Archive for December 2009
Backlash…
It has been a long time since I last posted. I’ve been popping onto twitter to write a few 140 character updates, but that’s all I’ve had time for. I think the amount of woe on there will suggest how things have been though.
Sadly there was plenty of backlash from the confession about my meds. I had feared it, but hoped it wouldn’t materialise. My bloke was upset. As is often the case when he’s angry, he ignored me and wouldn’t speak to me for a while and then he had a go at me. I know it is understandable that he was upset, but I get fed up of the same argument.
Apparently I don’t want to get better and my illness is all some “stupid teenage fantasy”. It seems I want to think that I’m ill so that I fit in with all my “whiny teenage girl internet friends”. He thinks that we all encourage each other to get worse and that we all want to be part of some stupid mental club. Basically, the argument always boils down to the same thing. Blogging is evil and that everyone that does so is a whiny, faking moron.
As you can imagine, this doesn’t exactly go down well. I try to argue back, but it’s pointless. I can say that I don’t choose this illness. I can say that I am definitely not trying to fit in, but that I appreciate knowing I’m not the only one going through this and the support helps. I can also say that not everyone who blogs is a teenager or a girl and that not every blog I read is about mental illness, but it makes no difference. His mind is set and he will never be happy about my blog.
As well as the argument, he tried to stop me coming on here for a while. He also banned me from meeting up with Em and Kate. We’d arranged to meet up when I had my appointment with DP before Christmas. Instead my bloke took the afternoon off work and drove me to and from the appointment so I couldn’t see them. I hate that he treats me like a child.
I find this so hard. I don’t know what I would do without this space and without the support of my readers, but I am fed up of the arguments. He makes it uncomfortable every time I try and come on here. He moans at me every time I open my laptop. He refers to twitter as “twatting”. He belittles the whole thing and doesn’t see or care how much it hurts me. I have always found the internet a great source of support and he seems hell bent on ruining that.
I’m not sure posting this is a good idea. It will probably only add fuel to the fire, especially so long after the event, but I’m still feeling the consequences. I feel guilty whenever I come on here. I feel like a naughty girl defying her parents, and it shouldn’t be like that. I wish it wasn’t.
I have other things to post about. My last appointment with DP, Christmas, the end of the year/decade… but I don’t suppose I’ll get much chance this week.
To illustrate the point, he just came over, looked at my laptop and saw I was writing. Then said “for crying out loud” and walked off. Just these little digs all the time are making it all harder.
*sigh*
Back in time…
It felt very strange to see DP again yesterday. It was like going back in time.
On my way there I was trying to remember what he looked like, but all that came to mind was the fact he was bald. When I got to the therapy centre, it took me a minute or two to recognise the building. It kinda made me realise how fuzzy my memory is of last year. I still blame ECT.
Memories started to come back though. Silly things like waiting in the kitchen until he was ready, taking off your shoes (both of us without undoing them!) and the blue sofas lined up against the wall.
We didn’t dwell on the paperwork. CORE outcome measure form and a couple of consent forms and that was it. A pleasant contrast to last week’s 50 minute form filling marathon!
Then of course he turned to me and asked me to start. I knew he would sit there in silence for the full hour if necessary, so it didn’t take me long to get going. I had taken notes with me, hoping I could update him on the last 18 months quickly without having to say anything. Sadly he wanted me to talk over things myself. I kinda knew that was coming.
I went over the main points. Last summer, The Priory, February’s overdose, ECT, Bipolar diagnosis and since. All the stuff I’ve been over a million times now. I can’t really remember, but I don’t think he said much at this point. He never did say much. I think he was a little shocked though.
The conversation moved onto what use the sessions are going to be. He seemed doubtful as to whether there was any point in working together for only four sessions. I explained the theory – that it would give me a little support in the interim and help me identify areas to work on long-term, but I am not sure he agreed. I am wondering if he just doesn’t want to work with me again. I am worried that I might have scared him off. I don’t know. I feel quite paranoid about it all.
We talked about how things are now. He asked what the current situation was care-wise, family-wise etc. I filled in some gaps. We talked about my mood too and that being what it is at the moment we got onto the question of self-harm and suicide. I think he was a little concerned and possibly a little panicked. I do wonder if he is used to dealing with this, but then surely most people in therapy have considered such things?
He pointed out that my risk level means I am a “red flag” client and he will need to talk to the EAP about whether or not we should continue. I remembered this from last time. I was a red flag last year and I’m not sure there has been a time since when that status would have been lifted. I am wondering if he is using this as a way to escape me. The other EAP therapist didn’t bring it up, but nothing has changed really when it comes to risk levels. I pointed out that the EAP were aware of my situation when they took me on this time and I hope that means it won’t be a problem, but he said he still wanted to talk to them.
He asked me about a verbal contract too. He wanted me to give my assurance that I won’t do anything to harm myself whilst I am seeing him for therapy. A repeat of the request from the EAP counsellor really. I struggled to give it, not because I have plans to do anything, but for other reasons. I think part of the reason is not wanting the added guilt. The guilt I get from wanting to break those assurances, because the suicidal thoughts are still so strong. I feel bad for even having the thoughts. I guess my reluctance is also to do with the fact I don’t trust myself any more and don’t see the point if I can break my promise. I had given my assurance to people I wouldn’t act when I made the attempt back in February and it wasn’t enough. I have assured myself enough times that I shouldn’t act, yet it wasn’t enough in the end. There have been other times though that making a promise to someone has been enough to make me think more than twice, so maybe it is worth it.
Towards the end we talked about next steps.
He thinks I should be getting more NHS support at the moment. I think he may be right, but I wonder what support there is. What point is there in the crisis team? I’m perpetually in crisis and I don’t think it would be helpful. What point is there in contacting the CMHT or asking for a urgent psych appointment? Useless social worker, J is on holiday and Dr D didn’t know what to do with me when I saw him last month anyway. What point is there in bothering Dr N any more than I already do? He has nothing more to offer me.
As we finished up, DP told me to email or text if I need to, which I am grateful for. I guess the fact he offered that option shows he cares and is trying to help. He certainly didn’t have to.
Overall the session was hard work and quite strange, but I left feeling relieved. I think it was helpful. I don’t know though. It is hard to tell.
In other news, today I had a phone call from the therapist I saw last week wondering where I was. The EAP had forgotten to contact him to say I wouldn’t be seeing him again. I wish I’d cancelled myself now, but I just didn’t know what to say. I feel bad that he was waiting for me. I hope the EAP pay him for the mix-up!
EAP Therapy…
I’m still not able to face the draft I started the other day, but here’s hoping I can try and complete a post for once.
In my last proper post I mentioned the EAP and the fact I was being referred to a therapist nearer to here. An appointment was arranged with a therapist based in Manchester and I attended last Thursday. The appointment basically consisted of CORE form filling. I knew I would have these forms to complete. I had the same forms to complete last time I used the EAP service, but I hadn’t expected them to take the whole session. I had expected the chance to at least talk a little.
The thing is, I don’t think I’d have talked given the chance anyway. I wasn’t comfortable with him and less so after completing the forms. I think he was surprised to have a client who could tick the inpatient boxes and the high risk sections. I’m not sure he knew how to deal with someone who suffers from severe mental illness as opposed to the work-place stress and occasional bereavement that he will be used to. I may have been paranoid, but it almost felt like he was scared of me. Don’t get me wrong. He seemed nice enough and I think he would have been good with his usual clients, but it just wasn’t a fit.
So. I rang back the EAP and told them I’d quite like to see someone else if possible. The original telephone counsellor had made a point of ensuring I knew I could do this before the therapist was allocated, yet I still felt like a nuisance. They got back to me though and told me they were trying someone else. The next day I had a missed call and voicemail from DP, my old EAP therapist. His number was still in my phone so I knew it was him before I’d even checked the voicemail. He had remembered me. I don’t know if that is a good or bad thing. I called him back and we made an appointment for Wednesday.
I am in two minds about seeing him again. I’d mentioned the other day that I was secretly hoping I’d be referred back to DP, but I’m now wondering if that is wise. I guess at least I know that I can talk to him. He knows some of my history (although an awful lot has happened since our last appointment!!).
I’m scared though too. When I last saw him, I was one of those work-place stress and bereavement cases that EAP therapists are used to. I was not the mentally ill patient, that has been through the system. Admittedly I was in denial about my mental illness back then. It was definitely there and I even started to enter the system as a result of our appointments, but I hadn’t tried to kill myself, been in hospital and the rest. Will he know how to handle someone with severe mental illness or will he be just as clueless as last week’s therapist?
I also looked back through the emails we’d exchanged last year. I remembered with horror that I’d sent him the URL to this blog! After our appointments had finished we’d been in touch a couple of times. I’d given him an update as to what had happened after seeing my GP and telling my bloke. I guess the fact I shared this blog with him, shows that I trusted him, but I had never expected to see him again. I don’t know if he’ll remember. Shortly after I emailed him this blog was found by my partner and I stopped writing for a while. I suspect if he did read he would have given up then.
I wonder if I should just remind him this blog exists, but I am a little scared about sharing it with a professional, especially one who will be in touch with my GP and CMHT. It would be easier than explaining things though. We only have three appointments (the one with the first guy still counts from my allocated four), so it will help speed things along.
I don’t know. We will see what happens tomorrow.
Blogging Twit…
Blogging seems to have been replaced by twitter lately. I can just about manage 140 characters at the moment, but proper blog posts are a little hard. Hence the fact I’m writing about twitter, rather than how I actually feel.
I don’t know how I feel about twitter.
When it first appeared on the scene a few years ago, I wasn’t sure about it and decided I spent enough time on Facebook. I didn’t need another site to absorb my time.
Then all of a sudden it was the next big thing and I wanted to avoid it because of the hype. I am generally adverse to hype. If a band is hyped to death I usually avoid them and the same applies to websites! I also got annoyed at the way it suddenly became this brand of innovation or a fashion statement. Join twitter and show how cool you are! I hated the celebrity culture that became attached to it too. All of this meant I pretty much avoided it like the plague and didn’t want anything to do with it.
But I’ve found that I often have things I want to add to this blog and I just don’t have the time. I thought about setting up some asides (a la Matt @ WordPress), so I can update when I have little time or if I am unable to find the words. In the end though it seemed easier to use Twitter with the WordPress widget. Add a small dose of peer-pressure to the mix and I capitulated. I think I signed up under this account in April. I don’t have a personal account and don’t think I ever will. I guess Facebook still serves a purpose for staying in touch with friends.
I barely used twitter at all in the first few months. I signed up whilst I was still in The Priory as I thought I might be able to keep things updated on my phone. Easier than typing full posts on the little qwerty keyboard of an E71. I kept forgetting twitter was there though and the arrival of a netbook meant I could update here instead.
Suddenly though over the past month my tweets have increased in frequency fairly rapidly and now I’m using it every day. I don’t know what brought about the change. Funny that my twitter frequency has increased inversely to my mood. Wonder if there is anything in that?
I guess you come around to most things in the end though. I resisted for a while but a surrender was always coming.
I seem to be collecting followers and readers now too, which is nice. I felt honoured yesterday that @MarkOneInFour plugged this blog on twitter and I certainly seem to have picked up some followers through that.
Anyway I don’t know where this is going really. I just started writing and before I knew it there was a post. I know I’m really writing this to avoid writing about how things are. They’re crap btw.
So if you ended up here through twitter. Hi!
Edit:
p.s. I seem to have developed a tic with the word “just”. I’ve just (argh!) edited out a million from this post. Maybe I can start a new trend and it will replace the awful use of the word “like” that teenagers seem to love so much these days.
p.p.s. The original version of this was rubbish! Full of mistakes and the aforementioned “just”s. A little editing was in order. I guess the (lack of) quality of writing shows how bad my concentration is right now.
Started a Draft…
…but just can’t face finishing it right now.
I am really struggling at the moment. I can’t convey how things are, because I’m not sure I even know myself. I just feel completely out of it. I can’t think straight at all and can’t concentrate.
I have plenty to write about and so much floating around in my head, but I just can’t communicate it. I struggled to explain things when I saw Dr N this morning and I’m struggling again now. I have thoughts about things I want to say. There are hundreds of half-written posts inside my head. A few already half-written on here too, but I am just not able to sort them out right now.
My head hurts. I think it’s time to hibernate.
I hope normal service will resume soon, but I’m not that hopeful. I’ll try. xx