Taking time out.

I have *stuff* going on, and *stuff* in my head, but I seem to be having a few seconds where it comes into my mind, and then I push it under.

Some things happened in my family in April, and then it got took further in December. We heard from the people dealing with the *stuff* today. It has been really quiet since December, and over the next couple of weeks it seems like it is going to suddenly get quite busy with it all. It is like the calm before the storm right now, and I know it is only going to get harder. I did not initiate the *stuff*, but now I am involved in it. It could take a year to be dealt with, and the “ideal” outcome really is not my ideal outcome. I am kind of questioning why I am doing this. The guilt is awful, and I know the guilt should not be mine, but when it is family, it is hard. Family. Family should be all loving and stick together, and when you are basically potentially destroying your families lives, it is hard not to feel guilty. But I suppose the reality is these people are not my family. They were. Technically they are. By blood they are. But that is where it ends now. It is terrifying how much things can change in less than a year.

I also hate that I cannot talk about the *stuff*. I cannot talk about it because it is private and personal, and scary, and also probably for legal reasons. It makes it hard. I do not have “support” at the moment, but that is likely to change on Friday. I am terrified about Friday. I am being assessed for a different mental health service, after being chucked out of the other. And a non-mental health service is attending the assessment, at my home, because they want mental health services to know what is going on with my physical health so that everyone is talking to each other. I’m not keen on this; I like to tell people what I want them to know, I like to be in control of who knows what. Nor am I keen on them all coming to my house. I will be glad when Friday morning is over. It has been hanging over me all week. I am barely sleeping, and we all know lack of sleep is never a good thing. It would be nice to fall asleep without hours of waiting for it to happen, and it would be even nicer to stay asleep. My medication does not seem to be helping, which is odd.

I have been looking, and applying, for graduate schemes. In the back of my head I know that my plan should be to take a year out, or at the maximum, carrying on studying. The service that chucked me out, do want to take me back on once it has been a year from discharge, if I am “ready”. It is just such a huge commitment, both emotionally and in terms of time – it is a day programme for 12 months, plus a few months before and after at reduced days per week. I do not know if I can face going back there, but I know that is not a good reason not to. I also do not want to invest into going back there, and it not work out. I cannot handle failing twice. I was supposed to go and do it during my masters, and that plan fell apart when I was chucked out. They probably would not describe it as being chucked out, but that is the reality of the situation.

It is also the whole taking a year out for “treatment” thing. It feels bad. It feels like failure. I kind of want to stop applying for jobs and graduate schemes, purely because I do not want to end up in a position where I have to turn interviews or an offer down. Like, what if I get a fantastic opportunity that could help me with my career? That has the potential to be the stepping stone into my ideal future, and I have to say no, sorry, because I am going to be a “patient”. I do not want the patient identity to be everything I am for a year. I also know if I had a physical illness I would feel differently. But it is not really something you can whack on your CV. And it is hard to feel OK with explaining a gap in my CV when it is for what it is. If I had a physical illness I would just say “I had a year out because I had (insert illness)”…but this will never be that easy.

But then, what is one year if it changes my life? I am not going to sit here and feel sorry for myself. I have to turn whatever choice I make into a positive. Nothing is bad or good, it is what you do with it that makes it bad or good. I firmly believe that. A positive mental attitude is required.

I know the sensible thing to do. I just do not like it.

This was not the situation I was supposed to be back in, again, but it is the situation and I can own it, or I can let it control me. I do not have to let the “patient” identity be my identity, even if I go down that route of taking time out. I can volunteer, I can write, I can do other things.

And at the end of the day, other peoples opinions are not really that important. If people do not like what I am doing, or think less of me for it, that really is not my problem. And will people even do that? Or am I stigmatising myself?

I am really interested in the concept of the “stigmatised” assuming the stigma is there, and paradoxically causing themselves to be stigmatised. I am probably guilty of it. Is being open really as bad as it feels? If I take a year out, and then go to an interview and respond to the questioning of what I did in that year truthfully, and tell them the other things I did in that year, will people think what I think they will?

We cannot assume what people are thinking. People are entitled to be given the chance to think for themselves.

 

 

 

It’s update time again!

I started my six week internship on Monday. I was meant to start two weeks ago, but unfortunately ended up in hospital twice.

I had no belief in myself that I could work. I thought that there was no way I am confident enough…no way I was going to get myself there. The two hospital admissions served as further evidence of this. Fast forward to Monday 8:20am, leaving the house to get there…and it hit me…the “normal” worries. Can I do the work? What if I can’t? What if I make them regret taking interns from my university? I had been so worried about not being able to even get myself there, that I had somehow forgotten about the more important worries.

Well, it has been fabulous. I am fortunate that both my university, and the place I am working for, have been very accommodating, and although they do not know it, have helped me stop myself from self-sabotaging.

I am working for a charity, as a Campaigns and Communications Officer, working primarily on one campaign. Everything is good. The routine and structure is good for me. The people I work with are lovely, the charity itself is amazing. When I applied for this intern scheme, I never expected to be so lucky to get the perfect match; not only am I doing a role I would love to do in the future as a career, but I am also working for the kind of place I would love to work for.

My work is especially geared around social media – scheduling posts and analytics. As well as drafting emails, promoting our campaign strategies etc.

My normal life is quite unstructured, especially as I do my own research at university, and therefore have minimal contact time. My sleep routine is less than healthy, and my iron levels dropped in December to borderline transfusion level. I felt like the odds of coping with working were against me. And yet the hours go SO quickly. I would work here part-time for free, without a doubt. I am so interested in what I am doing, I find myself researching and keeping an eye on one of our campaign strategies as soon as I get home. Heck, I check one right before I go to sleep!

The hardest part has to be managing my medical appointments. At the moment I have no contact with mental health services, other than the crisis team which is due to end tomorrow (and they can see me late evenings, so outside of office hours), but I am seeing two outpatient clinics for physical health problems plus another service. I feel like I live in hospital at the moment. I was at the hospital yesterday, and the day before, and two days before that. I finished work just after 5pm today, and went straight to the hospital. Tomorrow I am back at the hospital again for an X-Ray and then for a fracture clinic appointment. Then I am seeing my support worker at university, followed by the crisis team. I want to fit the gym in somewhere, but I am not sure where!

I am kind of relieved that my referral to CMHT is being messed about with. Every week I am told this is the week I will hear from them, and every week I don’t. I’m not sure I have the time for them right now, nor do I particularly want to engage in mental health services anymore. I was discharged from the two services I was under in November and December. The November one was due to being classed as “too high risk” for what they offer, and the December one was because the person I saw retired, and I no longer required help for that aspect of my problems – it was the Anorexia Nervosa service from where I am originally from, and I am doing well in that respect. I must admit it is nice not to travel back home every week! I’m finding I prefer not being under anyone at the moment. It’s a nice break from 10 years of mental health services. Whether it’s a good thing, or a bad thing, is debatable.

The service I was discharged from in November want me to consider returning there in a years time, when I am more stable. But it’s a three day per week day programme, for one year. Plus a prep group before you do that for a maximum of 6 months, and an after group as well, for six months. As a member of the main programme you are also expected to run the prep group in blocks, increasing it to four days per week at times.

I’d rather not go back to a place that made me feel the way it did, with people I would honestly rather never see again in my life. I’d rather do my PhD full time without juggling therapy, or get a full time job in the field I am passionate about.

Right now, I am focusing on managing this internship and my medical appointments, and I need to make sure I get on top of my MA work. I will re-assess after the internship.

For now, I’m going to focus on the fact that I am doing this, and that I am more capable than I realise. I don’t know how many positive experiences it is going to take for me to learn this!

Update!

I am going back to university to do my MA on the 3rd of October and WHERE DID TIME GO?! I had so many plans to get ahead on work ready for this and yup, that did not happen. Summer has been weird. At the start I lost contact with my Dad, and then a bit later on I lost contact with my grandparents too. I started the therapeutic community and that has been draining. 16 hours per week. I mean, it’s not that many hours, but it’s so draining, plus I’m anaemic again and I’ve been messing around with my medication and I’ve also been travelling home every Friday to see my psychiatrist. I’ve been living in a nightmare house. Sleeping every opportunity I get because of my medication. Then my sister ended up back on the psych ward for a couple of months. Then I went to Morocco, caught a stomach bug and then got sunstroke, which has taken about three weeks to recover from and I’m still not 100%. I literally got off the plane at Luton airport and was put into a wheelchair because I couldn’t even manage to walk. Then I screwed up with my treatment and went into self-destruct mode, which I think ended yesterday thank the lord!

Today I house hunted with my friend I lived with in 2nd and 3rd year because she has decided to move back here and do a MA too, and her boyfriend. And we went for lunch (!!!) and then I went into town to pick up a book I ordered. I’m considering changing my research so I’m doing some reading. I got ‘Unbearable Weight’ by Susan Bordo. Then I went to the gym, came home and showered and did my make-up again, and in 40 minutes I’m going back out to the cinema! I also saw a nurse from the inpatient unit I was in during 2008/9 which was weird because we’re 2 hours away from where she lived/I lived. I didn’t say anything because I was sure it couldn’t be her, but I’ve spoken to a nurse I have contact with and it turns out it was her, she is doing a clinical psychology degree at my university! Small world.

I also have two blog posts in the making which feels lovely. I’ve lost my way with my writing over the last few months and I didn’t realise how much I miss it. Writing again feels like coming home.