Busy volunteering, studying & being a mental

Life has been rather busy up until this point. Doing things I want to be doing, as well as things I not so much want to be doing. Among that which I want to be doing, I attended a youth mental health roundtable a week ago. The first half of the day was spent providing feedback on the National Report Card on Mental Health. The group of young people in the room were great, all had such a wealth of experience and ideas to share and it was so inspiring to be part of this discussion on mental health. A range of issues were brought up including mental health services, mental health in Aboriginal and rural communities, mental health in schools, CALD issues, and others. The second half of the day was dedicated to providing feedback on the new youth mental health service that is currently in the process of being built. This new services is aimed at young people who are at ultra high risk of psychosis or emerging Borderline Personality Disorder. There were a couple of questions I brought up, BPD being something I feel rather strongly about given the prejudice that is often held against those with BPD, even when they’re in a vast amount of emotional pain and in need of support. One of my questions was regarding the six month limitation on this service. I wanted to know how six months is adequate for an illness such as BPD which often has a lot of underlying issues, and how they were going to deal with the issues of rejection and abandonment when the relationship is terminated at the conclusion of those six months. The answer I got is that their service is a starting point before going onto another service is required, which is fair enough, and that often if you’re clear with the young person from the beginning that at the end of six months they’ll have to move on, it will help so that the person doesn’t feel rejected. Is this usually the case? I don’t know. But I know for me, it’s part of the reason why I’m reluctant to see psychologists again. Because it just hurts too much when I’ve started to trust someone, they too leave.

Yesterday I was there while a conversation took place between the people who are setting up this new service. They were trying to work out how exactly ‘emerging’ BPD is going to be defined for eligibility for their service. Another eligibility criteria is that someone has to have had a decline in their functioning. I asked whether someone who say self harms and are showing signs of BPD but are functioning fine in work/school/uni, whether they’d access this service. And the answer was no, they’d probably be accessing another service. It was interesting to me because there are definitions of mental illness that say it must impact on a person’s functioning. When I look at myself however, my daily functioning is very rarely impacted. I have never missed a lab class of uni due to feeling too depressed or anxious. When I’ve made a commitment to my volunteer work or going out with friends, I don’t think I’ve ever bailed because I was feeling too emotionally awful or anxious. The only time I have failed to attend these things is when I’ve been in hospital. Despite ending up in hospital at least once every semester that I’ve studied OT, I have not failed any classes and passed them all the first time round. So based on functioning, you could say I don’t have any serious mental health issues at all. But it’s my coping mechanisms and emotional reactions that get the better of me. Because things that most people are able to cope with in everyday life, I react by having a meltdown and overdosing. So it’s like functioning, functioning, functioning….then have a meltdown and crisis.

I finished my one and last exam on Wednesday. Though marks haven’t been released yet, I’m almost entirely confident I passed all four units. I’m thrilled because in three semesters of OT I’ve managed to pass three semester’s worth of units, whereas when I was studying pharmacy, in three semesters I hadn’t even managed to pass a full semester’s worth of units. Not to mention I’ve been inpatient in psych wards once per semester for all three semesters too during my OT course. I also went out with a group of my OT friends for lunch after we finished our exam, the first time ever I’ve gone out with friends from OT. Yes, after 1.5 years of studying in this course I finally have an actual group of friends that I belong to.

I’ve still been collecting my meds weekly from the pharmacy. An annoyance when I have to stop by on my way home from Uni on Fridays, an even bigger annoyance when I don’t have uni and have to go especially just to pick up meds. Using public transport. To make things worse, a girl I went to school with who was in my year and so we know each other, works at the pharmacy. I see her every Friday when I go get my weekly meds supply. Awkward. And so today being Friday, I went and was informed my box of Seroquel has run out and they’ll have to dispense a new script for me. Fine. Then the pharmacist asks me, rather loudly, “WFH, has the doctor lowered your dose of SEROQUEL?” Just announce to the whole pharmacy that I’m a mental, that’s fine… Turns our my GP faxed a script for two 25mg Seroquel tablets per night which I used to be on, instead of the correct one 50mg Seroquel XR tablet a night which I’ve been on since they changed it when I was in hospital. So it’s back to the GP I have to go, and there goes my plan to avoid her out the window. Not too keen to answer her probable questions about my not wanting to see the psychologist at A St. My answer if she asks what I plan to do in terms of getting help? Nothing. It’s my life and I choose and plan to do nothing.

I’m on break until Uni starts up again on July 9th and I have mixed feelings about this break. On one hand, it’s great to not have to do any study or uni work. On the other hand, it gives me quite a bit of spare time, too much spare time to dwell on how lonely I feel. It’s hard when I see people going out with their friends and I’m alone at home, reminded that I don’t really have people to hang out with. It feels pretty awful when it seems like everyone else has these wonderful close friendships and all these people to spend time with, and I don’t. I am headed to Melbourne and Sydney in a week though. Melbourne just for a couple of days to holiday as I’ve never been before, and Sydney both for a bit of a holiday and the Young Minds Conference, which I obtained a free ticket to.

Met K

I met with K, the replacement psychologist for I, this afternoon. She acknowledged that yes, she is temporary while the psychologist I am meant to be seeing is away, so I may not want to go into the deep stuff when I won’t have the opportunity to get to trust her and see her for a longer period of time. And so we talked about general and some rather light hearted stuff. Stuff which included my cultural background, what I do when I’m not studying, where I did my prac placements, countries I’ve visited and would like to visit, and my cute little Maltese-shihtzu puppy. She also explained that when people are discharged from hospital they usually offer a psychiatrist appointment as follow up. “Psychiatrists can have some helpful things,” she said, which I struggled not to laugh at, but was told that ultimately it’s my choice whether I go or not. I see her again in a fortnight.

Later on in the afternoon I called to cancel the psychiatrist appointment meant for next Wednesday. “What’s the reason for cancelling?” I was asked by the receptionist. “Ummm….” I stalled, not expecting to have been asked. “Just so I can put it in the computer,” I was told. “Umm…I just don’t need to see him,” I answered. It’s not the principle of seeing a psychiatrist I object to, it’s that I’ve met him once and felt uncomfortable and he’s not someone I’m able to talk to. There have been a couple of psychiatrists I’ve found okay and would more willingly attend an appointment with. Unfortunately he isn’t one of them. While I was at A St to see K today, I saw that my psychiatrist whilst I was in hospital in October/November last year is now one of the outpatient psychiatrists at A St. See he was okay, why couldn’t I have been allocated to him? Instead I get allocated to the one I don’t feel comfortable with. Sigh.

Dr L provided me with new scripts today and typed up a letter, instructing me to hand it to the pharmacist. The contents of the letter basically asked the pharmacist to only dispense my medications weekly. That’s a big assumption to make, that I’d willingly hand over the letter to the pharmacist myself. Was very tempted to just not do so- how would Dr L know? In the end I did. I’d like to say it was my integrity and honesty, but really, it’s just me being afraid of the consequences I may have to face if I don’t and I’m found out. “It’s a good excuse to go shopping!” remarked Dr L of the weekly trips I will now have to make to this shopping centre. Except hey, I don’t have spare money to spend on frivolous things after spending $123 on Pristiq and Seroquel today. Yay!

Tomorrow I’m meeting up with M for lunch whom I first met when we were both inpatient in Oct/Nov. A social meet up with a friend? Well that’s something new. According to my diary records, it’s only been since February that I haven’t met up with friends. It feels a lot longer than that though

Being made to get help again

It seems like I’m back on the ‘getting help’ bandwagon again. Huh. So much for my resolve to be rid of all services.

Received a call from the GP office this morning. 8:15am. Yep, not like I was asleep or anything… Was told that Dr L wants to see me and so I agreed to come in this morning. It seems as though she’s been bombarded with all these letters about me; from F Hospital telling her that I overdosed, from B Hospital telling her I’d recently been discharged, from the psychologist at A St telling her I’ve declined to see her, and another one from A St advising her how my medications should be managed.

Was asked by Dr L what I want to do if I don’t want to see anyone from A St. Could only shrug and shed some tears in response. She said she can’t comprehend being discharged from hospital following an overdose, slipping back into life where everything is the same, and deciding to accept no help whatsoever. And so she’s making me go see a psychologist again. Boo. Was told to either choose to go see the one at A St or be referred to a private one again, and come back with my decision in a week. I’m also about to become best buds with my local pharmacist, as apparently A St has advised her that I’m only to have weekly prescriptions. Yay, I can’t wait to become known to the pharmacy as the mental who can’t be trusted with more than a week’s worth of medication. FML. I’d complain about how humiliating it is, but then I’d probably get some smart arse commenting that I only have myself to blame for getting into this situation.

This afternoon I then received a call from K, the psychologist at A St. She told me she didn’t feel right leaving me be without any support, especially given my most recent hospital admission. I admitted I was upset and angry when I cancelled the appointment with her and “I guess” I could come in and see how things go. Not to mention Dr L is making me see someone anyway. Sigh. May as well go to the psychologist that’s free…

Both times I’ve spoken to K on the phone she’s sounded lovely. And that’s partly what scares me. I know she’s only temporary until I, the regular psychologist, comes back from holidays.  I’m afraid of getting to like her only to have her leave, like so many others before her. Knowing it’s unavoidable doesn’t make it hurt any less. I don’t have anyone in my life I can talk to about deep and emotional matters and it’s just so painful when that one person I do have disappears. It leaves me feeling all the more lost and alone.

It seems as though today is mental health professional “Let’s contact WFH day” and in the spirit of it all, D also emailed me back. It basically said that he appreciates what I’m saying and is still happy to attend an appointment with me should I decide to see a psychologist after all. Feeling bad about the “bugger off and screw services” email I sent him, I apologised, explained I was upset and irate when I wrote it, and informed him I’m going to see K after all, though I declined his offer to attend with me. I learnt that people are more likely and willing to respond to a civil email. Who could’ve known…! Ten minutes after I sent it off, I received a reply back telling me not to worry, he didn’t take it personally as he thought I was probably just upset when I wrote it, and wished me all the best. Well that’s that then with clinical psychologist #4. Surely if it doesn’t work out with #5 and #6, I’m allowed to quit then…?

4th year students

If all had gone smoothly at Uni, if I’d stuck to one degree and managed to pass everything, I’d be in fourth year right now. But alas, I’d failed, switched from pharmacy to OT and therefore am only in second year. What it means though is that people from primary and high school, people I started Uni with are now in fourth year. And for many, as it will be for me too, fourth year is placement year.

Yesterday a couple of med students had a chat with me. Fourth year med students. There’s only one medical school in my city and I have a couple of friends who study med. One of which is a good friend from primary school whom I still meet up with every once in a while. She had visited me last year in hospital too. And so I asked them whether they knew my two friends. They did. Upon finding out which high school I attended, they asked me if I knew one of their med colleagues who also went to my high school. I confirmed I did. Luckily for me, they didn’t go into any deep stuff regarding my mental health issues, apart from asking me what meds I’m on. Whether it’s because of the mutual friends thing I’m not sure, but I’m glad anyway.

When I first arrived on the ward, I saw who I presumed to be a student or admin staff. She looked a little familiar, but I couldn’t quite figure out why. It was only later when I saw her walking alongside the pharmacist that I realised. She’s a pharmacy student. Here on her rotation. And I had attempted the first year of pharmacy at Uni with her. In the ten or so days I’ve been here, I haven’t seen much of her around. Today though, she was in the nurses station doing work. After some consideration, I decided to speak to my nurse about making sure she did not read or have access to my file. I mean, even I dread to know and am too afraid to ever want to find out what’s been written about me. Let alone a former fellow student who may know me and does know some of my friends.

Sigh. How did this happen that all these people I studied with and were equal with are now in these positions of power?!

Pharmacy students visiting psych hospitals

My third year pharmacy friends have been visiting hospitals this semester as part of their course prac requirements. Today L attended G Hospital, the largest public psychiatric hospital in the state. Afterwards she tweeted,

L: [G Hospital]…not scary at all. Just hell smelly ><

N, another pharmacy friend, then tweeted back to L and asked:

N: Hahaha. Why smelly?

The conversation then continued on from there:

L: idno just a really nauseating smell in the wards…:s are u gng there?

N: Oh ok. Nope, [Children's Hospital] today, then [H Private Hospital (I've been a psych IP here...)] and [Public Hospital (Been a psych IP here too...)]. I miss out.

L: haha it wasn’t tht special…I was expecting it to b way creepier!

N: Haha. I’m still interested, D said he got to see someone with bipolarism.

L: awwhh I got to see nothinnnng. Just couple of ppl wandering around normally

N:  Oh ok lol, guess it depends on luck + the particular week day what you get to see.

Watching this conversation unfold on my timeline…really I just wanted to scream with frustration.

Why were you expecting it to be creepy, L? It’s just a hospital. A place where people who are ill can obtain treatment. What about when you came to visit me when I was inpatient in the psychiatric clinic then? Was that creepy for you? Granted, it was a private hospital and the patients there are generally not as unwell as those in G Hospital. But still.

And oh my goodness N, your friend saw someone with bipolar disorder, or ‘bipolarism’ as you say? And what, people with bipolar are such freaks of nature that you find it so fascinating that someone actually set eyes on this person?! Guess what, chances are you’ve seen someone with bipolar too! People with bipolar and other mental illnesses walk among you every day. At uni, in shopping centres, in your suburb…

L, why are you so disappointed that you only saw a couple of people walking around normally? What did you expect, everyone to be tearing their hair out, screaming and drooling everywhere, running around madly and climbing off the walls or something? It may surprise you, but yes, people with mental illness do actually walk around just like everybody else.

Sadly, these are students in their second last year at uni, in which after they graduate, will be eligible to become fully fledged pharmacists. A couple of years off being regarded as a health professional, and they still have such misconceptions about what people with mental illness look like and how they behave.

I really wanted to respond to their tweets and question them on their beliefs. But instead, I held back. I guess I don’t want to be seen as that one who’s always pulling people up on things, who’s always being too intense and over-sensitive. Then there’s also the awkward factor in reminding people that yes, I am one of them, the people you talk about who are or have been hospitalised for their mental illness.

Visiting pharmacies

It seems as though more times than not, I will leave a pharmacy feeling a little irritated. It probably stems from my own self-consciousness in getting psychiatric medication dispensed. Having social anxiety, I fear being judged, and I can’t help worrying that the pharmacist or pharmacy assistant is judging me for taking an SSRI. Then there’s the fact that I was a pharmacy student and still work as a pharmacy assistant, so I get rather impatient when they treat me like an idiot.

My intention today, and every other day I attend a pharmacy, was to hand over my prescription, receive my box of medication, provide payment in return, and leave. Minimal conversation preferred. But no. The pharmacy was relatively quiet while I was being served, and thus the pharmacist decided he had time to ask some additional questions. “You been on these long?” he enquired. “Umm, not that long…a couple of months,” I said. “How are they going for you?” he proceeded to ask. “Umm. Okay,” I replied a little abruptly. I appreciate that he was just making some conversation, and he was a nice enough guy, if not a bit weird. But I also can’t help thinking, It’s none of your business! Just give me my pills without the unnecessary questions please!  Being asked how my medication is going is awkward at the best of times, asking while my mum was there accentuates the degree of awkwardness by ten. My mum and I never discuss my mental health issues, unless it’s to do with such practicalities as appointment times and fees.

Then there’s the assumption that I’m an idiot. Okay, there’s no way they’d know I’m a pharmacy assistant and an ex-pharmacy student, I’m aware of that. But I know the generic brand of sertraline you gave me is the equivalent of Zoloft. There is no need to add on with a pen to the printed dispensing label, Z-O-L-O-F-T.  It’s just frustrating to be treated in such a patronizing manner when I deal with generic medicines every day while I’m at work, packing at least eighty of those damn Webster-paks per eight hour work day.

Last Day on the Psych Ward

The morning of day 3 in the psych ward, I still found myself confused as to when I’d actually be discharged. So were the nurses apparently. “Do you know if I’m going home today?” I asked my assigned nurse. “What did the doctor say?” she asked. I replied that he said I would be going home either yesterday afternoon or that morning. “Okay, how about after lunch then?” she suggested, and I agreed. It doesn’t seem like very good organisation when the nurses have no clue what the doctors say and when their patients are supposed to be discharged…

A bit later on, while I was in the TV room sitting with another patient- a 39 year old woman, the same nurse came to ask us what we needed, as we were both being discharged that day. The nurse then started telling me, “You’re still so young, you’ve got your whole life ahead of you. You don’t want to be in a place like this.” I looked ruefully at her. The patient I was with agreed- “You’re still so young!” The nurse then continued, “CBT is very effective. I know patients who did CBT and now we hardly see them here anymore.” I smiled disbelievingly and let her know that I have in fact tried CBT but the doctor was recommending I give DBT a go.

Late morning I attended the baking activity in the OT kitchen where we baked choc chip muffins. I was the only one who turned up, though an older woman appeared later- after the the muffins were already in the oven baking, conveniently enough! It irked me though when a couple of the staff members walked in and made me feel completely invisible- comments such as “You’re the only one here today, M?” directed to the older woman and “No one turned up today?” Last time I checked, I was still someone…

After lunch my parents came to pick me up. I was given back what had been confiscated- my antacids and badges, though ironically there were pins on the pin up board beside my bed, and handed a script for the Lexapro. The nurse advised me that the hospital psychiatrist would probably have sent off a referral for DBT to Dr T, my regular psychiatrist, and again repeated, “DBT is very effective!”

My parents drove me straight after to a community pharmacy to get my script filled. Unfortunately one of the occupational hazards of being a pharmacy student, or even an ex one, is that you may come across one of your fellow students. At first I saw M walking around in a uniform. Heart started pounding a bit faster. Then I saw C behind the counter collecting scripts. I panicked then and hid behind the shelves for a while. It’s bad enough having to get antidepressants dispensed from someone I used to study with, but a hospital script looks different to a normal one- a fact I hadn’t realised ’til then. They didn’t teach that to us in our lectures! Realizing then that I hadn’t much choice, I walked up to the counter and handed the script to him. We had a bit of idle chit-chat. He pointed out that I don’t have any repeats. “Yes, I’m seeing my doctor soon who will give me script,” I said. A while later I was called to the counter once more and he asked me to read the doctor’s instructions. “Take one in the morning and….supply every 14 days?” I recited, with a question mark at the end. Lexapro 10mg tablets come in boxes of 28 and pharmacies dispense by the box so it was an odd instruction to have. I was dispensed one box anyway- 28 days supply. Don’t know why the extra instruction was added… unless it’s to hinder me should I be tempted to overdose. Way to add to the embarrassment! “I’m happy you’re discharged,” C said as he handed me my pills. I gave a dry smile in return and walked away. Good to know ex fellow students now know I was hospitalized in a psych ward… *Cringe.*

So was the overall experience helpful? I think getting that bit of respite in that two and a half days on the psych ward did aid me in letting the dust settle post overdose and letting my emotions calm a bit. In the ED, during day 1 and the first half of day 2 I was not ready yet- I was still feeling miserable about it all, still sobbing, still dreading having to go home to face my parents and the real world. By the end of day 2 I was feeling slightly more at peace, had stopped crying and was ready to go home.

I’m also relieved that things treatment wise have moved forward slightly. I was contemplating medication again but was unwilling to tell Dr T so, this way I’m back on the Lexapro without having to bring it up with Dr T myself. I was also unsure about where the therapy side of things were going and now I’m apparently being referred for DBT. Though, that also depends on their efficiency- whether the referral has been sent or not, and whether Dr T approves.

At the same time, I’m terrified. DBT seems intense and is apparently very strict with lots of rules and boundaries. I’ve been told by a girl who’s starting it soon that they HAVE to call someone if they’re about to self harm, and if they do self harm, they’re excluded from the course for 24 hours.

There’s also the question of why I’m being offered DBT in the first place. I don’t, as far as I know, have a diagnosis of BPD. Just plain old vanilla depression. As much as I want a correct diagnosis, I’m afraid of being hit with the BPD one. Does it fit? I don’t know. Maybe, maybe not. But if I do have that label stuck on me, I’m afraid that if I turn up at the Emergency Department next time I’ll just be viewed and treated as an ‘attention seeking borderline.’ I’m afraid that if I say I’m suicidal or tempted to overdose I won’t be taken seriously. I want to ask Dr T next time I see her, “Am I being offered DBT because it’s been suggested I have BPD?” but I’m not sure I want to hear her answer if it is indeed “Yes.”

I next see Dr T on the 4th of January. I’m nervous about this appointment. In the month that I haven’t seen her, I’ve overdosed twice. Which is a big fail, even for me. I’m apprehensive about what she’ll say. And I’m extremely embarrassed that the reason I took one of the overdoses was because I thought she’d stop seeing me- why must I be so flippin’ needy?

Protected: Stealing

This post is password protected. To view it please enter your password below:

Password:

Terminated

Met with the Head of School this morning. Found out I’ve been terminated from my Uni course.

‘This is not going to be a happy time for you,’ he said, upon telling me this piece of news. No shit, really? Because obviously things weren’t bad enough for me before that I needed this additional failure to add to the list.

I’m SO fucking GLAD to know I’ve wasted the past one and a half years of my life. I’m now going to be two years behind all my friends and everyone else I attended high school with.

Fuck my life.

An Appointment Made & A Failed Exam

I don’t quite have the words for how I feel. Perhaps that’s just the issue- right now I just don’t feel. Considering a big component of therapy is being able to articulate your thoughts and feelings, this could be a problem.

Because yes, I have successfully made an appointment with G, the psychologist. Huzzah! A few messages, missed calls and conversations later we finally have a scheduled time. Tuesday 20th July at 10am. Initially I was offered an earlier slot. I called on Wednesday, she rang me back and asked if I could come in on the next day, Thursday, as there had been two cancellations . Uh no, I have plans, something along the lines of going to work so that I can actually afford to attend my appointments.

In other news, I have received notification of a failed human biology exam. I am yet to find out the results of my other two units. Considering human biology was probably my best exam, I am not optimistic. I have been offered a supplementary exam in this unit, if I pass this exam, I pass the unit. If I fail, I will be terminated from my Uni course. I sit this exam in a week. Again, I can’t quite describe how I feel so I think a line from this song sums it up nicely.

‘Tell me tell me can you feel the pressure now?’ -Pressure by Paramore