Posts Tagged ‘family’

Q: Why Do Buses Come In Threes?

With very little to take me out of the house, my days have been melding into each other, each one with its own small challenges to surmount – food, washing, keeping the electric meter fed with credit.

And now suddenly everything else has come up at once.

I have…

  • Tonight until the weekend – time with my grandma and parents
  • 6th September – appointment with my old psychiatrist to see if she would be willing to back my application for ESA, despite having told me I should look for work last time she saw me.
  • 10th September – appointment to have two tenacious baby teeth removed, as some sort of “gentle introduction” into having dental work done.
  • 13th September – appointment with a “mental health practitioner” from the PCMHT for an initial assessment (same as in May 2008), as a response to my psychology referral.
  • 16th September – appointment for my ESA medical

Since I don’t seem to have the option of just sleeping through the next fortnight (doubly true while I’m being more insomniac than usual), I fear the next two weeks are going to be lurching from one raw wound to another. I shouldn’t cancel the dental appointment – delaying it is only going to make me more nervous about it, but I don’t think I can cope with worrying about it on top of everything else. Also, physical pain tends to make me forget everything mental related for a while – which is perhaps not what I want directly before two assessments where, in some wierd sense, I need to be as mental as possible in order to get a positive outcome.

Sheesh, I sound like I’m faking it just for the money. Since I started applying for benefit I’ve become a lot warier of things like that – it’s hard not to be, in the current climate, with news articles like this and this (by the way, my grandma reads the Torygraph).

Especially since I’m much better and should be applying for work, right?

Also, how do I explain to my (generally disbelieving) parents that my psychiatrist discharged me and told me I’m much better but I’m seeing her again because I’m applying for sickness benefit?

If only real life worked the same way that we all think the systems should work.

A: Because travelling alone is dangerous


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You Can Lead A Horse To Water…

…but you cannot make it drink.

So, I told my parents.

Their response?


I know they don’t know what to say, I know that they must hate not knowing what to say.

But, c’mon, say something to acknowledge that I’m going through a shitty time? I’m giving up my dreams, my place on a very good course, my accomodation, and the job I love… because of an severe illness that is as yet remaining out of my control.

Walking off without acknowledging me when I go to say “Goodbye” because you can’t cope is understandable, but dammit, I don’t want to have to understand you, or give you time… I want some support, m’kay?

Is this really too much to ask?

I posted them a copy of this and this (the first of which is my personal antidote to the “noone else feels like this” moments) in the hope that they might read them, and perhaps be able to understand a little.

On the plus side, my mood and energy remain on an upward trend, as evidenced by the fact that today’s session with my worker took place with me perched on the windowsill…

…thus providing me with a very high outlook, I guess 😀

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Good Riddance to 2008

Christmas is over (almost), family arguments have broken out at the other end of the house, and I’m trying to revise.

Christmas was good in the end, though the turkey was undercooked, and I only had a couple of presents to unwrap. The biggie was a new graphics card for my computer, which will indeed be much appreciated, but, given that my computer is back at uni, it’s been deposited un-loved in the corner of my bedroom until I return…

…which will be in only two days! I’m really looking forward to escaping the clutches of my familly. Tally has made the whole thing a lot more bearable than it would have been in a different mood, but I think I’ve been snapping too much at people, and it will be nice to be able to be alone again (without my mother coming to find me just to tell me she’s feeling lonely).

I’m also glad to see the back of 2008, though to be honest I don’t have coherent memories of most of it. Not sure I could expect coherent memories, given that I spent it going subtlely bonkers in different ways. On the upside (?) I do have this blog to remind me what occured, should i fancy some self-flagelation.

However, I do get to enter 2009 with a brand spanking new outlook on life, more support than I’ve ever had before (albeit some of the chocolate teapot variety), and a dashing red coat that I alternately hate and love, depending on what pills I’m taking at the time.

Happy New Year… or whatever is most appropriate.

*hands out champagne and slabs of christmas cake*

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Merry Christmas

And ye, beneath life’s crushing load,
Whose forms are bending low,
Who toil along the climbing way
With painful steps and slow,
Look now! for glad and golden hours
come swiftly on the wing.
O rest beside the weary road,
And hear the angels sing!

It Came Upon The Midnight Clear

(Apologies, I wanted to post a more modern version of that verse that had caught my imagination somewhat at a carol service, but I couldn’t find it on the internet at all!)

So, it appears to be Christmas again. A strange time of year, one which seems to highlight the differences between what my life is and what it could be. And yet I can’t stand around and mope about it, because I will miss what I have when it’s gone, and it will be soon.

So, here’s to the season, to eating lots of nice food and having a good time (even if forced to)… but also to that old old mystery pondered upon across the world today – that of God becoming a helpless human baby, and living in our messed up, hurtful world, until we killed him.

Merry Christmas!

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Back “Home”

I’ve been back with my parents since Friday evening.

It actually feels very strange to be back, almost dreamlike. I know this place, but yet I don’t. In my mind, it’s still the sleepy coastal town it used to be, stuck a generation or so behind the rest of the country. Yet it has moved on, and only my memories are stuck behind in the past.

And this is not just about the previously thriving high street, now filled with estate agents and souless chain stores. It’s true at a far more personal level. Even up until last year, I was taunted when I walked down the road, by kids who were copying what their elder brothers and sisters had done when I still lived here – not a one of them knowing who Chou was or what she might have done to earn their emnity.

Now I’m free to walk the streets again, without a hint of recognition. Blessed anonimity, yet bringing a tinge of regret. After 19 long years lived in this place, is this all I have to show for it?

Not that I have no friends here, but they’re all within my church, and all much older than I am. More like familly than friends, as I’ve known them since I was a young teenager, and it was they who taught me to match my movements with theirs, to move in time with others and learn to be comfortable in the company of people.

My blood familly are getting on my nerves somewhat. I’m seeing their life through fresh eyes now, and I’m itching to dive in and save them from themselves. The grime in the kitchen, the clutter on the landing, the thick layer of dust on the carpets. How can anyone live like this, without being ground down? How did I ever live like this?

But… it occurs to me that this is nothing less than arrogance. If they are happy here, then I have no right to suggest that they change their ways just to please me.

All I can really do is grit my teeth and try to make the most of being here.

(Unfortunately, I’m having to grit my teeth in more ways that one, as Tally side effects are still having their way with me, even on only 10mg. I can tell that I’m being snappy as hell, and I simply can’t sit comfortably – it feels rather like there are little creatures running around inside my skin and playing the xylophone with my vertebrae. Eeeeeeeeeesh…)

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My body is here, but my mind is not. It keeps slipping back to a middling-large house in the countryside, filled to the gills with family, friends, and a cat.

I keep wondering… what are they doing now? How are they? Who do they have over at the moment?

I know that all I have to do to return is to ring them up and ask.

“We want you to feel you always have a home here”, they said. “Come down any time… well, when we’re here ourselves!”, they said.

To be honest, I’m so lonely at the moment that it is increasingly difficult not to make that ‘phone call. The contrast between the echoingly empty campuses and busy days in “Zion” is growing. People to see, children to look after, hungry hordes to feed. But there, not here.

And yet here is the paradox: if it were home, I would call this homesickness.

But it is not home.

Home is here, or with my parents.

Not there.

However much I might wish it was.

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By the rivers of Babylon we sat and wept
when we remembered Zion.

There on the poplars
we hung our harps,

for there our captors asked us for songs,
our tormentors demanded songs of joy;
they said, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!”

How can we sing the songs of the LORD
while in a foreign land?

Psalm 137, 1-4

I’ve been struggling a bit this week, and having a small amount of family drama added to the mix hasn’t really helped (when does family drama ever help?). To cut a long story short, my gran’s funeral was at 10am on Friday… and we only found out on Thursday afternoon! For me, this made the logistics very difficult.

I am however proud of myself through the fog, as I…

  • realised I wasn’t going to be able to manage everything on my own
  • identified one of my friends who would be able to help
  • and plucked up the courage to make the phone call to ask them for help!

That’s an absolute first for me, and really shows how much I’ve learnt this year.

Funeral was… strange. A lot of people I’ve never met before, a lot of strain on my mother
(and indirectly on me). I came back home earlier than my parents, because the pressure
of trying to “fake normal”, and to live up to the standard of behaviour that they expect from me, was proving too much, and I noticed myself growing increasingly nervous about what they might be saying about me behind my back (not unjustifiably, I suppose, but all the same, I could feel it was beginning to trigger old paranoias, and didn’t want to sink further into that). I did discover that I’ve lost an extra half stone in the last month… ooops.

On returning home, I found my internet had been cancelled by my ex-housemate. Amazingly, I managed to order it anew under my name with a different company, so am now waiting to hear back about it. I hope all goes smoothly, as I don’t really feel I have the energy to be ringing up call centres and fighting for my internet access!

Mood wise, I’m not sure how I feel. I’m really doubting that this is an “illness” – which,
ironically, was one of the things that I identified a few months as being an indicator of well/not well. So, ho hum. Do I believe what I think now, or memories of how I used to think?
The answer really depends on itself, if you know what I mean.

Still having suicidal feelings, but still in control of them… just about. Mostly I’m good at remembering reasons to live, but sometimes they fade in importance compared to the lure of suicide. I’m trying to distract myself from working out what my currently preferred method is, since I know even if I did, there’d be plenty of time to plan while I was setting my affairs in order. I know I have the option of asking for a CMHT referral… but I’m not clear on at what point that becomes something I should ask for, and the little note that the worker I saw in May scribbed down for me doesn’t specify. We only talked about who I could go to and what exactly I should say (to avoid getting referred back to the Primary Care Mental Health Team again!), not a boundary between appropriate/inappropriate.

Also, the really big obstacle to doing that is the time it would take. It can take up to a week
just to get a GP appointment, and intothesystem’s referral (who appears to be at a similar point to myself mood-wise) seems to be taking forever and a day. Given how long just a few hours can feel when I’m finding it the hardest not to give in, waiting as long as she is seems a worse option than not even trying at all. I’m currently on the waiting list for some form of support from the young-people place, so I’ll see how I feel when that happens, and what they say. That should be “as soon as possible”… but of course that may not actually be for some time. It’s also only 9 days till my appointment with the person I’m (hopefully) seeing for CBT, and presumably he will have an opinion as well. We’ll see.

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