Trick Me, Treat Me… I Don’t Care

Why won’t the little morons who are trick or treating just leave me alone? All my housemates (all 2 of them) are out on the town and I am sitting here in floods of tears in my pyjamas. I don’t mind giving all my chocolate away, it means I won’t eat it, but I don’t particularly want to be disturbed tonight.

The weekend at my parents was lovely but it’s back to reality now. I’m still no further forwards with the CMHT/CPN/psychiatrist referral. They still think I’m just being “borderline” over it all – my GP told me that one CPN told her that, which makes my blood boil and make me want to curl up and cry at the same time.

My parents ended up taking me to A&E over the weekend, which led to my big secret being out of the bag again. My Mum took it really well but my Dad went off on one and didn’t let it drop. My Mum is furious over the whole mental health referral though and threatened to get involved, but I don’t want her to be.

I’ve been surviving on co-codamol, tramadol and zopiclone this week, as well as my obligatory venlafaxine. I don’t know what’s happening to me anymore.

Ruth

Daylight Saving Time

Is there anyone else in the country who finds the clocks going back to GMT makes them really tired, grumpy and fed up.

 Here’s to months of dark, depressing days and Seasonal Affective Disorder. What fun.

Ruth

Normal Blogging Resumed

Sorry about my little absence. I’ve been very self-pitying and mournful recently and quite introverted and the last thing I felt like doing was writing a post. Anyway, I am writing one now, lord knows if it will make any sense whatsoever, but I’ll give it a go!

I saw my GP on Friday, she had heard from the CMHT and they had said much the same thing to her that they had said to me. Needless to say, she is not very happy about it either and is going to ring them next week and request a meeting with a CPN, herself and me present so we can all speak and put out points across.

I took far too many co-codamol on Thursday night, just couldn’t cope with ther day so kept swallowing the tablets. I then took zopiclone (I finally got the prescription as I thought if the CMHT aren’t going to do anything I may as well take matters into my own hands) and slept, and slept and slept. I slept through my lecture, through my seminar, through my research session, through the time I was meant to meet Rich. He panicked slightly and came over to find me slightly groggy and very thirsty. I am fine now though, much more alert.

I am spending the weekend at my parents in West London. My Mum is being very Mummy-like, which is nice. My Dad is leaving me to myself, which is also nice. And I feel safe and loved and comforted. I know that it makes no difference deep down to the way I feel but on the surface it is nice. I am so lucky with Rich and my family.

Ruth

Passed From Pillar To Post

The CMHT rang me earlier, they’re not sure if I fit their referral criteria as they are not sure that I am suffering from a “severe and enduring mental illness”.

I told them that my GP wants me to be referred. They said that they cannot accept all GP referrals. I then said that I wasn’t initially referred by my GP, I was initially referred by the duty psych at UCH because I attended A&E. They said that said duty psych refers a lot to ease their conscience.

I asked what would happen now… they said they didn’t know but they would be in touch, but in the meantime to keep the appointment with my GP on Friday and to keep taking my medication.

I said I wasn’t on any medication because my GP wanting me to be assessed by the CMHT and get their opinion before re-prescribing anything.

They said that if I wasn’t taking any medications then I couldn’t be that ill and therefore didn’t require CMHT intervention. I put phone down.

*Slams head against wall*

Ruth

PS. Someone found this site yesterday by searching for “depression cmht cpn” – please don’t use the above post as any indication for yourself!

I Am Ill…

That’s the third time today I have had to admit that one. My GP saw me at 9.30am, after ringing me at 8am to see if that was OK with me. It wasn’t really, I was planning to go to my 9am seminar but I figured I can catch up on a seminar, my health is difficult to catch up on. Thankfully my notes arrived from my old GP at my under-grad uni at the end of last week, so that made talking to my new GP so much easier as she had all my notes in front of me, instead of me having to fill in the blanks. I told her about the self-harming (which she knew of through A&E’s discharge summary), the resurgence of bulimic symptoms (i.e. binge-purge; I am not going to say bulimia quite yet as I don’t think it’s latched on that badly yet), the anxiety and paranoia and the fact I had stopped taking venlafaxine. When she asked me why I had stopped taking venlafaxine, I actually had to be honest and say “I don’t know”. I wish I could give some perfectly logical and rational reason as to why I woke up one day and decided to stop taking my anti-depressants, but I can’t.

She is contacting the CMHT with all my details and wants them to ring me tomorrow or Wednesday. She is not going to restart me on any medication until I have been assessed by the CMHT and has seen what the duty psych has to say about things. She wants to see me again at the end of the week to make sure that I am “floating with my head above water, even if I am paddling like hell underneath” – her words. She was lovely about it, and told me that it is not my fault I have had a relapse. She thinks it is down to withdrawing from venlafaxine too quickly, a change in circumstances (i.e. new home, new uni, new course etc.) and above all apparently is “just one of those things”.

I also muttered the words that are the hardest to me to her. “I think I am addicted to prescription and over the counter medicines, particularly sleeping tablets and painkillers”. That was tough, but she didn’t judge me, she just said that give my past medical history of spending all the years of my life since I was 17 on and off sleeping tablets and spending nearly 9 months continuously on strong painkillers when I was 20, and given my mental state leans towards an addictive personality, that it wasn’t surprising. I actually cried when she said that, I thought everyone would resent me for having (as I saw it) yet another problem. She says that she will mention it to the CMHT, but as an aside and below the eating/self-harm crap, as she thinks that if I can deal with that first, then dealing with the dependency will be easier, and she doesn’t want me thrown towards substance abuse services before all of the other underlying problems are dealt with.

I just have to wait for the CMHT to ring me now, which I am more scared of because I know my GP (if only for a short time) and she doesn’t have that ‘psych’ or ‘mental health’ prefix of which I am so, so scared.

Ruth

Lazy Sundays Are The Nicest!

I have had such a lazy day. I went out last night with Rich, one of the girlies I live with, a couple of Rich’s housemates, and a few other randoms that were known to the accompanied housemates. I have to admit that I had such a great time. I didn’t particularly drink that much (mainly because I don’t have the money to), I did get into a lot of obnoxious debates (in which I tended to take the minority viewpoint – just so I could argue more effectively) and I danced and sang to my little heart’s content.

Sounds perfect, doesn’t it? Well as usual with me it wasn’t all happy laughs. I did sit in the girl’s toilets in one bar and cut myself repeatedly because I didn’t know how else to cope. I did in the club go to the toilet with a friend of a friend of a friend and share a line of coke (which did absolutely nothing for me, well it did, it made me feel real and everything around me seemed extraordinarily real, but in a ‘I don’t really give a f***’ kind of way’).

So England lost the rugby, well it was a bit of a foregone conclusion wasn’t it? I mean they are entitled to one fluke every decade but unfortunately they had their’s 4 years ago against Australia. I am miffed because Rich wouldn’t let me put a bet on for South Africa to win (apparently it was a curse and wasn’t very patriotic – he takes rugby very seriously does my Rich). I eventually stumbled to bed (and not even my bed – I crashed at Rich’s) at around 2am and didn’t wake up until 10.30am. I hadn’t taken any sleeping pills, any sedatives, any painkillers or any substance to help me sleep. I guess I just felt calm and relaxed being with him.

I am not a great fan of people who talk endlessly about their wonderful boyfriend t the point that nothing else is uttered from their lips if it doesn’t mention their other half, and I don’t want to become one of those soppy girls, but I am so lucky with Rich. We have been together since we were 18, we met through a friend in a pub in London and freakily were going to undergraduate universities less than 20 miles away from each other. Last year was tough because he had graduated whilst I was in my final year (due to resitting my 2nd year) and he had moved back to London, and I’m not saying it has been a breeze in the park. I have lost count of the number of times I have stormed off from him, or he has walked away from me, in the height of an argument, or in the midst of one of my crises, but we can’t stay angry with each other for long, and we always get over things! I am so lucky to have him.

The rest of Sunday I spent very lazily. I mooched back home after lunch at about 2pm, had a bath (I had had a shower already but still didn’t feel clean), put some sloppy clothes on, watched a crap film on DVD, had a bit of a doze and here I am now. Inbetween those tasks I have cut, I have eaten and purged and I have taken OTC drugs and painkillers, but I don’t care because it has been a nice weekend and I haven’t had one of those for ages.

Am waiting tomorrow for my GP to ring me and to want to see me after my little adventure in UCH A&E. I am now glad that I am getting help as I have slipped down the slide into self-desturct so easily this weekend. OK, I didn’t end up in hospital, or crying on a street corner, or threatening to throw myself off Westminster Bridge; but I have self-harmed, I have taken drugs (of the illicit sort), I have binged and purged, I have been reliant on OTC drugs, so in the course of 7 days I have gone from thinking everything was on track, so it suddenly not being. I hate mental health things for that, unlike physical ailments where you tend to get some advanced warning of a relapse, with mental health issues they just hit you. Like that. And because they are to do with your mental health and coping system, you don’t know how to deal with them.

Ruth

It’s Turning Into A Total Fraud

I feel like I am a total fraud at the moment. This blog was started because of my dependence of OTC medicines and painkillers and it was meant to reflect what life is like living with that dependence and track my slow withdrawal from the.

Instead it has turned into a general whinging place for myself and seems to have side-tracked away from the dependency issue and back onto the self-harm, eating and paranoia issues.

I apologise for this, but what can I say? All of the above things come together with me as a package and one thing is usually worse that another at a set point in time. At the beginning of the week when I started writing it was the medicine dependency. Now, at the weekend, after withdrawing from venlafaxine, still taking OTC drugs and painkillers, self-harming and managing to drop myself back into mental health services, it seems to be all of the above.

I guess the title “Fighting The Urge” still fits, except for it’s more ‘fighting the urges’ now.

Ruth

Cutting It Fine

No pun intended at all with the title.

It refers to a nurse who rang me from my local CMHT this afternoon, at 4pm, which is what I mean by cutting it fine and just goes to reiterate my viewpoint on psychatric staff in CMHTs. If I had rung them as a patient at 4pm on a Friday afternoon with a problem, they would have said that they didn’t accept phonecalls past 4 and would have referred me to the out of hours team. However, they can ring me. Mustn’t be ungrateful though.

So, the outcome is this:

a) the CPN has contacted my GP requesting an urgent appointment with me and has forwarded on the psych report from A&E. My GP is going to ring me on Monday morning letting me know when she wants to see me.

b) the CPN has admitted my to the team as a temporary patient pending review in the working week. This is in case I end up in contact with medical services this weekend and so they know who to contact.

c) once I have seen my GP she will send a report to the CMHT who will then have to contact me within 48 hours for an initial assessment (this can be either face-to-face or by phone)

d) following that initial assessment the CPN will talk to the community psych about what input they think I need.

e) the CPN is also applying to the mental health trust where I was at uni originally to gain access to my notes to see what treatment I have already had.

It seems quite positive and by the sound of things by the end of next week I should be fully engaged with the mental health services. Well, as fully engaged as I ever engage. I’m still not sure about it but Rich thinks it is a good idea, my parents think it is a good idea (even though they don’t know about my recent little trip to A&E) and the university think it is a good idea.

I bit the bullet and went into uni today. I attended the lecture, made notes and listened. Then I found my tutor, apologised for yesterday and said I didn’t feel well. My tutor said I didn’t look good and I should see a doctor. I (quite embarassingly) burst into tears and blurted everything out, and they were a lot more sympathetic than I thought they would be. The tutor says they are not going to put in on my file unless I say so and are going to leave it in the hands of the CMHT for the moment.

Ruth

PS. On a morepositive note, it looks like this blog is beginning to take off. People are commenting and people are being referred to it from search engines with terms like “help getting off codeine and tramadol” and “taking 8mg codeine”. This is good news.

Goodbye world, hello duvet

I spent the entire day in bed today, I’m still there now. Actually, that is a lie… I didn’t spend the entire day in bed, I think I moved 3 times; once to put my phone on charge, once to get my laptop and once to take some painkillers.

I’ve had a bad day. Got really twitchy and freaked out last night, so much so that when I was on the phone to Rich he picked up that something was wrong and came over to see me. He took one look at me and knew things weren’t good. My make-up was smudged all over my face from crying, my jumper was covered in blood (I gave in and cut myself), I was shaking, I wouldn’t answer the door, then when my housemate let him in I wouldn’t open my bedroom door until he rang me and said it was him.

He took me to A&E at UCH. They were very sweet. Wanted to keep me in overnight but I wanted to come home. They let me in the end after the duty psych came and spoke to me. The duty psych is contacting my GP about things. She thinks coming off the venlafaxine so rapidly wasn’t a good idea, she also thinks coping alone isn’t a good idea. She wants me to be referred to the CMHT now and is confused as to why I haven’t been before. I told her I didn’t want psych help and she said it didn’t matter what I wanted, that I needed it. Apparently someone will call me before the end of the week, but I don’t hold out much hope for that.

Rich stayed with me last night, he just lay beside me holding me in his arms, squeezing me gently. I cried and cried and cried, which worried both of us as I don’t usually cry. I’m beginning to scare myself, I’m beginning to scare Rich, and I know my parents are worried about me. I’m telling myself I’m not that bad – if I’m scaring myself then I am OK because I realise there is a problem, but I’m not convinced.

Got an email from my tutor. Was meant to go into uni today for a tutorial but I didn’t go. I’m sure they’ll get over it but I don’t know how to explain myself. Frankly I’m not sure if I can even be bothered explaining myself anymore.

Ruth

PS. I promise normal posting will be resumed soon.

Bleak, Black Wednesday

It’s quite sunny outside, well it was until I turned round and looked out of the window whereupon a large black cloud covered the sky. Bit how my head feels really. Psyched myself up to get the prescription I have sitting in my drawer for the venlafaxine, with the idea of telling the pharmacist that I didn’t want or need the zopiclone dispensing at the same time. This would of course a) solve my problem of not having any venlafaxine, b) solve the problem of the zopiclone being on the same prescription as the venlafaxine and c) mean that I didn’t have to see the GP this week (for reasons in yesterday’s post).

Good intentions. But good intentions always go wrong don’t they? Walked outside, it was nice and sunny… then got convinced that someone was following me so decided to get on Tube and use Oyster card to go to get prescription dispensed somewhere random. Man follows me down into Tube station and uses same line as me (even though I dliberately choose an obscure one that hardly anyone uses). He gets into same carriage as me, sits on seat opposite to me. I really begin to (quite illogically) freak out here and get off 3 stops down the line at Barbican, whereupon I walk all the way back home.

I didn’t get my prescription. I got scared and panicky and came home and took too many co-codamol and tried to calm down. It worked, the tablets kicked in and I went to sleep, only just waking up now. I can’t cope – I don’t know why all my old fears and neuroses are coming out of the woodwork, but they are and I don’t like it.

Ruth