In the rabbit hole

Sunday 12th January 2020 (6.43pm)

I always know when I have fallen down the rabbit hole due to the way I change within myself. My thoughts over the last few days have been scary as I have looked at ways to self harm, destruct and completely destroy myself. Left in a chasm of depression, the pills at times have looked like an easy way out. I know the trigger. It will pass, but as and when I don’t know. 

I am on the run, physically and metaphorically. Over the last week I have immersed myself in exercise and all I want to do at the moment is run, clock up the miles, clock up the time  and just go. I cannot sit still. I am agitated. I cannot stop. I have not run today. Other priorities. I cannot go now. Tomorrow morning I am planning a long run. I need to go. I need to get out. Fed up.

I looked to escape this weekend. I looked to get away. I almost left Olly with his minder and jumped on a train to London; however, I knew that I wanted him with me so I researched options of dog friendly places to stay. We almost ended up somewhere but escaping would have not helped my situation. I had planned to run with friends over the weekend and I did not want to miss out on this. I met with my mental health worker on Friday, we both knew that time away alone in strange place would not have helped. 

My therapist who I am seeing on Tuesday will be interested in the fact that yet again I want to escape. What am I escaping / running from all of the time? Life. Am I happy? No. Do I want out of this situation? Yes.

I have not done the things that I usually find comfort in (apart from running and spending time with Olly). I am not going out (apart from running and Olly walks). I have no motivation. I sit at home. Alone in my thoughts. I do not want to eat meals. I have no appetite. I just want chocolate. I read a lot. I have other work to do. I sit here. Thinking.  Daytime TV. This afternoon I learnt that an Indian takeaway has the same amount of fat as 89 mini cocktail sausages. 

Fact.