Ever Evolving

I had another post that I started writing Saturday afternoon about this but I lost the impetus and it’s just lying languidly in my drafts folder… lets hope this one gets further along.

Last Friday I had my first appointment with the new CMHT’s Consultant Psych. To say I was nervous about it is an understatement. I had such a good rapport with my old Psych that I doubted anything could match that. I had the words “Over Medicated” firmly planted in my brain and I knew this would mean playing with my cocktail, something I am loathed to do as I have such an adverse reaction to change in medication.

As is usual with my Psych appointments they were ten minutes late in starting. Is it me or is it just the system that indicates that they have to run ten minutes behind every appointment. When we (Linda and I) were called into the meeting we introduced ourselves and they (the psych and access team member) did the same. We all sat down and the Psych lets call her for the sake of ease Dr S. once we got into the room and sat down… no one sat behind a desk, it was all very “informal in a semi formal way.” Dr S stated that we would be spending an hour in this meeting, this surprised me a little as I didn’t realise that there would be that much time (as it was we went over the hour (I must have been interesting or something.)

It was a pretty standard interview type scenario. Dr S asked questions and I did my best to answer them. I am damn sure that some of my answers were wrong, as much as you can be wrong about your own life. I answered the best as I could with my limited memory. It did feel at times like she was trying to catch me out on certain questions, I’m sure she wasn’t but it felt like it. Questions like what were my experiences with Mania like. I got confused in my explanation and it made me look foolish in my eyes. I hadn’t had a psychotic “event” when I went hypomanic which apparently is the difference. There wasn’t much talk of my depressive states, which I found unusual as that is my prevalent aspect of my illness.

It was around this time that she dropped a bombshell, and in all honesty it’s why it’s taken me almost 4 days to write this. She claimed that my diagnosis could be wrong (I am paraphrasing as I don’t recall how it was put.) It turns out that I may not be Bipolar after all. She put this down to the age I was when I was diagnosed and the baseline cause (that I gave) as to when my illness kicked off. For those unsure of what I put this down too, it was work related. I was in a high Impact call centre and I felt myself getting more and more out of my depth and finally cracked.

After some consideration I can see why she would think that work stress couldn’t have triggered a diagnosis of Bipolar, but on the other hand I have spent the last 7 years researching the illness and I fit quite nicely into that bracket. Whilst saying that I could also fall into the classic Clinical Depression diagnosis too. I don’t have that many Hypomanic episodes anymore. Most of my problems fall down to depression and to some extent Psychosis. So equalling everything out who knows what my diagnosis should be. I think Dr S saw that this had worried me some and after my plucking up the balls to ask what my diagnosis should be if it wasn’t one of Bipolar, she quite assuredly stated  “I don’t know, that’s what these future assessments will be about. Let’s just say that your diagnosis is EVOLVING.”
W.T.F Evolving means I don’t know. Could I had transformed into a Schizoaffective disordered patient. I say Schizoaffective as I have been hearing voices and have visual hallucinations for the past three years and probably way before that but it’s definitely been at least three years. It’s a new minefield that I am going to have to tread very carefully through. I don’t want to start diagnosing myself with other things when it’s probably the least complicated problem and I just wind myself up even more.

The rest of the meeting was a bit of a blur. I was so fixated on not having a proper diagnosis. All the questions that ran through my head started to distract me. The main one being related to an E.S.A application form. Those bastards are just looking for a weak spot and this could possibly be it. As if I don’t worry enough about my benefits now to add this is just a total mind fuck.

The only funny thing (I mean humorously funny) is the questions about my libido and how I felt about sex. I swear I went ten shades of red and purple, at least i felt like I did, I had no idea how to answer these questions with out sounding like a sex pest or a raving Horn monster. I flustered and gave a half hearted answer about being a normal 36 year old bloke and left it at that. I know that I should have mentioned more about the subject but I didn’t talk about that with my old Psych who I had a long standing relationship with how was I supposed to op[en up to someone I met 40 minutes previously. God forbid anyone think I am a prude (FAR FROM IT) I just got tongue tied and blurted out the weakest answer possible.

Dr S asked if I had any fears… I said the usual Spiders and flying bugs (that’s my standard answer) but from out of nowhere my real fear came up. Being alone. Having mum and Linda die and leave me on my own. I have to say the thought terrifies me and whilst Mum was ill in February and it was touch and go I have to admit I had nightmares for weeks after. We had skirted around the medications I am on and how that I am taking three times more pills that anyone on her books takes, she dropped the bombshell that I should worry less about mum and Linda dying as with the amount of drugs I am on it’s more likely for me to drop dead before hand…lovely thought there Doc!

On the subject of drugs, we moved on and we discussed reducing some of prescriptions. She was very open that she didn’t want me on so many as It was unhealthy for me. To be honest as I have said before, I just took what the Psych up north gave me and gave very little thought to being over-medicated. I am a very trusting person and believe that people who have spent years training to be a Doctor should be trusted, it’s only when they make stupid OBVIOUS mistakes that I take umbridge with them. Dr S seemed to know her shit so I went along with her line of thought, in hindsight she has just done exactly what my GP tried to do when I first saw him yet I don’t bat an eye when a Psych tries to change things… must have trust issues along the way too. Before she changed anything she tested me to see if I knew what I was taking. I, surprisingly, remembered all but one of the drugs I was on and what they were for. Go me!!! Dr S asked me which drug out of Risperidone and Seroquel I thought should be altered. I had been on Risperidone for so long and Seroquel seemed to be helping somewhat with sleep at least… I think it’s still a combination of the two that is dulling down the voices in my head. I chose the oldest drug to give up as in my way of thinking, I have been on that the longest and the effects of that are probably minimal at best after years on it. So Dr S agreed that that was probably a good enough reasoning and suggested that I reduce the Risperidone gradually and increase the Seroquel gradually too. So the rough schedule is that I reduce Risperidone by  1mg for two weeks and increase the Seroquel by 100 mg and then another 100mg’s in two weeks and then over the next 4 weeks after that totally come off Risperidone and then see her again in 6 weeks, for which she gave me a slip of paper and gave me instructions to see the receptionist to make an appointment there and then. That, there, was unheard of at my last CMHT they would send for you when THEY thought it was time, often at least a month after the Psych said he wanted to see me again.

The lady from the access team (who I think was Dutch) asked me a couple of questions and then they openly conferred and recommended that I be placed on the recovery team lists as it appears that I am going to need more support over the next few months and that the Recovery team would be best placed to offer this help. They deal with all aspects of recovery and take it step by step and help you with getting out if you’re anxious and help starting the process of getting back into some kind of work routine and offer extra curricular options.. (there was a mention of a film makers course… my ears pricked up at that.)

So that was the meeting. A little over 70 minutes and far more in depth that I have written here but as I said, it’s tough when they throw curve balls at you and expect you to keep up.

After being on the higher dose of Seroquel since Sunday I have slept almost twice as much as I had in any two previous days. I am hoping my body gets it’s shit sorted soon (preferably before the next increase) as I hate sleeping the day away.

Oh dear over 1700 words I guess I remembered mo0re than I thought I did. By the way… this post (as long as it is) puts me well over 60,000 words in actual posts on this blog… a small number compared to some other bloggers but it’s a mini milestone to me. I have read books with less words…lol.

Until Next Time…

Invisible Illness and Getting Caught

I was trawling through the disability blogs this morning. I usually have about 9 or 10 new posts from various sources to read. This morning was about normal except I found a blog I read a blog I didn’t have book marked or in my Google Reader. It was Benefit Scrounging Scum. This lady is bendy in all the wrong ways. She has Ehlers Danlos Syndrome. I must admit I have heard of the illness through Twitter but haven’t really read up on what it does to some one. From what I gather it causes severe Joint pain and causes limbs and joints to pop out of their sockets at any given moment whether it’s convenient or not.

BSC, in this article ruminates on getting shopped to the DWP for benefit fraud. She is worried that because she doesn’t look ill for the entire month and can for all intents and purposes feel and look good for a few days that someone could misconstrue that she is faking it and being exactly what her nom de plume suggests. For anyone with a genuine illness that doesn’t confine you to a wheel chair 24/7, I imagine that this is something that crosses all our minds, especially when rabid dogs like the Daily Mail set about the “Work Shy” on benefits. It all stokes the fires.

For me, as I have posted a few times on this blog, I get very paranoid about being followed by the Government or by some strange organisation who are trying to catch me out for claiming benefits when I am seemingly perfectly well enough to work. I don’t want this to sound like a pity me post, that’s not what I set out to write. I just thought I’d reiterate what I had said before. With all the furore surrounding ESA and it’s introduction over the next few months and how apparently hard it is to get through the Medical, this has amplified my paranoia to such an extent that I hate going out on my own any more. Walking to the local corner shop is a gut twisting always looking behind me exercise. I am only out of the house no more that ten minutes, less if there is no one ahead of me in the shop. Being a biog fella I always end up out of breath and needing an inhaler or two once I get back. It’s not that I am that unfit it’s just that I find it hard to breath when power walking at 30 mph.

There is nothing more that I would like than to go back to work. To make more money than I get on Benefits. I have stuff I want to buy that is just out of my range being on benefits. It’s been that way for nearly three years now and to be quite frank I am seriously pissed off with my body that I don’t think I can actually take much more of it’s pissy moods and general inability to function as a regular human being. It’s maddening to to know that I have all this untapped potential that is screaming to get out but my body and more so my brain letting me down constantly.

Fuck it I have done exactly what I said I* didn’t want to do and made this all about me.

If you are one of the one who suffer with an invisible illness, (and I know this is easier said than done) but don’t let the fuckers get you down. The plain facts of the matter are that if you are claiming benefits and have been granted them on a “permanent” basis then you should have nothing to fear as you have made your case and had your medicals. The only thing you should be worrying about is how to make it through the next few minutes, hours, days. We all know that they aren’t going to make it easy on us in any way shape or form. We just have to stand strong and fight the fight when we let ourselves do that.

Until Next Time…

 

 

It’s About To Begin

This past Thursday I got the letter I had been waiting for from the local CMHT. Or at least I thought I had. On first glance it was all well and good they wanted me to phone up and make an appointment. Good  thought, then I went back over the letter and read it properly (damn my scan reading abilities.)

They wanted me to make an appointment to see “what they could do for me.” The penny then dropped for me that they know nothing about me and have obviously NOT sent for my notes from up north. So my initial fears of not getting seen by anyone properly till Easter is actually coming to fruition.

So I phoned them, they seemed very nice on the phone. I think all CMHT’s train their receptionists to be uber nice and to instil a sense of calm in patients. When i finally got put through to someone to make the appointment, I was put through to the access team. Now I don’t remember what it was really like when I first got referred to the Corby CMHT. Maybe I went through their Access team and didn’t quite realise it, but having to explain myself again after all these years is a daunting prospect. My illness has changed so much of the past 7 years that it is hard to know where to start.

I have my Care Plan from the last psych I saw but it’s a two page brief that doesn’t really say a lot about me and my Bipolar, just how I was on that particular day in that given three month period between appointments. I never think that the care plan that was sent out after each appointment was much use… now they are all I have to support my illness. Scary Eh? I guess I need to sit down and actually think of all the components of my illness and write them down so as I am not sat there umming and arring over each question. I hate making lists though… it makes it all seem so forced and premeditated. But if it helps then that’s what I need to do.

I am still waking up with the really bad lower back ache and am having to pop pain pills the first thing I do before I even have a cigarette or make a coffee. I hate pain and all that comes with it. I don’t have a real clue what’s causing it. I know I alluded to it being linked to my smoking and I will quit and then see if that helps. I know it can’t be my weight as I am still losing with the Byetta (diabetes drug.) I am going to flip the mattress on the bed today to see if that helps any.

*Jump forward a few days, It’s now Wednesday*

I never did get around to flipping the mattress and my sleep has been shot to shit ever since. I didn’t sleep at all last night and I only managed to get three hours this afternoon. I am wiped out, I just feel like sleeping for a week. I know I couldn’t do that but if just for once I could go to bed and not worry about waking up in pain it would be nice.

My mood has been all over the place. Monday I couldn’t do anything for the voices in my head screaming. One part of me felt like going out with Mum and Linda but the head said NO!. I wouldn’t have been able to handle the paranoia that would have gone with it. I haven’t had that much paranoia since I moved down here, so it was a little disconcerting.

This post is so bitty and bobby I should probably scratch it, but I have done that with about ten posts over the past couple of weeks so I am just going to post this sight unseen and pray that it makes sense to some one.

Until Next Time…

Lazy Sunday Afternoon

Well it’s not really lazy.. but it is Sunday and It is the afternoon. I guess in a vague sort of way it could be classed as lazy as I don’t have anything to do and am just sat here staring blankly at the screen. I do have stuff I could do. I have work on my Stumpfinger rebuild I could be doing but I have no motivation to do it.

The end of this week has been stressful, and kind of hard to handle. I missed two lots of morning medication this week and that has sent me on a bit of a downward spiral. Everything has made me testy and an argument with my brother didn’t help matters. I have been sat in my little corner of the dining room all alone for the majority of the weekend. It’s not healthy I know but the isolation is the only thing that stops me from getting so riled up I take it out on everyone else.

I really am starting to hate my life. I am sick and tired of feeling beaten up all the time. The point of life is becoming more and more tenuous. I am no big shot, my childhood dreams have come and gone in a haze of pharmaceutical pill popping. I am no longer able to function for a full day without needing a nap to get me through until bed time. How is that a life. How is that nothing but a bare bones existence.  This move was supposed to be a big change for everyone. So far it’s been a fucking nightmare to live through. I am still paranoid about leaving the house… alone or with people. I am running out of excuses to carry on. Nothing seems to be falling right. It’s all so fucking hard. I really wish there was an easy out, but unfortunately it all includes pain for one person or another. So I am stuck with choosing life… for now.

To make matters worse I still haven’t heard anything from the CMHT yet. Linda pho9ned the Doctor’s surgery last week and was told that the referral letter was only sent out on the 28th of January. So they must be really busy as It’s now the 20th of February and I still haven’t heard a peep from them. If I hear nothing from them in the next few days I will ring the number that is on the Doctors handy leaflet that we were given when we registered with the surgery. To be honest this isn’t filling me with much hope that these people are going top be as helpful as the Corby CMHT were. I guess we will just have to wait and see. If my mood doesn’t pick up i’ll need the crisis team before I see anyone. Such a fucking mess.

In Other distracting news:

I finally got a phone point put into the dining room so I can have the internet router in here and I don’t have to rely on the wireless card that was causing no end of static problems when I played music on the computer. Considering that I spend most of my time here at the computer having decent sounding music and radio is of most importance and the past few weeks with all the static has been most difficult. If anyone else needs a phone point installing I suggest you avoid asking B.T. to do it. Before we moved in the quoted £128 after Christmas and now we have been moved in they quoted £200. I did a quick search on yell.com and that gave me a wealth of choices in the local area. So I phoned a few and the best deal I got was with a local company who did it for £78 inc VAT. Granted they had to postpone by a day but they were good to their word as to when the rescheduled guy would be here, almost to the minute. Drills blaring at 8am aint a barrel of fun, I am sure my neighbours hate me for that. But hey I now have a phone line next to the computer and my speeds have never been faster, here or back in Corby.

I went for an eye test on Wednesday. I thought I only needed new glasses as the ones I had bought late last year were digging into the side of my head and making it very uncomfortable to wear them. We couldn’t find my glasses prescription so I went ahead and had another eye test and my eyes had only changed slightly since I last had them done so I get a new prescription and two new pairs of glasses. Hopefully these will be more comfortable. The main pair I ordered are lightweight and are plenty wide enough so as not to dig in and the second spare pair are the same size and should be OK if anything should go wrong with my main pair. I am not a fashion victim and don’t go for the designer ranges as… well basically… they are either too small (same with clothes) or too expensive (again the same with clothes.) I get the new one next Wednesday. Will maybe if you’re really unlucky I’ll post pics of them when I get them.

That’s it from me for this time.

Until Next Time…

The Mind Revolts

After my whining about feeling empty and nothing, it turns out that my brain took this as a cue to royally screw me over. I woke up at 7.30 this morning to my mobile ringing. The first reaction was to hurl abuse down the phone but then I looked at who was calling at thought

“Maybe it’s important”

All I heard was my niece and nephew playing with Daddy’s phone. Oh joy I was awake.

My head wasn’t playing straight games when I went to bed last night. I was up the latest I had been up for quite a while last night. I didn’t go to bed till 1.30 and I could have stayed up the whole night the way I was feeling. I guess I hate sleep until I am asleep and then it’s the best thing since sliced bananas on my Oats So Simple. My brain had switched into depressive mode and I was fighting the urge to relax and thought myself unworthy of getting rest. It’s something I often used to fight with. Since my sleep counselling I have been getting better but I find I am slipping back to my old ways.

I had no reason to be down. I had had a fairly relaxing evening. Mum and I watched Highlander and laughed at the obvious flying wires that were shown in the final scenes after the big battle. We love seeing little things like that it brightens up an evening seeing shit that the producers missed or were to cheap to fix. Ahh it’s all good fun.

I really don’t know where my head is going to take me over the next few days, probably some where really dark. The voices are at it again and don’t seem to happy at the moment. They seem to think that I need to get off my arse and do something more constructive…. when internal monologue ensues it usually ends up with me asking

“…Like What”

“Jump off a fucking bridge, we don’t care.. you’re fucking useless as you are at the moment.”

So you see, it’s all getting a bit crowded for me at the moment and whilst I am not actively suicidal I am getting the thoughts.

I am still waiting to be referred to the local CMHT. I would have thought I would have had a letter or something by now. It’s going to be Easter at this rate before my notes and paperwork gets moved down here. I really don’t want to see my GP about mental stuff as I fear he may try and mess with the medication, something I am not convinced a regular GP is able to do without any form of fucking things right up.I just want someone to talk to who knows what is going on and can make changes as needed. Nothing has really changed in my medication as of yet. We haven’t transferred over to the modified release Seroquel yet as we are trying to use up what we have left over from the last prescriptions we were given in Corby.

I am back from cooking and eating dinner. Come back to turn Planet Rock on and what starts playing after 5 minutes…. Hurt by Johnny Cash… now I feel fucking wonderful nothing like a pick me up. I should have turned it off because that track always puts me deeper in my head quicker than a bottle of Jack on an empty stomach. It’s over now, the song is passed and has been replaced by numerous other songs that fleet past my head and take my mind of it’s lonely misery for a while.

I hope that this mood doesn’t last too long as I really can’t be bothered with dealing with it all. It’s as anyone who has depression knows, a pain in the arse. I know that may seem like a pretty redundant thing to say but i can’t find any other way of putting it. A long protracted battle with my mind is not something this family could deal with right now. Linda is ill with what we think is a rogue strain of Flu that the flu shot we all got last October has missed and by the looks of things mum is coming down with it too. With Mums COPD she doesn’t need anything that could possibly settle on her chest and make things worse. It would just be my luck to come down with something too. I am quite possibly the worlds worst cold and flu sufferer. I try and struggle through things and then get all moany when I can’t do things. It’s all fun and games until someone gets hurt.

That’s it from me for now. Keep all the depressed people in your thoughts tonight people they are struggling and quite possibly have no where to turn and that’s just a cold lonely hole to be in.

Until Next Time…

Plodding

Hi there, it’s me again. Yep just me, hanging around doing very little.

My life at the moment is just plodding along. nothing really seems to be happening. I guess I am just searching for a reason to get out of bed in the morning. Normally I can usually find something to get excited about but for some reason the past couple of weeks have just been…..meh!!!

My moods have not varied much. Family say I am looking like I am doing well, yet I just feel empty inside. Not sad empty just a big space waiting to be filled by something a little more exciting than listening to a radio station playing endless loops of Just A Minute. Not that there is anything wrong with listening to endless loops of J.A.M it’s just I am starting to buzz in to inform Nicholas Parsons that Clement Freud hesitated and can I have a bonus point for the perfectly executed interruption to the flow of Paul Merton’s witty  repartee. Not good when you accidentally blurt out your objection out loud  when there are other people in earshot. It gets you funny looks… you know.

The highlight (or lowlight depending on your view point) today was the fact that I got my Credit Card statement and it appears that I have maxed out the credit card AGAIN. This went down well with Linda who just looked at me and walked out of the room. It’s going to take years to pay it off and who knows how long till we can start to pay off a little extra each month to help bring the balance down a little quicker. I seem to be heading back to shitsville population… Me. Again.

That was just a mindless piece of rock n roll to take your mind of the boredom this post has provoked.

I think I am going to sign off as I know I am getting no where with this and rather than blather on for another 300 words about the amazing amount of fluff that came out of my belly button in the shower yesterday I am just going to leave you with some shred of sanity.

Until Next Time…