Right

CW: mental health

So it’s been a hodge podge of stuff. I’ve been struggling…but still trying. I finally rubbed two brain cells together and realised that if I’m sick of walking outside, I do have work out videos I like on You Tube. I have done a few now, so that’s better than nothing. We also need to get my treadmill fixed. A cat broke the plug so we have to change the plug.

Let’s see…so there’s the walking bit. OH! Ok. So I was moaning about how “regular” things of medical fall to the wayside due to Covid, and then after my eating disorder assessment last week, she really got the ball rolling. ROLLING. FAST. Suddenly I had blood tests, and an ECG (British for EKG), and a referral to a mental health team.

The weirdest thing about the mental health team referral is I received the phone call at 19:30 on Sunday night. !?! Anyway. The gentleman was nice but had a thick accent, and I am not…well, it’s difficult for me to process hearing. Especially without the advantage of getting to lip read. (Which is something else in this Covid world. You got people behind plexi-glass and masks…and sorry? What did you say? Pardon? Repeat that? *sigh*)

Right. So we shall see where this may lead. It sounds like they might at least find me some talk therapy. The therapy I mentioned from previous posts felt like it was offered as the be-all, end-all. As in go here and you’ll be cured, and also, if this doesn’t help you well, you are probably beyond help. Urgh. It can be difficult trying to explain without diving into real specifics and whatnot. I’m trying to remain general specifics here. Ha.

In the assessment for mental health last night, I did tell him why I didn’t think the previous therapy didn’t work. So that felt kinda good. To speak out and say Hey. This didn’t work, and this is why. Instead of feeling like a complete failure, like it was all your fault it didn’t work. I don’t know. Again, hard to explain well without lots of details.

So. Random stuff. I went for my ECG today and then hopped over to the supermarket afterwards (walking ((hopping)) distance) to buy some food stuffs. I also bought a word search puzzle book. I know I have a few around here but I’m not sure exactly where they are and it’s difficult to muster up energy to look when you’re depressed so I just effing bought a new one. £2.10 isn’t exactly breaking the bank anyway. I’ve already done a few of the puzzles. Word searches………..are not terribly mentally taxing or stimulating, but when you’re low on focus and mental energy due to depression, it’s something.

I think that’s about it right now. Going to get the vacuum out and clean up these crumbs in the lounge. (As the British say, I will do the hoovering.)

Not Going So Well

CW: eating disorders, depression

I’ve been having a difficult time this week. Depression hitting hard. Up most of the night, then sleeping nearly all day. Yelling at myself internally for doing that. That never helps, but I do it anyway.

I am a natural born night owl. So there is that. But my night owl-ness is more than socially acceptable so I try to adhere to a better schedule. Usually doesn’t work, especially when I want to sleep all day to avoid thoughts and feelings.

This lockdown, lockdown 3.5, isn’t helping either. Can’t go out and DO something. The thing we can do? Drive to get a take-out and come home and eat it. I’m sick of the sights in my neighbourhood, but there’s really no where else to go. Lots of people are out walking these days, which is nice but makes avoiding people due to Covid impossible. (Walking with a mask isn’t pleasant as I start wheezing for air.) There’s a nice lido we could walk around but I’m sure that’s crowded these days.

Anyway.

I kinda pushed thoughts of eating disorders (ED) to the back of my mind, in part because my previous therapy wanted it that way, and the appointment this week stirred things up a bit. I must say…my previous therapy, while better than nothing and it is helpful, may not have really helped me in the long run. I feel like I’m not supposed to TALK about my thoughts anymore. I’m just supposed to just fall in line and behave. It was psycho-anaylsis in a therapy community. I don’t think it really helps or works, if I’m honest. Well, not for me anyway.

We are all different. We can react differently to therapies. The person doing my ED assessment even said so. I fully understand and believe this. So, in hindsight, I do not believe my therapy was that successful for me. Which sucks because it was a 3+ year commitment and that is just time wasted. (I suppose…knowing what doesn’t work isn’t always a time waste but regardless.)

I wonder what the next therapy will bring. My assessor asked what I would like to get out of the programme/therapy and I was blank. Blank because I feel a bit defeatist and because I feel uneducated in ways to help ED.

You know what? My mind is racing in lots of different thoughts right now. Difficult to concentrate.

ETA: I just vented my frustrations to a friend. Regarding my previous therapy I managed to sum it up: Their therapies and community only works for a select few, with particular problems. They market themselves as being able to serve a large swathe of mental illnesses including eating disorders and that is wrong. In my opinion, it is very wrong. It is a niche setting for niche problems.

When I brought my issues up? I was told to bring it up in the community and groups. I did. Then I, and my issues, were ignored. I am annoyed and upset about this.

This is in the past though. I can’t change that, as much as I always want to. I need to re-adjust my head now for the future, and dig up some hope that things can be changed, things can be helped.

Here’s Your Receipt.

CW: Eating disorder appointment

I just finished my cry-fest appointment. Urgh. I am way too quick to cry. Crying comes easily to me. Stupid tears. Any emotion? BOOM. Waterworks. Ok, it’s not that bad but feels like it sometimes. Anyway, just finished my intake appointment. It was difficult. I hope I made sense. I hope I made all the important points I needed to. I kinda detached at times and just…zoned out a little bit, but did the best I could. I guess I should repeat that to myself…I did the best I could.

I have a follow up appointment in 2 weeks to discuss further treatment plans, etc.

There is one thing I really want to mention though. While I was crying, one of my cats, a flame point Siamese boy named Tonka, brought me a receipt. He knew I was upset, he heard my crying, and he grabbed whatever random thing he could find and brought it to me. Then he sat next to me the entire time. What a precious pud.

Also my husband and one of my friend’s have been checking in on me. While I don’t think I deserve it…it is sweet to remember, and a must to be grateful, for whatever support you receive.

I don’t know.

CW: Depression, animal loss

I’m just not feeling very inspired to write. Getting up in the mornings have become a monumental effort. To try and find mental energy you barely have is exhausting. And to a logical, reasonable brain, that may sound stupid. But we aren’t in logic and reason anymore, Toto.

I did suddenly flood some memories last night of precious animals I have lost in the past. Lots of pain from missing them, lots of grief, some guilt. For instance, (may as well press on while I’ve brought it up, even though I barely have the energy) back when I was working or in uni, I thought you had to be there at all times, never wavering from the job. Putting the job, classes, bosses, everything else above all, including and especially, yourself.

(Let me also interject and say that I had a massive breakdown while in uni and had to be hospitalised, and my uni handled it very well. They offered me some support, told me they will explain the big picture to my professors so they know ((not personal information)) and then all my profs were really kind and caring. I would simply like to add that because credit where credit is due for treating mental health like the real subject it is.)

Anyway. Before this I had a ferret who has been through a lot. I’ve had ferrets since I was 17 years old, and this was one of a gang at the time. Named Mordecai. We had been through a lot because basically the vet did a bad job of neutering him and he wound up with scar tissue cutting off his urethra. They did step up and did any surgeries for free, and also essentially “baby-sat” him during the day in case of emergencies while I was in classes. We removed the scar tissue, and then they put a little tube in there to encourage the urethra to regrow together. Apparently they do this for dogs a lot. After a lot of work and care and time, my sweet Mordecai pulled through.

But about 1.5 years later, I sensed something was off again. My then husband (ex now, just to be crystal clear) took him to the vet and turns out he was rapidly dying of liver cancer. I got the call on my mobile, and then returned to class with tears streaming down my cheeks. The professor, a really good one who I’ve had several classes with at that point, asked what was wrong and between him and some other classmates they convinced me to go.

I did go. And I barely reached the vet in time. I spoke to the vet at the situation, trying to bargain my way into saving him when she said “I’m sorry. Your brain knows it’s time, but your heart is having difficulty letting go.”

To put him to sleep they injected something into his stomach. I don’t know. I didn’t ask many questions, time was running out, and I was extremely emotional. I remember kissing him, and telling him how much I loved him and I will never forget him, and singing silly songs I would sing to him.

(One of them was Mordy Pordy kissed the girls and made them cry. Which is a play on that Georgie Peorgie song, and that’s why I had to change the name from George to refer to my sweetheart husband.)

I cried, but tried to hold back, and I stroked his beautiful fur. I watched his whiskers and nose twitch, and then he slipped away.

I’m a very sensitive soul, who also feels emotions very deeply. Add the cupfuls of mental illness and it can be really messy here. It hurts so much to think of my animals. To miss them. To feel like I may have done something wrong, or didn’t do enough. (This is what I like to call Emotional Cutting. My brain loves to torture me with these thoughts because it knows that’s what will hurt me every time.)

I miss all my babies. I’m having a really hard time even looking at pictures of Lethbridge right now, who we lost back in June. Isaac and I do reminisce about him, and I’m glad for that, but it always brings me to tears.

My…I don’t know what to call it…my sensitivity/emotions/mental health/brain can be described as follows: like the skin of a severe burn victim. Thin and easily hurt or damaged.

It can be really rough.

Phooey

Content Warning: Eating disorders.

So I don’t know. I started to fill out some “paperwork” ahead of my Zoom appointment next week for eating disorders clinic, and wow did it ever set me off. That was a little unexpected.

A thing about me is I am very acutely aware of my disorders. I mostly remember any and all traumas, I understand them, I know how they affect me, I am usually very aware of depression creeping in…it’s like I’m a fully functioning person, but paralysed, and so I know exactly what is being done to me, or is going on all around me. (Speaking of which, I do suffer from sleep paralysis and that is not fun either.)

The point is, I generally know what’s going on with me. Even understand it. But then there’s the other other part of me…which still gets blindsided. That’s been me all week. It has not been good nor fun. I’m muddling through the best I can, trying not to hate myself for it.

I now have a cat who is desperate for a cuddle and is needling me to death with her claws. I don’t have much else to really state at the moment.

Part Two

I’m not even sure what I’m going to write. Type. I just feel like I’ve been phoning it in and I don’t like that. It has been a struggle in my head lately. Along with overthinking. I have some forms to fill out for my virtual appointment next week with the eating disorder clinic. So I must get that done.

I finished taking down the Christmas tree. The cats were taking it down since the first day I put it up. Anyway, it’s all packed away except for some lights I put up in our windows. I’ve decided I like the ones in our bedroom so much I’m going to leave them up for however long.

I need to buy a new toilet seat. The ones in this house were the cheapest possible, but that means they don’t last. This will be my first toilet seat installation. Yay. While looking at seats online I’ve found a ton of terry cloth covers for seats. Very tempting as during the night when you get up and sit on an ice cold toilet seat it isn’t fun. But also…ew! I mean, they are easily removable and washable. Still.

Let’s get to some meat and potatoes. I’ve got some mental health diagnoses, but there is one I have been thinking about for months now. ADHD. When you hear that, the first picture that comes to mind is, and I’m sorry for having to write this cliche, a 9 year old boy who will not sit still during classes.

But somehow it’s more than that.

Mental health professionals tend to say do not get hung up on the diagnosis. I understand that, but equally…you gotta diagnose correctly to fix correctly. Can’t take a car in for a problem with the engine and walk away fixed with just a new set of tyres.

ANY. WAY. ADHD does seem to overlap heavily with one of my diagnoses. And then last night I came across this image:

Um, okay, first time trying to put a picture here so let’s see how that works. Anyway, my point is I had just texted my friend that I sleep best from about 03:00 onwards, and then this pops up. (Also, takes me a long while to wind my brain down for sleep, so this 2 hours or more they describe is completely accurate.)

You know…I’m going to go down a rabbit hole, mostly I’m done with the above subject for now anyway, but going from USA to UK has me caught between two languages and spellings. There are some easy one for me to jump to, and a few which are not. Writing my times with a period aka full stop rather than a colon has been one. The second one is not putting a full stop after a…what are those called? It’s completely skipping my head right now…but when you are called a Mister or a Doctor, those. Titles? Anyway, the point is, here in the UK they don’t use a period or full stop. So it’s just Mr Bojangles, instead of Mr. Bojangles. That one jars me a bit. Also, I believe the term full stop is what they would call a period. Ugh!! I’m getting a little confuzzled now.

I’ll tell you the BIGGEST one that hurts me. Chips. For god’s sake. When they say chips here they mean chunky fries. They do call the thinner fries, fries, like the ones from McDonald’s. Although chips can be used interchangeably.

But I get so confused because they call USA chips crisps. First of all, I hate that word. Okay, that’s a little strong. I dislike the word crisps. When I say the word I feel like I have a lisp. A crisps lisps. LOL. I’ve gotten much better of thinking of UK chips as chips. But the crisps is not an easy one for me.

I’ll end for now with one more word that jars me. Faggots. There is a meat thing here called faggots. Isaac and I watch a lot of cooking shows and they frequently make those. It makes my American ear cringe.

Alrighty. I’ve got to scoot on and do the things I’ve mentioned, then I’m going to play some Animal Crossing.

Despite My Cats Efforts

I think I have sorted out the comment situation. Found the section for commenting here on WordPress and made the changes which should be closer to what I want. But I may still have to noodle around.

I am in a petulant mood. Just don’t want to do the minutiae of life right now. I did manage to force myself to do a few household chores, which the cats “helped”, and now I’ve been trying to sort out this blog and write, and I have 2 cats trying to “help” more.

This morning while I emptied the dishwasher a few flakes of snow fell. Literally, a FEW. Lasted less than a minute. But I still enjoyed it. I am a snow bunny. Don’t get much of it here in Southern England. Anyway, I put out a few peanuts in the shell, aka Monkey Nuts as they call them here in UK, for the squirrels. I saw a magpie come along and take one, and pound it into the grass in the back. Awww. I wish I could feed and take care of all the animals in the world.

I really don’t have much else to report at the moment. I have to make some calls for tradespeople, and get to the post office at some point this week. I hate doing both of those things very much.

Whoops! Comments.

Ok. This is just another filler post. Mostly I wanted to say please bear with me as I figure out WordPress. I didn’t realise comments were automatically on moderation. I will look into that and get it sorted tomorrow.

I’ve just come back from my walk o’ the day, and I’m going to take a shower now. Where I’m going to take it, I don’t know yet.

Awake

I am up in the middle of the night. Again. I am severely irritable right now. It came on shortly before we went to bed and it just won’t go away. I finally got up to have a snack and watch some telly. I am still just as irritable. Well, fine. I will just sit and let it simmer and not fight it. Sometimes when you try and fight it, it can only make it stronger.


I will go get more water, and continue to be irritated.


Nothing in particular. Just an emotion really. I did become irritated at the cats and the ferrets, but when that happens it doesn’t usually last long. At all. The cats and ferrets were all very naughty tonight. One ferret got under the bed and refused to come out. So we had to shut the bedroom door until she came out, and that upset the cats. Then one cat settled down with me, but she spooks easily, and she got spooked and scratched me in her haste to RUN AWAY!!!!!


Right. Off to get water and sit here with my feelings.

The Next Day

When I was little, like 4 and 5 years old, all I really understood was at some “odd” time during the middle of the school year, we would suddenly call it another number. I wasn’t so interested in the mystic ways of the Julian calendar.

Oh! And I did forget to write about a little tradition my dad and I had for NYE for several years. Something from when I was 11 until 18 I believe. We would go to a downtown library and just hang out. I would find some books to check out and start reading one, he would peruse magazines like National Enquirer. Haha. No. He was an engineer and would read engineering and science magazines. Anyway. That was nice. I enjoyed that.

Isaac and I don’t do anything fancy but since our first NYE together in 2010 we have stayed up and watched fireworks on the telly. So we did that last night. We picked a channel, a BBC one I think, and watched Big Ben bong in the new year. And that was it. No fireworks. Australia, and from what I’m told New York, did them but didn’t let people come down for them. I thought maybe London would do that too, but they didn’t. I did say I was kinda glad not to “waste” budget on fireworks though. Ergo, we just watched and listened to Big Ben, and then went to some reporters who interviewed a few drunk people out and about on the streets. Yippee!

Who’s Isaac? Well, that’s my new name for my husband. Final time. Jack just didn’t suit him either so I gave up on the random name generator and decided on one.

So after having my mind in neutral for a few days, after a pretty bad mental breakdown, I feel like I can begin to think. Apparently it snowed this morning, but not heavily and didn’t settle. Isaac saw it since he’s an early bird. This is one area we do differ in 180 degrees. I’m a massive night owl, and he gets up pretty much every day like clockwork at 06:00. That is actually a great habit to get into, going to bed and rising at the same time every day, but I abhor mornings. I postpone having to get up for as long as possible. It’s not a good thing. But it is something I could try and work on. Not a resolution…well, okay, I guess it is.

Here we are. 2021. I know we just continue on with our COVID and lockdowns and Tier 116 here in London. I know we have the vaccine but still. I don’t think that’s going to be a miracle, and we still have a ways to go. Plus the mutated virus discovered here in Kent, England is now in California and Colorado. Yay! *sigh*

I’m kind of wandering all over subjects here, but here’s where I’d like to end for now. For my mental health, I would like to try to adopt better habits and behaviours which will help. They can’t necessarily hurt. I would like to rise at a predictable time in the mornings. I would like to take a walk outside for 30 minutes. I would like to try and do something else once a day, e.g. play my bass or piano (btw, cut my finger with a knife by accident while slicing onions so that one has been out until I heal but it is getting better now), read a book (I have been trying to get myself into reading my Kindle and it’s very hard going. I loved reading actual BOOKS, and had the turn-page-by-thumb down to an art), maybe take a bath AND read my Kindle in a water-proof bag, do some word search puzzles, etc. Blogging can be included but I think I should do blogging and one of the other things.

Isaac and I watched Groundhog Day today! Having mentioned it from our anniversary post several days ago, I really wanted to see it again. It’s really a good movie which holds up. Frankly, you could say the decor is outdated but I personally love Victorian decor so I’m happy with that.

That be all for now.