Today is a bad day. A really bad day. I finally built up the courage to go talk to a GP about my mental health. It was a hard decision to make and harder to accept the fact that I have to concede to the fact I’m not coping well. I’m not sure if it’s the lack of sleep. Dealing with Patrick or my Grandads death but since October I’ve not felt like myself. In fact I’ve not felt much of anything. I just feel hopeless and I can’t seem to shake the feeling. I’m having more and more panick attacks and life in general just seems too hard. The doctor I saw today made me feel humiliated. I walked out crying and couldn’t stop until I rang my mum and she reassured me to keep pursuing help. After exposing how hard life is at home with Patrick and how I feel this doctor said to me ‘stop over thinking things and worrying. Start enjoying your life. If your husbands not home make your older children look after your younger son.’ I felt like even more of a failure. Like I’d just wasted everyone’s time and that I was just being stupid. Luckily my mum, my sister and good friends reassured me this doctor was wrong and I’ve made a new appointment at a different clinic to try again because somethings is not right and as the saying goes. You can’t pour from an empty cup. So I’ve cancelled some appointments I had today regarding Patrick’s therapy and gone to the shops to buy some Christmas lights and try to take my mind off of everything. Tomorrow I will try again and hopefully someone will listen because asking for help is fucking hard.