Saturday, 9 July 2011


it's been possibly one of the worst weeks i have had this year.  And that's saying something.  the trouble is, i'm one of those people who looks well when i'm not, and looks together and positive, when actually i am feeling desperate and completely without hope.  and so it goes on.

i have been trying to get hold of my care co, stormin norm, all week.  As per usual, whenever i call i get a relayed message telling me he's busy, or with someone else.  only this week there was a new angle he played; he has a student.  Now, as you might have read before, i don't mind students as a rule.  I think that they have to learn somewhere, and where better than with real patients?  However, this was different.  i was not at any point asked if i would mind seeing a student, it was just presented as a fait accompli.  And this student, laura, appeared to have been debriefed about my life in total.  the trouble is, again, the computer system they use; rio, is packed full of inaccurate information.  So instead of getting my history from me, she got it from a series of notes that are wrong.  so i feel a bit angry and let down.  because now, whenever i ring my care co, i get laura the student.  and sometimes, you need the organ grinder, not the monkey.

i need a report for my ESA form, which i have to send in by friday.  and laura can't write it.  I need the results of the blood test I had taken on Monday.  And laura isn't allowed to give me an interpretation of those.  I need the dose of my lithium reviewing.  And bloody laura can't do that.  And i need to talk to somebody about why i have a repeated urge to cut my own throat.  And again, bloody laura would probably freak out the minute the knife appeared.  I don't want to do it, for the record, i just feel as if i am propelled by the voices in my head to do it.  i supposed it might speed up the tracheal transplant.  i have a lovely little knife, it's very shiny and tremendously sharp.  And should the police ever read this; i will never harm a hair on another human being.  All of my destructive voices want me dead, noone else.  but basically, i need bloody stupid norm, and he has chosen now to start playing silly buggers.  Great timing fella.

my airway is full of gunge and goo, and i feel just lousy.  I don't know if my mind is influencing my body, or vice versa.  it's difficult, isn't it?

i asked for help, btw, several times.  It seems that monday will truly be the day of judgement, won't it?


  1. I say this because I care.
    But perhaps those who are supposed to help feel stuck in a rut.
    There is only so much they can do to help in crisis and as you know prevention is better than cure.
    They gave you the meds to stop you feeling like this, like they have done on several occasions throughout your blog. But you know better and stop. And then you end up here again. Where there is very little they can do, but restart the meds, wait for them to work, and invariably wait for you to once again stop them.

  2. I totally appreciate what you said, and there's no denying it's all true. i like to be involved in my care, and all my doctors seem to let me. It stops me feeling out of control, and helps me to live with whatever's going on in my head. But these bloody psychiatrists still have that old school 'me doctor, me god' approach, and it's that which sets me off everytime.

    and you're right about the pills. I take them, i get well, i go off them, i get manic. i know it academically but i don't know how to STOP....

    Sleep would help, i supposed, lol.... take care my friend, and good luck to you on monday x