#I’m not sick I’m literally just trying to sort my meds out with my GP so it’s not a drama every 3 months

[fairy-grotto]

Trying to convince my employers to let me work from home has once again proven far more difficult than it should be.

[chasing-rabbits]

Another life update that no one asked for nor wanted...so in todays episode of what else could go wrong. I feel like I’m in some kind of really bad dream right now as if I’m on a real life hell and the devil is just toying with me right now. First my Granddad in Spain gets sick has a major heart attack survives but told if he has another one he will die. Then he gets Sepsis from the nurse mishandling him after his dialysis and not following procedure this then nearly kills him literally. He just gets over all that and is some what regaining control again he has physio he’s more able to do things like wash and bathe himself he can cook for himself etc he’s in a wheelchair but he can do these things where as he was needed nurses to come in to their house to help with his care before. So ultimately an improvement then my Granddad over here in England gets sick turns out he’s had a heart attack & had one’s prior to this before without realising. He has permanent heart damage, AF & diabetes. He was in hospital for two weeks then due to a miscommunication error from the heart specialist at the hospital and his GP they fucked up his Warfarin dose to the point when they were measuring w/e they were at his GP’s surgery their machine didn’t measure his levels he was literally off the chart so he had to go to hospital they’d made his blood far too thin. Joy more fuck ups then finally my dad manages to sort it out get the doctors on the same page & in line. The side effects are being treated with at home/over the counter remedies as some of the side effects of meds you know not too great plus his body was adjusting he went from 0 medications to 6 plus medications a day. His body is adjusting and he’s slowly improving.  But no then I get told last week my Grandma in Spain has fucking Cancer in her mouth, lymphnodes and lung. So they are going to do a full scan to see if it’s spread else where too. But its looking as though this isn’t treatable/curable and she said something about being told she’d have up to 2yrs to live but I’m not sure if that was a definite or a worst case scenario if it has spread thing as she’s not always the best at communicating things.  Oh and then I find out she’d gone to the doctors last year complaining about the pain in her mouth/jaw and they dismissed her and sent her away the cancer started/originated from her mouth. Now this very same doctor well my Grandma’s regular GP had recently retired so upon seeing her GP for an appointment she ended up seeing the same doctor who had dismissed her a year ago. Now I wouldn’t think anything other than maybe it was too early for them to notice it or something like that but given this doctors behaviour in the most recent appointment I think she’s just a negligent bitch. So for the scan my Grandma has to get to the hospital. Now in Spain it’s not uncommon for them to pick you up via an ambulance/bus service thing my Granddad gets picked up along w/ some others he knows via this service you just have your doctor sign off on it. She asked the GP if she could get a ride to the hospital she also has sciatica and other issues that make it hard for her to get around. The GP asks her why she needs this pick up service and my Grandma goes well I’ve got cancer and the GP is like you have two legs don’t you, you can walk or you can get a taxi. She said it abruptly and rudely my Grandma’s just found out she’s got cancer and then gets treated like that it was a massive smack in the face & really upset her this doctor clearly has not a sympathetic bone in her body. Makes me mad they are going to report her anyways and my Granddads dialysis doctor at the hospital made some calls and got my Grandma signed off so she could get a ride there. He’s a really nice doctor apparently.

So yeah this just feels like it can’t really be happening last week I reached out to my CMHT on duty team which was hard to do but it did help. I’m feeling a little better atm about it all right now at first I was numb then I broke down and cried and cried and cried then I was angry and now I’m just sort of coming to that point of acceptance which is never easy but I’m just trying to keep going and focused and busy on things so I don’t dwell on it too much until we hear back more news about the scan.

[far-off-flower-fields]

Okay another update on the situation with the psychiatrist situation.

I heard back about a week later, but it was the receptionist again. She said that my appointment hadn't just been cancelled without actually telling me, I'd actually been removed from his patient list, ie I wasn't on the waiting list and needed to go to a doctor again to get another referral. I tried to play it cool but just kinda started to cry because I can't try to get on with my life until this shit gets sorted so I can get some benefit stuff sorted and maybe find a mental health management system that actually works for me. She's really nice so she was asking if I was okay and I was trying to just say I was because I was also about to have a meltdown, but then I managed to explain that I had trouble getting referred in the first place because my go sucks. She literally was like hm I wonder if we have the same gp, and then said she'd send another email to the psychiatrist to see if he could work something out.

I should maybe preface this but by explaining the steps I had to go through to get referred, I spent about 3 years going in and complaining about my mental health, I tried a new medication which did literally nothing, I saw a counsellor who was a terrible fit for me. Then when I stopped that I went in to the doctor and said I don't think I have my full diagnosis and why I think that and that I want a referral for that without saying what I think could be my issues and they said they couldn't. I went in again and asked again to a different doctor, this time saying the things that could be going on in case that made a difference but as soon as I mentioned that I think autism or add could make sense (without speaking in certainties even though I've done a ton of actual research) and they point blank said that even though it was so long ago and I had to convince them to even look at me that my diagnosis is exactly what I was told (doctors don't like when you say another doctor got it wrong even if you speak as cautiously as you can and the doctors were literally on the other side of the world). I went in a third time this time only mentioning the possibility of bpd and they actually referred me through. Then I waited several months (like 4 or 5) and my mum buried my appointment notice under some towels so I missed it, then had to reschedule, then that was set to march 31st and the lockdown happened and I've covered the rest already.

The day after I spoke to the receptionist I got a call from a doctor, this time it was the one I spoke to when I got a medical note because of my mental health when I first went on the benefit and I'd told her back then about my "postponed". She was confused because she received an email from the psychiatrist basically asking if she thought I actually needed seen. I explained to her that it was starting to feel like he just didn't want to help me (because it does), but I also explained how my day to day life/mental health is rn and she was like yeah no that's not acceptable and that I shouldn't really be waiting this long so she re-referred me as urgent. She asked if I'd likecto try some medication or just wait and see what the psychiatrist says, I ran through all of the meds I tried that haven't worked and that I've seen so many counsellors who all tried cbt on me to no avail, and she was like yeah you've run the course and tried all there is.

So now I have to wait, probably 3 months minimum but more likely closer to 6 months to move back through the waiting list. Which means I'll be just starting the process of getting diagnosed for whatever is in my head literally a month or two before I wanted to move out of my toxic parents house so there's that out of the window. It also means I have to push back getting married because I'll be doing that just after we move out since otherwise we can't actually see each other more than every second weekend and my benefit will be reduced. My life literally has to continue to be put on hold because the nhs (especially for mental health services) is hugely underfunded and most GPs are shits who won't listen.

I'm so sick of this, I bet they're just hoping I'll give up and just like go back to work and promptly fucking drop dead.

Still 99% sure I have some sort of neurodivergence and/or bpd and I have serious doubts after how the psychiatrist has been acting so far that they're going to listen to me when I actually explain all of my shit and take me seriously because he just seems like he can't be bothered or doesn't have time. I literally have no choice but to keep pushing though.

[richiebrook]

a personal post

Hi hello hi. I’ve been wanting to write a personal thing, so I’m figuring why not. It’s my blog so I can do that, right? I guess? I don’t know, if this is self-important I’m sorry and please just tell me. I just think I’d been depressed for a very long time, and now I’m not. And I want to talk about that.

A couple of months ago a good friend told me that most people don’t feel happy all the time, but neutral, and that I don’t need to strive to be happy all the time. I, lying in bed for 90% of the time when I wasn’t at work, figured that that was my neutral - that lying in bed, yelling at myself in my head all day every day, needing alcohol to calm myself down, allowing my thoughts to spiral - was my neutral. And if that was the case, I wasn’t sure I wanted to bother with going on. I’d decided not to go on a couple of times before that. I never went through with anything but I Googled how to get out up to three times daily - in the morning, while at work, while on my way back home, etc. And then I’d write my Milex drabbles and beg my friend for help (I can’t tell them how sorry I am for putting them through that) and lie in bed. It was as if it was dark 24/7. I’m not fond of ‘dark’ as a description of depression, but I also think I lack the words to accurately describe it. Either way, point is I thought that ‘dark’ and ‘empty’ and ‘useless’ were all part of what I thought was my ‘neutral’.

They aren’t and that wasn’t neutral.

I think I’d been depressed for a very long time. I’ve seen six different therapists and I absolutely advocate seeing a therapist as it can be a great help, but it just didn’t work for me. I was asked about traumatic events in my life, about how my dad treated me growing up (I love my dad and I’m still furious about that) , about my anxiety, about my issues with self worth, about my supposed ADD (I do not have ADD), etc. I’ve done trust exercises, I’ve done exercises where I had to reflect on my own self worth and trust me, I didn’t need to reflect to know I despised myself. I liked it that way. I didn’t want to even think that I came close to being as good of a person as my friends, or anyone else. I’m not going to lie, I’m still tempted to think that, I still look up to literally all of you, but it’s just whatever for me right now. Again, I absolutely think it’s a really good idea to see a therapist if you’re feeling low, let me stress that. It just didn’t work for me, which is also fine.

I did seek help though. I guess I hadn’t much of a choice. (I would never even have considered going through all that again if it weren’t for that friend encouraging me.) I ended seeing my GP about this. And as it was the umpteenth time of me coming back, the conversation was fairly short. “Do you feel that your life is pointless?” he asked, and I said yes. “Do you really feel that seeing a therapist again wouldn’t benefit you?” Yes. “Have you come up with ways to end it?” I told him that yes, I had. I was as matter-of-fact as I could, as crystal clear as I could. Five minutes later I was on my way to the pharmacy with a prescription for antidepressants. I didn’t believe that that would change anything. My GP and psychologists have always told me ‘Oh, don’t worry, you don’t need meds. You’ll be fine without. It’ll pass. You’ll never feel like this again.’ And I figured the exact same thing. Because each time the fog did sort of clear after months, before it came back again. I was fine, right? I was functioning.

I’ve been on antidepressants for roughly a month now and I cannot tell you how different I feel. I’m just going to repeat it:

That absence of feelings, that darkness wasn’t my ‘neutral’.

It’s as if the fog in my brain, that stinking, suffocating fog, has cleared. I’m not sure how else to describe it. Over the past two weeks or so, for the first time in a very long time, I’ve woken up every day feeling alive. Not in a great mood per se, that’s not the point, but alive. Even this morning, despite waking up angry at myself because I managed to eat an entire bag of crisps before bed (I was hungry, okay ;D), everything was crystal clear. The storm and rain pelting against my windows, the cold as I got out of bed, the colours in my bedroom. Even on bad days it’s as if I’ve been waking up with coffee already in my system and my contact lenses already in my eyes. Lights are brighter and sounds are crisper and my mind is so blissfully quiet. I can hear myself think if I want to. I can express myself better. I feel like I’m breathing fresh air even sat inside with the windows closed (I wish I could open them but it’s pouring you guys, does anyone want to switch places? ;) ). 

That’s that, I guess. I can’t explain it any differently. That dark, scary place where I didn’t want to live anymore wasn’t my ‘neutral’. This is. I laughed yesterday because when I went for a run the wind just threw my back and I had to sprint to even move forward. I saw tigers last week and I marvelled about how bright and amazing they were. The last time I saw tigers I was counting down the minutes until I wouldn’t see them anymore and feeling sad about that. I’m starting a new job next month and normally, I’d spend every minute of every day up until then secretly worrying about that. I’m not worried right at this moment, though. I’m lounging in bed without the intention of staying here all day because I’ve nothing else to do. I might write my new Milex fic. I might read some, or watch telly. Who cares. It’s a Sunday. 

I didn’t think things would change for me simply by taking some pills. And I know that I’ll be depressed again. I’ve been depressed on and off for the past twelve or so years, so I don’t think it’ll stop just like that. But I don’t think I’ve ever, not once in the past twelve years, have felt so awake and so calm and so comfortable. I’ve nothing planned for today, no tight schedule I’m going to make myself cling to, but that doesn’t make me nervous anymore. I’m just going to take it easy today.

As for my writing, I’ve written some dark shit over the past couple months. My last Milex drabble especially was... bleak. I privated all those drabbles for now because I don’t really want to look at them anymore. I’m sure they’ll be back but I do hope they won’t be for a while. I wrote every single one of those in a dark place, and though they helped me express things over the past couple of months, now they just make me feel sick. I do like the idea of them still. And they helped me. But I just don’t want to look at them for a while. The same goes for many of my fics on AO3 (which I won’t private). Again, I’m sure that’ll change. I still love that I got back into writing with the passion that I did, and I’ve reread my own fics countless times just because I wrote them from a place of needing comfort, but I can’t stand the idea of rereading them for now. I want to try writing something with an actual plot. I don’t know if I can do it, I don’t know how motivated I’ll be to write for the time to come, but that’s what I’d like to try. I’ve written so much over the past year and because of that I’m so happy I got into the Milex fandom. Now that the need to write bleak stuff has waned, I want to try for something longer and less melancholic. I’ve no clue if I can do that, I’ve no clue if I’m going to finish it, but I’d like to give it a shot.

Anyway. I think this was about as rambly as everyone expects of me and I don’t expect anyone to read the entire thing. I’ve just been wanting to make this post. And now I’ve done so. I hope everyone’s having a good weekend. :) Also if you’re struggling please seek help. I’m still only half believing how much of a difference it made for me.

[aquarianlights]

Depending on how tomorrow goes, I may or may not go MIA from every single social media site and texting app that everyone knows me on without any notice but this. I’m not really telling anyone. Posting a mass update here and maybe fb later. But even if tomorrow goes “well” or anywhere in the “good” category...I may be too overwhelmed to be talking to anyone or on any kind of social media for a while. Hours, days, weeks. If it goes poorly, expect me gone for at least a month. If I’m still alive by the end of that---which I should be, coz I will have Echo right by my side and he will never leave my side again and I will do everything in my power to push through and be positive and be a good dad for him---then I will eventually crawl back onto social media. But my queue may run out for the second time in my entire time since I made this blog like 6-7+ years ago. It’s only run out once so far and that’s because it wasn’t maxed out and slowed down before I got institutionalized once and that was a longer stay than normal. Normally I manage to get out before my queue runs out and then ...”treat myself” with a queue filling binge of positive stuff and foxes and glittery things and nerdy things and all things christmas and cold weather. Just general stuff I like...packing it full, coz it’ll usually be on the very last few posts by the time I get out, but no one will have noticed my absence coz it won’t have run out.

But the personal space I will need from how intense this could potentially be...is terrifying for me. I usually go to social media to cope. Somehow, this is so terrifying, that stepping away from social media, stepping away from my friends, and venturing out on my own and putting myself in rather dangerous situations would be my best way to cope. Other than pouring my hours into research and schoolwork... I do have plenty of medical texts to read that I haven’t had the time to do more than skim over [stares longingly at them all].

The amount of overwhelming this is ....is just... it would break a neurotypical person and shred them to pieces. For me? I’m not sure what it will do. The good thing about my particular neurodivergency is that I don’t have much of a conscience to work with (I thought the auditory hallucinations were what everyone was referring to as a conscience until professionals finally told me that’s not what a conscience is and upon further research found I didn’t have one which is great for this situation but damn). I

This could potentially be the hardest moment of my entire life, but I won’t know that until I’m lying on my death bed. This could potentially be the biggest mistake I ever make, but I won’t know that until I’m lying on my death bed. This could potentially be the best thing that ever happens to me, but again... I won’t know that until I’m lying on my death bed. As of right now...at the age of 26...on the date of February 24th, 2018. . .this WILL be the hardest day of my entire life to date. This will be the hardest thing I will ever have to do in my life, no matter the outcome. I’m not scared; I’m sick. I feel like it’d be a better idea to kill myself than go through with this. I’d get to avoid the whole thing.

I hate how logical that is.

And I hate how there’s literally not a single counter argument to it and not even one downside. There WAS one downside and that was that my friends would grieve and/or care but the two people who I was worried about caring/grieving and it affecting their lives have thoroughly proven it won’t and that they do not. That’s not pessimism or anything. That’s just cold, hard fact. Yeah, it’s a sad fact. But. . .it’s fact nonetheless. And I gotta look at the truth one way or another. Facts don’t change just because they’re not in my favour.

I really do hate how logical suicide is right now.

And I really do hate how there isn’t a single counter-argument to it. And how I have absolutely no one in my corner right now and how I have to support every single one of my friends despite the fact I have told them over and over again that I can’t be there for them and to stop and to back the fuck off with their damn problems, because I’m going through too much of my own stuff to help them with theirs. There’s only two people I will put aside my ridiculous mountain of issues that could possibly lead to my death and hopefully will to help...One has proven she is and always has been in my corner no matter what she’s going through. And the other has proven that she is definitely unreliable and won’t be there for me no matter how hard I try for her. The first one... She is the strongest person ever and she will get through my death. She will. She’s been through worse. The second one won’t care even in the slightest or even notice. I’m pretty sure she’d be relieved and happy, tbh. Lol. She’d be out there thinkin’ “FINALLY, DAMN” lolololol. I know I would be. Like, I know I WILL be when I finally do it and get to move on to the next plane of existence and get those brief moments as an infant where you’re not able to speak or communicate in any way because you have all your memories from your past life? Yeah. I’m gonna be fucking throwing a party in whatever form of a crib or bed type thing my new planet and new species has. I hope to fuck my new species is a lot more peaceful than this one. And I hope they’re more advanced and more intelligent. I guess that depends on my karma and I have no clue where my karma is at right now tbh coz I’ve done so many EXTREMELY horrible things in my life, but I’ve also done almost the exact same amount of EXTREMELY amazingly genuinely GOOD things in my life at this point that it practically balances it out to 0 so I’m just all [shruggy emoji] on whether the omnipotent fate aliens would demote or promote me during reincarnation. Sighhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

Man. Tomorrow may just kill me. Hell, if I don’t kill myself before I start the drive tomorrow, I have 2 1/2 hours of driving to think about killing myself every single goddamn second during the drive there...and if, for some weird reason, I don’t have my dog on the way home...... I will have another 2 1/2 hours to think every single second about killing myself. And how the fuck easy would it be to do on Blood Mountain? I’m p sure my car takes via the route that goes over Blood Mountain. People die on Blood Mountain just driving normally.... All I gotta do is push the limits a little. Not hard to die on Blood Mountain...lmao. Not hard AT ALL. I hope my GPS takes me that way coz that’s when I start recognizing where I am and know I’m getting SORT OF close-ish I guess??? and then that idea of suicide just sounds WAY better so...not a bad idea to take a BUNCH of pills in the town right BEFORE blood mountain and then speed through it when I can’t feel my fucking feet on the pedals and am nodding off at the wheel so that I drive my car right through a guard rail or over the side of the cliff OR right into the rock wall. Yep. That sounds p fucking fantastic. Ugh. I have the worst ideas regarding car deaths and I can never do it coz I don’t wanna total my car.... Lmao. The only thing that stops me from doing it is coz I don’t wanna total my car and being a med student, my mind goes through the entire list of “what COULD happen” and how slow of a death if no one finds me and this and that and calculations and blah blah blah and palatalization and amputations and blah blah BLAH and ruining dreams for if I am FORCED into living and BLAH BLAH BLAH and car suicide is the absolute WORST idea for someone who NEEDS a bright, fast, chaotic, able-bodied future if they are forced to live omg lmao BUT....I mean, I have so many other methods in my head that I know practically all the things and I’ve tried so many ways now that I just know what I can and can’t handle and I think tomorrow is gonna be the make or break. But having Echo in the car with me after being broken..........will force me to stay alive. Which will suck so badly. But I will have to also compartmentalize all my pain and my negativity so that he’s not even MORE stressed out than by all the commotion of the situation and then by this crazy car ride and by most likely throwing up in the car.

ERGH.

I need to stop thinking about this and distract myself but I also need to rest my joints so I guess I’m gonna watch a documentary.... something nice and calming but also stimulating... I just wish people didn’t talk so monotone when narrating documentaries. Especially when it’s about the supernatural and extraterrestrials and government experiments and stuff. Like COME ON, NARRATORS. GET EXCITED. GET INTO IT! FOR FUCKS SAKE, THERE’S A REASON PEOPLE GET PUT TO SLEEP BY DOCUMENTARIES AND IT’S NOT THE DOCUMENTARY....IT’S YOU! THE NARRATOR! YOU’RE THE ISSUE. GET INVOLVED. GET HYPED ABOUT THE INFORMATION! GET PASSIONATE. FOR FUCKS SAKE, IT’S COOL STUFF. FUCKING ACT LIKE IT, YA DAMN MONOTONE, ROBOTIC NIMROD. Ergh. Someone needs to sign me up to narrate a documentary. I used to speak at public rallies about puppy mills all over my county to educate the masses during high school because I was enraged about it and TRUST ME when YOU’RE having FUN WITH IT or ENRAGED BY IT or THINK THE INFORMATION IS COOL and REALLY GET INTO IT...........SO WILL YOUR AUDIENCE. It’s not the information that’s boring. It’s not the documentary that’s boring. It’s not the subject material. IT’S THE NARRATOR. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. YOU DON’T EVEN HAVE TO PAY ME JUST LET ME DO THEIR DAMN JOB CORRECTLY SO I CAN SHOW THEM HOW TO DO THEIR DAMN JOBS SO THEY CAN LEARN. FUCK.

dfkhdglskagjdshlkg Omg.

No okay now I’m gonna get angry at a documentary narrator for not doing their job correctly. Lmao. Gotta watch something uh.... Passionate. I guess. But that doesn’t require too much focus. But doesn’t numb my mind. Star Trek. I always default to Star Trek. Jfc. I guess I’mma pop on some Weyoun heavy episodes while I wait for the “all clear” on my joint timer thing so I can get up and exercise and do some fucking research and maybe pleasure-read for a bit before more joint resting because long drives and lots of heavy lifting is a big no-no and I’m not supposed to but things aren’t gonna pack themselves. Things aren’t gonna sort themselves?? LIKE??? Fuck it’s gonna be SO hard leaving majority of my material possessions that have so much personal value to me. :/ Argh. I don’t even have the ability to take them in order to sell them. I don’t even have that kind of strength or time. AHHHHHHHHHHHHH

EDS is a fucking bitch, man. Fucking BITCH. T-Therapy better fucking cure EDS. Like. They’re all on board with it. 4 of my specialists are. And I’m meeting with my HRT doc next week. This coming week. So.... we’ll see. She cordoned off 2 appointments for me for all the things. Sigh. 

Oh right. Yes. Joint rest.

I’m bad at this. I hate resting. I really do. I hate being stationary. I hate not being able to do stuff. I HATE THIS AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH EDS is a fucking killer for people with former suicidal depression who had had it all their life and it had apparently been fixed by meds and now suddenly it’s back like WOW fuck EDS. Ugh. And I’m getting all these phone calls from my docs as my tests come back telling me I need to change my diet to avoid this and that and change this and that like whole HUGE lifestyle changes but adding “We’ll go over the full thing at our next appointment, but I STRONGLY ADVISE...” I’m like, “Well bitch as long as you tell me it’s just advise and not a MUST, I want a damn biscuit okay. Fuck your no gluten.” But then again, I have a stomach ulcer so I can’t really eat ANYTHING right now so wah. [whines]

FUCK. KILLIAN. LIE DOWN. STOP TYPING. I NEED SOMEONE TO FUCKING WHACK ME WITH A FUCKING RULER OR SOMETHING LIKE THE NUNS USED TO DO IN MY PRIVATE, CATHOLIC SCHOOL. LMAO.

[stops now...for real this time...but reluctantly and rather bitterly]