I’m really finding everything hard. I was struggling with anxiety and low mood anyway and then I took a new job. I knew the job would be challenging but I’ve had very little support and no training and now I am trying to help people who are also depressed and anxious. It’s an nhs job and I spend my time on the phone listening to people crying and then I go and see them and it’s more of the same. I work 8.30 - 3.30 and then I get my kids and there’s no break in between. I don’t take lunch so that I can get my dc at 3.30 and they don’t have to spend long in wrap around.
Then I’m into the evening and sorting my dc and I usually end up working an hour or so too finishing things off. Dc aren’t in bed until about 9.30 and I’m up at 6am so it feels a long day and I’m shattered.
My parents are miserable. My mother told me this week that she wishes we’d all died of covid because she can’t see any bright spots on the horizon.
Things with DH are not good. He doesn’t help with anything in the house or with the dc even though I’ve asked him, everything falls on me. He thinks things are great seemingly. Meanwhile I’ve stopped eating or sleeping again and feel dreadful. I’ve almost hit crisis point twice in the past twelve months.
Moreover what my job has taught me is that there is NO help for you if you are mentally ill. The threshold for getting help is basically a suicide attempt and even then you aren’t likely to get much. There’s no resource and the gps are at a loss.
Something is going to have to give and I’m starting to feel like it’s going to be me.
At the weekends DH plays golf all Saturday and then Sunday has a lie in. We might have an afternoon together. I’ve lost touch with nearly all my friends over pandemic and now I’m too tired and have no time anyway.
Life is one long relentless grind and I’m starting to feel like my mother is right.