Saturday, 18 June 2011

I'm going slightly mad...cough cough cough.

Greetings peoples,

Ah, today has been fun.  I missed most of it!!  For one reason of another, I was up pretty much all night rowing with the Mr, and we finally made it to bed at 6 30 am ish.  So I didn't get out of bed until 4pm.  I whacked on the Tudors box set (which by the way is outstandingly fun) and set about making some more squared for my crochet patchwork blanket.  And of course, I spent an hour or three on the obligatory nebuliser, which was more productive than usualy owing to the large amount of time I'd spent in bed.

But that was it, the sum contribution of me to Saturday.  Breathing difficulties really do limit your horizons somewhat.  And besides that I had the munchies.  I don't normally have a sweet tooth, but for some reason I couldn't get enough today.  Back on the wagon tomorrow (or technically today). 

Did I mention I've quit the lithium?  I know, I know, risk of relapse and catastrophic psychosis.  I get it.  My motivation for stopping wasn't a snap reaction to a firmly held delusion about poisoning and mind control.  Oh no, it was far better than that.  I started to have palpitations and genuinely began to fear that the medication is damaging my body.  So I made the educated decision to not refill my prescription, and just took one less pill every day for a fortnight until they ran out, which is when I quit cold turkey.  So I've been lithium free since wednesday last week.  So far I feel different.  I feel more lively for sure.  And I don't have that awful dragging tiredness that has been plaguing me recently.  I am starting to feel very elevated, you know, very upbeat and extremely optimistic.  I'm having racing thoughts and other people are starting to tell me to slow down.  And my temper is returning in full force, I'm getting easily agitated and irritable.  But I can live with this all, lol, because I honestly just feel so good right now.  Obviously not physically good, I mean everything hurts like hell all the time and I can't walk, talk or breathe easily or indeed well.  But mentally I have this amazing sense of well being.  I feel like the kid on the Ready Brek advert, y'know, with the glowing orange aura.  I received a letter from Dr Dunne (the psychiatrists) secretary, and they have moved the appointment that I asked them to move forwards back again, so noone can say I didn't even try and talk with him first, can they now?

And as for Norman the care coordinator, don't even get me started! I went to appointment after appointment because they were quite insistent that I needed him to improve my life, and I can state to date there is nothing he has filled in or arranged or even done that I feel will help me in my personal recovery journey.  Not a thing.  He's a nice chap and all that, but I get the feeling that as far as professionals go, he really isn't.  He's a little too lazy and disorganised to achieve much.  I haven't even seen a care plan, so don't have a clue what he's supposed to be doing for me, and I've been seeing him for over a year and a half, almost two years.  Only a mental health team would hire people like that.  My local trust is full of 'them', people with good intentions who do very little and pass swift judgement on their clients if they don't do exactly as instructed.  The system is unequal, and I will fight until my dying breath to advocate for mental health service users who need it.   Okay, it's safe to come out now.  Rant over.

My beloved is snoring away already, so it's almost time for me to log off and plug in to my IPod, the only thing that drowns out the sucking and grunting noises he makes in his sleep.  To be fair, he also talks in his sleep which is very cute, especially when he says something like love you, and smiles :oD

Sweet dreams, and keep on breathing.  Seize the day!!!

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