So, after some prompting, I went to see my GP (a locum whom I hadn't met but never mind).
She was a bit gobsmacked at my 'short' version of my woes & complaints but listened kindly and sent me off with a fistful of prescriptions.
And that was that. I will be All Better soon and not complain so much as I will be drugged up & docile, I hope.
It was only after I'd left that I realised she would have been willing to sign me off work if I'd asked.
Damn. Damn. Damn. I could've had a free holiday and spent all day on t'internet.
I find that talking about my awful mother and all the family worries makes them seem even worse. dad-in-law is still with us and his damaged liver seems very slowly to be improving. So naturally I am on permanent red alert for the next crisis and have paroxysms when the phone rings. Yes, we are delighted that stepdaughter #2 is pregnant, but she is bipolar and has lymphodoema (sp?) so we are always a little concerned about her anyway and since she's on greatly reduced meds, what happens if she ends up like Husband's mum with postnatal depression.... Gorgeous young lady. Looks like a model and is a carer for elderly people.
Mother is becoming more difficult all the time and has even snapped at The Husband on the phone. This is unheard of as she is very pleased with him & tells me frequently how blessed I am to have him (after my 2 failed marriages). She forgets that he has 2 failed marriages behind him too... My GP suggested that I contact mum's GP and say I think she's depressed (how would her GP not have noticed this already???). Maybe that would assuage some of the guilt I feel about her.
The Husband seems immune to guilt. He says she's a lonely, nasty old woman who can't show me any love. As ye sow, so shall ye reap, he pronounces. I think he's right but I still cringe at it and make countless phonecalls to her to listen to her complaining about me and my many, many failings.
When my 3 kids and I used to visit my parents in the summer holidays (to escape their vile alcoholic father) they would giggle and make fun of all the (innumerable) Rules while I tried fruitlessly to obey them all even those that directly contradicted each other. They saw it for what it was, but I still can't, despite many, many cognitive behaviour therapy sessions.
Isn't it funny how writing this stuff down seems to help? I will feel better once the increased dosage kicks in: it's just a matter of waiting a little longer.
Glad to have got that off my chest.
Once again, love to my mac family. Head & shoulders above my blood relatives, each & every one of you.
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