badly_knitted (badly_knitted) wrote,
badly_knitted
badly_knitted

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REALLY BAD DAY

As some of you know, on top of physical health problems I also suffer from agoraphobia and panic attacks, I have OCD (usually reasonably under control), and a bunch of phobias. My home has always been my sanctuary, the place I can get away from the world, a safe environment that I have control over.

Except that now it isn't.

Because of mum's stroke, she now needs extra help, which means complete strangers letting themselves in three times a day to help her with a few things. I have been struggling to cope with different people every three days, on top of district nurses, occupational therapists, physiotherapists and speech therapists, trying to remember who I've told what to and trying to keep[ some control over what happens in my own home - not easy, and I've had some issues with one of the carers rinsing mum's dishes (they are apparently authorised to wash any dishes used by the person they care for) and using the floor cloth to wipe them with, which upset me enough. Are people incapable of asking where things are? Even when the dish cloth is in full view? I keep telling everyone to leave the washing up to me, I'm germ phobic and need to know things have been properly washed for my own peace of mind.

Right now I'm extra stressed. The government are trying to send me out to work so I've got an appeal in. I've caught the cough mum picked up in hospital so I'm getting even less sleep that usual because I keep coughing and waking myself up. Misty, my rabbit, is at the vet's, he's had surgery to remove another tooth but it's though he has an inner ear infection, a bladder infection and possiblr heart problems, so I don't know if he's going to live.

So today, one of the carers who we've had before and who I like, decided to do the washing up, without asking, and I freaked. I told her please don't, and she said it was alright so I told her that it wasn't, I thought she knew that I do the dishes myself. I did get her to stop, I tried to explain, only to be told "Don't be so dramatic, go and blow into a paper bag." Yeah, like THAT would help. I've been shaking and crying ever since, I had to start from scratch with the dishes, which I usually wash after lunch so my entire daily routine has been thrown off, my nerves feel like they're stretched to breaking point and I can't settle. I really didn't need that today, and she'll be back tonight and then on duty tomorrow and now I feel like she's looking down on me like I'm some silly, finnicky little drama queen who overreacts. I can't help the way I react, any more than someone with a phobia about wasps can help panicking when one flies near them. Doesn't matter that it's not rational, the panic reaction is instinctive. I feel like my home isn't mine any more and what little control I have over things is being snatched away.

I don't like being the way I am, it's the result of being mis-prescribed tranquilizers and being kept on them for far too long, then being prescribed MORE tranquilizers to treat the problems the first lot caused and being kept on THEM for several years, when now they're recommended to be used for only a couple of weeks. And I STILL have the physical health problems I was originally told were all in my head and that I was given tranquilizers for in the first place.

I just want to shut myself in my room (the only place I feel is still mine) and never come out.
Tags: argh!, real life
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