littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (SMOOCH!)
Ahahaha! The shrink, he has spoken, and he has said that I'm making such good progress that one last appointment to check all's well, and they'll discharge me back into normal GP care!

And the Melanie visits will be ending shortly after that too...

Wow.
littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (Default)
Can't sleep again - got my quarterly check-up from the neck up tomorrow. While I know that this consists of nothing more than five minutes in the company of a completely different shrink to last time, during which I will probably only have to give one word answers to three or less questions in order to satisfy them that I'm not going to go out and destroy society or some shit (read: I'm doing well and getting out more), I still get nervous. Mostly because I don't want my meds put back up again - did the zombie thing, doesn't work for me. I quite like being able to think and react to things, and not just have to sleep all the time, thank you very much.

Still, I may very well be able to persuade dad to take me into Waterstones afterwards... yay books!
littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (kermit [credit: sdwolfpup])
I caught the train today.

We planned it last time, but I didn't want to say anything in case it all went to shit again.

But it didn't.

And I got the train home too, rather than wimping out and getting the bus.

Jaqui talked incessantly (mostly about the westlife gig she was at last night in Belfast) but even so, I still managed to get though it. Even though I've not slept for the last three days.

I am very chuffed!
littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (Default)
What a day.

My appointment was at four. So at five to four I present myself at outpatients reception, same as usual... just for the befuddled receptionist to inform me that Head Honcho doesn't have a surgery in the hospital on Tuesdays, I should be in the psychiatric unit. She gave me long convoluted directions that took me past the morgue only for me to wind up in the psychiatric ward. Not the nicest place in the world to be when you're feeling fragile. There was no-one there - doctor wise - so I made my way back out to the cafe, collected dad and set him on the receptionist. Oh, no you're actually supposed to be at the mental health centre a mile back out the road, (even though the letter said HOSPITAL) so sorry! So off we trot... to get there and find that the hospital, who said they'd let them know we were coming, didn't, and Head Honcho had gone to the psychiatric unit... back at the hospital! So we went back to the hospital, and, after discovering that I couldn't have got though to this part of the hospital from inside anyway as the inner doors are kept locked (reassuring... not.), found him... and he increased my dosage by half a tablet daily.

Life is wonderful.

On the plus side, I was very decadent, bought two macroons, and two issues of this weeks radio times (one Ant cover, one Dec cover...) yes, I know, very sad! I'll read the Dec cover and keep the Ant one ;-)
littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (Default)
Melanie the occupational therapist was here today... unscheduled visit, more about that in a mo. We went through some more of her factsheets, and made plans for her to take me into town in a fortnight as a kind of halfway step to going in by myself.

After she went mum cornered me, wanting to know if she'd talked to me about the whole long term 'where is this therapy taking me' thing. No, was the short answer. Boy was mum pissed off... you see Melanie was here early because mum phoned her a couple of days ago to tell her that I was down and depressed about the whole thing, Melanie only arranged the visit yesterday. I'd told mum as much when I got a little down about it a few weeks ago. Before I would have been pissed off about her going behind my back, but I understand that she wants to help, and I appriciate it. I guess what worried me a little is that their whole priority seems to be getting me out and about, and little else. Melanie said to mum, that dealing with that was the final thing, the whole end piece, and she'd have a word with me today about what the whole thing entails.

She didn't. It took mum to tell me why she was even here in the first place.

I'm always left feeling a bit breathless by her visits, if I'm being honest. It's not that they're fast, she's usually here for about an hour... it's just that she sits and tells me all this stuff, and gives me all these handouts... and a lot of it I already know, but I'm damned if I can even get a word in to say as much...

And I'd just like to know what filling in all these worksheets and survey type things is going to do for me. It's not as if she's getting information, it's all 'for your own use, I'll just leave it with you and let you look over it in your own time'.

Mind, if it gets me out and about on my own without having a major panic attack, I'll not mind... it's just that that isn't all that's going on in my life... and I'm not even sure about the rest of it... oh I dunno, maybe I'm expecting too much.

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littlemoose: A photograph of a vivd blue swallowtail butterfly against an orange stucco wall (Default)
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December 2011

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