, positive, creative, huge sense of humour, happy go lucky, strong and tenacious, switched on, slim, very pretty. Now a shell, if being complimentary, of former self. All the things I had zest for have disappeared. I objectively look like shit (if ever there was evidence of the effects intense stress can cause within 4 years!).
Daily life is now a massive uphill struggle, an overwhelming emotional battle to fight what could become endless tears and usually does once my girls are asleep. Trying my utmost to be the mother I used to be for my two dds (age 4 & 8) and feeling like a massive failure. Acutely aware of my parental short-comings and yet unable to address them. One of my daughters has high functioning autism which is increasingly challenging as a parent wishing to support her in the best way possible but lacking the mental resource and capacity to do in the way I strongly wish to.
I sought help for 'depression' back in Feb. Subsequently diagnosed with bipolar 2. Now on lamotrigine (200mg per day) (since April) and after an initial zen-ish feeling, am now at rock bottom, worse than ever.
My own parents (overseas) are as good as non-existent, unwilling to be even emotionally supportive and ever-judgemental about daily, trivial life-choices I make, all the while claiming their love for me and my children. They've always insisted that I'm crazy to leave stb ex, what a lovely man he is even though I have spelt out the emotional, physical and financial abuse the children and I have endured and still do. They expect a huge amount of what I feel is forced contact - scheduled video WhatsApp calls with the girls who don't even have a proper bond with them and don't enjoy the calls. Ever the dutiful daughter, I go along wit it. I dread all these calls. Even before take-off, I dread flying home to see them. They are over-bearing, high-need and every outing requires massive negotiation - both between my mum and I (with whom I find it much easier to talk to than my dad) and between my mum and dad, who is emotionally and financially abusive in turn, towards my mum.
I have solid local friends. But as lovely as friends are, you don't want to be 'that' burdensome pain in the backside. Everyone has their own life and I'm very mindful of being in need of more than even the best friends can provide. So I kind of muddle along really and disclose stuff and feel like a loser.
My solace is exercise. I love running and Pilates. To my shame, I've gained (and lost and re-gained) 19 kilos in the space of 3 years. I've recently lost 11 kilos with 9 remaining before I reach my former size 8 figure. But in SW London, it's all about being skinny. All my friends are all obsessed with weight. Even the heavier set of the group compliments the others about how petite / skinny they look - one posts WhatsApp pics of her with her hipbones sticking out which I find distasteful but don't want to appear bitchy for pointing out - and i constantly feel like the big fatty and never receive one word of encouragement for such a huge weight-loss. Luckily I'm not predisposed to any eating disorders. But seeing those pics makes me feel so unattractive. And I'm the only one in the group who is about to become single. Until 4 years ago, I was one of the slim girls but feel like everyone in my friendship group perceives me as the pitiful fat girl whose life is a massive fuck-up. Which it is, to be fair.
I'm not myself. I'm being snappy and shouty with my girls. I'm hugely falling short of the mother
I've been offered a