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Posts Tagged ‘crying

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.

Short Pause…

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It’s been 10 days since I last posted. Each time I keep thinking I should start writing more often again, but it doesn’t seem to happen. The gaps seem to get larger, not smaller.

I often think of things I want to write about, but I don’t seem to translate those thoughts into posts. I wanted to write about the NHS when the #welovetheNHS campaign was in full swing, but now I can’t really remember what I wanted to say and the moment has passed.

The last week or so has been up and down. A phrase I say so often.

I went to my parents for a few days last weekend. On Monday my sister, the dog and I trecked over to Porthcawl for the day. It was lovely weather and we enjoyed a splash in the sea, some fish and chips and icecream. Not a bad day really.

Tuesday involved bringing the dog home on the train. It was stressful, but we managed to get back safely. She slept a lot of the way taking up most of the aisle.

I saw Dr G on Wednesday. She increased the Lamotrigine again. I’m now on 125mg Mane, 100mg Nocte. Again it was an increase I expected. She is increasing the Lamotrigine by 25mg every 2 weeks. I wonder if it’s worth seeing her each time or if I’d be better off asking her to give my GP the instructions to increase it, thus saving myself some money. Seeing her every 1-2 weeks is not cheap.

I can’t remember what else we talked about. I remember her telling me she still thought it was too early for me to go back to work. Disappointment and relief. Disappointment that I am not well enough to go back. Relief that I don’t have to make the decision yet and that I am not being forced to go back too soon.

My social worker is still useless. I saw her on Thursday after forgetting I was meant to see her on Tuesday. She turned up at my house and I was at my parents 140 miles away. I guess that makes me useless too.

Anyway, we talked for a little while. She asked me if I’m interested in the creative remedies therapy group and the “positive thoughts” group. She’d forgotten to bring the information again so I’m not entirely sure what I’m letting myself in for. I agreed to both though so we shall see what happens. I’m pretty skeptical about the positive thoughts one. She said it’s simplified CBT, which rings alarm bells, especially as I’ve done non-simplified CBT in the past. I have visions of us sitting in group having to repeat affirmations. The groups are meant to start in September.

J came up with excuses about her failure to complete the referrals so far saying that the problem is she’s useless at doing paper work. More alarm bells ringing when she said that. I’m sure form-filling must be a huge part of her job so I wonder why she’s doing it if she can’t be bothered. I hope she does the referrals but I’m not holding my breath.

She also told me she’ll be with me at my psychiatrist’s appointment in September. I don’t want her to be, but I guess I have little choice. I’d rather I was on my own. I generally find I’m more comfortable with the psychiatrists and I have no trust in her at all, so I think I will find it hard to be open.

She didn’t think my appointment was with Dr B because the time doesn’t correspond to one of her clinics. I’m not surprised at that, but still a little disappointed. She did say who she thinks it will be but I can’t remember his name. Apparently he’s quite new and she doesn’t know what he’s like, which is a little worrying, but I get the impression that is quite normal with the NHS.

The rest of the time lately has been littered with arguments and random drops in mood. Friday evening was difficult. After a long argument with my partner I became hysterical and couldn’t stop crying. I find myself wanting us to break up and these episodes only make that wish stronger. I don’t know how we can carry on like this. The arguments are frequent and pointless. They just hurt us both and make life so difficult. I want to isolate myself from it all. It fuels my desire to not be here.

Earlier today I read this post on mentalnurse.org.uk. It talks of the anger at being saved from suicide. I still feel that anger and unlike Torah, I am not pleased to not be dead. I still wish that I had not been saved. I remember the disappointment of waking up and knowing I’d failed. I remember people asking me if I was glad to be alive and thinking they were insane. I still don’t understand how they could ask that. I didn’t make the decision lightly. I knew I didn’t want to be here anymore and failing to complete my plan did not change that decision. It’s still not changed that decision. I still want to be dead.

That’s not to say my suicidal ideation has not lessened. A few months ago I was constantly actively suicidal. Always thinking of plans, always looking for the next opportunity, always battling the thoughts. Now my thoughts come and go, but they are still a frequent annoyance. I have moments when the thoughts lessen, but I am never glad to be alive. Most of the time I’m still wishing I was dead.

I do not see the point in life, nor the appeal. I don’t understand anyone who is glad to be alive. I see life as a long hard battle with no positive outcome at the end. I don’t see why anyone would put themselves through that for any longer than is really necessary.

I don’t know what will come of these thoughts. I have managed to resist over the past 6 months, but I do not know how long I can keep this up. I have been kept safe for most of that time, unable to act when I have most wanted to. That supervision will of course continue while I still harbour the desire to be dead. I wish it wouldn’t but know I can’t stop them. There is anger there of course. An annoyance that I am not in control of my own life. I understand their reasons though and I know I have no choice but to comply. I just wonder how long for.

I wish that things will change. I wish I could find a zest for life. I wish that I could see a point to it all. I wish that there was enough hope to keep me going.

I find myself wanting to force the change, but I can only see one option for that and I know it’s not the one that everyone else desires. I worry that I will take that option regardless. Suicide is always the fall back position. My trapdoor to escape all of this.

Trichotillomania…

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This is interesting. I have pulled my hair for so long I can’t remember not doing it. It’s something I’ve always been ashamed of, but don’t seem able to stop. My partner can never understand why I do it even when he tells me not to. It is something that gets worse when I’m stressed or feeling low, but is such an ingrained habit it is there when I’m well too. I really do wonder if there is a magic pill that could stop me and if so, why haven’t I been given it yet?

Aside from that, today I saw Dr G with my bloke and therapist. It was strange having the four of us in Dr G’s little room. I felt quite intimidated and overwhelmed and it didn’t take me long to start crying from the stress of it all. We talked about how I need to be more open about things, something that has been repeatedly a topic for discussion, but something I find very difficult. I often think I don’t want to be open and honest about how I feel. I don’t want people to panic and I don’t want to be helped. If you’re feeling really suicidal, the last thing you want is everyone to know so they can stop you. I don’t see how I can break that barrier to openness.

Yesterday I finally met my CMHT worker, J. She’s a social worker, not a CPN, which I’m slightly disappointed about. I have been told they don’t distinguish between them in our trust, but I somehow think a CPN would be more use. They’d have more understanding of my illness and what it really entails. We chatted about my life and the past year as she wants to get to know me. I don’t know if what I said was helpful but the time raced by. I wanted to ask what is going to happen to me but she didn’t seem to know. She was surprised that I hadn’t yet had been sent an appointment with the consultant so is going to chase that up. I am not sure her coming to see me is going to be that helpful but we will see. I might be able to talk to her properly eventually. I found I was being economical with the truth when she asked me how I was feeling. I couldn’t help it. I don’t yet trust her. I see her again next week.

I am seeing Dr G again on Thursday as she didn’t have time to do a medication review today. She said she’d review my sleep again, which has gone haywire since coming off the Haloperidol. I’m a little more awake during the day but not sleeping much at night. Temazepam was suggested so we shall see what she comes up with. I’m sure the Lamotrigine will go up again too. She has to titrate it up so very slowly. It’s hard being patient waiting for the increases. I just want her to stick it up to a high dose and be done with it, but I know she can’t.

Generally I feel a little empty and numb. I am just carrying on because I have no choice, but it’s hard. I don’t want to.

Yo-yo…

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I’ve been up and down like a yo-yo this week. Since the crash back down last weekend I was up again Sunday night and quite hypomanic, giggling unnecessarily and unable to sleep. Monday was a slightly more even day before a complete meltdown on Tuesday. I was highly emotional, stressed out, suicidal, angry, hyper and generally out of control. I couldn’t control the agitation or my emotions and ended up crying and laughing hysterically. It was almost as if I just couldn’t cope with the tension that was mounting inside me and I didn’t know what to do, so my mind and body went totally crazy. I was all over the place, felt really out of control and generally not in a good way.

My meltdown on Tuesday also saw me telling my other half that I wanted to break up and couldn’t cope with our relationship. I just want things to change and at the time it felt like the easiest thing to change would be for us to break up. I clearly wasn’t thinking straight (breaking up would be far from easy!), but it does scare me that when I get like that I want to push him away so much. I really was hysterical and I wonder if my out of control emotions are trying to tell me something. I don’t really know if I can cope with this relationship much longer, or rather I don’t know if this relationship can cope with this illness much longer. I suspect my doubts are just another sign of me wanting to isolate myself so it’s easier to do the deed, but I don’t know.

I find myself wanting to be on my own for many reasons. Yes, it would be the loss of another “protective factor” and would make it easier to kill myself, but I know that our relationship didn’t stop me trying in the past and when I’m in that state of mind it wouldn’t stop me again. I do want to be on my own though and not have to worry about how my behaviour affects my partner. I wouldn’t have a battle every time I want to stay in bed a bit longer because the illness is holding me there. I wouldn’t be feeling like I was a child under his control because I’d be able to go out whenever I wanted without having to ask permission. I could learn to cope with things on my own and I think that would help me to re-engage with life again. At the moment I don’t feel that I can.

There are of course many reasons to stay together and for balance I guess I should mention those too. We’ve been together a long time and been through a lot and there is no reason why we can’t get through this too. I do love him very much and although I struggle with that love a lot of the time it is still there. There are practical things like we live together, have joint bank accounts etc that make division difficult – we can’t just stop seeing each other. Generally, splitting up would not be easy even though sometimes it feels like the easy option.

Seaneen once wrote that her illness, or rather the possibility that she might kill herself, is like a lodger within her relationship and I know what she means. There’s this third person that gets in the way all the time and makes things more complicated. This illness, especially the risk of suicide, is something that intrudes on every aspect of your relationship and makes it very difficult for things to be okay. There is always going to be that fear and this means there’s an imbalance of power. For us at the moment, it feels like it’s the illness in control and the illness with all the power. I feel like the lodger is getting in the way all the time and I don’t know if we can learn to live with it. My partner just wants everything to go back to how things were before, but that just isn’t going to happen. I don’t know. I hope we can get through this in one piece, but I’m not sure it’s guaranteed.

Anyway, Wednesday was a really low day. I was getting fed up of the turbulent nature of my moods and just wished that things would sort themselves out. I had no motivation and just wanted to hide from the world. Hibernation would have been nice. Suicide would have been nicer. I just had no desire to live. I still don’t most of the time. I wonder when that is going to change.

Thursday was a day of medical appointments with me seeing Dr G and Dr N. Dr G’s appointment was fairly uneventful. She didn’t want to increase my lamotrigine again so soon as it has to be titrated up very slowly. She did however add an extra 1mg PRN to the haloperidol so I’m taking 2mg regularly now and the additional 1mg if I get agitated.

We did talk about a few practical things though. It seems I do need to notify the DVLA about my condition and it is likely my license will be taken off me. When I last asked her about it a long while ago, prior to the suicide attempt in February and my Bipolar diagnosis she told me I didn’t have to, but things have changed. I guess my condition is taken more seriously these days.

We also talked about Disability Living Allowance. Dr G says I should be receiving it. It seems I should have applied a while ago but I didn’t know. It’s a shame that it cannot be backdated either. I spent Thursday night trying to put together my application. The form is a complete bitch and took me hours and I still don’t know if I’ve told them enough to convince them that I am deserving and ill enough. It doesn’t seem very geared up for people with mental illness. Lots of questions about personal care and mobility and little opportunity to explain just how much of a bitch living with mental illness is. I just hope that Dr G and Dr N can convince them for me. I’m dreading a medical assessment as I just don’t know if I can be honest with a new doctor. I suspect I would come across as too high functioning or maybe I’ll just be so anxious I can’t speak.

My trip to Dr N was disappointingly brief, but I had little to say really. Not much has changed. He just looks at me with pitying eyes these days whilst administering the necessary prescriptions. I only realised afterwards that the haloperidol supply he’s given me only covers 5 days if I use all the PRN. I haven’t been doing, but even still that’s not ideal. I don’t want to have to go back to him too soon. I feel like I am wasting his time. It’s bad enough being on weekly prescriptions and having to waste his time seeing him every week when I don’t really have anything new to say to him.

My mood on Friday was up and down just in a day. I started the morning low, but felt better by lunchtime. I had a good afternoon with Chouette, Kate and Hannah. It’s nice to talk about things and know that they understand, but it’s also nice to chat about normal things like university and living in Manchester. In the evening I went for a meal with some uni friends and although it was nice, I was tired and struggling to engage. My mood was falling throughout and by the time I got home it was on the floor again. I had to try and keep up appearances for a little longer whilst people were around.

Afterwards, things became difficult. My partner was upset and wasn’t talking to me. I don’t know what I had done to deserve that. I felt awful and couldn’t find out what was wrong. I was exhausted and wanted to go to sleep, but couldn’t because again our relationship was struggling because of this illness. I am fed up of it.

Yesterday was a long day. I was so busy it was hard to know how I felt mood wise. I was low but distracted. I’m just glad it is over I think.

October 4th: Tell the parents…

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I really didn’t want to tell my parents. I was too scared of their reaction and had been hiding everything from them for so long I had no idea where to start. My partner tried to convince me and told me that if I didn’t tell them, he would. I realised I had no choice, so agreed that I would try and tell them. In the end, I wrote them a short letter explaining that I had been off work due to depression and was going to be admitted. I avoided the gory details, but explained some of what had happened in the lead up to my admission.

It was a coincidence that my parents were going to be in the Midlands on the Saturday, so I arranged to meet them at my sister’s new uni house. When we arrived it was strange. We just did all the normal stuff. Got shown around the new house, handed over presents and sat in her room. I was nervous and wanted to get it over and done with, but knew I had to wait until there was a suitable time.

I told my sister first. I gave her a copy of the letter and told her to read it. I told her I had something I needed to tell her and that I wasn’t pregnant. I knew that would be the first conclusion everyone would jump to. She cried lots and I didn’t know what to do. She was sympathetic, but I hated that.

Afterwards my parents came in, so we got them in the lounge and repeated the ritual. Handed over the letter and asked them to read. They were shocked. They asked some questions but mostly just exclaimed over how shocked they were. My mum went pretty quiet. They told me they’d support me, but it was just very weird. I don’t know if it was a relief. I think it must have been, but I was just so nervous I don’t think it felt like it at the time.

We went for a meal later and things proceeded as normal really. There were a few awkward questions about what I expected would happen during my admission and what the long term aims were, but generally it was okay. I was glad to escape afterwards though.

Written by intothesystem

Monday, 17th November 2008 at 7:41 pm