I always vowed from the beginning of this blog that I'd blog about the good and the bad and that's become a little more challenging as I progress through 'recovery.' A part of me wants people to think 'wow she's totally better!' and I worry that blogging about anything remotely negative will cause people to doubt my 'recovery.' The thing is though, all mental health professionals strive for is to get their patients/service users into recovery. That's all they babble on about; 'oooo you can do that when you recover' or 'don't worry that'll all go away when you recover.' Readers out there who are hearing those lines? They are lies. I am considered in recovery and it isn't the picnic that professionals try to paint it as. Although, I guess if they were honest then perhaps less people would strive for it. And that, could be dangerous. I don't want people to read this post and be put off the idea of recovery.
So, the bad bits... On Saturday (6th December) my mood dipped and my hallucinations began their slow return; I began to see things out the corner of my eye and I heard music and noises that I couldn't place. I barely remember Saturday because when I was going to bed on Sunday I couldn't remember going the night before. All I knew, was that I'd taken my PRN.
On Monday, I had an appointment with Urology at the local medical hospital and I didn't know why, so I assumed that Urology back in Bradford had just referred me up. Apparently not. I was told that I was having a 'pre-op' assessment! It turned out that because they'd discovered more blood in my urine, I had to have yet another cystoscopy (camera into my bladder). I can't even describe how I felt; it was just such a huge shock and I hate medical things... So that, and my already low mood, made collecting Dolly,a slightly less sparkly experience than it should've been. This, really upset me and when I was home with her, I was just looking at her and thinking 'you're not good enough to stop it.' I had hoped that having a kitten to look after would mean self-harm was completely off the cards, yet, there I was; hadn't even had her 24hours, and I was planning what to use to cut. My Mum came over to see me and Dolly on Tuesday and that lifted my mood but on Wednesday, I was in tears. I'd let my therapist read my diary and we were talking about how I was struggling and I just burst into tears at the thought that once she'd dropped me off back at home, I'd cut. In the past, I haven't cried at the thought of self-harm; because I've wanted to do it. So, I guess this was a good thing. In our chat, my therapist was saying how I'd been busy all the time and she said I needed 'me time' so, worn out from crying, I went to bed.
Today? Today was awful. I went shopping and I had a massive headache and I was tired; worst combination for my mental health! I pushed myself to all of the shops I had to go to and when I was unable to get through on the phone to anyone (funder, CPN, therapist, GP...) I called my Mum in tears in the middle of the shopping centre. I took my antipsychotic PRN and then when I was almost home, I took Lorazepam. My funder finally called me and suggested we meet for a review and I explained how I felt that when I was doing well, everyone was fussing and when I actually need someone, there's no one!
I've requested a medication review because it seems that now I can get myself through these thoughts and feelings safely, people think that it's ok that I keep having these mood dips and struggles!
On another note; the positive things about being in recovery....
1. Having a Christmas tree with built in lights!
2. Living with a kitten
3. Receiving Christmas cards from my neighbours and not other patients
