Into the system…

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Posts Tagged ‘clarity

ESA Medical…

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I know I’m updating a lot all of a sudden, but I guess there are things I want to document this week. My talkative mood is probably helping too.

I made it to my medical this afternoon. I am so glad it is over.

I was all over the place during the interview. The doctor kept asking the same things over and over again and it was tiresome. My head was spinning, thoughts racing, agitation brewing. I kept forgetting what I had just said and found myself getting more and more worked up. I couldn’t keep still from the agitation. It didn’t help that she wasn’t following things, but I don’t know if that was me talking too fast or her being a bit slow. She kept mixing my doctors up (I know it’s complicated. I still have 2 psychiatrists!) which was getting really confusing.

She didn’t seem to ask me much about what I can and can’t do. She did ask if I got up, dressed etc (yes, with bullying from my bloke). She asked me if I went anywhere (yes, if someone takes me – I mentioned Creative Remedies). She asked me if I saw friends and socialised (sometimes). She asked about driving (no, not since October 2008).

We talked a little about my overdose in February and what happened afterwards. We talked about ECT. I told her when I’d been in hospital. We talked about my current care – The Priory and transfer to NHS, who does what. She asked me a million times if my doctors knew what I was telling her and who was most up to date with everything. I didn’t know why she was asking that so much. Maybe so she knows whether to trust any information she gets from them or so she could check up on what I was saying?

She kept asking me about suicidal thoughts. She wanted to know why I hadn’t tried again if I still experience the thoughts. She asked me literally 30 times if I had any active plans, maybe even more. She seemed quite concerned when I was honest about the extent of my thoughts, even though I have no real means or firm intention to act at the moment.

I was forced to talk about anger and violence. I couldn’t deny that it has been a problem of late, but I didn’t want to be seen as “dangerous”. I felt so uncomfortable talking about it.

We talked about mood. I found it hard to convey what it is really like. I told her about the current agitation and how this is a fairly new development. She suggested the agitation could have been caused by anxiety about the appointment. I didn’t think it was and denied it at the time, but since I’ve thought about it some more I think it may well have contributed. I really was all over the place whilst I was in there and anxiety must have been exacerbating the situation. I tried to describe the aching, dull, flat, numbing depression that has lingered on and off for ages. I tried to describe the mixed agitated depression that is often a problem. I don’t think I succeeded on any account.

I mentioned that my partner had given up his job to care for me and she asked me about this. Is he with me all the time? How often does he leave me on my own? Who does what in the house? Do I ever go out on my own? etc. etc.

When we went over my meds, she seemed surprised that I am taking melatonin and even asked if it’s a hospital-only prescription. Considering melatonin can be bought over the counter in the US, it does make you wonder why it is so reluctantly used over here. The CMHT seemed surprised too.

At one point towards the end, she left the office to go ask her colleague something and I couldn’t help but burst into tears. I’d been holding myself together up until then, but the stress of it all tipped me over the edge. I don’t know what it was as I barely ever cry these days. Girlie hormones probably aren’t helping at the moment, but even still it seemed ludicrous. Unfortunately she came back in whilst I was trying to pull myself together and then asked me a million questions about why I was crying. I was worried she would think I was putting it on for effect or something. I genuinely couldn’t help it, but was so embarrassed and paranoid about it.

Although she asked me a million questions I don’t know if she has got anywhere near enough information. Most of the stuff didn’t seem to be very relevant to whether or not I can work. Maybe she was just nosy? I guess that’s her job.

I cannot convey how erratic the whole appointment was. Questions were being fired in all directions and I was so mixed up I couldn’t answer her. My sentences were blurring into one. I was jabbering on and on and going off on tangents. I didn’t say half the things I should have. I was not clear at all. I’ve been going over things in my head since, trying to make sense of it all. Trying to work out her intentions and what she was thinking and asking. I know I should just forget about it and wait for the results, but my head is just looking for things to think about.

One thing I have noted is the clear effect of stress. I was anxious and stressed by the situation and I could not deal with it at all. I was turned into a whirlwind of agitated confusion. I’m just thinking about work and similar situations where I have to answer questions and think about what I’m saying. Conference calls for example. There is no way I can handle one at the moment. It’s okay doing that with a doctor that is trained to deal with it, but it is not okay to talk like a madwoman in front of your boss.

In some ways my inability to deal with the situation may stand in my favour. I suspect now I probably came across quite mad. After all, I need her to think I am too ill to work. The problem is, I think I may have come across *too* mad. I was incapable of answering her questions and I’m worried I may have messed up in some way. I’m worried I didn’t answer things clearly enough or that I missed things out. I am paranoid that she was trying to catch me out. I’m really worried she will think I was putting it on or making things up. I wasn’t, but I wasn’t “myself” either and that could be problematic.

Afterwards I was tired and didn’t really want to do anything. The session took it out of me and I needed processing time. Kinda like therapy actually. I guess it was similar in that I had to talk a lot about how I was feeling and what has happened.

Unfortunately I wasn’t really given that processing time as my bloke wanted me to do stuff. He forced me to clean my car, which took ages at it was filthy. As I’m not driving at the moment my lovely little car spends most of its time sat on the drive. It has been sat still so long that green slime was growing on all the window seals. Not good. It’s looking better now, but there are still bits that aren’t quite there.

My thoughts are still racing. I walked the dog this evening and I thought that would help calm me down but it hasn’t. I was distracted thinking about the medical, work, suicide, random pointless stuff, everything. I have music spinning around in my head on top of everything else. The “We buy any car” advert is driving me mad… we buy any car, we buy any car, any, any, any, any, we buy any car… Make it stop, please!!

I suspect I won’t be updating quite so much in the next few days. Nothing is happening. We are taking the dog to a breed show on Sunday, but that is all I can think of. I will see Dr N sometime at the end of next week. I have Creative Remedies too, but nothing unusual or exciting coming up.

A Little Shaky…

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Just a short post from me today as I’m posting from my mobile.

Yesterday, I had my appointment with Dr N. Afterwards I was left more confused and clueless than beforehand. The NHS are hopefully going to provide community support and work with The Priory but at the moment nothing seems to be organised and neither party knows what the other is doing. I was left panicking that I will be left on my own with no support. There is only one possible outcome if that happens.

Today, things are more positive. I saw Dr G and she reassures me that things are in hand. She wants everyone to work together but is aware that may not be possible or straightforward. If things don’t work out as hoped she is sure something else can be arranged that will give me some support. I just hope she is right.

My past experience of NHS mental health services, or rather my trust have been shaky at best. Dr G assures me that her experiences with them have only been positive so I hope that with her on board then maybe mine will be too. Time will tell.

As for shakiness. The Depakote seems to have given me a tremor. I can’t control my hands and it is making typing this post on my phone harder than normal. I feel a little dodgy in general today. Dr G said that is to be expected as my meds are being tweaked so much, but it still sucks. I’m coming off the Duloxetine now. Still on amitriptaline. Reducing my aripiprazole and adding the Depakote. It’s no wonder is it? No other side effects seem to be a problem so far with the Depakote but it’s early days.

Aside from talking about NHS involvement, we also talked about my diagnosis and it is confirmed as Bipolar II disorder. I am glad to have Dr G agree with Dr P and make things clear for me, but it is still sinking in. I don’t really know how I feel. I need to think about it some more. The clarity is positive though. Maybe it will bring about a better route in terms of treatment. Things have to improve. They can’t continue to be as hopeless as they have been.

Anyway. I should stop rambling. More soon…

Clouds and Clarity…

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Thursday and Friday were difficult days. I haven’t felt so low and so strange for a long time. I can’t remember when I last felt like that, although I know I have before. It’s just depression in that sense is often forgotten. You cannot remember how bad it feels in between the darkest moments. I was lost in a storm cloud of depression. It was strange. I was so fuzzy,  numb, vague. I was walking through treacle, with a heavy head. I felt almost detatched from my head because it was so heavy. It was like I was carrying this bowling ball around on my shoulders. I sat in therapy and stared through people. I couldn’t take anything in or concentrate on the words floating past my head. I couldn’t concentrate on the others in group, just vague shapes sat around me. I walked back from the hospital in a daze, not noticing anything around me or where I was going.

I saw Dr N on Friday. I couldn’t tell him how I felt. I couldn’t explain the darkness inside me. He just thought it was the come-down from my holiday. He noticed the clarity had gone, but was glad I was not agitated. He almost seemed pleased that I was subdued. Maybe they really do all just want us medicated into zombies? I had hoped he would see that there was something wrong and hoped he could suggest something, suggest a fix. Of course, he is powerless, with Dr G in charge, but I still felt disappointed.

The fog has remained around over the weekend, but wasn’t as bad as Thursday. I managed to break through it at times, but it was a struggle. I kept floating off inside my head as I couldn’t break through all the mist. I couldn’t really concentrate on much. I find it frustrating. Agitation may be tiring, but I miss the productivity. I just feel heavy and leaden at the moment. I have no motivation.

I am frustrated again. I am still disappointed. I feel like I am letting everyone down. I am not doing as I should. I should be better by now. The therapy and the medication should be working. I should be feeling happy. I should be back at work. I should be productive. I shouldn’t need The Priory anymore. I feel like the one that is breaking the mould. The one that is letting the side down. Everyone else is getting better. Everyone else is on the road to recovery and I just seem to be on the road to further illness. Everyone thinks that I am making progress and that I am getting there, but they don’t know how bad I still feel.

I go backwards, not forwards. I hit brick walls and I do not want to break through them. I want to give up and I want to opt out. I take my meds and I see no improvement. I am frustrated by it all. I am ashamed by my lack of improvement. I am ashamed by the fact I am still ill. I am ashamed that I don’t feel up to returning to work. I just don’t know when this will all change. I feel like a broken record. I’m sorry.