Like a lot of people with mental health problems, I lean towards isolation. The energy it requires to put on a good 'public' face is just sometimes a little too much. I also am not much of a "group" person. One on one, I do ok, but too many people, I can get anxious and overwhelmed. But I am doing reasonably well at the moment, and really trying to be proactive from a recovery standpoint. (M), my Case Manager took me to visit a Mental Health house with a Peer Support slant last year, when she first started seeing me, but it was just not the right time for me. But, (with further gentle encouragement from M) today I went along to one of the group sessions, to see how I went. And it went suprisingly well. The group was quite small, and they were very welcoming without being pushy. Just "glad you came, hope we see you back again". There are a variety of interesting groups including Art, Music, Women's and Under 30's. And it was not as I had feared (and experienced when I tried one of these places in a different city many years ago) all centred around talking about illness, or worse, competing to see "who had it worst". The focus seems to be about providing social opportunities to those of us who struggle with it, something that gets you out of the house, particularly when all your sane friends are working 9-5. Providing support that is Peer support, from people who have a lived experience of mental illness, and outside the medical framework. Which is a real attraction for me... as I feel like I spend most of my life in either a Doctor's or a Therapists office. A real chance to meet people of similar age and experience, who will accept you as you are at that moment in time. Time will see if the experience continues as well as it did today I guess. I particularly liked when one of the PS workers was talking to me about how they didn't focus on diagnosis, as that didn't define the person, their day to day experiences and general personality were more important. It wasn't denying the impact of the mental illness, but rather looking at it in a broader sense.
I'm quite proud of myself for actually going. The support I recieve through blogging is great, but to be able to get some of that IRL would be good too. And as much as I love ya'all, we can't sit down for a coffee, ciggie and a chat, ya know? So, I guess I kind of achieved two things today...a possible addition of support, socialisation and activity, and a sense of achievement for being able to stepout of my comfort zone and face my fears....
I'm working quite hard on the isolation thing at the moment... taking the opportunity while I feel well to reconnect with friends and increase my volunteer work. My friend (S) and I are going to a Farmers Market tomorrow morning, which I am looking forward too, especially picking up some oh so yummy bannana bread and cheap fresh flowers. The parentals are also coming to stay for the weekend, which means Big Sis will probably be over a lot.... which can create a lot of tension... but I'm going to try not to get drawn into it and just enjoy the time with my mum.
In other news, I am on the third day of my Serepax tapering down. We've just removed the midday dose at this time, but I guess its going well. Mostly it's just a physical anxiety in the afternoons, not really worrying about anything mentally, but the body is responding like I am. Trying to use a combination of relaxation techniques and distractions, reminding myself that its my body's reaction to the medicatio withdrawal and will pass, rather than 'true anxiety'. I've found bubble gum and blowing gum bubbles is a handy trick for redirecting the physical frenetic energy when I am stuck in a place where I can't move about, or when I am trying to concentrate on TV or something.
Peace and Love
xOphelia
Showing posts with label A day in the life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label A day in the life. Show all posts
Friday, August 13, 2010
Saturday, July 31, 2010
Driving under water ain't right!
I discovered today that I don't like tunnels. I mean, I really, really, truly despise tunnels!
See, we ventured over to the northern suburbs today. My lil sis ( also my current housemate), her bf (soon to be my new housemate) and I. Our journey across the river was to look at some of the suburbs to determine where we will be moving to when our lease runs out in a few months.
Now let me say here, I don't actually want to move. I like where we live. I like the freedom I have from me close to a major shopping centre and fantastic public transport into the city. I am comfortable with the people who work with me from the Mental Health district that services the south-eastern suburbs. I like my GP. I like my pharmacist. (When you are on as many medications as I am, and they are dispensed weekly, you develop quite the relationship with your pharmacist!) I can get to my volunteer job easily. I can visit my friends easily. It has become familiar and comfortable and workable. Sigh. But I also like (for the most part) living with Lil sis. I can't afford to live by myself and I would not cope moving into share accomodation with strangers. So, the time has come for compromise. She wants to move in with her bf. He works on the coast. He is prepared to move to the city to live with us, but in order for his work commute to be reasonable that means we need to live on the other side of the city. At first, they wanted to move to one of those "Lifestyle" gated communities, pretty much as far north as you can go and still claim to live in *our city*. You know the places, where they advertise how you'll rollerblade around the fake lake, and take walks every evening... blah blah. As if a physical move suddenly turns you into a fitter, healthier, relaxed, more active person. As if that's all it takes. Problem being, it would take me well over an hour just to get into the city centre.
So we are working on a compromise. Far enough north that bf is closer to work, and can get on the motorway avoiding too much heavy traffic in the morning. But closer to the city and public transport, so that I can stay independent and not totally isolated. It means I will have to move to a different Health District (but maybe by then I'll be discharged from the Mental Health service anyway?), find a new GP/Pharmacist, and getting to work and visiting friends will take a little longer. But it's a pretty fair compromise I guess. I just don't adjust to change very well. Sigh. The good news is that it is actually on the same side of town as my therapist, so if we get somewhere on the right busroute, the travel time there might be reduced.
Now I said we had to venture across the river. Thats not strictly true. Lil Sis had the bright idea that instead of taking the bridge, we should take the new, you-beaut tunnel they have built to bypass the city, that takes you under the river. It was horrible. My skin got clammy, I started hyperventilating, I felt totally trapped. Ugh. They spent a fortune on this tunnel bypass, but hardly anyone uses it, even though they've dropped the toll to try and increase the traffic. And now I know why. It's just not natural, driving under all that water. But lil sis thinks its great, because its cheaper than the bridge and you avoid the traffic. So on the way home we took it again. Ugh! It was not a phobia I was aware of until today, but its easily hit the "Top 5 Things that freak me the fuck out!" list.
See, we ventured over to the northern suburbs today. My lil sis ( also my current housemate), her bf (soon to be my new housemate) and I. Our journey across the river was to look at some of the suburbs to determine where we will be moving to when our lease runs out in a few months.
Now let me say here, I don't actually want to move. I like where we live. I like the freedom I have from me close to a major shopping centre and fantastic public transport into the city. I am comfortable with the people who work with me from the Mental Health district that services the south-eastern suburbs. I like my GP. I like my pharmacist. (When you are on as many medications as I am, and they are dispensed weekly, you develop quite the relationship with your pharmacist!) I can get to my volunteer job easily. I can visit my friends easily. It has become familiar and comfortable and workable. Sigh. But I also like (for the most part) living with Lil sis. I can't afford to live by myself and I would not cope moving into share accomodation with strangers. So, the time has come for compromise. She wants to move in with her bf. He works on the coast. He is prepared to move to the city to live with us, but in order for his work commute to be reasonable that means we need to live on the other side of the city. At first, they wanted to move to one of those "Lifestyle" gated communities, pretty much as far north as you can go and still claim to live in *our city*. You know the places, where they advertise how you'll rollerblade around the fake lake, and take walks every evening... blah blah. As if a physical move suddenly turns you into a fitter, healthier, relaxed, more active person. As if that's all it takes. Problem being, it would take me well over an hour just to get into the city centre.
So we are working on a compromise. Far enough north that bf is closer to work, and can get on the motorway avoiding too much heavy traffic in the morning. But closer to the city and public transport, so that I can stay independent and not totally isolated. It means I will have to move to a different Health District (but maybe by then I'll be discharged from the Mental Health service anyway?), find a new GP/Pharmacist, and getting to work and visiting friends will take a little longer. But it's a pretty fair compromise I guess. I just don't adjust to change very well. Sigh. The good news is that it is actually on the same side of town as my therapist, so if we get somewhere on the right busroute, the travel time there might be reduced.
Now I said we had to venture across the river. Thats not strictly true. Lil Sis had the bright idea that instead of taking the bridge, we should take the new, you-beaut tunnel they have built to bypass the city, that takes you under the river. It was horrible. My skin got clammy, I started hyperventilating, I felt totally trapped. Ugh. They spent a fortune on this tunnel bypass, but hardly anyone uses it, even though they've dropped the toll to try and increase the traffic. And now I know why. It's just not natural, driving under all that water. But lil sis thinks its great, because its cheaper than the bridge and you avoid the traffic. So on the way home we took it again. Ugh! It was not a phobia I was aware of until today, but its easily hit the "Top 5 Things that freak me the fuck out!" list.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
I think therefore I resist....
I am a person of reasonable intelligence. Some have said above average intelligence... I don't really know, there always seems to be people out there that are smarter... but my brain has certainly been a strong part of my identity and day to day functioning.
But is it getting in the way? Certainly, I have always known that I have a tendency to over-intellectualise issues as a way of calming the not so rational world of emotions. And in many ways, that's been a saving grace. I am able to rationalise away when people's actions hurt me, rather than acting out from a purely emotional stance, which enables me to save relationships. I am sometimes able to rationalise away unpleasant feelings or moods if they are making functioning in life difficult. It gives the distance needed to react in ways that are productive rather than destructive, ordered rather than disordered and chaotic, fair and rational rather than unfair and irrational. It's part of the grease on the wheels of civilisation, I feel. To act from the evolved, thinking part of the brain, rather than the animalistic instinctual parts, or the slightly more evolved, yet largely unconcious emotional parts of the brain.
But as an annoying American TV therapist would say..."How's that working for you?" Obviously not so well, (see multiple hospitalisations, bucket loads of medication, and three therapy sessions a week) There are things that can't be held in check by rationality and intellectualisation. I have to admit so much of what goes on in my mind has little to do with that small, evolved, intellectual part. And in order to deal with those uncontainable, unrationalisable little gremlins that are running about, I need to be able to talk about them in therapy in their native language... the language of emotions. I am book smart but my emotional intelligence is lacking, to be sure.
Obviously, this came up in therapy today. And maybe it does have a lot to do with why therapy has stalled a little or to reference my previous post become a little tedious. Because there isn't anywhere to go until I learn to speak from emotions. Ugh. I hate emotions. I often will sit there in session and think, I should be feeling something about this, and underneath it I am, I just often can't access it, or identify what it is. When (D) asks me "I wonder what you might be feeling right now?" and I say "I don't know" I am not being difficult, I just can't quite put my finger on it and name it. And then the one of the two basic feelings that I do see to be able to identify 'panic' and less often 'anger' flood in and override the more subtle emotions... sadness, despair, vulnerability, shame.... an endless list.
I seem to have gotten better at identifying the physical elements of the emotions and with (D)'s help linking them to a named emotion. Sadness sits around the jaw, tight and wound. Shame creates a bodily feeling of disconnection... a rejection of the physical self really. But still there is an inherent disconnect between the naming and basic somatic reactions and any deep understanding of what the emotion actually is.
Looking back at therapy sessions this evening, I have come to realise how much I employ intellectualisation as a defense mechanism. Arguing semantics, being pedantic as a form of deflection, looking for the flaw in each persuasive arguement my therapist makes, much as I used to try and tear apart the opposing teams position in High School debate. Not really caring so much about the position I am taking, but more about negating the position she takes. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Anything to keep her, and more importantly myself away from peering at the primal wounds. And so often I haven't even realised I am doing it.
But what do I do? How do I make myself drop this defence? Recognising it is a good first step, admitting it to (D) and allowing her to call me on it another good step. But beyond that... how do I speak this language I just don't understand? I don't know how to communicate these things. Even this blog post... entirely rational and intellectualised.
Let's give it a try... At the moment I feel... pretty tired (ok, so that's more physical)... hmm, a bit anxious... but my mind immediately jumped to rationalising that as the fact its late at night, which is the worst time for me so I generally feel a bit anxious at this time of night. Ok...why anxious? Nights are a time where I feel vulnerable, like I am open to attack, I feel quite childlike like a little kid terrified of the boogie man in the cupboard, 90% of you knows its not there, but the other 10% can't be that certain. Ashamed, because I am a grown woman who is still afraid of childish things like the dark and the monsters that inhabit it. Fearful... it always sits in the pit of my stomach until dawn breaks or I fall asleep. Sigh. I don't know. Is that the way you do it? Maybe typing them isn't the way to acknowledge the feelings. Maybe I would be best to just lie quietly and let them come, yep thats fear, that's what it feels like, now let it flow on and feel what comes next? Maybe thats one way to start learning this language in a way that's more about understanding then just knowing the words. Does that even make sense?
I am so confused right now... and I really don't know how to start chipping away through this so we can start doing the things we need to be doing in therapy.
Peace and love
xOphelia
But is it getting in the way? Certainly, I have always known that I have a tendency to over-intellectualise issues as a way of calming the not so rational world of emotions. And in many ways, that's been a saving grace. I am able to rationalise away when people's actions hurt me, rather than acting out from a purely emotional stance, which enables me to save relationships. I am sometimes able to rationalise away unpleasant feelings or moods if they are making functioning in life difficult. It gives the distance needed to react in ways that are productive rather than destructive, ordered rather than disordered and chaotic, fair and rational rather than unfair and irrational. It's part of the grease on the wheels of civilisation, I feel. To act from the evolved, thinking part of the brain, rather than the animalistic instinctual parts, or the slightly more evolved, yet largely unconcious emotional parts of the brain.
But as an annoying American TV therapist would say..."How's that working for you?" Obviously not so well, (see multiple hospitalisations, bucket loads of medication, and three therapy sessions a week) There are things that can't be held in check by rationality and intellectualisation. I have to admit so much of what goes on in my mind has little to do with that small, evolved, intellectual part. And in order to deal with those uncontainable, unrationalisable little gremlins that are running about, I need to be able to talk about them in therapy in their native language... the language of emotions. I am book smart but my emotional intelligence is lacking, to be sure.
Obviously, this came up in therapy today. And maybe it does have a lot to do with why therapy has stalled a little or to reference my previous post become a little tedious. Because there isn't anywhere to go until I learn to speak from emotions. Ugh. I hate emotions. I often will sit there in session and think, I should be feeling something about this, and underneath it I am, I just often can't access it, or identify what it is. When (D) asks me "I wonder what you might be feeling right now?" and I say "I don't know" I am not being difficult, I just can't quite put my finger on it and name it. And then the one of the two basic feelings that I do see to be able to identify 'panic' and less often 'anger' flood in and override the more subtle emotions... sadness, despair, vulnerability, shame.... an endless list.
I seem to have gotten better at identifying the physical elements of the emotions and with (D)'s help linking them to a named emotion. Sadness sits around the jaw, tight and wound. Shame creates a bodily feeling of disconnection... a rejection of the physical self really. But still there is an inherent disconnect between the naming and basic somatic reactions and any deep understanding of what the emotion actually is.
Looking back at therapy sessions this evening, I have come to realise how much I employ intellectualisation as a defense mechanism. Arguing semantics, being pedantic as a form of deflection, looking for the flaw in each persuasive arguement my therapist makes, much as I used to try and tear apart the opposing teams position in High School debate. Not really caring so much about the position I am taking, but more about negating the position she takes. Deflect, deflect, deflect. Anything to keep her, and more importantly myself away from peering at the primal wounds. And so often I haven't even realised I am doing it.
But what do I do? How do I make myself drop this defence? Recognising it is a good first step, admitting it to (D) and allowing her to call me on it another good step. But beyond that... how do I speak this language I just don't understand? I don't know how to communicate these things. Even this blog post... entirely rational and intellectualised.
Let's give it a try... At the moment I feel... pretty tired (ok, so that's more physical)... hmm, a bit anxious... but my mind immediately jumped to rationalising that as the fact its late at night, which is the worst time for me so I generally feel a bit anxious at this time of night. Ok...why anxious? Nights are a time where I feel vulnerable, like I am open to attack, I feel quite childlike like a little kid terrified of the boogie man in the cupboard, 90% of you knows its not there, but the other 10% can't be that certain. Ashamed, because I am a grown woman who is still afraid of childish things like the dark and the monsters that inhabit it. Fearful... it always sits in the pit of my stomach until dawn breaks or I fall asleep. Sigh. I don't know. Is that the way you do it? Maybe typing them isn't the way to acknowledge the feelings. Maybe I would be best to just lie quietly and let them come, yep thats fear, that's what it feels like, now let it flow on and feel what comes next? Maybe thats one way to start learning this language in a way that's more about understanding then just knowing the words. Does that even make sense?
I am so confused right now... and I really don't know how to start chipping away through this so we can start doing the things we need to be doing in therapy.
Peace and love
xOphelia
Monday, July 26, 2010
Tedium
Tedium: The quality or condition of being tedious; tediousness or boredom.
[Latin taedium, from taedre, to weary.]
Therapy was ok today. Unsuprisingly, some of the content focussed around the conversation we had about Borderline Personality last session, and the feelings this aroused. We spoke a little about the split between the purpose of the Public Mental Health team (my PsychDoc and Case Manager) and her, my private therapist. She purported that there should be no split, and anything that was impacting on me re: Public Health, was important to consider in therapy as well. More specifically, I had stated that I wasn't really all that interested in discussing the Borderline diagnosis with her, as I didn't feel that it impacted in anyway on the therapeutic process... PH was the place where diagnosis, medication and day to day coping skills were paramount, and therapy was more for understanding the motivations behind behaviours. I kind of felt like we were wasting time talking about it.
As the conversation continued, evidently I let out a rather large sigh. Cue thera-speak... "I wonder what is going on for you right now, behind that sigh?" (Sidenote: Why can't they just talk normally? How often do you say to the average person "I wonder why you chose this movie"? Just ask directly...I can take it, and its a little less irritating) Anyway, I told her that I was just feeling a bit fed-up. Not with her particularly, just with therapy in general. Walking into the room three times a week, and talking about things that more often than not recently, feel pretty unimportant. It felt tedious, and I didn't particularly, in that moment want to be there.
This resulted in an examination of what tedium was, was it felt like and when I had felt it before... a conversation that in itself felt pretty tedious.
The thing is... I don't feel like it is that important to look at in any great depth. For any human there comes times whether it be in relationships or work, where the act of doing the same or similar thing over an over again created a tedious feeling. It's natural, but it passes. Something will happen, that will break the monotony and spark a new engagement. In therapy, sometimes it is just the tedious task of poking around and hitting all the boring, non-painful areas for a while, until you hit a raw spot... and then the tedium breaks and there is room for growth or new insights. The only time I think the feeling of tedium is particulalry worriesome is if it persists and nothing sparks that break, or if you react to the tedium in a maladaptive way ie. this therapy is boring and wearisome in this exact moment, so I'm going to quit and never come back.
Sure the feeling is certainly a signpost in the therapeutic space that we're a bit off track, but if we keep pushing on eventually we'll get back on track again. IMO. Not a big deal. But everything must be examined within an inch of its life, whether important or not... so we'll be continuing this conversation in therapy tomorrow, no doubt, as we ran out of time today.
Re-reading this post it has a slightly snarky quality... but you know, I'm just a bit fed up. It will pass.
[Latin taedium, from taedre, to weary.]
Therapy was ok today. Unsuprisingly, some of the content focussed around the conversation we had about Borderline Personality last session, and the feelings this aroused. We spoke a little about the split between the purpose of the Public Mental Health team (my PsychDoc and Case Manager) and her, my private therapist. She purported that there should be no split, and anything that was impacting on me re: Public Health, was important to consider in therapy as well. More specifically, I had stated that I wasn't really all that interested in discussing the Borderline diagnosis with her, as I didn't feel that it impacted in anyway on the therapeutic process... PH was the place where diagnosis, medication and day to day coping skills were paramount, and therapy was more for understanding the motivations behind behaviours. I kind of felt like we were wasting time talking about it.
As the conversation continued, evidently I let out a rather large sigh. Cue thera-speak... "I wonder what is going on for you right now, behind that sigh?" (Sidenote: Why can't they just talk normally? How often do you say to the average person "I wonder why you chose this movie"? Just ask directly...I can take it, and its a little less irritating) Anyway, I told her that I was just feeling a bit fed-up. Not with her particularly, just with therapy in general. Walking into the room three times a week, and talking about things that more often than not recently, feel pretty unimportant. It felt tedious, and I didn't particularly, in that moment want to be there.
This resulted in an examination of what tedium was, was it felt like and when I had felt it before... a conversation that in itself felt pretty tedious.
The thing is... I don't feel like it is that important to look at in any great depth. For any human there comes times whether it be in relationships or work, where the act of doing the same or similar thing over an over again created a tedious feeling. It's natural, but it passes. Something will happen, that will break the monotony and spark a new engagement. In therapy, sometimes it is just the tedious task of poking around and hitting all the boring, non-painful areas for a while, until you hit a raw spot... and then the tedium breaks and there is room for growth or new insights. The only time I think the feeling of tedium is particulalry worriesome is if it persists and nothing sparks that break, or if you react to the tedium in a maladaptive way ie. this therapy is boring and wearisome in this exact moment, so I'm going to quit and never come back.
Sure the feeling is certainly a signpost in the therapeutic space that we're a bit off track, but if we keep pushing on eventually we'll get back on track again. IMO. Not a big deal. But everything must be examined within an inch of its life, whether important or not... so we'll be continuing this conversation in therapy tomorrow, no doubt, as we ran out of time today.
Re-reading this post it has a slightly snarky quality... but you know, I'm just a bit fed up. It will pass.
The mighty mighty benzo
Aside from the diagnosis issues to discuss with PsychDoc on Tuesday, we are also looking to start withdrawing me from the Serepax. A little scary, but I'm really keen to try. Ultimately, research has proven that Benzodiazepams are really not the best drugs to be on long term... and I have been on one or another benzo for the past 10 years. My first script was Temazepam, which did sweet f.a., to be honest. That was followed by a brief affair with Valium, but we parted ways after just two doses as it made me feel incredibly disconnected from myself and the world and nauseous and dizzy to boot. Xanax was my buddy for a good number of years, but that was cut short by the Psych after my admission to hospital last year, when they changed me over to Serepax, as it was longer acting. I only ever took the Xanax to stem off major panic attacks, so pretty much left to my own devices, I would often go weeks without taking any, and when I did, it would just be one or two. When they changed me to Serepax to help with anxiety and insomnia I was prescribed 3 doses a day.... so in the end, even though the Public Health System doesn't like Xanax, as being shorter acting, its more likely to be abused, I have actually ended up taking more benzos under their guidance than when left to my own discretion... oh well. In addition to this, I take Clonazepam twice a day in conjunction with my anti-epileptic meds. So yeah, me and benzos? Old Pals!
I can't stop taking the Clonazepam as it helps significantly with my seizure threshold. But I never intended to be on the Serepax for this long, particularly taking it three times a day. And I've been bringing up the idea of ceasing it for about 6 months now, but there always seemed to be some crisis or upcoming event that made it advisable to hold off on cessation. But things have evened out a lot more over the last two months or so, so it is time to try.
Dr F is quite supportive of this, and is open to discussing the ways in which we can best taper it down. There are a few inherent issues. Usually they switch out the serepax with valium, and then taper off the valium, but as mentioned, Valium is no friend of mine, so I've chosen to taper down with out any crossovers. We also have to be careful, as withdrawing off Benzos can lower the seizure threshold for a while, but I have some room to play with my Epilim Dosage, which should hopefully counteract this.
I'm on the lowest dose for each of the three doses... 7.5mg, which is half a tablet each time... so it doesn't leave much room to half the dosage. So, we figured that I will just start skipping the lunchtime dose to begin with. I've had a bit of a trial run last fortnight, and whilst I definately felt more agitated and anxious in the afternoon, it was certainly manageable. Because I'm on weekly meds, Dr F wants to make sure I have enough tablets each week so that I can take the lunchtime tablet if I need to. But she's also quite rightly concerned about me hoarding them. Frankly it would be a temptation... not because I'm suicidal right now, but because Ive been on weekly meds and thus without the safety blanket of stored meds for so long now. When she expressed her concern, I admitted I wasn't quite sure if I trusted myself. So, I'm going to propose she writes ONE script with the extra dose (adding up to 3 and a half extra tablets, nothing I can do with that), and I will give the extras to my sister to mind, unless I need them. And after that she writes the script for just two dose, unless we discuss otherwise. I know part of recovery is being responsible for my own well being, but part of being responsible, I believ, is knowing the areas you can't yet be trusted and asking for help.
So, she has talked to me about how important it is to withdraw slowly... but frankly I didn't think it was going to be too huge a deal. I mean I did ok for those couple of days last fortnight, and although I've been on this particular Benzo for nearly a year, its a reasonably low dose, and I still have the Clonazepam and my anti depressant in my system. But then I made the mistake of looking up Benzo Withdrawal....oh, internet, sometimes you are a Pandoras Box!... Some of the side effects of withdrawal allegedly include:
And in the meantime... if I do cut the cheese... I can just blame it on my benzo withdrawl, instead of the long suffering, unfairly maligned cat :P
I can't stop taking the Clonazepam as it helps significantly with my seizure threshold. But I never intended to be on the Serepax for this long, particularly taking it three times a day. And I've been bringing up the idea of ceasing it for about 6 months now, but there always seemed to be some crisis or upcoming event that made it advisable to hold off on cessation. But things have evened out a lot more over the last two months or so, so it is time to try.
Dr F is quite supportive of this, and is open to discussing the ways in which we can best taper it down. There are a few inherent issues. Usually they switch out the serepax with valium, and then taper off the valium, but as mentioned, Valium is no friend of mine, so I've chosen to taper down with out any crossovers. We also have to be careful, as withdrawing off Benzos can lower the seizure threshold for a while, but I have some room to play with my Epilim Dosage, which should hopefully counteract this.
I'm on the lowest dose for each of the three doses... 7.5mg, which is half a tablet each time... so it doesn't leave much room to half the dosage. So, we figured that I will just start skipping the lunchtime dose to begin with. I've had a bit of a trial run last fortnight, and whilst I definately felt more agitated and anxious in the afternoon, it was certainly manageable. Because I'm on weekly meds, Dr F wants to make sure I have enough tablets each week so that I can take the lunchtime tablet if I need to. But she's also quite rightly concerned about me hoarding them. Frankly it would be a temptation... not because I'm suicidal right now, but because Ive been on weekly meds and thus without the safety blanket of stored meds for so long now. When she expressed her concern, I admitted I wasn't quite sure if I trusted myself. So, I'm going to propose she writes ONE script with the extra dose (adding up to 3 and a half extra tablets, nothing I can do with that), and I will give the extras to my sister to mind, unless I need them. And after that she writes the script for just two dose, unless we discuss otherwise. I know part of recovery is being responsible for my own well being, but part of being responsible, I believ, is knowing the areas you can't yet be trusted and asking for help.
So, she has talked to me about how important it is to withdraw slowly... but frankly I didn't think it was going to be too huge a deal. I mean I did ok for those couple of days last fortnight, and although I've been on this particular Benzo for nearly a year, its a reasonably low dose, and I still have the Clonazepam and my anti depressant in my system. But then I made the mistake of looking up Benzo Withdrawal....oh, internet, sometimes you are a Pandoras Box!... Some of the side effects of withdrawal allegedly include:
abdominal pains, aching, agoraphobia, anxiety, blurred vision, body vibrations, changes in perception, diarrhea, distended abdomen, feeling of unreality, flu-like symptoms, flatulence, food cravings, hair loss, heart palpitations, heavy limbs, increased allergies, increased sense of smell, insomnia, lethargy, loss of balance, metallic taste, muscle spasms, nightmares, panic attacks, paranoia, persistent & unpleasant memories, severe headaches, shaking, short term memory loss, sore mouth and tongue, sound & light sensitivity, speech difficulties, sweating, suicidal thoughts, tinnitus, unusually sensitive, fearThis was one of the shorter lists. On some sites, there are those who seem to hold it responsible for everything from cavaties to the hole in the ozone layer... I don't know, its hard to find accurate information. I mean flatulence? Seriously? I think even when the side effects are written up on legitimate sited, the information is still derived from patient reporting, and there is a population of patients who just make the weirdest connections in their minds between vague somatic complaints and medications. Its hard to know which ones are valid. And then of course there is the fact its all planted in my mind.... you start thinking maybe my ears are ringing just a little, oooh and my mouth is dry, definately dry and that light is getting a bit bright for my eyes. Short story, I would have been better off not looking it up. And I know this from past experience... so why do I continue to do it? Sigh. We will just wait and see what the next week brings...
And in the meantime... if I do cut the cheese... I can just blame it on my benzo withdrawl, instead of the long suffering, unfairly maligned cat :P
Friday, July 23, 2010
Hurt and confused
So. It rears its head again. Borderline Personality Disorder. I was at an appointment with my GP on Tuesday, and we were looking for the latest letter from the PsychDoc. My GPs computer is set up so that the patient can actually see information as it is pulled up. I don't know why, and I'm kind of wishing now that it didn't. Anyway, she pulled a letter that turned out to be from last year when I was with BabyPsychDoc Douchebag, rather than the lovely Dr F that I see at the clinic now. And the top line stated (I'm not sure of it verbatim) basically that patient has diagnosis of PTSD and Borderline Personality Disorder (although patient has expressed discontent over the latter diagnosis). Sigh. Patient did not express 'discontent', patient was never actually formerly given the diagnosis, tested for the diagnosis or had it explained in any way. Patient only found out about the diagnosis attached to her name when she saw it in the hospital records whilst in a neurologist appointment. Patient tried to (rather calmly and rationally, I may add) ask for confirmation and justification of this new added diagnosis, only to be met with noone who would actually admit to being the one to put said diagnosis in her file!
That was last September. Although it pissed me off, I let it go, because a) it didn't seem to be impacting in anyway on my course of treatment (as stated before BabyPsychDoc at the time was a complete and utter douchbag for many reasons, a classic line of his was "you seem to be doing better, but its always hard to tell with 'you people' WTF? But I was changed to seeing the Consultant Psych, until the new registrar replaced him, and she is really quite good) and b)to confront it to aggressively would be to affrim the stereotypes that surround the diagnosis...we wouldn't want a female patient who is actually proactive about her mental health treatment and advocates for herself now would we?
This time, I was pissed and I wanted to do something about it. First, this is now outside of hospital records and in my general medical records which follow me forever, having a chronic medical condition, I need to keep my medical records intact, and although current GP is lovely and it doesn't affect the way she treats me at all, there are others in the medical field who will stigmatise based on this diagnosis...thats just the sad truth of it. If I'm ever in a court case (God knows for what?) it can be supnoead (sp?) If I wanted to adopt etc etc...none of these are issues at the moment, but when you are thinking of something that follows you FOREVER. Second, it creates a distrust in the mental health system I'm supposed to derive support from. It is blatent dishonesty. What other diagnosis would it be acceptable to just sneak into somebody's records and NEVER discuss it with them. How am I supposed to trust what they say with such a fundamental omission in play. This is how it should be. Clinician sees signs and symptoms of a particular disorder, they test their hypothesis against the DSM and through testing. (I've never undergone any of the accepted tests for Borderline diagnosis ie Perry Borderline Personality Disorder Scale) and once they are supported in their diagnosis, they then (here's the important part) sit down with the patient, share their findings and opinions, explain the diagnosis and share the current treatment plan.
I'm not saying that I flat out refuse to accept such a diagnosis. I have issues with the diagnosis itself on conceptual grounds. 5 out of 9 criterion to meet the Disorder. Two people can share 1 symptom and be diagnosed with the same disorder. Statistically there are over 2000 variations of criterion combination that could justify a diagnosis. It just seems to be a very broad brushstroke to me. And any diagnosis that has a 75% female, 25% male split certainly has to be examined in the light of sociological context. That is, behaviour accepted as normal for men, being pathologised in females. Takes us right back to Ancient Greek times when women were thought to suffer from "wandering wombs". It is not at all a far reach to say the broadness of this diagnosis has led to it being used as a wastebin for "difficult" female patient who have the audacity not to respond to the righteous treatment of hubristic practioners, because of course it could not be that their treatment is actually inadequate. And the stigma that comes from such a diagnosis just serves to marginalise and suppress a population that quite often has already had a lengthy history of marginalisation and mistreatment, and should be treated with empathy and understanding. Does Borderline Personality Disorder exist? Most certainly. And it can debilitating for those who do classically fit the criteria. I read some fantastic blogs from people who have accepted this diagnosis, and find it to be helpful in explaining why they see and engage in the world the way they do. Does it automatically apply to anyone with an XX chromosome that self harms? According to the DSM it shouldn't..... but in reality it does.
So, jumping off my soapbox now. Because this is about me. Does it apply to me? My gut says no. After extensive reading, my mind says no. But I am reasonable and open to hearing the professionals opinions. If I can get them to talk to me. I spoke to my Case Manager (another lovely lady) this morning during our appointment and told her what I had seen, and let her know that I was going to bring it up at my appointment with Dr F on Tuesday, that I just wanted to get all of it out in the open, rather than it being dealt with in an underhanded way. I have no idea if it is the enduring opinion of the professionals or just the work of Dr Douchebag. I was just letting her know in case she wanted to be at the appointment, as she has been my Case Manager since the time of Dr Douchebag when this letter was written. She was quite supportive about it, without ever actually saying whether or not she agreed with the diagnosis. She is a psychologist and they can't actually diagnose here in Australia, and really I guess its probably not her place to speak for the team. I think she understood my frustration about the manner in which it was handled, although she did express how incredibly difficult it is to get something like that removed from one's record. I think she still felt it was important for me to find out once and for all, and to feel like there was a transparency in my treatment and not a me versus them thing going on. She also said that if it were her, given the implicit stigmas that can be attached to this particualr diagnosis she would want to ensure that it was thoroughly assessed and valid before it was attached to her file. So all in all, a positive response, and I am sure it will be the same with Dr F. Not necessarily that they will agree with me, but that they will at least be open and honest with me about it... and that's all I ask.
But then.
I went to therapy. (D) is a private psychologist, with no link to the public system. She asked what had been going on over the last few days, and I let her know, about my talk with (M) and the upcoming appointment with Dr F. Now, keep in mind, I didn't actually ask her whether she thought I had this disorder. Why? Well, first because she has stated before that she feels that there is overly too much emphasis on labels and that it takes away from the ability to truly 'see' the person. And second, because I didn't want to know. Seems a bit hypocritical, no? I want full disclosure from the Public Health professionals, but I don't want to know what my therapist thinks? And maybe it is. But her opinion is NOT written down in my records, she cannot officially diagnose me, so her opinion can't hurt me in that sense. But it can sure as hell hurt me in a more practical sense. Unfortunately, I guess by bringing up the conversation she assumed I wanted to know her opinion, and I did nothing to dissuade her from that assumption. Totally my fault. Well, 99% my fault. So she proceeded to give me her take. First, labels tend to be more of a distraction from seeing and understanding the person (see I do know her!), second that she has issues with Borderline Personality as a disorder, for similar reasons to what I mentioned above. But that she does believe that people can suffer from (and I'm paraphrasing) a disorder of their sense of self... I do love how she believes that semiotics make much of a difference at all. And apparantly, a good part of her studies, she focussed on Borderline Personality (a disorder she has issues with, so I'm a little confused) And she does think that some of the criterion I don't think I fulfill, I actually kind of do. For instance, abandoment issues. I certainly don't display the traditionally thought of "Borderline" behaviours around it... ie lack of Object Constancy etc... but that you can't have the experiences I did in infancy and childhood, and not have abandonment issues. She admitted she couldn't quote the DSM verbatim, and would have to have a look at it, and would be happy to bring it in and go through it with me. At this point, I had gotten pretty quiet.... and yes, a little hurt and upset. I told her that I didn't want her to bring it in, and in fact, I hadn't asked her opinion. At which point she stated "I'm a little confused", to which I replied "Me too".
So that's the sum of it. I think I would have been better not knowing her opinion. And now I'm kind of stuck between not wanting to know anymore and needing her to actually explain her position because I don't know if she thinks I have it or not, and now its the elephant in the room. And yeah, my feelings got hurt. But I also have to buck up and be prepared to face the truth, whatever that is, and part of that is being prepared to listen to others opinions. So i think I need to hear her out in full, and of course (M) and Dr F as well, and then test those opinions against my own. Afterall, logically, living with a mental illness, whatever it may be, can distort ones own perceptions and insight. It doesn't mean I have to just unreservedly accept others opionions, but, if they've shown themselves to be trustworthy, and they have taken the time to know me, and try to understand me, which all three of these women have, then I should at least listen.
So, for now, I'm left hurt and confused
That was last September. Although it pissed me off, I let it go, because a) it didn't seem to be impacting in anyway on my course of treatment (as stated before BabyPsychDoc at the time was a complete and utter douchbag for many reasons, a classic line of his was "you seem to be doing better, but its always hard to tell with 'you people' WTF? But I was changed to seeing the Consultant Psych, until the new registrar replaced him, and she is really quite good) and b)to confront it to aggressively would be to affrim the stereotypes that surround the diagnosis...we wouldn't want a female patient who is actually proactive about her mental health treatment and advocates for herself now would we?
This time, I was pissed and I wanted to do something about it. First, this is now outside of hospital records and in my general medical records which follow me forever, having a chronic medical condition, I need to keep my medical records intact, and although current GP is lovely and it doesn't affect the way she treats me at all, there are others in the medical field who will stigmatise based on this diagnosis...thats just the sad truth of it. If I'm ever in a court case (God knows for what?) it can be supnoead (sp?) If I wanted to adopt etc etc...none of these are issues at the moment, but when you are thinking of something that follows you FOREVER. Second, it creates a distrust in the mental health system I'm supposed to derive support from. It is blatent dishonesty. What other diagnosis would it be acceptable to just sneak into somebody's records and NEVER discuss it with them. How am I supposed to trust what they say with such a fundamental omission in play. This is how it should be. Clinician sees signs and symptoms of a particular disorder, they test their hypothesis against the DSM and through testing. (I've never undergone any of the accepted tests for Borderline diagnosis ie Perry Borderline Personality Disorder Scale) and once they are supported in their diagnosis, they then (here's the important part) sit down with the patient, share their findings and opinions, explain the diagnosis and share the current treatment plan.
I'm not saying that I flat out refuse to accept such a diagnosis. I have issues with the diagnosis itself on conceptual grounds. 5 out of 9 criterion to meet the Disorder. Two people can share 1 symptom and be diagnosed with the same disorder. Statistically there are over 2000 variations of criterion combination that could justify a diagnosis. It just seems to be a very broad brushstroke to me. And any diagnosis that has a 75% female, 25% male split certainly has to be examined in the light of sociological context. That is, behaviour accepted as normal for men, being pathologised in females. Takes us right back to Ancient Greek times when women were thought to suffer from "wandering wombs". It is not at all a far reach to say the broadness of this diagnosis has led to it being used as a wastebin for "difficult" female patient who have the audacity not to respond to the righteous treatment of hubristic practioners, because of course it could not be that their treatment is actually inadequate. And the stigma that comes from such a diagnosis just serves to marginalise and suppress a population that quite often has already had a lengthy history of marginalisation and mistreatment, and should be treated with empathy and understanding. Does Borderline Personality Disorder exist? Most certainly. And it can debilitating for those who do classically fit the criteria. I read some fantastic blogs from people who have accepted this diagnosis, and find it to be helpful in explaining why they see and engage in the world the way they do. Does it automatically apply to anyone with an XX chromosome that self harms? According to the DSM it shouldn't..... but in reality it does.
So, jumping off my soapbox now. Because this is about me. Does it apply to me? My gut says no. After extensive reading, my mind says no. But I am reasonable and open to hearing the professionals opinions. If I can get them to talk to me. I spoke to my Case Manager (another lovely lady) this morning during our appointment and told her what I had seen, and let her know that I was going to bring it up at my appointment with Dr F on Tuesday, that I just wanted to get all of it out in the open, rather than it being dealt with in an underhanded way. I have no idea if it is the enduring opinion of the professionals or just the work of Dr Douchebag. I was just letting her know in case she wanted to be at the appointment, as she has been my Case Manager since the time of Dr Douchebag when this letter was written. She was quite supportive about it, without ever actually saying whether or not she agreed with the diagnosis. She is a psychologist and they can't actually diagnose here in Australia, and really I guess its probably not her place to speak for the team. I think she understood my frustration about the manner in which it was handled, although she did express how incredibly difficult it is to get something like that removed from one's record. I think she still felt it was important for me to find out once and for all, and to feel like there was a transparency in my treatment and not a me versus them thing going on. She also said that if it were her, given the implicit stigmas that can be attached to this particualr diagnosis she would want to ensure that it was thoroughly assessed and valid before it was attached to her file. So all in all, a positive response, and I am sure it will be the same with Dr F. Not necessarily that they will agree with me, but that they will at least be open and honest with me about it... and that's all I ask.
But then.
I went to therapy. (D) is a private psychologist, with no link to the public system. She asked what had been going on over the last few days, and I let her know, about my talk with (M) and the upcoming appointment with Dr F. Now, keep in mind, I didn't actually ask her whether she thought I had this disorder. Why? Well, first because she has stated before that she feels that there is overly too much emphasis on labels and that it takes away from the ability to truly 'see' the person. And second, because I didn't want to know. Seems a bit hypocritical, no? I want full disclosure from the Public Health professionals, but I don't want to know what my therapist thinks? And maybe it is. But her opinion is NOT written down in my records, she cannot officially diagnose me, so her opinion can't hurt me in that sense. But it can sure as hell hurt me in a more practical sense. Unfortunately, I guess by bringing up the conversation she assumed I wanted to know her opinion, and I did nothing to dissuade her from that assumption. Totally my fault. Well, 99% my fault. So she proceeded to give me her take. First, labels tend to be more of a distraction from seeing and understanding the person (see I do know her!), second that she has issues with Borderline Personality as a disorder, for similar reasons to what I mentioned above. But that she does believe that people can suffer from (and I'm paraphrasing) a disorder of their sense of self... I do love how she believes that semiotics make much of a difference at all. And apparantly, a good part of her studies, she focussed on Borderline Personality (a disorder she has issues with, so I'm a little confused) And she does think that some of the criterion I don't think I fulfill, I actually kind of do. For instance, abandoment issues. I certainly don't display the traditionally thought of "Borderline" behaviours around it... ie lack of Object Constancy etc... but that you can't have the experiences I did in infancy and childhood, and not have abandonment issues. She admitted she couldn't quote the DSM verbatim, and would have to have a look at it, and would be happy to bring it in and go through it with me. At this point, I had gotten pretty quiet.... and yes, a little hurt and upset. I told her that I didn't want her to bring it in, and in fact, I hadn't asked her opinion. At which point she stated "I'm a little confused", to which I replied "Me too".
So that's the sum of it. I think I would have been better not knowing her opinion. And now I'm kind of stuck between not wanting to know anymore and needing her to actually explain her position because I don't know if she thinks I have it or not, and now its the elephant in the room. And yeah, my feelings got hurt. But I also have to buck up and be prepared to face the truth, whatever that is, and part of that is being prepared to listen to others opinions. So i think I need to hear her out in full, and of course (M) and Dr F as well, and then test those opinions against my own. Afterall, logically, living with a mental illness, whatever it may be, can distort ones own perceptions and insight. It doesn't mean I have to just unreservedly accept others opionions, but, if they've shown themselves to be trustworthy, and they have taken the time to know me, and try to understand me, which all three of these women have, then I should at least listen.
So, for now, I'm left hurt and confused
Tuesday, July 13, 2010
Itty Bitty Tanties
Ok, so maybe I threw a little, eensy, weensy, tiny tantrum in therapy today. Highlights included telling her to back off, stop patronising me, screwing up my fists and lasping into a sulky, scowling silence for the last 15 minutes or so of the session. And yes, it probably is still a good thing therapeutically, working through transference issues and having the chance to experience and express (however clumsily) anger in the safe containment of the therapy room. But ultimately I'm left feeling like quite a prat, and am feeling quite embarrassed at the prospect of going back. And I maintain, for today at least, THERAPY SUCKS BALLS.
Had my PsychDoc appointment, and it went pretty well. We're going to put off the benzo withdrawal for a fortnight or so. With the current little slump I'm experiencing, its just better to wait until things stabilise a little. But then hopefully, we'll start a slow withdrawal process, and sometime (in the hopefully near future) I will be completely off the Serepax.
Other than that I'm just trying to focus on keeping a positive attitude. Its just a little slump and it will pass. It doesn't mean that things are spinning out of control. I will sleep again. And I will feel happy again. This too will pass.
Spoke to Case Manager (M) and she said to give her a call if things continue to be a bit down, otherwise I will see her next week. I guess a part of me just doesn't want to admit to them how low I am feeling, because I want to be able to handle it myself, there isn't really any particular problem that they can help address, and probably a little bit of pride as well.... I was doing so well, I hate that I wasn't able to keep it up.
Anyway, Lil Sis and I got some boxed sets...so we'll be watching Outrageous Fortunes, True Blood, and the first season of Glee for the forseeable future.
Peace and love
xOphelia
Had my PsychDoc appointment, and it went pretty well. We're going to put off the benzo withdrawal for a fortnight or so. With the current little slump I'm experiencing, its just better to wait until things stabilise a little. But then hopefully, we'll start a slow withdrawal process, and sometime (in the hopefully near future) I will be completely off the Serepax.
Other than that I'm just trying to focus on keeping a positive attitude. Its just a little slump and it will pass. It doesn't mean that things are spinning out of control. I will sleep again. And I will feel happy again. This too will pass.
Spoke to Case Manager (M) and she said to give her a call if things continue to be a bit down, otherwise I will see her next week. I guess a part of me just doesn't want to admit to them how low I am feeling, because I want to be able to handle it myself, there isn't really any particular problem that they can help address, and probably a little bit of pride as well.... I was doing so well, I hate that I wasn't able to keep it up.
Anyway, Lil Sis and I got some boxed sets...so we'll be watching Outrageous Fortunes, True Blood, and the first season of Glee for the forseeable future.
Peace and love
xOphelia
Monday, July 12, 2010
I don't wanna and you can't make me, so there!
So feeling much better. Sleep seems to be slowly improving which is fantastic. Had a bit of a funny converstion with Lil Sis this evening:
Me: Why is it that the "Woman's Day" (an Aussie Magazine) is only released weekly and the "Woman's Weekly" is only released monthly?
Lil Sis: Well, it wouldn't sell very well if they called it "Woman's Monthly"
Me: Touche, Grasshopper, Touche....
Therapy was interesting today. We got talking about my little irrational crying jag on Saturday night. I mentioned that I knew what had triggered it off (a movie I was watching) but that wasn't really the reason I kept crying. The crying jag was completely out of proportion with what I had seen. That being said, I really wasn't entirely sure of what was behind it... but it was more than what I had seen on the TV. Here is where it got a bit tricky, because obviously her next question was what I had been watching that upset me. And I didn't want to tell her. She assumed it was because I was embarrassed and I let her think that. But it was actually not that at all. The truth was, I knew if I told her what it was, she would read way more into it than was necessary, and we would be caught up in a conversation I didn't want to have. I'll share it with you, my dear readers. The movie I was watching was "MASH- the movie", quite an oldie. The scene that upset me was when Hawkeye was in a bus, trapped behind enemy lines, and they were trying to keep as quiet as they could so the soldiers wouldn't know they were there. But there was one Korean woman with a baby that wouldn't stop crying and was putting them all at risk of being found. So in desperation, she smothered the baby to death. It was really quite horrible. And of course if I shared this with (D) than what direction do you think the conversation would take. Mother who sacrifices her child for her own survival. Easy to see where that would lead to in a therapy situation.
So, I didn't tell her. Which she accepted, but of course then we had to examine why I didn't want to tell her. Sigh. I felt myself digging my heels in even harder, which was not helpful and really, I was starting to annoy myself. I felt like a petulant child. But I also didn't feel like I could do anything about it. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn't stop myself. So I did the next best thing. I talked to (D), she pulled the old therapy chestnut "what's going through your head right now". And I answered honestly, that I felt like I often was behaving like a petulant child, and that I didn't know how to stop myself, and be open and less stubborn so that we could actually have productive session. We spoke about it for a while, and she posited that when a child behaves like that it is away of them creating that seperation of self from a parent, and maybe I was doing it to create that seperation of self from her in the therapeutic process. Which annoyingly, made sense. Freaking transference. If I was to talk about this process to any of my friends, they would just think its bloody weird. And it is. But it is helpful. Sigh.
Anyhow. I'm applying to volunteer in the children's ward across from the RMH, which I think is a good step toward filling my life with productive and meaningful stuff. Job Hunt 2010 still goes on. Hopefully I should hear back from the Disability Employment Ofiicer soon. Tomorrow, I've got therapy again and then an appointment with Psych Doc. And then in the afternoon Lil Sis and I are going to go shopping for new DVD BoxSets to keep us entertained. Any suggestions?
Peace and Love
xOphelia
Me: Why is it that the "Woman's Day" (an Aussie Magazine) is only released weekly and the "Woman's Weekly" is only released monthly?
Lil Sis: Well, it wouldn't sell very well if they called it "Woman's Monthly"
Me: Touche, Grasshopper, Touche....
Therapy was interesting today. We got talking about my little irrational crying jag on Saturday night. I mentioned that I knew what had triggered it off (a movie I was watching) but that wasn't really the reason I kept crying. The crying jag was completely out of proportion with what I had seen. That being said, I really wasn't entirely sure of what was behind it... but it was more than what I had seen on the TV. Here is where it got a bit tricky, because obviously her next question was what I had been watching that upset me. And I didn't want to tell her. She assumed it was because I was embarrassed and I let her think that. But it was actually not that at all. The truth was, I knew if I told her what it was, she would read way more into it than was necessary, and we would be caught up in a conversation I didn't want to have. I'll share it with you, my dear readers. The movie I was watching was "MASH- the movie", quite an oldie. The scene that upset me was when Hawkeye was in a bus, trapped behind enemy lines, and they were trying to keep as quiet as they could so the soldiers wouldn't know they were there. But there was one Korean woman with a baby that wouldn't stop crying and was putting them all at risk of being found. So in desperation, she smothered the baby to death. It was really quite horrible. And of course if I shared this with (D) than what direction do you think the conversation would take. Mother who sacrifices her child for her own survival. Easy to see where that would lead to in a therapy situation.
So, I didn't tell her. Which she accepted, but of course then we had to examine why I didn't want to tell her. Sigh. I felt myself digging my heels in even harder, which was not helpful and really, I was starting to annoy myself. I felt like a petulant child. But I also didn't feel like I could do anything about it. I knew I was being childish, but I couldn't stop myself. So I did the next best thing. I talked to (D), she pulled the old therapy chestnut "what's going through your head right now". And I answered honestly, that I felt like I often was behaving like a petulant child, and that I didn't know how to stop myself, and be open and less stubborn so that we could actually have productive session. We spoke about it for a while, and she posited that when a child behaves like that it is away of them creating that seperation of self from a parent, and maybe I was doing it to create that seperation of self from her in the therapeutic process. Which annoyingly, made sense. Freaking transference. If I was to talk about this process to any of my friends, they would just think its bloody weird. And it is. But it is helpful. Sigh.
Anyhow. I'm applying to volunteer in the children's ward across from the RMH, which I think is a good step toward filling my life with productive and meaningful stuff. Job Hunt 2010 still goes on. Hopefully I should hear back from the Disability Employment Ofiicer soon. Tomorrow, I've got therapy again and then an appointment with Psych Doc. And then in the afternoon Lil Sis and I are going to go shopping for new DVD BoxSets to keep us entertained. Any suggestions?
Peace and Love
xOphelia
Saturday, July 10, 2010
Musings on dependency
I have spent a lot of the last 12 months in therapy terrified of becoming overly dependant on (D)'s support and the therapeutic process. The psychodynamic therapy we are undertaking is somehow a lot more confrontational in this aspect than my previous therapy ever was. Whether this is indicative of a different type of therapeutic alliance or the difference in therapeutic orientation, I'm not sure. Perhaps a little form column a and a little from column b?
Trust and attachment are intrinsically intwined with dependency in my mind. If I allow myself to be open enough with a person, to share parts of myself and allow myself to accept and derive comfort from the relationship between us, if I allow myself to believe, that maybe, just maybe... I can trust that this person is going to stick around and not turn from the 'darker' aspects of me and my life... if I can believe that any of this is possible, than certainly I would want it, need it even and I wouldn't want to let it go. Always that belief that I would overwhelm people with my needs if ever I was to allow them to show.
Dependency, of course has developed a bit of a bad rap. Even amongst some of the MH professionals who really should be able to look at the issue a little less simplistically. Dependency is for infants and children, as adults we should apparently be able to look out for ourselves. At least this is the message we are given. In the public health system, "service users" may find themselves fighting and (sometimes losing) to access the services that they feel they need. The MH system creates an atmosphere of fear, fear of dependency on hospitalisation, fear of too much dependency on individual professionals, fear of dependency on medication, fear of dependency on benefits... the list goes on and on. And some of them are valid fears in certain situations. But the blanket, knee jerk reaction to these, and the suggestion that any form of dependency is regressive and not mentally healthy is unhelpful.
Yes, for some people and it some situation hospital can foster an unhealthy dependence on an 'unreal' world. I think that's a possibility for anyone who is hospitalised. The world outside can feel scary and unsafe and full of decisions, that to suspend those responsabilities and know that you are at least physically safe for a while is certainly tempting. And it can be hard to know when you are actually 'able' to handle these things in the real world on your own. And of course, we have all heard the blanket dictate that anyone with a personality disorder will not benefit from hospitalisations (never mind if they have co-morbid depressions, suicidal ideations, psychosis etc) It's such a simplistic approach.Each situation should be looked at individually, rather than unbendable policies being enforced because of the bad rap of dependency. I myself have never had any issue really with accessing hospital care, but I read all the time about blogger friends who do, because of their labels, and it just seems so stupid to me.
Whilst I have not had much trouble accessing hospital care, my fears around dependency spring up in other areas. Dependency on medication. Now this is a funny one. Because whilst the MH professionals seem to make such a huge deal (rightly so) about the addictiveness of the benzos, it doesn't prevent them from dosing me up with them, and everytime that I have started to try and reduce my dosages, it has been at my suggestion rather than theirs. So on the one hand they help to create this fear of dependency, but on the other hand they continue to hand me medication, at times (not so much lately) it feels like hand over fist.
Within Case Management in the Public Mental Health system, I did undergo a little bit of stress at the end of last year in regards to being discharged from the service. The accepted thinking of the service is that they want to a) develop the individual's ability to soothe, contain and problem solve themselves and b) create a system of support that is community based rather than based on the mental health system. Fantastic in theory. But what I have found is that even while focusing on my ability to soothe, contain and problem solve myself, there are times when I am able to do this and times when it is a bit harder. In relation to developing community support, its great in theory, but the reality is that the average 'everyday' person is just not equipped with the skills, experience or ability to distance themselves as MH professionals are. So, some dependency on the service is necessary, and unless my MH issues disappear, potentially this dependency will exist for quite a while. But it waxes and wanes. I don't feel the need to pick up the phone and ring my case manager for every little issue (or even some of the big issues), we have cut contact back to once a fortnight, unless something comes up and that will probably reduce even further as things continue to go well. So, I think I am dependent on their being their as a safety net, but I don't feel its an unhealthy dependency.
Then we get to therapy, ah....therapy. The dependency that can be fostered in therapy is probably the scariest, because (D) has so much information I have trusted her with, so much insight into my thought processes and feelings, that she really has the potential to hurt me big time. She is a person who consistantly supports, holds (emotionally) and cares about me. Encourages me and helps me to learn. Sound familiar? Yup, as much as I hate to admit it, she has taken on a somewhat motherly role in my life. And what happened with the last mother in my life? Let's see... I was a dependent infant, and she was emotionally and physically absent due to her PND. She entered into a realationship with a violent alcoholic and allowed him to physically and emotionally hurt her babies, once again failing those who were dependent on her for protection She then (as a way of coping) withdrew entirely from those dependents abandoning them into an environment where secrets and darker, traumatic abuses could take place. So.... yeah.... feeling dependent + a person who acts in a motherly fashion = big fears of reenactments of past traumas and let downs for me. I do a dance with (D) of throwing up my cast iron shell, and letting in tumble and letting her in. Is the dependency I'm experiencing with her a bad thing? From a psychotherapeutic aspect of course all the transference issues that are brought up allow for great opportunities to explore, reexperience positively and grow. But she is not my mother, and I am no child. What kind of dependence is reasonable and sustainable? I guess this is where the boundaries come in. And (D) is pretty good at making those clear and keeping to them I guess. Sessions are consistently within the same frame. Time, structure, she's never late, always dependable. Contact outside of session is thoughtful and purposeful, whilst still flexible enough around times of crisis. The other big hurdle was me. Accepting that I need this woman, that I rely on her and thats ok. But I still keep my eyes open, still put all information and suggestions through my own validity tests and don't rely on her for *all* of my emotional needs, because a) she is only human and b) as important a part of my life as she is at the moment, by very defination she will not/should not be around for ever, and will never be a solid presence in my real day to day life. And that ,I am beginning to realise, is a healthy dependency
Trust and attachment are intrinsically intwined with dependency in my mind. If I allow myself to be open enough with a person, to share parts of myself and allow myself to accept and derive comfort from the relationship between us, if I allow myself to believe, that maybe, just maybe... I can trust that this person is going to stick around and not turn from the 'darker' aspects of me and my life... if I can believe that any of this is possible, than certainly I would want it, need it even and I wouldn't want to let it go. Always that belief that I would overwhelm people with my needs if ever I was to allow them to show.
Dependency, of course has developed a bit of a bad rap. Even amongst some of the MH professionals who really should be able to look at the issue a little less simplistically. Dependency is for infants and children, as adults we should apparently be able to look out for ourselves. At least this is the message we are given. In the public health system, "service users" may find themselves fighting and (sometimes losing) to access the services that they feel they need. The MH system creates an atmosphere of fear, fear of dependency on hospitalisation, fear of too much dependency on individual professionals, fear of dependency on medication, fear of dependency on benefits... the list goes on and on. And some of them are valid fears in certain situations. But the blanket, knee jerk reaction to these, and the suggestion that any form of dependency is regressive and not mentally healthy is unhelpful.
Yes, for some people and it some situation hospital can foster an unhealthy dependence on an 'unreal' world. I think that's a possibility for anyone who is hospitalised. The world outside can feel scary and unsafe and full of decisions, that to suspend those responsabilities and know that you are at least physically safe for a while is certainly tempting. And it can be hard to know when you are actually 'able' to handle these things in the real world on your own. And of course, we have all heard the blanket dictate that anyone with a personality disorder will not benefit from hospitalisations (never mind if they have co-morbid depressions, suicidal ideations, psychosis etc) It's such a simplistic approach.Each situation should be looked at individually, rather than unbendable policies being enforced because of the bad rap of dependency. I myself have never had any issue really with accessing hospital care, but I read all the time about blogger friends who do, because of their labels, and it just seems so stupid to me.
Whilst I have not had much trouble accessing hospital care, my fears around dependency spring up in other areas. Dependency on medication. Now this is a funny one. Because whilst the MH professionals seem to make such a huge deal (rightly so) about the addictiveness of the benzos, it doesn't prevent them from dosing me up with them, and everytime that I have started to try and reduce my dosages, it has been at my suggestion rather than theirs. So on the one hand they help to create this fear of dependency, but on the other hand they continue to hand me medication, at times (not so much lately) it feels like hand over fist.
Within Case Management in the Public Mental Health system, I did undergo a little bit of stress at the end of last year in regards to being discharged from the service. The accepted thinking of the service is that they want to a) develop the individual's ability to soothe, contain and problem solve themselves and b) create a system of support that is community based rather than based on the mental health system. Fantastic in theory. But what I have found is that even while focusing on my ability to soothe, contain and problem solve myself, there are times when I am able to do this and times when it is a bit harder. In relation to developing community support, its great in theory, but the reality is that the average 'everyday' person is just not equipped with the skills, experience or ability to distance themselves as MH professionals are. So, some dependency on the service is necessary, and unless my MH issues disappear, potentially this dependency will exist for quite a while. But it waxes and wanes. I don't feel the need to pick up the phone and ring my case manager for every little issue (or even some of the big issues), we have cut contact back to once a fortnight, unless something comes up and that will probably reduce even further as things continue to go well. So, I think I am dependent on their being their as a safety net, but I don't feel its an unhealthy dependency.
Then we get to therapy, ah....therapy. The dependency that can be fostered in therapy is probably the scariest, because (D) has so much information I have trusted her with, so much insight into my thought processes and feelings, that she really has the potential to hurt me big time. She is a person who consistantly supports, holds (emotionally) and cares about me. Encourages me and helps me to learn. Sound familiar? Yup, as much as I hate to admit it, she has taken on a somewhat motherly role in my life. And what happened with the last mother in my life? Let's see... I was a dependent infant, and she was emotionally and physically absent due to her PND. She entered into a realationship with a violent alcoholic and allowed him to physically and emotionally hurt her babies, once again failing those who were dependent on her for protection She then (as a way of coping) withdrew entirely from those dependents abandoning them into an environment where secrets and darker, traumatic abuses could take place. So.... yeah.... feeling dependent + a person who acts in a motherly fashion = big fears of reenactments of past traumas and let downs for me. I do a dance with (D) of throwing up my cast iron shell, and letting in tumble and letting her in. Is the dependency I'm experiencing with her a bad thing? From a psychotherapeutic aspect of course all the transference issues that are brought up allow for great opportunities to explore, reexperience positively and grow. But she is not my mother, and I am no child. What kind of dependence is reasonable and sustainable? I guess this is where the boundaries come in. And (D) is pretty good at making those clear and keeping to them I guess. Sessions are consistently within the same frame. Time, structure, she's never late, always dependable. Contact outside of session is thoughtful and purposeful, whilst still flexible enough around times of crisis. The other big hurdle was me. Accepting that I need this woman, that I rely on her and thats ok. But I still keep my eyes open, still put all information and suggestions through my own validity tests and don't rely on her for *all* of my emotional needs, because a) she is only human and b) as important a part of my life as she is at the moment, by very defination she will not/should not be around for ever, and will never be a solid presence in my real day to day life. And that ,I am beginning to realise, is a healthy dependency
Friday, July 9, 2010
Not such a great day
Yesterday was hard. And I guess a little bit of a shock to the system after a period of relative good moods. We so quickly become accustomed to it: the good moods, the lack of agitation, the good sleep, that when things take a bit of a slide, even if it is nowhere as bad as it has been before, you kind of feel it even worse because of the contrast. But I am trying very hard not to let it turn into a snowball effect.
I was up early for the ultrasound appointment, making sure I had enough water to drink and taking the higher dose of anti-anxiety meds to get through it. Having (S) come along proved to be a good thing, not just as a safety thing with the increased meds, but also just as a bit of distraction. She did offer to come into the consulting room with me, but I refused... taking our friendship just that step to far into the intimate, methinks. But it was nice of her to offer. I was pretty lucky with the tech that I got. I explained without going into much detail that this was a difficult test for me to have due to past trauma, and she was very good about explaining things step by step, taking it very slow and offering to stop if it got too much. She also tried to engage me by talking throughout the test, although this was not very effective as I found (as a coping mechanism, I think) that I was drifting in and out of the moment. Not full blown dissasociation, but certainly it was there to some degree. Probably exacerbated by the medication. It did trigger a lot of flashback type episodes which continued on after the appointment.
I got home and headed straight off to bed for a little bit, but found that I was pretty damned agitated and resting was pretty impossible. I felt quite disconnected, emotional and fuzzy. (Medication? Flashbacks? Probably a combination of both) I wasn't sure how I was going to handle catching public transport to get to my therapy session. After the brouh-ha a few months ago about missing sessions, I find it pretty hard to justify missing sessions, I never know if its a good enough reason. In the end I called (D) my therapist and she pushed the appointment back a little for me, (S) came to the rescue once again and drove me across town for the appointment. In my eyes it wasn't a very productive session. I spent the majority of it wrapped up in a blanket, and to be honest I don't really remember that much about what we talked about.
It's time to be proactive. The girls stayed last night which was a good way to get me back into the present and stay there. We had a girly night chatting and laughing and then woke up for bacon and eggs this morning. (M) my case manager and I had a phone meeting, which went pretty well. She's pretty pleased with my progress in general, as am I. She is going to make a referral to the employment officer in the service. We also touched briefly on creating a proactive plan for how I am going to deal with "D-Day anniversary" in September. I'm going to have a think about it ( but not dwell!!) Whether I want to just try making it through with a little extra support (phonecalls etc) or whether we should do a planned admission. A lot of it will come down to how I do in general over the next 6 weeks or so. If things remain as stable as they are, perhaps this year the anniversary wont be as much of a struggle.
(D) is going to do a check in call this afternoon, as I wasn't doing so great yesterday. (S) and I are going to catch a movie tomorrow and then I have a shift at RMH on sunday. I'm determined not to let htis hiccup ruin my good streak.
Peace and Love
Ophelia
I was up early for the ultrasound appointment, making sure I had enough water to drink and taking the higher dose of anti-anxiety meds to get through it. Having (S) come along proved to be a good thing, not just as a safety thing with the increased meds, but also just as a bit of distraction. She did offer to come into the consulting room with me, but I refused... taking our friendship just that step to far into the intimate, methinks. But it was nice of her to offer. I was pretty lucky with the tech that I got. I explained without going into much detail that this was a difficult test for me to have due to past trauma, and she was very good about explaining things step by step, taking it very slow and offering to stop if it got too much. She also tried to engage me by talking throughout the test, although this was not very effective as I found (as a coping mechanism, I think) that I was drifting in and out of the moment. Not full blown dissasociation, but certainly it was there to some degree. Probably exacerbated by the medication. It did trigger a lot of flashback type episodes which continued on after the appointment.
I got home and headed straight off to bed for a little bit, but found that I was pretty damned agitated and resting was pretty impossible. I felt quite disconnected, emotional and fuzzy. (Medication? Flashbacks? Probably a combination of both) I wasn't sure how I was going to handle catching public transport to get to my therapy session. After the brouh-ha a few months ago about missing sessions, I find it pretty hard to justify missing sessions, I never know if its a good enough reason. In the end I called (D) my therapist and she pushed the appointment back a little for me, (S) came to the rescue once again and drove me across town for the appointment. In my eyes it wasn't a very productive session. I spent the majority of it wrapped up in a blanket, and to be honest I don't really remember that much about what we talked about.
It's time to be proactive. The girls stayed last night which was a good way to get me back into the present and stay there. We had a girly night chatting and laughing and then woke up for bacon and eggs this morning. (M) my case manager and I had a phone meeting, which went pretty well. She's pretty pleased with my progress in general, as am I. She is going to make a referral to the employment officer in the service. We also touched briefly on creating a proactive plan for how I am going to deal with "D-Day anniversary" in September. I'm going to have a think about it ( but not dwell!!) Whether I want to just try making it through with a little extra support (phonecalls etc) or whether we should do a planned admission. A lot of it will come down to how I do in general over the next 6 weeks or so. If things remain as stable as they are, perhaps this year the anniversary wont be as much of a struggle.
(D) is going to do a check in call this afternoon, as I wasn't doing so great yesterday. (S) and I are going to catch a movie tomorrow and then I have a shift at RMH on sunday. I'm determined not to let htis hiccup ruin my good streak.
Peace and Love
Ophelia
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
Attacked by a Ninja Nap
Neuro appointment was quite uneventful really. Tests came back proving her hunch that the type of epilepsy I have is Juvenile Myoclonic Epilepsy. Sigh. Juvenile! I am 27 years old! lol. Basically all this means is that I have a combination of myoclonic and tonic clonic seizures, best treated with Epilim (Depakote for those across the pond) which is what I'm already on. She gave me leeway to increase my dose by 500-1000mg a day during times when I am not sleeping etc, which gives me a bit more flexability to manage my own medications. She siad unless I have a significant amount of seizures I don't need to go back for 6 months. But that I am likely to have the odd one. And I will have it, and be on medication for it for the rest of my life.
I stopped by the Pathology offices on the way home, and got the blood work I needed done, and booked in my next appointment with my GP, so a throroughly medical day...blah!
When I got home, I rang up Case Manager (M) to check as to whether she has had chicken pox or not. Alas! She has not, so we changed our face to face meeting on friday to a phone meeting, until time shows whether I am going to come out in spots. Sigh. I also got her to check with PsychDoc (cos I'm responsible like that! :P) whether I could take an increased amount of Serepax tomorrow morning before I go for the ultrasound, to help deal with the inevitable anxiety. Dr F was not in the office, so she asked Dr S the consultant. The male consultant. Embarrassment much? Anyhow. He has approved up to 22.4mg rather than the 7.5mg I would normally take, so hopefully that should help take the edge off. My friend (S) is going to pick me up at 7.50am and take me there, so I'm not wandering around the greater pulic transport system in a drug induced haze. Hopefully I will be able to get a few hours kip between that and my therapy appointment in the afternoon. And then its gleeathon sleepover with the girls. Yea! (M) and Dr S are both pretty pleased with how well I'm going. (M) of course bubbling over with delight in her usual Pollyanna-ish way! I've had to call her twice this week, but both times for housekeeping rather than crisis, much to her delight.
Ok. I'm off to think about tidying the house before the girls rock up tomorrow
Peace and love
xOphelia
Why I'll never use a face mask again!
Therapy has been interesting. (D) and I were talking about how I have been able to contain the unpleasant stuff that's being brought up in therapy to the therapy room. Part of the problem with therapy in the recent past is that when things were brought up in session I have carried them into my outside life, ruminating and growing more depressed and anxious because I become overwhelmed with it all. I had thought that this new ability to contain it could only be a good thing, as it allows me to work on what I need to work on in a safe place, but not carry it with me to a place where I don't have that safety and support. (D) however, queried whether I might be repressing or avoiding the issues outside of therapy. For some reason this caused me to become extremely agitated. I think maybe because I felt a) like "shit, I thought I was doing good... obviously I can't do anything right" and b) annoyed because why does she have to go and mess with a good thing? (D) expanded saying that she just wanted me to be aware that whether I was doing well or not so well, she would not turn away from the parts of me that remembered the distress and hurts, and she didn't want me to either. I'm not really explaining this very well, and to be honest, I found it all a bit confusing myself. The conclusion we came to in the end, is that for the moment I need her to hold that distress for me within the therapeutic frame, because I cannot hold it by myself outside of session and still retain any semblance of balance. So maybe its a little avoidance/repression, but it's working for now. The analogy that comes to my head is that its kind of like keeping a child safe. When they are very young to keep them safe you have to attend to them all the time, leaving you no time to do anything else. Which is why parents will employ safety pens. Still interacting and keeping them safe, but with the ability to turn away and attend to other things, and know that it will still be safe for them. Therapy is the safety pen, and that distressed part of me is not yet able to be left unattended. As I mature emotionally, like the child, the distressed part of me will be able to venture out of the pen and spend less and less time needing to be constantly attended to and monitored. Anyway. Interesting session. Then in todays session we broached the subject of my "being unseen" as a child. Particularly within the mother-daughter relationship. And the way that affects me today. In particular, my automatic assumption that I am doing something wrong. (see above) Basically, she posits that as a result of my mothers post natal depression, my father's abandonment of me as an infant, and my sister's complete ambivalence about my existance (she tried to get rid of me by hiding me behind a wood pile as a baby) that I have come into this world feeling "unseen" and trying to remedy it by being the 'perfect child' and when this failed to make me visible to my family assuming that I was doing something wrong to be unworthy of acknowledgement. The whole idea that family dynamics of my infancy could really have any impact on me today seems a little odd to me still, but as (D) pointed out the dynamics have become set and remain to this day. My sister would certainly try and hide me behind the wood pile today if she could get away with it and she's 29 years old! Lol. And, whilst I think my mother really did 'see' me for the first time when I was in the ICU post overdose (not a great way to be seen and not something I wish to repeat!), I think as time has passed, we've slipped back into those old comfortable dynamics, where I am invisible once again. Anyway, we left it there and will pick it up again on Thursday. Gosh! Therapy makes my brain hurt sometimes, but I feel like we've finally scraped passed the first few superficial layers, not to the core yet, but its progress.
I got a call today from the mother of the kids I've been babysitting, to let me know they've come up with chicken pox. Sigh. First, this means I'm out two days work, because I was supposed to look after them until the end of this week. Second, I have never had chicken pox, so gulp! I've been exposed to it a few times through my work with kids though, so I doubt I'll catch it this time, if I haven't caught it so far. But it has reminded me that I do need to go and get the vaccine. If I catch it, it could take up to 21 days to show up. So, I promptly texted (D) to ask if she had had it (weird conversation to have with your therapist) but sitting in close proximity to her 3 days a week, and not knowing about her life (if she has regular contact with infants, pregnant women or people with suppressed immune system) I figured it was best to ask. I'm pretty sure I won't get it, but I'm going to be a little careful about where I go for the next few weeks, as the most contagious period is apparently before you get the rash.
That being said, I do have a Neurologist appointment and an Ultrasound appointment this week that I can't miss. Neuro is tomorrow. I'm not expecting much out of it. Seizure control not the greatest over the last two months, but this is pretty much directly proportional to fatigue so not suprising. That being said, since I got back from prac seizure control is pretty good, so obviously the medication works, just not in the face of crazy insomnia. Anyway will get the results from the sleep deprived EEG. And PsychDoc wants me to check with Neuro about the possible ramifications of reducing my Serepax (anxiety med) on seizure threshhold. I still have that niggle in the back of my mind after all these years that possibly some of my seizures are pseudoseizures. I have been definitively told by specialist that at least some of my seizures are genuine epileptic seizures. There are certain things I won't go into that help them make that diagnosis. But, as my seizures are at times still medication resistant and as I already know well, I'm a bit of a nutter, I wonder whether some of them may be psychosomatic or stress induced. I can never get a straight answer from Neuro Doc, maybe because they have no real way of telling other than 'catching' a non epileptic seizure whilst EEG monitoring. I don't know why it bothers me, other than the fact that if the breakthrough seizures were pseudoseizures...well then there is a chance I could get rid of them, as medication doesn't seem to be the answer. I don't know, grasping at straws I guess. I try not to let it get me down, but the seizures are disruptive, exhausting and really make me feel out of control, which is not a feeling I deal with well.
I've recruited (S) to drive to me to my ultrasound on Thursday, as I'm planning on taking a lot of medication to get get me through it without a freakout. So probably not a great idea to be on public transport. God, I am cringing just thinking about it. I do have a good friend there though, willing to get up early on her holidays to drive me across town to the hospital for this extremely embarrassing and anxiety provokign test. Thursday night our other friend (SC) is coming into town and the three of us are going to watch the season finale of Glee and have a sleep over (yes, I am 27 and not 14....but meh!) This means the girls will be here when my Case Manager comes around on friday morning (if she still comes, have to check her chicken pox status first) but they can hang out else where in the house for a bit.
All in all still in a reasonable mood. Sleep not perfect but still far better than normal. Biggest disruption at them moment is (you can laugh at me, its pathetic) I did a face mask last friday and had an allergic reaction, which I've never had before. I got it off pretty fast, but I have this welt on my left cheek bone, requiring ample amounts of make up each day, and the top layer of my skin has kind of burnt off on my forehead, cheek bones, under my eyes etc. So, have been using lots of moisturisor and taking make up off as soon as I get home.... but its getting to that itchy stage of healing and driving me nuts at night! Sigh, the stupid things us girls do in the name of beauty! Luckily its not all that noticible under make up....embarrassing much?
Anyway... off to slather on moisturiser and attempt to get some sleep.
Peace and Love
Ophelia.
I got a call today from the mother of the kids I've been babysitting, to let me know they've come up with chicken pox. Sigh. First, this means I'm out two days work, because I was supposed to look after them until the end of this week. Second, I have never had chicken pox, so gulp! I've been exposed to it a few times through my work with kids though, so I doubt I'll catch it this time, if I haven't caught it so far. But it has reminded me that I do need to go and get the vaccine. If I catch it, it could take up to 21 days to show up. So, I promptly texted (D) to ask if she had had it (weird conversation to have with your therapist) but sitting in close proximity to her 3 days a week, and not knowing about her life (if she has regular contact with infants, pregnant women or people with suppressed immune system) I figured it was best to ask. I'm pretty sure I won't get it, but I'm going to be a little careful about where I go for the next few weeks, as the most contagious period is apparently before you get the rash.
That being said, I do have a Neurologist appointment and an Ultrasound appointment this week that I can't miss. Neuro is tomorrow. I'm not expecting much out of it. Seizure control not the greatest over the last two months, but this is pretty much directly proportional to fatigue so not suprising. That being said, since I got back from prac seizure control is pretty good, so obviously the medication works, just not in the face of crazy insomnia. Anyway will get the results from the sleep deprived EEG. And PsychDoc wants me to check with Neuro about the possible ramifications of reducing my Serepax (anxiety med) on seizure threshhold. I still have that niggle in the back of my mind after all these years that possibly some of my seizures are pseudoseizures. I have been definitively told by specialist that at least some of my seizures are genuine epileptic seizures. There are certain things I won't go into that help them make that diagnosis. But, as my seizures are at times still medication resistant and as I already know well, I'm a bit of a nutter, I wonder whether some of them may be psychosomatic or stress induced. I can never get a straight answer from Neuro Doc, maybe because they have no real way of telling other than 'catching' a non epileptic seizure whilst EEG monitoring. I don't know why it bothers me, other than the fact that if the breakthrough seizures were pseudoseizures...well then there is a chance I could get rid of them, as medication doesn't seem to be the answer. I don't know, grasping at straws I guess. I try not to let it get me down, but the seizures are disruptive, exhausting and really make me feel out of control, which is not a feeling I deal with well.
I've recruited (S) to drive to me to my ultrasound on Thursday, as I'm planning on taking a lot of medication to get get me through it without a freakout. So probably not a great idea to be on public transport. God, I am cringing just thinking about it. I do have a good friend there though, willing to get up early on her holidays to drive me across town to the hospital for this extremely embarrassing and anxiety provokign test. Thursday night our other friend (SC) is coming into town and the three of us are going to watch the season finale of Glee and have a sleep over (yes, I am 27 and not 14....but meh!) This means the girls will be here when my Case Manager comes around on friday morning (if she still comes, have to check her chicken pox status first) but they can hang out else where in the house for a bit.
All in all still in a reasonable mood. Sleep not perfect but still far better than normal. Biggest disruption at them moment is (you can laugh at me, its pathetic) I did a face mask last friday and had an allergic reaction, which I've never had before. I got it off pretty fast, but I have this welt on my left cheek bone, requiring ample amounts of make up each day, and the top layer of my skin has kind of burnt off on my forehead, cheek bones, under my eyes etc. So, have been using lots of moisturisor and taking make up off as soon as I get home.... but its getting to that itchy stage of healing and driving me nuts at night! Sigh, the stupid things us girls do in the name of beauty! Luckily its not all that noticible under make up....embarrassing much?
Anyway... off to slather on moisturiser and attempt to get some sleep.
Peace and Love
Ophelia.
Sunday, July 4, 2010
Lokking hot!
Successful day. Managed to amuse myself quite well. I am particularly pleased with my new hair colour. A really nice chocolate brown colour, perfect for winter! Plus I did a treatment on it, so its all shiny and healthy and purty! I tend to be fairly lax with my appearance for the most part, can't muster up the energy to care... but at the moment I am feeling quite good about myself, inside and out. I look hot! Well....apart from the excess kilos from the anti-psychotics, but we won't talk about that!
I spoke with my mum on the phone this evening, and she is quite happy to hear how well things are going. However, she has been helping out financially for the last three months, paying for my third weekly session. And now that I am doing a bit better, she is questioning whether I still need the third session. I kind of agree with her, and really would prefer not to have to take their money... but I think maybe I need to have this stability for a few more weeks before we go changing things. I'm lucky that she has been able to help out with that extra $120 a month, but I get the feeling from my family a lot that they just don't see how I possibly NEED to see a therapist 3 times a week (or even twice or once). They just don't understand that stability doesn't necessarily mean everything is fixed now. Obviously I don't plan on being in therapy forever and certainly not at this frequency. Sigh. It just puts a lot of pressure on. And I guess that was why I was reluctant to accept the money in the first place. To allow somebody else to have a stake in it, and feel as though they have a right to an opinion on frequency or effectivenss. She is going to put in money for another month. But I think if after that I still need it, I am just going to have to find the money myself.
Anyway. Therapy tomorrow. And this week I have a meeting with PsychDoc, one with Case Manager, one with Neurologist, one for an ultrasound and of course my other two therapy sessions....so chock-block appointments. Blah!
Peace and Love
xOphelia
I spoke with my mum on the phone this evening, and she is quite happy to hear how well things are going. However, she has been helping out financially for the last three months, paying for my third weekly session. And now that I am doing a bit better, she is questioning whether I still need the third session. I kind of agree with her, and really would prefer not to have to take their money... but I think maybe I need to have this stability for a few more weeks before we go changing things. I'm lucky that she has been able to help out with that extra $120 a month, but I get the feeling from my family a lot that they just don't see how I possibly NEED to see a therapist 3 times a week (or even twice or once). They just don't understand that stability doesn't necessarily mean everything is fixed now. Obviously I don't plan on being in therapy forever and certainly not at this frequency. Sigh. It just puts a lot of pressure on. And I guess that was why I was reluctant to accept the money in the first place. To allow somebody else to have a stake in it, and feel as though they have a right to an opinion on frequency or effectivenss. She is going to put in money for another month. But I think if after that I still need it, I am just going to have to find the money myself.
Anyway. Therapy tomorrow. And this week I have a meeting with PsychDoc, one with Case Manager, one with Neurologist, one for an ultrasound and of course my other two therapy sessions....so chock-block appointments. Blah!
Peace and Love
xOphelia
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
A phonecall with my gran
I think I have written recently about my decision to discontinue my uni studies. Basically, although I managed to finish my prac and get pretty good evaluations, the toll on my body and mental health was pretty immense. I realised that realistically, I am not going to be able to work full time as a teacher any time soon. Which leaves me with the options of trying to find a part-time position when I graduate (near on impossible as a new graduate in this field) or work as a substitute teacher which is a) not what I want to do, it's not the same as being a 'real' teacher and b) would be logistically difficult as I am unable to drive and you can be called on any given moment to work at any given place in the city. I love teaching, and I love working with kids, but the workload of a teacher (inspite of what people think about the "extra holidays" and shorter hours, is quite big. A significant amount of time spent outside of working hours doing prep, marking, planning, extra curricular supervision and professional development. It just doesn't fit in with the sort of lifestyle I need to maintain in order to best protect my health.
This was a hard decision to come to. It's been a dream for so long, and I have invested so much time and energy into it. And, in part, it was me holding on to the person 'I used to be' rather than accepting my current limitations and need to look after myself. I can't do the 9-5 thing like an average person, but I'm coming to realise, that doesn't shut down all opportunities or make me any less of a productive member of society unless I allow myself to think like that.
Even though the most improtant step was for me to get to a place where I wasn't judging myself for these percieved shortcomings, another factor that came into play was worrying about what other people would think, especially my family.
I felt a lot of pressure from my family as the family academic to do well, go to uni and get a good job. When I was diagnosed with the epilepsy, and when my mental health started to become a problem, I felt as though I was letting them down. I was trying desperately to live up to the story that had been created for my life. When I made the decision to drop my studies I felt like they would think I was being lazy and not living up to my potential. In the last few weeks I have had some heart to hearts with my mum, and tonight, my gran about this issue. They both claim that they just waant me to be happy and healthy and they don't care what I'm doing, as long as this is the outcome. I don't think they are being completely honest with themselves. I think on a certain level they are disappointed. But maybe its more a case of being disappointed for me rather than in me. And, through these conversations and others with my various mental health professionals, I am beginning to realise that a lot of the pressure and expectation I am feeling I have been placing on myself. Ultimately in the end, if I can continue to show them the sense of relief I have felt because of this decision and the positive effect it is having on my well being, and if I can go and get part-time work that is more conducive to the lifestyle I need and want to live, then they will truly realise I have made the right choice.
I feel such a great sense of light heartedness and relief having put this on the table to them, and such a feeling of support from them... it's wonderful.
As for myself... I have to keep reminding myself.
-I am an intelligent, hardworking person with one uni degree to name already
-I have a lot to contribute to the world
-I don't have to contribute this in the 'traditional'' 9-5 manner
-Living a good, healthy, balanced life is more important than the popular view of career success
-The right job is out there for me, I just need to stay true to what I need from a job, and when I find that position they will be lucky to have me, because I am loyal to the end and I work my ass off.
And...... I am so lucky to live in a country where, I can work part-time and the Government will subsidise the rest of my income, because it is evident that I am doing the best I can, rather than sitting on my laurels (and there may be times when my best is just keeping my head above water and not working at all...and that's okay too).
So, peeps... I am on a new path.... I don't expect to find this job straight away, and I am prepared for knockbacks while I try and find this perfect-fit position. But I have options and the growing support of most my family and friends.... life is starting to look up. I'm opening myself up to achievable goals rather than setting myself up for failure and then beating myself up when it inevitabley happens.
Peace and love
xOphelia
p.s. I am 9 visits away from reaching 5000 views on this blog. Small fries compared to some of the fab other blogs out there... but for this little blog of my ramblings, that I never really expected anyone to find, let alone read loyally.... wow... tickles me a little. I'm pretty pleased to meet this milestone, just short of my first blog-iversary. Thanks for all your great comments and support and sticking with me, even when I have disappeared for weeks at a time. You guys rock!
This was a hard decision to come to. It's been a dream for so long, and I have invested so much time and energy into it. And, in part, it was me holding on to the person 'I used to be' rather than accepting my current limitations and need to look after myself. I can't do the 9-5 thing like an average person, but I'm coming to realise, that doesn't shut down all opportunities or make me any less of a productive member of society unless I allow myself to think like that.
Even though the most improtant step was for me to get to a place where I wasn't judging myself for these percieved shortcomings, another factor that came into play was worrying about what other people would think, especially my family.
I felt a lot of pressure from my family as the family academic to do well, go to uni and get a good job. When I was diagnosed with the epilepsy, and when my mental health started to become a problem, I felt as though I was letting them down. I was trying desperately to live up to the story that had been created for my life. When I made the decision to drop my studies I felt like they would think I was being lazy and not living up to my potential. In the last few weeks I have had some heart to hearts with my mum, and tonight, my gran about this issue. They both claim that they just waant me to be happy and healthy and they don't care what I'm doing, as long as this is the outcome. I don't think they are being completely honest with themselves. I think on a certain level they are disappointed. But maybe its more a case of being disappointed for me rather than in me. And, through these conversations and others with my various mental health professionals, I am beginning to realise that a lot of the pressure and expectation I am feeling I have been placing on myself. Ultimately in the end, if I can continue to show them the sense of relief I have felt because of this decision and the positive effect it is having on my well being, and if I can go and get part-time work that is more conducive to the lifestyle I need and want to live, then they will truly realise I have made the right choice.
I feel such a great sense of light heartedness and relief having put this on the table to them, and such a feeling of support from them... it's wonderful.
As for myself... I have to keep reminding myself.
-I am an intelligent, hardworking person with one uni degree to name already
-I have a lot to contribute to the world
-I don't have to contribute this in the 'traditional'' 9-5 manner
-Living a good, healthy, balanced life is more important than the popular view of career success
-The right job is out there for me, I just need to stay true to what I need from a job, and when I find that position they will be lucky to have me, because I am loyal to the end and I work my ass off.
And...... I am so lucky to live in a country where, I can work part-time and the Government will subsidise the rest of my income, because it is evident that I am doing the best I can, rather than sitting on my laurels (and there may be times when my best is just keeping my head above water and not working at all...and that's okay too).
So, peeps... I am on a new path.... I don't expect to find this job straight away, and I am prepared for knockbacks while I try and find this perfect-fit position. But I have options and the growing support of most my family and friends.... life is starting to look up. I'm opening myself up to achievable goals rather than setting myself up for failure and then beating myself up when it inevitabley happens.
Peace and love
xOphelia
p.s. I am 9 visits away from reaching 5000 views on this blog. Small fries compared to some of the fab other blogs out there... but for this little blog of my ramblings, that I never really expected anyone to find, let alone read loyally.... wow... tickles me a little. I'm pretty pleased to meet this milestone, just short of my first blog-iversary. Thanks for all your great comments and support and sticking with me, even when I have disappeared for weeks at a time. You guys rock!
Tuesday, June 29, 2010
Over share....sorry!
Starting with the nice stuff first... I slept right up to the alarm this morning and even hit the snooze button! Loving this sleep stuff!! Off to therapy and a GP appointment, and then shopping! And I didn't even freak out in the crazy school holidays crowd. I bought some warm, casual clothes...(as I am too fat to fit in last winter's clothes) including a cute shirt with two penguins on it that says "Melt hearts not ice caps". Very sacchrine, but I will ony be wearing it as a bed shirt, so won't be too embarrassing...and I just couldn't resist it. Also got an awesome pair of black knee high boots. I have been looking for boots for well over a year now, but current fashion trends seem to lean towards tall stiletto ones, which I cannot wear due to my vestibular system, so when I found these, on sale even, I was stoked.
Tracking back.....therapy. It wasn't horrendous, but wasn't exactly a laugh either. We started off talking about self protection. (D) knew that I had a late shift last night and that I planned to catch the bus home. Because the Busway is behind a shopping centre and the shops are obviously closed at that time, you have to walk right around the poorly lit perimeter, before you get to the better lit main road that I live on. (D) asked why I didn't ask lil sis to pick me up and I told her that lil sis goes to work at 5am so she is usually in bed by 9ish. (D) then contended that I felt lil sis's sleep was more important than my safety and basically insinuated that I leaned towards more risk taking behaviour than the average joe. I don't think that's a fair assessment. I very rarely am out at that time of night, I try to schedule things so I am home before dark. But once in a while a situation comes up where I can't avoid it. It's only a 5 minute walk, and I keep alert (heck, I have PTSD, I am HYPER-alert) towards my surroundings. I have taken self defense. The fact of the matter is, the epilepsy prevents me from driving, so I am reliant on Public Transport. And my independance is very important to me.
I was starting to get quite annoyed with her nagging me about, and told her as much. And then.... the conversation I had been waiting for, but surreptitiously avoiding since I got back from prac. "Our relationship'. Specifically, how I find it incredibly uncomfortable when she shows any sign of care or concern about me ( but paradoxically, feel comforted and validated....grrr) She (with her annoyingly perfect memory of everything I have EVER said in therapy) reminded me of a comment I made right back when we started, referring to peoples reactions to me. I said "Disgust is horrible, but empathy is even worse". So all in all an awkward, yucky session. BUT. I was proud of the fact that rather than shutting down the topic, I let it unfurl, to see whether anything came of it, rather than give into my panic and discomfort. Yay me! We ended with a kind of heavy feeling in the air, and (D) was worried about whether I would be ok to leave. But I thought about it and felt I would be. And in reality, I walked out the door, and was able to pretty much leave it in there, to pick up next session. Something that I have struggled to do in the past. :)
After that I had a GP appointment, and she reminded me of a test that I have needed done, and been putting off for weeks. ***************Warning: Personal Overshare of an intimate nature following, feel free to cease reading especially if you have a Y chromosome*********************************************************
Basically, I have a lot of gynaecological problems, as a result of the trauma my body has undergone.... and they are quite insistant that they want me to get this ultrasound done. Unofrtunately, this particular untrasound is nnot done externally. UGH! Aside from the fact that for anybody this is an embarrassing proposition, because of my SA history and the PTSD, I can't make it through a papsmear with my own very lovely female GP, without a buttload of aanti anxiety medication. The prospect of some ultrasound technician I don't even know, sticking something up my whoo-ha..... well to say I am freaking out, is putting it mildly. Suggestions from any of the gals out there with similar fears and how they get through it are appreciated.
So that's my day. Still all in all a pretty positive mood. I was reading Pandora's post today over at Confessions of a Serial Insomniac, and I guess she was defending (?) her particular approach to therapy and mentalism in general. And it really got me thinking. How sad it is, that with a good portion of the so-called normal population judging and misunderstanding mentalism, that we ourselves would want to attack or criticise each others approaches. Personally, I don't care if you make the journey kicking, screaming and cursing every step of the way, or frolicking along gently spouting inspirational sayings and personal affirmations. The fact that you are making your way through is what's important. And, myself, I actually like me a little sarcastic, black humoured, 'the glass isn't half empty, its smashed on the floor in a million pieces after I tried to glass the last person who told me to Let go and Let god' type approach. And I love Pandora's raw and unflinching honesty. So even though I seem to be drawing rainbows and smealling flowers at the moment, I'm still on your side, sista! I can be happy, sad, angry, downright going off my brain, but as long as I'm moving I don't care.
Tracking back.....therapy. It wasn't horrendous, but wasn't exactly a laugh either. We started off talking about self protection. (D) knew that I had a late shift last night and that I planned to catch the bus home. Because the Busway is behind a shopping centre and the shops are obviously closed at that time, you have to walk right around the poorly lit perimeter, before you get to the better lit main road that I live on. (D) asked why I didn't ask lil sis to pick me up and I told her that lil sis goes to work at 5am so she is usually in bed by 9ish. (D) then contended that I felt lil sis's sleep was more important than my safety and basically insinuated that I leaned towards more risk taking behaviour than the average joe. I don't think that's a fair assessment. I very rarely am out at that time of night, I try to schedule things so I am home before dark. But once in a while a situation comes up where I can't avoid it. It's only a 5 minute walk, and I keep alert (heck, I have PTSD, I am HYPER-alert) towards my surroundings. I have taken self defense. The fact of the matter is, the epilepsy prevents me from driving, so I am reliant on Public Transport. And my independance is very important to me.
I was starting to get quite annoyed with her nagging me about, and told her as much. And then.... the conversation I had been waiting for, but surreptitiously avoiding since I got back from prac. "Our relationship'. Specifically, how I find it incredibly uncomfortable when she shows any sign of care or concern about me ( but paradoxically, feel comforted and validated....grrr) She (with her annoyingly perfect memory of everything I have EVER said in therapy) reminded me of a comment I made right back when we started, referring to peoples reactions to me. I said "Disgust is horrible, but empathy is even worse". So all in all an awkward, yucky session. BUT. I was proud of the fact that rather than shutting down the topic, I let it unfurl, to see whether anything came of it, rather than give into my panic and discomfort. Yay me! We ended with a kind of heavy feeling in the air, and (D) was worried about whether I would be ok to leave. But I thought about it and felt I would be. And in reality, I walked out the door, and was able to pretty much leave it in there, to pick up next session. Something that I have struggled to do in the past. :)
After that I had a GP appointment, and she reminded me of a test that I have needed done, and been putting off for weeks. ***************Warning: Personal Overshare of an intimate nature following, feel free to cease reading especially if you have a Y chromosome*********************************************************
Basically, I have a lot of gynaecological problems, as a result of the trauma my body has undergone.... and they are quite insistant that they want me to get this ultrasound done. Unofrtunately, this particular untrasound is nnot done externally. UGH! Aside from the fact that for anybody this is an embarrassing proposition, because of my SA history and the PTSD, I can't make it through a papsmear with my own very lovely female GP, without a buttload of aanti anxiety medication. The prospect of some ultrasound technician I don't even know, sticking something up my whoo-ha..... well to say I am freaking out, is putting it mildly. Suggestions from any of the gals out there with similar fears and how they get through it are appreciated.
So that's my day. Still all in all a pretty positive mood. I was reading Pandora's post today over at Confessions of a Serial Insomniac, and I guess she was defending (?) her particular approach to therapy and mentalism in general. And it really got me thinking. How sad it is, that with a good portion of the so-called normal population judging and misunderstanding mentalism, that we ourselves would want to attack or criticise each others approaches. Personally, I don't care if you make the journey kicking, screaming and cursing every step of the way, or frolicking along gently spouting inspirational sayings and personal affirmations. The fact that you are making your way through is what's important. And, myself, I actually like me a little sarcastic, black humoured, 'the glass isn't half empty, its smashed on the floor in a million pieces after I tried to glass the last person who told me to Let go and Let god' type approach. And I love Pandora's raw and unflinching honesty. So even though I seem to be drawing rainbows and smealling flowers at the moment, I'm still on your side, sista! I can be happy, sad, angry, downright going off my brain, but as long as I'm moving I don't care.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Back in the saddle
So after a blissful week of lying on the couch stuffing my face with chocolate and watching crappy daytime television relaxing, today I ventured out into the world. A good chance to take this happiness for a ride and see what it can do for me. I smiled at strangers on the bus, and they smiled back. Sent a warm tingle down my spine. I kind of feel like the fog that veiled me from the rest of the world is lifting. Dramatic much?
I had my first shift back at RMH and it was great. Very easy shift with lots of time to chat with the parents and play with the littlies. I was also given a bit of a project, cleaning out the playroom cupboard and making a list of toys, books etc for the house manager to buy. And we all know I love me some organising! My OCD tendencies had a chance to shine as I not only divided the books into age appropriate groupings, but then grouped them according to genre and alphabetical genre! Lol. They have already roped me into doing an extra shift tomorrow.
I called home and found out my mum's hubby got the job he was going for, which is fantastic news, as it was beginning to look like he might have to move away to find work... not great for a newly married couple. But he got the job, so they can stay settled and living close to my grandparents. He was also really sweet about the decision I've made regarding uni, and told me that he was really glad that I was sounding so good.
On the way home I swung by Grill'd, this gourmet burger franchise that I am totally in love with! The Zen Hen burger is to die for. I ran into and old work colleague and we had a little catch up which was great. He could always make me smile.
Tomorrow I have a full day, babysitting all day, straight to therapy and then straight to RMH to work the evening shift. It will be exhausting, but all fun... well apart from therapy, but its been ok recently...guess it just depends on what direction she decides to push.
I'm listening to Jason Mraz at the moment, which is beautiful and quite upbeat too, and soon I'll head for the comfort of my doona and pillow. Sleep is still remarkably good. Yay!
Peace and love
xOphelia
I had my first shift back at RMH and it was great. Very easy shift with lots of time to chat with the parents and play with the littlies. I was also given a bit of a project, cleaning out the playroom cupboard and making a list of toys, books etc for the house manager to buy. And we all know I love me some organising! My OCD tendencies had a chance to shine as I not only divided the books into age appropriate groupings, but then grouped them according to genre and alphabetical genre! Lol. They have already roped me into doing an extra shift tomorrow.
I called home and found out my mum's hubby got the job he was going for, which is fantastic news, as it was beginning to look like he might have to move away to find work... not great for a newly married couple. But he got the job, so they can stay settled and living close to my grandparents. He was also really sweet about the decision I've made regarding uni, and told me that he was really glad that I was sounding so good.
On the way home I swung by Grill'd, this gourmet burger franchise that I am totally in love with! The Zen Hen burger is to die for. I ran into and old work colleague and we had a little catch up which was great. He could always make me smile.
Tomorrow I have a full day, babysitting all day, straight to therapy and then straight to RMH to work the evening shift. It will be exhausting, but all fun... well apart from therapy, but its been ok recently...guess it just depends on what direction she decides to push.
I'm listening to Jason Mraz at the moment, which is beautiful and quite upbeat too, and soon I'll head for the comfort of my doona and pillow. Sleep is still remarkably good. Yay!
Peace and love
xOphelia
Friday, June 25, 2010
Unchartered Territory
I'm still....happy.... Go figure? And I am enjoying it, whether it heralds the beginning of a new frame of mind, or is merely a hiatus from my normal messed up self.
I'm enjoying relaxing without the threat of impending doom that usually follows me around like a little dark cloud. I am definately enjoying sleeping. 8 hours a night? How decadant! How luxurious a sleep life do you normal people have! It's awesome. I'm enjoying the energy and motivation I am finding I have now that it is not all directed into more nefarious activities like ruminating, worrying and plotting my untimely demise.
I'm not sure that my therapist quite knows what to do with a happy Ophelia. :)
It certainly does pose somewhat of a conundrum for us.
Why? Well, may you ask! Happy would seem to be something that she would encourage. And indeed she does. She has stated categorically that she wants to celebrate and enjoy this newly acquired harmony with me. But..........now that I am not floundering around like a fish on a deck gasping for air, it would also seem to be a good time to attack some of the harder 'therapy stuff', no? Now that I have a bit of balance and stable ground beneath me it would seem to be a good time, I can handle it better. But...... we also don't want to ruin this good place I'm in by miring me in that bog of horribleness. So its a hard line to toe.
My first reaction was one of "Lady! Why do you wanna go blow my mojo like that?". I'm feeling good. Why would you wanna mess with that. But, in all fairness, my argument before has definately been that I was in too bad a place to explore this stuff. So, I can't have it both ways, can I?
Well, we'll take it slowly and see how it all pans out I guess.
In other news, handover with Case Managers went well. (M) said she was going to keep (A) in the loop so I have back up at the clinic should she go away again, which is good. All in all, I think she was quite pleased with how I'm doing at the moment, so I'll catch up with her again in a fortnight. I also got lots of kudos for finishing my prac despite the difficulties, which of course made me squirm, as a) I don't really do well with praise and b) although I got good evaluations, I really don't feel in myself that I did that well. Ah, well, bygones!
And finally, I have a little cash in hand work coming up over the next fortnight, babysitting for a family over the school holidays. They're great kids and very easy to sit for. So far I've planned a few outings to activities the council is putting on, I have dug out a receipe for Ginger bread men, and I've grabbed a few craft things I had stored away... some jewellery making, oragami and clay. So, I think we're going to have a lot of fun! (Last holidays we made a volcano and I taught them how to make balloon animals, so some high expectations to fill! lol) And with the money I earn, I should be able to pay for the dentist to pull out the tooth that I broke....owies. So that's life at the moment. Weekend will consist of sleep, vegging out and consuming copious amounts of food that's bad for me, followed by my first shift back at RMH, which I am looking forward to!
Have a great weekend everyone!
Peace and Love
xOphelia
I'm enjoying relaxing without the threat of impending doom that usually follows me around like a little dark cloud. I am definately enjoying sleeping. 8 hours a night? How decadant! How luxurious a sleep life do you normal people have! It's awesome. I'm enjoying the energy and motivation I am finding I have now that it is not all directed into more nefarious activities like ruminating, worrying and plotting my untimely demise.
I'm not sure that my therapist quite knows what to do with a happy Ophelia. :)
It certainly does pose somewhat of a conundrum for us.
Why? Well, may you ask! Happy would seem to be something that she would encourage. And indeed she does. She has stated categorically that she wants to celebrate and enjoy this newly acquired harmony with me. But..........now that I am not floundering around like a fish on a deck gasping for air, it would also seem to be a good time to attack some of the harder 'therapy stuff', no? Now that I have a bit of balance and stable ground beneath me it would seem to be a good time, I can handle it better. But...... we also don't want to ruin this good place I'm in by miring me in that bog of horribleness. So its a hard line to toe.
My first reaction was one of "Lady! Why do you wanna go blow my mojo like that?". I'm feeling good. Why would you wanna mess with that. But, in all fairness, my argument before has definately been that I was in too bad a place to explore this stuff. So, I can't have it both ways, can I?
Well, we'll take it slowly and see how it all pans out I guess.
In other news, handover with Case Managers went well. (M) said she was going to keep (A) in the loop so I have back up at the clinic should she go away again, which is good. All in all, I think she was quite pleased with how I'm doing at the moment, so I'll catch up with her again in a fortnight. I also got lots of kudos for finishing my prac despite the difficulties, which of course made me squirm, as a) I don't really do well with praise and b) although I got good evaluations, I really don't feel in myself that I did that well. Ah, well, bygones!
And finally, I have a little cash in hand work coming up over the next fortnight, babysitting for a family over the school holidays. They're great kids and very easy to sit for. So far I've planned a few outings to activities the council is putting on, I have dug out a receipe for Ginger bread men, and I've grabbed a few craft things I had stored away... some jewellery making, oragami and clay. So, I think we're going to have a lot of fun! (Last holidays we made a volcano and I taught them how to make balloon animals, so some high expectations to fill! lol) And with the money I earn, I should be able to pay for the dentist to pull out the tooth that I broke....owies. So that's life at the moment. Weekend will consist of sleep, vegging out and consuming copious amounts of food that's bad for me, followed by my first shift back at RMH, which I am looking forward to!
Have a great weekend everyone!
Peace and Love
xOphelia
Friday, June 18, 2010
Home Sweet Home
Finished up my prac yesterday, and got back to hometown a few hours ago.
First, can I say, how absolutely proud I am of myself for finishing out this prac and managing to stay somewhat 'together' for the month's duration of absence from home. Made infinitely harder by being surrounded by my family (I went back to childhood hometown for my prac) and barely having a minute of space and time to myself. Very challenging. There was a time I would have crumbled completely. Sure, I stumbled a bit... but in the end, I sucked it up and got the job done. So I feel ok about giving myself a wee pat on the back. My evaluation was quite good....they offered me a job when I graduate. A good compliment indeed, but living permanently around my family?..... Hell to the Naw! They also gave me a little morning tea send off and a box of choccies which was lovely. And my little poppets from the Special Ed unit made me feel very loved, letting me know that they would miss me. :) This was my first prac since taking up my third specialty in Special Education... but my experience has really cemented the fact that this is the area of Education where my passion lies.
Now, back on the homefront. My mum and her husband drove me back this evening (legally cannot drive anymore because of epilepsy). They are staying the weekend. As is older sis (again!) The thing is she doesn't even ask if she can stay. She just assumes its her god given right. OK. I can put up with that. Grit my teeth and deal. But after a month away, needing to come back to my own house and decompress. Especially given the fact I have a HUGE assignment due on Monday. I do NOT need to come back to her stomping around sulky and throwing narky, passive aggressive comments out. So, I did something I rarely ever do...I snapped and had a go at her. Usually I will avoid conflict by any means... it truly takes a lot to make me yell. My therapist (an many many others before her) have opined that I took on the role of mediator and sacraficial lamb in my family. I have been taught that my needs are less important than keeping the harmony, and basically it was my job to give in and not rock the boat, especially when it came to my older sister. The thing is, for so long we have let her get her way to avoid conflict, that we have created a monster. A narcassistic, drama queen, who constantly places herself in the victim role and has no trouble manipulating the truth in order to put herself there. Nothing is ever her fault, woe is me, oh how hard done by she is....blah blah blah.
Well, today, I am not playing. I have held myself together over the last month, now is the time for me to rejuvenate and have some time to just be authentic and true to my needs, rather than having to supress them for the greater goal. Which is basically what I told her (OK, yelled at her). Basically the gist was, she is full of shit, and never lets the truth get in the way of a good story, and she needs to stop playing the victim, or find somewhere else to play violin. Because I'm done. My house, my needs first. Somewhat, diluted by the fact that I then went and spent the evening in my room, because I was too uncomortable to be out in the living room. Sigh. I think its somewhat therapist (D's) fault. Yesterday, I had my phone appointment with her. My sister, was scheduled to take me over to my grandparents to take the call, but she did not end up taking me until 10 minutes before the appointment. I got there just as the phone was ringing, with a stomach full of anxiety knots about being late. (D) theorised that given Big Sis's history of being unable to handle any situation where I may deflect the attention off of her or be getting a little love and support, causing her to have to pull off some bullshit crisis, to return the attention where it 'rightfully' belongs.... that maybe she was intentionally trying to sabotage a connection to someone who would give me support and care (AKA D). I don't know really, but it was certainly a case of the whole world revolves around her, and I, and (D) should just wait and go by her schedule. Anyway, (D) did her validating thang, and spoke about how I shouldn't have to push my needs aside for Big Sis's all the time, blah blah blah....and somewhere in my head it actually stuck. Hence my attempt to stand up for myself and place boundaries. The thing is, as good as it feels....its like a night on the booze...feels good at the times, but the repercussions are going to suck in the long run.
Later in the night, I overheard Big Sis, whinging to mother about how she hadn't said anything back depsite my irrational and unfair 'attack' one her (could that be, because I called you out, and you realise you don't have a f*cking led to stand on, huh?)....wah...wah...back to trying to place herself back in victim role. A converstion she wanted me to hear, as she had it right outside my bedroom door. I went to my mum and basically gave her the heads up, that I'm not putting up with it this weekend, and Big Sis better keep her mouth shut and drop the attitude tomorrow or she can find somewhere else to go.
Sigh. I have a feeling things are going to go to hell tomorrow...you're damned if you do, damned if you don't
Leaving on a positive note......I am thrilled to be home. And will be up and bloggin more now. And I am gradually catching up on all your blogs (still about 500 posts on google reader to trawl through...lol)
Peace and love
Ophelia
First, can I say, how absolutely proud I am of myself for finishing out this prac and managing to stay somewhat 'together' for the month's duration of absence from home. Made infinitely harder by being surrounded by my family (I went back to childhood hometown for my prac) and barely having a minute of space and time to myself. Very challenging. There was a time I would have crumbled completely. Sure, I stumbled a bit... but in the end, I sucked it up and got the job done. So I feel ok about giving myself a wee pat on the back. My evaluation was quite good....they offered me a job when I graduate. A good compliment indeed, but living permanently around my family?..... Hell to the Naw! They also gave me a little morning tea send off and a box of choccies which was lovely. And my little poppets from the Special Ed unit made me feel very loved, letting me know that they would miss me. :) This was my first prac since taking up my third specialty in Special Education... but my experience has really cemented the fact that this is the area of Education where my passion lies.
Now, back on the homefront. My mum and her husband drove me back this evening (legally cannot drive anymore because of epilepsy). They are staying the weekend. As is older sis (again!) The thing is she doesn't even ask if she can stay. She just assumes its her god given right. OK. I can put up with that. Grit my teeth and deal. But after a month away, needing to come back to my own house and decompress. Especially given the fact I have a HUGE assignment due on Monday. I do NOT need to come back to her stomping around sulky and throwing narky, passive aggressive comments out. So, I did something I rarely ever do...I snapped and had a go at her. Usually I will avoid conflict by any means... it truly takes a lot to make me yell. My therapist (an many many others before her) have opined that I took on the role of mediator and sacraficial lamb in my family. I have been taught that my needs are less important than keeping the harmony, and basically it was my job to give in and not rock the boat, especially when it came to my older sister. The thing is, for so long we have let her get her way to avoid conflict, that we have created a monster. A narcassistic, drama queen, who constantly places herself in the victim role and has no trouble manipulating the truth in order to put herself there. Nothing is ever her fault, woe is me, oh how hard done by she is....blah blah blah.
Well, today, I am not playing. I have held myself together over the last month, now is the time for me to rejuvenate and have some time to just be authentic and true to my needs, rather than having to supress them for the greater goal. Which is basically what I told her (OK, yelled at her). Basically the gist was, she is full of shit, and never lets the truth get in the way of a good story, and she needs to stop playing the victim, or find somewhere else to play violin. Because I'm done. My house, my needs first. Somewhat, diluted by the fact that I then went and spent the evening in my room, because I was too uncomortable to be out in the living room. Sigh. I think its somewhat therapist (D's) fault. Yesterday, I had my phone appointment with her. My sister, was scheduled to take me over to my grandparents to take the call, but she did not end up taking me until 10 minutes before the appointment. I got there just as the phone was ringing, with a stomach full of anxiety knots about being late. (D) theorised that given Big Sis's history of being unable to handle any situation where I may deflect the attention off of her or be getting a little love and support, causing her to have to pull off some bullshit crisis, to return the attention where it 'rightfully' belongs.... that maybe she was intentionally trying to sabotage a connection to someone who would give me support and care (AKA D). I don't know really, but it was certainly a case of the whole world revolves around her, and I, and (D) should just wait and go by her schedule. Anyway, (D) did her validating thang, and spoke about how I shouldn't have to push my needs aside for Big Sis's all the time, blah blah blah....and somewhere in my head it actually stuck. Hence my attempt to stand up for myself and place boundaries. The thing is, as good as it feels....its like a night on the booze...feels good at the times, but the repercussions are going to suck in the long run.
Later in the night, I overheard Big Sis, whinging to mother about how she hadn't said anything back depsite my irrational and unfair 'attack' one her (could that be, because I called you out, and you realise you don't have a f*cking led to stand on, huh?)....wah...wah...back to trying to place herself back in victim role. A converstion she wanted me to hear, as she had it right outside my bedroom door. I went to my mum and basically gave her the heads up, that I'm not putting up with it this weekend, and Big Sis better keep her mouth shut and drop the attitude tomorrow or she can find somewhere else to go.
Sigh. I have a feeling things are going to go to hell tomorrow...you're damned if you do, damned if you don't
Leaving on a positive note......I am thrilled to be home. And will be up and bloggin more now. And I am gradually catching up on all your blogs (still about 500 posts on google reader to trawl through...lol)
Peace and love
Ophelia
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Bleurghy has mostly gone
Appointment with BabyPsychDoc went as I had hoped yesterday. They have taken me off Effexor and put me on to Celexa. Still a wee bit nauseaus and dizzy, but nowhere near the horrible vertigo I have experienced for the previous week. I'm to call her tomorrow to let her know how the Cymbalta is going as it is an SNRI (?) too. Missed therapy yesterday morning as I just would not have been able to navigate my way across town. Was going to take bus to Mental Health Clinic in the afternoon (literally like 500m from my house, but up a big hill, and the bus stops right outside my door and practically outside their's.) but Case Manager (M) called me, and when she heard how I was doing offered to come and pick me up for the appointment, which was great. The reason for her call, not so great. I have known for a fortnight now, that she is going on two month's leave, and she rang to arrange a time at my house tomorrow so I can meet her replacement (A). I am assured by everyone that (A) is lovely. She is an OT not a psychologist, but I am not sure how much difference that makes from a case management point of view. But I am often not good at opening up with new people, and trust is a huge issue for me, so the change will be....somewhat unsettling. Added to this my therapist (D) is away next week too, and BabyPsychDoc (Dr F) is on nights, I am left feeling somewhat bereft of my normal supports for those little crisis moments. But chin up, (K) is still around, and (D) will be contactable by phone.....and (A) well, I'll withhold judgement till I meet her. In other good news, my Group sessions on Wednesday's is going really well, and I am starting to feel a real cohesiveness with the group. Me, catergorically, not being a "Group" person. But there is a real sense of acceptance for who you are, and whatever state you may be in at that time. It is a shame it is so short in duration really.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Day Two on Effexor
Day two of my second attempt at Effexor. Still getting pretty bad vertigo, mild nausea. But will just follow BabyPsychDoc's advice and push through until our appointment on Tuesday, to see whether it abates. Sometimes drugs just have some yucky side effects while your body adjusts, I guess. Unfortunately, vertigo is competing with my still slightly manic-y mood, and with dental pain mostly abated, I set about cleaning the house, if somewhat staggeredly (yup, I making up words, just like Shakespeare). So the house is in perfect order, which is always nice to come back to after you go away for a few days. I also cleaned lil sis's room, just tidied stuff away, vacuumed, made her bed and did her laundry. Obviously, I stayed out of her drawers etc because I wouldn't like someone invading my space like that... I hope she doesn't mind, and is just happy to have a tidy room to come home to too. I just can't help myself at the moment. Everything has to be done. And it has to be done NOW,
Anyways, leaving early in the morning for hometown, not sure how much internet access I will have over the next few days. Mum (who is a registered nurse) wants to take me up to the hospital she works at to get my blood pressure checked. Just to see if that is what really is causing the vertigo...you know mums! But should be able to get in and out pretty quick, small country hospital, very slow and of course a dash of nepotism chucked in. Not sure I'll be up to the races though. Probably just spend a bit of time hanging with my gran, she has been pretty down lately. Am also excited to be able to grab some cuttings for my newly established gardens.
As for all the stuff from yesterdays blog, well, have decided to just let it go, and worry about it only if it becomes a more frequent occurance. Am looking forward to a break away, and have enjoyed the min break from therapy thus far....but also feels quite odd...like I am in therapy withdrawal or something!
Happy Easter to All
Anyways, leaving early in the morning for hometown, not sure how much internet access I will have over the next few days. Mum (who is a registered nurse) wants to take me up to the hospital she works at to get my blood pressure checked. Just to see if that is what really is causing the vertigo...you know mums! But should be able to get in and out pretty quick, small country hospital, very slow and of course a dash of nepotism chucked in. Not sure I'll be up to the races though. Probably just spend a bit of time hanging with my gran, she has been pretty down lately. Am also excited to be able to grab some cuttings for my newly established gardens.
As for all the stuff from yesterdays blog, well, have decided to just let it go, and worry about it only if it becomes a more frequent occurance. Am looking forward to a break away, and have enjoyed the min break from therapy thus far....but also feels quite odd...like I am in therapy withdrawal or something!
Happy Easter to All
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