Breakthrough

This morning I got home from a four-week hospital admission. It was possibly the most significant I’ve had. What started as a containment admission turned into a full medication review, second opinion and complete change in my presentation.

I’m not going to name all the medications, as that would bore you. The big thing is that I’ve come off Seroquel – an anti-psychotic I’ve been on pretty much constantly for the last four years. It’s famous for turning its victims into zombies and for weight gain. Being off this means I’m feeling more emotions; I’m not used to them yet (evidenced by the 3 -5 crying episodes a day) but that should settle down and also improve as my new antidepressant settles in. I’m also more expressive when communicating with people, the nurses were all saying they’d never seen me this way and this is a ward I’ve frequented many times, they know me.

I’m really scared of down time at the moment, things are working faster in my head and I don’t want to be sitting still alone. If you could make some time for me that would be appreciated, I can come to you.

I am worried about this extra activity in my head, and there is more anxiety there for sure, but this could be a very good thing for me.

The Other Side

I’m trapped in this for the next 5 weeks and 2 days.

I’m only 5 days in and I hate it. I don’t know how people cope with casts for broken bones, at least I can take this off and wash my arm and let it breathe if I’m careful not to move my thumb.

I’m thinking of bringing forward my move to Scotland. I’ve had so much trouble finding a house here and I don’t have much to live for, a few friends and a week full of various therapies. My concerns are health care and finances, as I won’t be able to start my little business right away. From the research Mum and I have done it looks like I won’t be without government help though. More phone calls to make yet. As far as mental health care goes the NHS is better than our public system, but having no first hand experience of it I’m a little scared.

This will be my first week back at art therapy since the public holidays, also my first with the splint on. I don’t know what I’m going to make with only my left hand, but I’ll give it a try.

Good Friday, Feeling Bad

Seven people read today's post, on top of how I was feeling I've not got attention seeking and disappointment to keep them company.
They had people going up the front for prayer at church tonight both during and after the service. I very nearly went up to ask for God to kill me promptly, but decided that would be letting the attention seeking / manipulative part of my diagnosis out for a play. So instead I left and drove the hour home feeling like shit.

Here are some photos of my magazine I took today with the girl in them this time.

Long Live K

I don’t have a happy post today, they’re so rare an occurrence that you should know not to come here for a dose of joy.

I had a little admission from 3/4 – 7/4 due to strong, impulsive suicidal urges. That also included a trip to the Alfred, but I left before being seen by a Dr.

A woman I met through Gumtree and I have been looking for houses. We went to an inspection on Tuesday and applied, even offered more because there were around 50 other people there. We were told yesterday that we were unsuccessful. The house was the best I’ve seen and in a very good location – I would have been able to walk to things, I’ve never lived in a good walking location. There are other houses out there yes, but I’ve been looking for 16 months, it’s about time something went right.

My psychiatrist has asked to see my school reports between the ages of 5 – 10, he’s assessing me for ADHA. I read through not just those ones, but all of my school years last night and I found it very disheartening. I only remember being woefully bad at science and maths, but according to my reports it was everything except drama and sometimes music and English. Some of the teachers’ comments were venomous and lacked even a hint of encouragement. Things took a dive when I moved schools at the end of grade 5. I don’t know if the new school spent more time on reports and the old one just said everyone is wonderful, or if in the space of one Summer holiday I forgot how to do everything I’d been taught to the extent of having most of the highest boxes ticked to the mediocre – lowest.  People often tell me I’m smart and I correct them or try to pretend they didn’t say it. It’s something I love to hear, but I can’t believe it because of my results in school. How can you be smart when you struggled with all but one subject in school, when you only got into uni by audition and only excelled in the core subjects? I am what I hate, mediocrity, or even worse idiocy and laziness.

I don’t want to do this anymore. I wish I wasn’t afraid to finish it. I could; I still have my medication stockpile from last year’s planning. But I’m a mediocre, lazy, stupid coward and I’m going to live in boredom and pain until I’m 97.

Recent Art

The diet is going well. I added some extra things so I wouldn't rebel in hunger and have a big binge session, over a kg down since Wednesday.

Things in my head are bad at the moment, not helped by things in my body being sore and troublesome. Judging by the poor numbers this blog gets no one wants to hear me complain, since that's mostly what I do here so I'll omit the details.

Look, some art!

 This is Girl. Girl is supposed to feature in all of the pages I work on in the magazine - I forgot to take her with me on Friday so she missed the photo shoot. I'll fix that this week.

This one is a few weeks old, I did it as an impatient and then smeared paint all over the page with the kettle. The page with the kettle flips up to reveal the image below.

I consider the main two pages below to be finished, but I'll work on the red page, maybe just get rid of the advertising, I like the rest. I'm not sure where Girl goes here.

Missing the girl. I know where to put her though.

Painting from two weeks ago just using up left over paint from another work and then added the white and bird, which is cut out from a piece of fabric lying around.

Anger and Eating

There was a paragraph here but it seemed likely to piss people off, so instead I’ll say I’m angry, very angry.

I had Lithium toxicity this week due to an idiot GP (not my usual) telling me to use Voltaren despite me informing her and him (she did a secondary consult) that I’m on lithium and can’t use anti-inflammatories. The GP that Nurse on Call put me through to told me to stop the Voltaren and it should be ok since it was only two days in. This adds another thing to my anger list – two GPs and a pharmacist getting it wrong. I saw psychiatrist tonight and he said Lithium toxicity explains a few of the problems I’ve been having in the last week.

I dropped another kilo the day after my last post and it’s all stayed off but stagnated since then. I can’t do dieting right it’s only ever in extremes so today I’ve enjoyed food before tomorrow becomes only fruit and raw or steamed vegetables. Purging is easier but my medication intervals are too close together now. I’m not sure I’ve ever mentioned food issues on here, it’s just another fun thing to deal with.

Ten Days Out

I’m a little sad to be returning to Blogspot; Wordpress is so much better for the readers, but it’s a bitch to use and has put me off blogging; thus I return.

For posts between 6/1/14 and today go to onereclusivegirl.wordpress.com

I’ve been home from hospital for 10 days, during which time I’ve lost 4 of the 10 kilos I gained during my admission. I’ve achieved the weight-loss by doing nothing more radical than two swims and not eating such vast amounts. I’ve got a long way to go, I was big before admission, now I’m huge. I have a pouch to rival the most experienced mother kangaroo.

My body has been sore since discharge, I’m assuming it’s a result of 6 weeks of inactivity. My left hand is very swollen and my right foot doesn’t seem to remember the concept of walking. I’m not allowed to take anti-inflammatories whilst on Lithium and Panadol and Panadeine do nothing at all. To top it off I dropped my car bonnet on my arm twice (don’t ask) on Sunday, giving me two large bruises.

I started out patient art therapy last week, it goes for 5 hours rather than the 1.5 we get in hospital and it was great. My other therapy group was not so great, that’s a full day on a Wednesday and I left early and really don’t want to go tomorrow. It’s supposed to be informative, but instead most of the day is spent listening to fellow group members complain, at its worst you might get half an hour about someone’s dog being sick and that making them stressed. I know people need to talk about what’s going on but it’s not the right forum and the psychologists leading it do nothing to discourage it and kind of fuel it.

Abrupt ending, I don’t know what else to write and my hand hurts.