More Appointments Than a 90 Year-Old

This coming week is almost full with appointments:

Monday:

Prahran: Psychiatrist – not my own - he’s away – but this one is very good.

Tuesday:

Williamstown: Osteopath for my back. I was seeing a physiotherapist but I reached my ($700) annual limit on my insurance. My physio said osteopathy would be the next best thing for it and it falls under a separate category in my insurance, so all is well. The osteopath does fantastic massages, really gets in there and I think the one manipulation she does helps too, but I don’t like her interest in the rest of my health problems and the spiritual side of things. She seems to think that osteopathy can fix it all. It can’t.

Hoppers Crossing: Weekly medication pick-up

Wednesday:

Prahran: Therapy group from 10-3

Box Hill: Not an appointment, but something I’ll be doing. Swimming from 4 – 5

Surrey Hills: Psychology from 6 – 7

Thursday:

Blackburn: GP: 3:30

Friday:

Box Hill: Hand surgeon 10:40

And this is why I need to be living on the other side of the city to where I currently am. Also I only have one friend on this side which sucks for getting out and doing things that aren’t medically related.

Depression and Anxiety Together Bringing You One Fine Week

I feel like after naming my last post Breakthrough and rhapsodising about what it is to feel again that this should be a positive post. But since a record 32 people read that post, and I’ll probably just get my usual 7 today I think I’ll just tell the truth.

I have been fighting anxiety off like a flock of hungry birds and all I have are some sticks made of benzodiazepines. My psychiatrist just gave me some stronger ones but I have to take them sparingly. In the last few days the depression has been getting stronger too, it’s the staying in bed, not being able to move, ignoring the world kind. I’m not going to church tonight even though that’s exactly what I need, I just can’t put myself up to the hour drive and the pretending once I get there. I need my friends to come to me (Thanks L), to sit with me in my PJs and drink tea.

I do a very good job of pretending. I went out yesterday and I felt genuinely good during some one on one time with my friend B.H but then the group part got too much and I had to put on pretending hat and I left before the second part of the evening began.

I woke at 11 this morning, made a coffee and returned to bed where I read until 2, that was nice. I want to go back but I’ll save it for tomorrow when Mum’s at work and I can stay there all day without question.

My Psychiatrist is going away, I’m not seeing him again until the 11^th of July. He’s made other arrangements for me, but I’m still quite scared. I’ll be looked after if I come crashing down, just not by him.

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.