First she doesn't blog for a month then she blogs twice in two days! What's with this chick?!
I'm having hesitations about moving out of my share house. While there are definitely negative features to living here, namely the anti-socialness of my housemates which has led to a feeling of isolation, there are also some advantages to living here. The location is ideal for me. An easy tram ride to work and a shared taxi ride home with so many of my compatriot drinking buddies. Plus I'm super close to Cinema Nova so if I'm ever in a film going mood it's a short journey. There is also the fact that I'm living independently and as a soon to be 32 year old this seems like the state in which I should be living.
The advantages of moving back in with my parents would be that I'd save a tonne of money, I'd have people to talk to when I'm at home, I wouldn't have to cook for myself and I'd get to watch whatever I want on the telly since my parents have 2 TVs.
I just don't know. I'm so conflicted. Decision making is hard. I feel like I've made enough questionable decisions in recent memory that trying to trust my own judgment is a really hard task. I think perhaps I shouldn't rush this decision and by that I mean I should perhaps let one more rent cycle pass by. It's only another $850 (ok, actually, that's a lot of money) and it means I don't have to go through the hassle of moving just yet (is that worth $850?).
Like I said, I just don't know. Life's hard. Don't you feel that sometimes?
Thursday, 24 October 2013
Wednesday, 23 October 2013
Ups and downs
Well the ups is my Effexor has been upped after a stressful shaky week. It has had the desired effect and I've been once again lifted from that dangerous precipice.
The downs is I got dangerously close to that dangerous precipice again.
A couple of factors were surely at play. Work stresses (ho-hum), a wedding (long story - it was a lovely affair but my issues surrounding how I look all came bubbling to a head and I was also fearful I was going to have a confrontation with another of the guests) and the last thing, my living arrangements.
I feel in some ways I've been unfair to my current household. I was hesitant about moving in here and rather than letting go I've let those hesitations fester into a deep seated dissatisfaction with everything about the place and it's inhabitants. I've been escaping to my parents house on a weekly basis which has further fuelled my anxieties about my actual home as my absence makes me feel disconnected and like I must appear odd to my housemates.
I've had many long thinks, a couple of good cries and one particularly insightful session with my psychiatrist in which I came to the conclusion that I shouldn't be paying good money to live so unhappily.
So where to next? Well steel yourselves folks, it looks like I'm about to take the ultimate plunge into Loserville and move back in with my parents. And just in time for summer too!
Honestly though, it shouldn't be that bad. I get along well with Mum and Dad and the money I save on rent can all be funnelled towards travel plans I have for next year (The States. Again.) I've got a very good potential living arrangement due to come to fruition in about February next year so it should only be a fairly temporary arrangement. And if I'm finding it too much to bear I can always go through the gruelling process of finding another share house, hopefully one where I can feel more at ease.
So, that wraps up another exciting instalment of my life. Send me good wishes for the next one.
The downs is I got dangerously close to that dangerous precipice again.
A couple of factors were surely at play. Work stresses (ho-hum), a wedding (long story - it was a lovely affair but my issues surrounding how I look all came bubbling to a head and I was also fearful I was going to have a confrontation with another of the guests) and the last thing, my living arrangements.
I feel in some ways I've been unfair to my current household. I was hesitant about moving in here and rather than letting go I've let those hesitations fester into a deep seated dissatisfaction with everything about the place and it's inhabitants. I've been escaping to my parents house on a weekly basis which has further fuelled my anxieties about my actual home as my absence makes me feel disconnected and like I must appear odd to my housemates.
I've had many long thinks, a couple of good cries and one particularly insightful session with my psychiatrist in which I came to the conclusion that I shouldn't be paying good money to live so unhappily.
So where to next? Well steel yourselves folks, it looks like I'm about to take the ultimate plunge into Loserville and move back in with my parents. And just in time for summer too!
Honestly though, it shouldn't be that bad. I get along well with Mum and Dad and the money I save on rent can all be funnelled towards travel plans I have for next year (The States. Again.) I've got a very good potential living arrangement due to come to fruition in about February next year so it should only be a fairly temporary arrangement. And if I'm finding it too much to bear I can always go through the gruelling process of finding another share house, hopefully one where I can feel more at ease.
So, that wraps up another exciting instalment of my life. Send me good wishes for the next one.
Friday, 20 September 2013
Worst. Blogger. Ever.
I'm totally shit. There's no real excuse. Yes, I have been incredibly busy but neglecting my blog like this is still inexcusable. I totally understand if you've all stopped reading.
A lot has happened. So much that I'm going to explain it all in dot points to get through it all.
A lot has happened. So much that I'm going to explain it all in dot points to get through it all.
- I was staying with my parents because I wasn't coping too well with life
- I was asked to move in to a share house in Princes Hill
- I ummed and aahed about whether I was emotionally prepared for such a change
- I decided I was and moved
- Work got incredibly busy and stressful
- My mood went up, down, backwards and sideways
- I'm tired all the time but feeling fairly stable now
- I'm still surrounded by a sea of unpacked boxes
- I was so tired when I get home last night that I got into bed and ordered a pizza
- I ate an entire pizza in bed last night
There, now that wasn't too hard to do now, was it?
I'm about to go and house sit for my sister for a week so the fun isn't stopping yet. I'm hopeful that my body will soon start adjusting to the pace of work and I'll have more energy to blog in the coming weeks.
Once again, I am sorry for the inconsistent blogging. I'll try to do better for next time.
Thursday, 15 August 2013
Gimme shelter
Storm clouds gather, the horizon blackens, in the distance thunder rolls and here I stand without any shelter.
Shelter has been my predominant thought these past few weeks. My days have been spent house hunting, responding to house ads and attending housemate interviews. As each day has offered forth its share of frustrations and rejection my mood has blackened. I cracked in therapy this afternoon and a wave of pent up emotions came flooding out. I've been internalising the rejection, both experienced and imagined, and it has been making me despise myself. The vicious cycle, for these things are always cyclical and ferocious, is that the darker I feel about myself the more hopeless I see my prospects and this shows through in my searching and interviewing. I rule myself out of houses where the advertisers sound too perky and I show up to interviews defeated and depressed.
I'm taking a break from it all and seeking refuge at my parents house. They don't have the Internet so I won't even be tempted to continue my search.
I'm also hoping that this break will serve as some sort of breaker to my circuit. If things worsen I face the prospect of hospital again and that's an unwelcome thought.
I so desperately want this part of my life; the search for housing, the uncertain hours at work and the fluctuating moods, to be over that sometimes I wish the whole game over. I know these are bad thoughts to have and I chastise myself severely for thinking them. I pay for them too. With dark thoughts comes time out of work which funnels into my financial woes. Another cycle. It's all cyclical.
And so too is this illness apparently, though we've seen little sign of it lately. I'm back on the lookout for signs of mania though as in response to my mood shift my psychiatrist has increased my Effexor. Is it terrible that I'm craving a little hypomania right now? Just a little. Just a taste of what up feels like, maybe enough to see me coast through some house interviews as a bubbly person with a sunny outlook, just a little shot of boundless energy and then I promise I'd come straight back down.
Oh dear. Some days I'm glad my psychiatrist doesn't read my blog.
Shelter has been my predominant thought these past few weeks. My days have been spent house hunting, responding to house ads and attending housemate interviews. As each day has offered forth its share of frustrations and rejection my mood has blackened. I cracked in therapy this afternoon and a wave of pent up emotions came flooding out. I've been internalising the rejection, both experienced and imagined, and it has been making me despise myself. The vicious cycle, for these things are always cyclical and ferocious, is that the darker I feel about myself the more hopeless I see my prospects and this shows through in my searching and interviewing. I rule myself out of houses where the advertisers sound too perky and I show up to interviews defeated and depressed.
I'm taking a break from it all and seeking refuge at my parents house. They don't have the Internet so I won't even be tempted to continue my search.
I'm also hoping that this break will serve as some sort of breaker to my circuit. If things worsen I face the prospect of hospital again and that's an unwelcome thought.
I so desperately want this part of my life; the search for housing, the uncertain hours at work and the fluctuating moods, to be over that sometimes I wish the whole game over. I know these are bad thoughts to have and I chastise myself severely for thinking them. I pay for them too. With dark thoughts comes time out of work which funnels into my financial woes. Another cycle. It's all cyclical.
And so too is this illness apparently, though we've seen little sign of it lately. I'm back on the lookout for signs of mania though as in response to my mood shift my psychiatrist has increased my Effexor. Is it terrible that I'm craving a little hypomania right now? Just a little. Just a taste of what up feels like, maybe enough to see me coast through some house interviews as a bubbly person with a sunny outlook, just a little shot of boundless energy and then I promise I'd come straight back down.
Oh dear. Some days I'm glad my psychiatrist doesn't read my blog.
Wednesday, 31 July 2013
My shitty week
I'm having kind of a shitty week. Let's see, where to start? How about my shoulder? Yeah, my shoulder is in pain for some unknown reason, possibly the result of too much filing which I've been doing at my job, which is another thing that has been kind of shitty. Usually I like my job a lot but this week has just been a whole load of meh with some blah piled on top. I'm working reduced hours, some days only 3 hours, and when the work itself is shitty then getting the energy up to go in for those 3 hours is pretty challenging.
Since I started with a body part perhaps I'll continue and tell you about my jaw, which is also in pain. I was so proud and boastful running around being like, 'look at me, I'm side effect free' and then I've gone and developed a side effect. It's not specifically just my jaw, but all my muscles are tensing up as a side effect to the Saphris. It's most noticeable in my jaw though because it's currently permanently clenched and so it aches and my teeth ache and chewing my food has become an ordeal. Now if only this would noticeably put me off my food I might lose some weight and start feeling better about my body, which is another thing that has made me feel shitty this week. No big changes here, still just lugging around all the lithium weight and feeling like a blimp.
I wonder if I'd lose the weight if I went off my medication? I've been wondering about being off my medication ever since my psychologist asked me what I thought I'd be like off my medication. I've been having a few issues with this psychologist and I don't think this has been helped by such portent questions as this. I think I'm going to stop seeing this psychologist but then I have to go through the hassle of finding a new one or try going it alone for a while, I don't know, it's all just a weight on my mind right now. What I do know is that I don't need to wonder what I'd be like off medication right now because the agreed upon course of action decided upon by myself in consultation with some very well trained health professionals is that I'm going to take my damned medication.
And that is medication that from tomorrow is going to start costing me a pretty penny more as Centrelink have decided since I'm working all of about 15 hours a week now I no longer qualify for Sickness Allowance and they've cut off my health care card. And what really irks me is that I'm really not earning very much money. Certainly not enough to have saved anywhere near enough money to move out on my own despite leading an austere existence at present. And what I'd really like more than anything right now is to have a place of my own. I miss having that haven and I am losing hope that it will ever be mine once again.
So that's a brief summation of the things going on in my shitty life this shitty week. However, I'm not feeling depressed, despite there being numerous things I could feel depressed about. I'm not suicidal, not even a jot, so even if my life is shitty at present I still fully intend to keep living it. And finally, this week will pass. It may be replaced with one much worse but it may be replaced with one much better. (Please be one much better.)
Since I started with a body part perhaps I'll continue and tell you about my jaw, which is also in pain. I was so proud and boastful running around being like, 'look at me, I'm side effect free' and then I've gone and developed a side effect. It's not specifically just my jaw, but all my muscles are tensing up as a side effect to the Saphris. It's most noticeable in my jaw though because it's currently permanently clenched and so it aches and my teeth ache and chewing my food has become an ordeal. Now if only this would noticeably put me off my food I might lose some weight and start feeling better about my body, which is another thing that has made me feel shitty this week. No big changes here, still just lugging around all the lithium weight and feeling like a blimp.
I wonder if I'd lose the weight if I went off my medication? I've been wondering about being off my medication ever since my psychologist asked me what I thought I'd be like off my medication. I've been having a few issues with this psychologist and I don't think this has been helped by such portent questions as this. I think I'm going to stop seeing this psychologist but then I have to go through the hassle of finding a new one or try going it alone for a while, I don't know, it's all just a weight on my mind right now. What I do know is that I don't need to wonder what I'd be like off medication right now because the agreed upon course of action decided upon by myself in consultation with some very well trained health professionals is that I'm going to take my damned medication.
And that is medication that from tomorrow is going to start costing me a pretty penny more as Centrelink have decided since I'm working all of about 15 hours a week now I no longer qualify for Sickness Allowance and they've cut off my health care card. And what really irks me is that I'm really not earning very much money. Certainly not enough to have saved anywhere near enough money to move out on my own despite leading an austere existence at present. And what I'd really like more than anything right now is to have a place of my own. I miss having that haven and I am losing hope that it will ever be mine once again.
So that's a brief summation of the things going on in my shitty life this shitty week. However, I'm not feeling depressed, despite there being numerous things I could feel depressed about. I'm not suicidal, not even a jot, so even if my life is shitty at present I still fully intend to keep living it. And finally, this week will pass. It may be replaced with one much worse but it may be replaced with one much better. (Please be one much better.)
Tuesday, 23 July 2013
Strength
There were some mean boys on the bus this afternoon. They stole another boy's laptop and then after he got off the bus they were laughing about another time when they stole one of his shoes. It made me feel glad that I'm no longer in high school but it also made me sad that I didn't feel strong enough to stand up to them and say something.
One of my favourite internet pastimes is a site called Pinterest. Pinterest is great, it's like an electronic pinboard for sharing images and links and right now mine is going berserk with all the American feminist pinners I follow sharing links on what's happening in places like Texas, Ohio and Kansas. It seems like a full-scale assault on women's reproductive rights. Alongside the political pins there are lots of inspirational quotes about standing up and making your voice heard and being strong. These sit uneasily with me because while I know I would like to be strong, I feel at the moment like I'm not and I don't have the power to stand up and make my voice heard. Is there a place in feminism for a weak woman? Is there a place in the world for a weak woman? And if not, how do I go about suddenly becoming strong again?
I feel like I'm trying my best at the moment. I'm medication compliant, attending therapy and support groups, getting enough sleep and looking after myself as best I can. This has taken me to the point where I feel I'm recovering, but still not yet well. I want to be well. I feel it will be my first step towards becoming strong but I can't force this state into being. I wonder if there'll be a day when I realise I've passed from recovering to well or if it's a day that will slip by and only be noticed in hindsight.
Until then I think I'll just be feeling slightly abashed that I don't have more fight in me and I don't know how to be strong right now. I don't mean this to all sound so terribly self-piteous but my honest assessment of myself is that I don't have much strength right now. I think I've used it all up fighting off my demons and now I'm in a slow state of recuperation.
The good news is of course that I'm in recuperation. Little bits of me are flocking back, whether they be social involvements or shards of self-esteem. I'm going to get my haircut on Friday which might not sound like a big deal but for the longest time I couldn't care less about how my hair looked because I couldn't stand the sight of myself and thought vanity was wasted on an empty shell like me.
Perhaps I'll be like some reverse Samson and gather strength from the cutting of my locks, perhaps Friday will be the day I finally realise I'm well. I doubt it, but it's nice to think that that day is coming whether it will be recognised as such or not.
One of my favourite internet pastimes is a site called Pinterest. Pinterest is great, it's like an electronic pinboard for sharing images and links and right now mine is going berserk with all the American feminist pinners I follow sharing links on what's happening in places like Texas, Ohio and Kansas. It seems like a full-scale assault on women's reproductive rights. Alongside the political pins there are lots of inspirational quotes about standing up and making your voice heard and being strong. These sit uneasily with me because while I know I would like to be strong, I feel at the moment like I'm not and I don't have the power to stand up and make my voice heard. Is there a place in feminism for a weak woman? Is there a place in the world for a weak woman? And if not, how do I go about suddenly becoming strong again?
I feel like I'm trying my best at the moment. I'm medication compliant, attending therapy and support groups, getting enough sleep and looking after myself as best I can. This has taken me to the point where I feel I'm recovering, but still not yet well. I want to be well. I feel it will be my first step towards becoming strong but I can't force this state into being. I wonder if there'll be a day when I realise I've passed from recovering to well or if it's a day that will slip by and only be noticed in hindsight.
Until then I think I'll just be feeling slightly abashed that I don't have more fight in me and I don't know how to be strong right now. I don't mean this to all sound so terribly self-piteous but my honest assessment of myself is that I don't have much strength right now. I think I've used it all up fighting off my demons and now I'm in a slow state of recuperation.
The good news is of course that I'm in recuperation. Little bits of me are flocking back, whether they be social involvements or shards of self-esteem. I'm going to get my haircut on Friday which might not sound like a big deal but for the longest time I couldn't care less about how my hair looked because I couldn't stand the sight of myself and thought vanity was wasted on an empty shell like me.
Perhaps I'll be like some reverse Samson and gather strength from the cutting of my locks, perhaps Friday will be the day I finally realise I'm well. I doubt it, but it's nice to think that that day is coming whether it will be recognised as such or not.
Wednesday, 10 July 2013
Getting past the language
My first session with the new therapist was a success. Lucy is lovely and I found it really easy to talk to her, even as she was asking the probing questions about my life that a new therapist must ask. She was confident that we'd be able to work together to address the issues of guilt and anxiety that I specifically want to address and she even gave me a brand new diagnosis! Turns out I have a generalised anxiety disorder as well as bipolar disorder. Who knew?!
The only real downside is that Lucy is incredibly popular and I can't get in to see her again for another month. The upshot of this is that I have a month to do the homework she assigned to me. This might be for the best as one of the things I have to do is read a self-help book.
You might mistake me as the sort of person who gets in to self-help books. Certainly my ex-boyfriend's mother did and gave me one for Christmas one year (don't ever give somebody a self-help book as a gift, it's a strange kind of cruel). Truth is they make me roll my eyes into the back of my head and make gagging noises. It's the language! It's so dumbed-down and condescending. Plus I just don't buy into the idea that somebody has "the answer" for the very personal and unique predicaments I face and conveniently it's succinct enough to be put into a book.
So the book I'm set to read is called 'The Happiness Trap' (rolls eyes, makes gagging noises) and Lucy actually warned me that it was badly written. I've ordered the book online but the first chapter was free to download from the author's website. I'll spare you the ordeal of sharing any of it with you here but needless to say I turned into an eye rolling, gag-noise making machine as I waded through it.
The thing that's getting me is Lucy wants me to read this book and has acknowledged that it's poorly written but clearly there are some ideas in there that warrant attention. It's made me wonder if there are other things that could be helpful that I am missing out on because I don't appreciate the vehicle or the packaging for them. One prime example that comes to mind is exercise. I have now cancelled my gym membership due to poor attendance. I know that exercising regularly would be beneficial to my mental health but I really can't get in to the whole gym experience. Vitamins are another thing. I'm inclined to scoff at the world of natural medicine but other people swear by supplements they take.
It's unlikely I'll reconcile myself to self-help books, the gym or vitamins overnight but it has got me thinking that perhaps this recovering little mind of mine should be a bit more open rather than the tightly curled up little creature that it is.
Between starting this post and finishing it Lucy has had a cancellation so I'm off to see her tomorrow. Maybe she'll enlighten me some more on my close-mindedness.
The only real downside is that Lucy is incredibly popular and I can't get in to see her again for another month. The upshot of this is that I have a month to do the homework she assigned to me. This might be for the best as one of the things I have to do is read a self-help book.
You might mistake me as the sort of person who gets in to self-help books. Certainly my ex-boyfriend's mother did and gave me one for Christmas one year (don't ever give somebody a self-help book as a gift, it's a strange kind of cruel). Truth is they make me roll my eyes into the back of my head and make gagging noises. It's the language! It's so dumbed-down and condescending. Plus I just don't buy into the idea that somebody has "the answer" for the very personal and unique predicaments I face and conveniently it's succinct enough to be put into a book.
So the book I'm set to read is called 'The Happiness Trap' (rolls eyes, makes gagging noises) and Lucy actually warned me that it was badly written. I've ordered the book online but the first chapter was free to download from the author's website. I'll spare you the ordeal of sharing any of it with you here but needless to say I turned into an eye rolling, gag-noise making machine as I waded through it.
The thing that's getting me is Lucy wants me to read this book and has acknowledged that it's poorly written but clearly there are some ideas in there that warrant attention. It's made me wonder if there are other things that could be helpful that I am missing out on because I don't appreciate the vehicle or the packaging for them. One prime example that comes to mind is exercise. I have now cancelled my gym membership due to poor attendance. I know that exercising regularly would be beneficial to my mental health but I really can't get in to the whole gym experience. Vitamins are another thing. I'm inclined to scoff at the world of natural medicine but other people swear by supplements they take.
It's unlikely I'll reconcile myself to self-help books, the gym or vitamins overnight but it has got me thinking that perhaps this recovering little mind of mine should be a bit more open rather than the tightly curled up little creature that it is.
Between starting this post and finishing it Lucy has had a cancellation so I'm off to see her tomorrow. Maybe she'll enlighten me some more on my close-mindedness.
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