Lost in notation blog

Day 144 – Part II of the shrink

May 26, 2010 at 8:11 pm (bipolar, Charity, Counselling, Depression, Donations, dresses, Fairy God Mother, Gifts, Health care, Inspirational women, mental health, Mummys, NHS, photography, Style, Uncategorized) (http://www.boden.co.uk/en-GB/Womens-Clothing.html#nav)

Armed with a lot of tears and frustration I had pretty much decided by the time I walked into the psychiatrists office today that I did not want to be on the same tablets any more.  As far as I can tell they are not working and as I only see him every six weeks it is hard to tell him this.

One of the most frustrating things about this latest diagnosis is that so far it has been treated only medically, previously I’ve had counselling but what with being out of work for so long I haven’t been able to afford it myself so far and I haven’t got the heart to ask my parents to fork out like they have in the past, it’s not up to them and it wouldn’t be fair.  They tell me there is a CPN who will see me to discuss coping techniques but though I have called her and left messages I have never heard back and so I keep getting discharged from the team.  One would expect a formal discharge would only happen once the person is  better or at least able to cope better than before but you would be wrong.  People have said in the past this quick fire discharge helps their figures but maybe its more simple, maybe they just don’t care or simply don’t have the time so let a few slide along the way.

The last time I went in to see The Shrink I felt a little overwhelmed by how quickly it was over and as I am always in a bit of a state when I go there I asked my mother if she could come in to the room with me.  It sounds pathetic but sometimes its just good to have someone there on your behalf who can say the words that have been in your head for weeks but just don’t  come out when they need to the most.  The last time I came here I admitted I was sleepy and tearful a lot of the time and was taken off duloxetine to try something new.  Today when my mother admits that I am still half asleep when I leave the house he says he will take me off the tablets he put me on before.

Its all going very fast and I feel as though I have no part in this and I’m crying but I just wish I could take control.  Thankfully my mother is a former English teacher and her negotiating skills are such that I sometimes wonder whether she missed out on a calling as a peace keeper.  Her voice rings out clear bringing the ball firmly back into our court.  If I had been alone in here I would probably have walked out of the room with a different anti depressant another referral to the elusive CPN and a feeling of utter frustration that I failed to fight my corner.  It is not The Shrink’s fault but I am a wisp of myself at the moment and one of the things I wanted to get across is how hard I am finding it to connect with people.  Unfortunately I am failing to connect with him as I am crying too much and am too busy hunting out tissues to properly convey how dreadful I’ve been feeling.  By the time my mother has intervened carefully explaining what I have said there is an agreement that I need something other than just medication and a firm decision to take me off the quetiapine.  I am relieved but terrified as this means the start of yet another drug and all I want to do is flush the whole lot down the toilet.

The whole experience is exhausting and when I walk out of there I am so frustrated I can’t stop crying.  In spite of the tears I am grateful because if it wasn’t for my mother we would have got nowhere and I feel for those who come here alone.

Though it seemed like a bad thing when I was booked, visits to The Shrink generally involve travelling a good twenty miles in traffic to get to the hospital.  It works out in my favour as it gives me an extra thirty minutes to stop the tears and reapply the make up. By the time I get to work I have sectioned off all thoughts of the appointment and if I can just get through the day without crying I can pretend I am just like everyone else.

• The dress is from Boden and is beautiful.  My godmother gave it to me and it is so bright and cheerful it helps me in my great pretence.  I feel dreadful though and I can’t stand the way I look at the moment, in anything.  If I could I’d hide myself in baggy jeans and a jumper and these photos would never see the light of day.