Homeward bound

I’m going HOME. First time in 10 weeks. I’m excited.

It’s also an environmental/human rights conference, so some people from uni are coming up and I can’t wait to show them my city!

I may be a tad too excited, but no diazepam will be required. I’m cool, honest.

(I bucked up the courage and went to see my doc. She’s given me some diazepam to take as and when and reassured me I’m not bipolar. Cyclotymic maybe (but even then I concur, I don’t fit the criteria. I’m just normal as norman normal who is having a reaction to citalopram.))

Dilemma

I’m going to the hospital a week tomorrow, and am stopping the citalopram ahead of this. Am I being fecking stupid?

I want to because my mum’s coming along and I’m anticipating medication related questions, and seeing as she doesn’t know it could get sticky. However, I’m worried things will all go wrong.

My mood’s also been quite uppy, which is a reason for my reduction to 20mg temporarily, but I’m wondering whether I should just come off. I want to speak to my doctor about this, but feel so unwilling to go; I don’t want to be seen as attention seeking because everything’s meant to be okay, but it really isn’t. I’m sitting in a bus shelter crying at the moment, I feel like I’m losing grip on the whole world. It’s all too colourful and overwhelming and unstoppable, everything keeps flying by. Then there are lulls. Lulls that knock everything out of me. This is my realisation that there’s nothing wrong and I should stop trying to make a mountain out of a molehill. I feel trapped in a dilemma, where all the questions are too big to be answered… I’m just feeling like a city dwelling ant: about to be stamped on.

The medics ruled out it being something serious, but what will the hospital find?

Frustration

I am becoming increasingly frustrated with myself, and how I manage to do a lot of things wrongly, and end up upsetting people. I may just be feeling overly guilty, but I doubt not.

Who on earth manages to keep letting other down time after time, without any good excuse? I’m either late, or like last night fell asleep for 12 hours by accident, instead of going to the pub. I’m disappointed in myself for being this person; for being the one who manages to insert her mentalness into the conversation and ruin the moment. How I feel guilty and burdening for talking about what’s going on, when I’m having fun. Me and the girl were chatting, and I was denying my prettyness pretty adamently when it all slipped up. It kinda killed the conversation, as you may imagine. And now, I feel pretty guilty for it. I feel like I’m being watched now, I know she cares and that’s why she asks, but I still hate being asked. Being asked by someone who doesn’t understand the mindset, doesn’t understand that I’m fat, that keeps telling me I’m not isn’t helping. I am fat, I know this… I don’t need to have people denying it to me. She asked about therapy, what happens there… maybe I’m just not ready to tell about that kind of thing, but I don’t like telling. I wish for everything to remain normal; because otherwise people don’t guess.

Telling people, not taking my medication and not eating will not get me anywhere, I know this and I’ve been through it enough times. But just another time I’ll go through it, it’ll be last I swear. But it won’t be, it never will.

I am frustrated because I’m turning into everything I hate.

That and citalopram kills my sex drive, which may start causing problems round about now. She’s getting upset because she thinks it’s her causing the problems, but it’s just me. And it always will be.

A brief encounter

My personal tutor also lectures me for one of my modules and today, I was exceptionally early, as I needed to speak to another friend who is normally very early too. Except she wasn’t there yet, which left me and the lecturer, and questions pertaining to how I was getting on; after all I did tell him about things last year. He asked about whether I felt that my academic potential was being affected- of course it is. He commented on the fact that I was doing well in coming to lecturers and my ‘good’ grades last year, but he doesn’t understand. At all. I hate how I’m affected. How a simple piece of work can cause so many problems; how working hard enough can drain me so much I have to rest the next few days. He just doesn’t understand- I may not resemble on appearance what I’m feeling, but that doesn’t stop what’s happening inside… What am I even meant to say in situations like that?! Brush it off or be truthful? I’ve never been so glad to see another lecturer come in the room…

The Band

It’s there to remind me. That I’m getting thinner, that it didn’t used to slide around up and down my arm so freely in times past.

I love my sziget band, probably as much as I loved the festival.

Noting the fact that this isn’t good, and not something I really want to happen, I’ve voluntarily started a food diary to take to therapy with me, I’m trying to go for the shock tactic. I’m not much good with calories, but what I do know is that I’m not eating enough, especially considering how much of the time I’m on the go. I really need to get this nailed, to get this sorted once and for all. I feel I lack the knowledge of food; the knowledge of how to eat more. Some people just don’t eat much, I may be one of those now, as I’ve trained myself; there is, however, a line. A line between not eating much and being healthy, and not eating much but neglecting yourself too. I really don’t know where I stand. My thought processes may not be healthy, but am I physically healthy eating the amount I do?

“…And how do you feel about that?”

To tell you the truth, I don’t really feel that much about it.

No, scratch that. I feel something, just the something that I feel in the majority of cases. I guess sometimes I’ve analysed a situation and how I responded it to death and back, and to be told to reward myself does begin to get a little old. I may have come on in leaps and bounds, I may be dealing with situations better (as in I’m not cutting anymore) but I can’t reward myself, it doesn’t feel right and I don’t recognise it as an achievement. Y’see, rewarding myself is difficult. I don’t even know how to go about rewarding myself, truth be told. I can chill out, go out or watch a film… but that feels like an onorous task too, on occasion. What is rewarding myself?

Is it a nibble on some chocolate, or the tub of Ben and Jerry’s I have in the freezer? Is it TV time? Is it cooking? Climbing? A cup of green tea and a book? See I enjoy all of those, but I wouldn’t necessarily class them as rewards. In fact, I can’t actually think of anything I would use as a reward, as sometimes even doing something I ‘enjoy’ (when the depression isn’t there) can become so difficult, that any enjoyment I may or may not receive, or the benefit to my mental health isn’t necessarily found.

Today in psychology, we were still addressing and preparing the ground: discussing how daily life is for me. What I do, what I think, what I eat; in preparation for actually starting the therapeutic process. It scares me how some things, such as the fatigue and way of thinking have sunk into me, sunk into my personality so much, that they’ve all become second nature to me. I go in wondering what to say: there’s nothing wrong with me, but then come out with some much needed perspective and also, I came out feeling a lot more positive than when I went in. They generally offer 18-24 sessions and I’ll be seeing her weekly, although we will discuss this at the 8 week mark. On the whole, I’m feeling positive about it. I’m also feeling very warm, as they had the heating on full blast and the windows not only were barred but double barred; I asked whether that was to keep the patients in, or keep people out!  I still maintain the building is horrible, it used to be a hospital I think. At least I’m no longer in the freezing portacabin- psychology gets the “nicer” warmer building…

Ooh, hello psychology!

I start psychology today.

It should be interesting, and hopefully helpful! I’ll see how it goes, but for now, I need to get ready!

My Body

There are times when not feeling horridly self conscious about my body would come in useful. Like, frequently, seeing as I can’t be bothered to explain why I feel so uncomfortable to the girl I’m seeing. It’s a shame, really. It kinda kills things as that takes over my mind, instead of what we’re doing at that moment in time. That and tally killing any libido I may have, not that any of you probably wanted to read any of this.

So I’ll change the subject.

This week has been fairly disasterous, uniwise. I’m sitting here planning an event for my society next week and firing off emails, researching etc and also being boxed in by books. I really need to get organised. I need to actually start doing work in the day, and not taking every single social committment by the horns! I think I’ve been out late every day this week, so I don’t want to get up, or do work in the day. I’m silently planning my agenda for this weekend and the current week: it’s reading week for the French part of my course, so I will have lots of time and therefore I can clear this mess and hopefully start revising/learning stuff. It may be early, but some of my courses are horrific work wise! You need an encyclopaedic brain knowledge of everything that’s happened in French politic between 1945 and well, whenever we stop. So far, it’s a lot about De Gaulle. He was charismatic, y’know? My french lecturer is also in love with him and Général Massou. See, I learnt like 2 things so far this year! So that’s where I disappeared to: I (shockingly) had a life. The medical ctr also lost my hospital referral, but I now have it and have an appointment to be prodded by the haematologisits later this week. I’m not looking forward to it, and have invited my mum to the appointment, forgetting one piece of info: she doesn’t know I’m on medication. That could be interesting…

Well now I need to eat and buy stuff in a non- compulsive manner. Happy Saturday!

Violated

A friend went through my phone and found my blog.

Looking at my stats, someone is reading all my posts. I don’t know if it’s them, or just pure chance but I’m feeling uneasy. I don’t know what the point of writing this is, but what I do know is that I told them not to read any more, and they said they wouldn’t.

I don’t know what to do.

“Leaps and bounds”

I was discharged from therapy today, in light of me starting psychology on monday. I’m quite glad really, I wasn’t entirely sure how much longer we’d be able to spin out the checking in occasionally act for. It was useful at the start, but more recently it’s become a chore.
So, I told her the good news and we sort of reviewed what we’d done over the past 9 months or so, and she said that I’d come on very well from when she first met me; it’s gone from finding coping strategies to well, things that can be more useful in the long term. I also received the spiel of ‘if you ever need a rereferral don’t hesitate to ask; it’s not like you can never access services again’. How promising that sounds! I am hoping that after psychology I’ll be able to say goodbye to services; well it’s more of a certainty for one year to say the least. But we won’t talk about that yet!