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!

Stuff n stuff...

Spoke to former psych on the phone this morning re: medication issue. Seems the best thing would be to begin seeing a psychiatrist again in addition to therapist, to manage medication. She quite rightly pointed out that GP's are restricted in their knowledge of medications for PTSD, and they tend to be quite rigid as far as the guidelines. (ie The dose I'm on for Lexapro is currently double the recommended dose, and GP expressed concern about that, but according to her its actually quite a common dosage for PTSD and nothing to worry about, the GP and Pharmacist believe that Avanza and Lexapro cannot be taken concurrently, and thus I would have to be 'weaned off' the Lexapro, hence the hospitalisation, but she says they quite commonly prescribe them concurrently) She also agreed with me to a certain extent, that medication has not been a particularly fruitful path in the past. End result: am more confused than ever.

I wish I could just go back and start seeing her again. I am confident in her ability and she knows my history, but unfortunately, she is in another town. In addition to this is the concern of having to pay a psychiatrist on top of the therapist... am not sure that I can manage it financially. Which means (gulp!) thinking about hooking up with the public system. Argh!

Anyway, appointment with therapist (D) in an hour, so I guess we can discuss my options there. Really don't want to go, battling the public transport at the moment seems a mammoth task, and in addition have been picking up some weird vibes from her in the last week. Not quite able to put my finger on it, and really too tired to think about it at the moment, but there is a weird tension there.

Other than that, Older sibling has departed, after her 'unannounced' one night stay, turned into a three-nighter. Managed to get my assignment in for uni yesterday, but having put a whole 3 hours effort into it, am not sure it will actually past muster. Is so hard to motivate myself to do the work, seems kind of pointless right now... but I am aware that when (if) I come out of all of this, I will be up the proverbial creek holding a paddle, if I've let things fall apart... been there, done that.

Mostly, I'd just kill to get some sleep. My eyes are achey and puffy, I look like the living dead, and my head is just full of cottonwool... I can't think straight. Its been over a month since I got more than 2 or 3 hours sleep a night...and I understand why they use sleep deprivation as torture.

Well, that's life at the moment...just stuff n stuff...