Two days and no post! Nothing wrong here folks, just been taking it so very easy that I didn't deem it necessary to post about more pyjama days and television watching.
But here is one of the first cohesive scribbles from my time in hospital. Enjoy.
"I'm being encouraged to socialise.
My doctor, the nurses, they all want me to be engaging with others. They encourage me to attend group sessions or spend time in the patient lounge with the other patients. One nurse even went so far as to suggest I talk to people while I'm out in the smokers courtyard but he did follow that up by saying smoking is bad for my health.
I've found group sessions to be of little use since they're full of patients with limited insight, facilitated by health professionals who treat patients like kindergarten children (and provide information at that level too; "bipolar disorder is typified by two states; elevated and depressed!") and anyway, the sessions are usually hijacked by some middle-aged housewife aggrieved by the time her neighbour didn't say hi to her in the street.
And as for the patient lounge, the only thing there is a television, the remote for which is ruled over by a stony-faced woman who seems determined to watch whatever is the very worst thing on television at the time. Besides, I have a television in my room.
I prefer to watch the other patients, not interact with them.
I have favourite patients to watch too. There's Janette, a depressed lady who never gets out of her nightie but instead pulls a long, black, elastic-waisted skirt on over the top, right up to underneath her pendulous boobs, when the nurses tell her she needs to get dressed. I've heard the nurses entreat her to shower but I don't think they have been successful lately. Her pink, cotton nightie ironically has a decal on it which says 'fresh as a daisy'.
There's Francesca, a diminutive woman I first encountered when she was throwing a hissy fit over her hair straightener at the nurses station. She's made a friend now, Keryn, a nervous wreck who Francesca bosses and dotes on. You'll see Francesca ordering Keryn where to sit in the cafeteria and then bustling off to get her some jelly, like a mother rewarding a well behaved child.
There's Michael, a great mountain of a man who lumbers through the corridors seemingly unaware of his surroundings, eyelids drooping and his large mouth perpetually open. His massive body is hunched towards his enormous, protruding and often exposed pot belly, perfectly round like a basketball. I'm curious about the crucifix he wears around his neck. I wonder what comfort he finds in Jesus in a place like this.
No, I don't think I'll socialise, I think I'll just observe."
Sunday 30 December 2012
Thursday 27 December 2012
Nystagmus
I woke up to my alarm, remembered my morning medication, got on the bus and made it in to work on time. Wahey! This going to work business is a breeze!
I had expected I was going to be tired but nothing prepared me for how tired I actually was. When lunch time rolled around I wanted to curl up in a ball. Instead I went to the IGA across the road and bought corn chips and fruit chews for the office. When I'm tired I snack.
The other thing I've found out happens when I'm tired is my nystagmus kicks it up a notch.
Nystagmus is an involuntary movement of the eyes. I noticed that this started happening after my lithium was increased and indeed it is one of the known side effects of taking lithium. It would only happen every few hours and as it's only a quick flickering of the eyes it didn't bother me too much.
Tired and staring at a computer screen for hours and it started happening every few minutes, sometimes more frequently. This was particularly frustrating when I was trying to focus on things like numbers or dates or seating charts or little old lady handwriting or any of the other squillion things that I have to look at in my job.
There wasn't much I could do. In fact I don't think there is much I can do. I'm not going to compromise my mental health by stopping taking the lithium. I guess I'm just going to have to get used to blurry vision and do the best I can around it.
I'm in bed now, eyes darting wildly every minute or so and keen to get off to sleep. I have another big day of work tomorrow and a visit from my lovely but tireless nephews tomorrow evening.
Good night.
I had expected I was going to be tired but nothing prepared me for how tired I actually was. When lunch time rolled around I wanted to curl up in a ball. Instead I went to the IGA across the road and bought corn chips and fruit chews for the office. When I'm tired I snack.
The other thing I've found out happens when I'm tired is my nystagmus kicks it up a notch.
Nystagmus is an involuntary movement of the eyes. I noticed that this started happening after my lithium was increased and indeed it is one of the known side effects of taking lithium. It would only happen every few hours and as it's only a quick flickering of the eyes it didn't bother me too much.
Tired and staring at a computer screen for hours and it started happening every few minutes, sometimes more frequently. This was particularly frustrating when I was trying to focus on things like numbers or dates or seating charts or little old lady handwriting or any of the other squillion things that I have to look at in my job.
There wasn't much I could do. In fact I don't think there is much I can do. I'm not going to compromise my mental health by stopping taking the lithium. I guess I'm just going to have to get used to blurry vision and do the best I can around it.
I'm in bed now, eyes darting wildly every minute or so and keen to get off to sleep. I have another big day of work tomorrow and a visit from my lovely but tireless nephews tomorrow evening.
Good night.
Wednesday 26 December 2012
Happy Boxing Day
Today was spent on the couch, digesting all of yesterday's overindulgences and watching DVDs that Santa had been kind enough to deliver (Annie followed by The Dark Knight Rises - you'd think they wouldn't work as a double feature but somehow they did).
At the end of this pyjama day I have lain out an outfit and now I'm packing my handbag and wondering what I'm forgetting in preparation for work tomorrow.
I suppose some anxiety about returning to work is normal for anyone who has been away from work for a significant period of time. But acknowledging that some general anxiety is normal isn't making my specific anxiety go away.
I have small fears; that I'll sleep through my alarm, that I'll forget to take my medication in the morning, that my Myki balance will have mysteriously been depleted and I'll be denied access onto the bus. I need to now practice a bit of the acceptance and commitment therapy we covered in hospital and accept that I'm feeling this anxiety and allow it to be and to pass. And if I do sleep in or have public transport frustrations there is always CBT and I can recognise that if in fact I'm late or even, god forbid, absent from work tomorrow then it will not be the end of the world, no matter what the Mayans say.
But I do so hope I make that bus.
I'm eager to take some forward steps and so scared I might fail again.
I think that because I associate failure with relapse it is made so much worse. I need to keep it in mind that even if I do not succeed at some everyday tasks that it doesn't mean I'm doomed to end up in hospital again. I've had a long period of respite and while I still feel weak I may be stronger than I give myself credit for.
But this is enough of blogging. I have work in the morning. Wish me luck.
At the end of this pyjama day I have lain out an outfit and now I'm packing my handbag and wondering what I'm forgetting in preparation for work tomorrow.
I suppose some anxiety about returning to work is normal for anyone who has been away from work for a significant period of time. But acknowledging that some general anxiety is normal isn't making my specific anxiety go away.
I have small fears; that I'll sleep through my alarm, that I'll forget to take my medication in the morning, that my Myki balance will have mysteriously been depleted and I'll be denied access onto the bus. I need to now practice a bit of the acceptance and commitment therapy we covered in hospital and accept that I'm feeling this anxiety and allow it to be and to pass. And if I do sleep in or have public transport frustrations there is always CBT and I can recognise that if in fact I'm late or even, god forbid, absent from work tomorrow then it will not be the end of the world, no matter what the Mayans say.
But I do so hope I make that bus.
I'm eager to take some forward steps and so scared I might fail again.
I think that because I associate failure with relapse it is made so much worse. I need to keep it in mind that even if I do not succeed at some everyday tasks that it doesn't mean I'm doomed to end up in hospital again. I've had a long period of respite and while I still feel weak I may be stronger than I give myself credit for.
But this is enough of blogging. I have work in the morning. Wish me luck.
Monday 24 December 2012
Friends
I've been looking on Facebook at photos from a party yesterday. It was my friend's 40th birthday and I wasn't invited.
This wasn't an invitation lost in the mail or some oversight, I checked with my friend's wife and she told me that the experience of me going missing had been emotionally distressing for both of them so she thought it would be better if I didn't come.
These are people I considered to be close friends. I was in their wedding party a decade ago, I know their parents and their children know me. But as I'm learning, things have changed with the people I considered friends.
I know I scared everyone when I went missing. I know that it was confronting for people to learn I was in a psychiatric hospital and I know that mental illness is a scary, strange thing still surrounded by taboo that makes many people uncomfortable. But I'm still a person. I'm still Katie. I still want and need friends and so many of them have been missing lately.
Mental illness is an isolating experience. Your internal world looms larger than life making connecting with the external world a challenge. It can, like any illness, affect your ability to be in social situations. It's also made challenging by the fact that it feels like nobody understands what you're going through.
One of the best things about being in hospital was being around people who understood. When asked how you were, a simple shake of the head could communicate something comprehensible and well understood. But a lot of the time I was in hospital, I was in fact fine apart from being sick. I was tired, weak and flat, same as would be expected if I were recovering from the flu or following surgery.
The few wonderful, precious friends who visited me found me just like this; flat, tired, but essentially still the same person. These were the same friends who texted to check in on the progress I was making, texts which buoyed me and really did help restore me to my normal self.
The rest of my friends were missing.
It was my turn to experience what a scary things it is when this happens. My fear now, especially following my shunning from a social event, is that they might never come back.
Being friends with a person with mental illness can be a terrifying, confronting experience. But to the person who is experiencing the mental health crisis it is the most warming, reaffirming thing they could possibly hope for.
I will never stop being grateful to my little band of lifesavers who came to me when I was most in need. And as for the rest, well, I wait to see if they ever return.
This wasn't an invitation lost in the mail or some oversight, I checked with my friend's wife and she told me that the experience of me going missing had been emotionally distressing for both of them so she thought it would be better if I didn't come.
These are people I considered to be close friends. I was in their wedding party a decade ago, I know their parents and their children know me. But as I'm learning, things have changed with the people I considered friends.
I know I scared everyone when I went missing. I know that it was confronting for people to learn I was in a psychiatric hospital and I know that mental illness is a scary, strange thing still surrounded by taboo that makes many people uncomfortable. But I'm still a person. I'm still Katie. I still want and need friends and so many of them have been missing lately.
Mental illness is an isolating experience. Your internal world looms larger than life making connecting with the external world a challenge. It can, like any illness, affect your ability to be in social situations. It's also made challenging by the fact that it feels like nobody understands what you're going through.
One of the best things about being in hospital was being around people who understood. When asked how you were, a simple shake of the head could communicate something comprehensible and well understood. But a lot of the time I was in hospital, I was in fact fine apart from being sick. I was tired, weak and flat, same as would be expected if I were recovering from the flu or following surgery.
The few wonderful, precious friends who visited me found me just like this; flat, tired, but essentially still the same person. These were the same friends who texted to check in on the progress I was making, texts which buoyed me and really did help restore me to my normal self.
The rest of my friends were missing.
It was my turn to experience what a scary things it is when this happens. My fear now, especially following my shunning from a social event, is that they might never come back.
Being friends with a person with mental illness can be a terrifying, confronting experience. But to the person who is experiencing the mental health crisis it is the most warming, reaffirming thing they could possibly hope for.
I will never stop being grateful to my little band of lifesavers who came to me when I was most in need. And as for the rest, well, I wait to see if they ever return.
Sunday 23 December 2012
He knows if you've been bad or good...
If he really does know if I've been bad or good, I'd like a word with Santa.
I've been keeping myself busy today; gym, pre-Christmas cooking, present wrapping, planning a trip back to the States. I took a moment after dinner to sit alone and smoke a cigarette (filthy habit I picked up again this breakdown) and I felt a bit flat.
I tried really hard to work out if it was feeling down or just having a tired moment. It's hard to know whether I should panic over every little dip in mood or ride things out to see what the overall trend is. I'm worried I'll keep excusing bad moments and assume that things will get better until my life is full of just bad moments and I'm suddenly paralysed by despair. On the other hand, I can't spend my time overanalysing each and every fluctuation or I will drive myself insane.
For the most part, it was a day of good moments, particularly good was Skyping with my best friend in the US and eating some nice Gouda, so I'm calling it a good day.
I've been keeping myself busy today; gym, pre-Christmas cooking, present wrapping, planning a trip back to the States. I took a moment after dinner to sit alone and smoke a cigarette (filthy habit I picked up again this breakdown) and I felt a bit flat.
I tried really hard to work out if it was feeling down or just having a tired moment. It's hard to know whether I should panic over every little dip in mood or ride things out to see what the overall trend is. I'm worried I'll keep excusing bad moments and assume that things will get better until my life is full of just bad moments and I'm suddenly paralysed by despair. On the other hand, I can't spend my time overanalysing each and every fluctuation or I will drive myself insane.
For the most part, it was a day of good moments, particularly good was Skyping with my best friend in the US and eating some nice Gouda, so I'm calling it a good day.
Saturday 22 December 2012
Merry go round days
A merry go round day; up and down and slightly exhilarating.
I went to the gym for the first time in forever. I also finished my Christmas shopping and cooked dinner for my aunt and uncle. Quite virtuous really!
My energy waned mid-afternoon, a lull I've noticed often affects my mood. When possible I sneak in naps but I'll need to ensure I can make it through the day nap free before I get back to work.
At work there's always the 3pm coffee break and visit to the chocolate box I suppose. But I'll need to start watching what I eat and keep up the effort at the gym if I want to abort this seroquel baby (it's what those of us in hospital, puffed up after taking seroquel called our pot bellies). At the moment I look like I'm about 10 months pregnant and it's only my clothes with forgiving elastic waistbands that actually fit.
Tomorrow is supposed to be stinking hot so I'm going to see how much of the day I can spend prostrate under an air-conditioner. And go to the gym. Positive, proactive plans.
I went to the gym for the first time in forever. I also finished my Christmas shopping and cooked dinner for my aunt and uncle. Quite virtuous really!
My energy waned mid-afternoon, a lull I've noticed often affects my mood. When possible I sneak in naps but I'll need to ensure I can make it through the day nap free before I get back to work.
At work there's always the 3pm coffee break and visit to the chocolate box I suppose. But I'll need to start watching what I eat and keep up the effort at the gym if I want to abort this seroquel baby (it's what those of us in hospital, puffed up after taking seroquel called our pot bellies). At the moment I look like I'm about 10 months pregnant and it's only my clothes with forgiving elastic waistbands that actually fit.
Tomorrow is supposed to be stinking hot so I'm going to see how much of the day I can spend prostrate under an air-conditioner. And go to the gym. Positive, proactive plans.
Friday 21 December 2012
And once again...
Discharge day.
I feel a lot more prepared for that big, scary outside world than I did last time I got out of hospital.
I went through a few more weeks of hellish moods and zero energy, I had my medication upped and tinkered with and then I finally turned a corner.
I swear it's the lithium. It's my wonder drug. A blood test revealed that my lithium levels were low so my daily dose was increased and almost instantly I perked up.
For good measure I'm also taking lamotrigine, lexapro, cymbalta, seroquel and zyprexa. Phew! If you shake me I rattle like a pill bottle. True story.
I'm going to keep up the blogging to chart my mood and force myself to write cohesively (hopefully) once a day. I might also transcribe some of my scribblings from my hospital stay. But for now I unpack and look optimistically towards the next few days.
I feel a lot more prepared for that big, scary outside world than I did last time I got out of hospital.
I went through a few more weeks of hellish moods and zero energy, I had my medication upped and tinkered with and then I finally turned a corner.
I swear it's the lithium. It's my wonder drug. A blood test revealed that my lithium levels were low so my daily dose was increased and almost instantly I perked up.
For good measure I'm also taking lamotrigine, lexapro, cymbalta, seroquel and zyprexa. Phew! If you shake me I rattle like a pill bottle. True story.
I'm going to keep up the blogging to chart my mood and force myself to write cohesively (hopefully) once a day. I might also transcribe some of my scribblings from my hospital stay. But for now I unpack and look optimistically towards the next few days.
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