It has been a tough few weeks. Despite a perfectly lovely Christmas and New Year, I have been drowning in feelings of panic, dread and overwhelm. I took myself to bed for most of last weekend and started a dangerous trend of cancelling plans.

It all came to a head when a nurse asked how I was. In floods of tears, I accepted her gentle suggestion to see the GP.

There is a huge amount of guilt in admitting this. I’ve got really lovely friends and family, I don’t have to work and my health is stable. And yet.

I’ve been dreading everything. There was a lull when school started and I liked the routine. There were magical moments celebrating Christmas that I should have savoured, but couldn’t without alcohol. I’ve been completely unable to really enjoy any of the truly wonderful experiences I’ve been lucky enough to partake in.

I started CBT last year which advised allocated worry time. This helped at first but mainly unleashed a torrent of worry, not helped by the therapist quitting. I’m now back waiting for the psychologist and crying in quiet five minutes between jobs.

Does the dishwasher need emptying? Have I folded the washing? Will the girls get to school on time? Frankly, who cares? But I need somehow to switch off the sinking feeling and start enjoying the wonderful days I have.

What’s the point of this post? Pity? Attention? I guess I am hopeful that we can all have the courage to ask how someone is, and to ourselves give an honest answer.

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