The Day Before Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the day. It is a Friday, but it is also the day I am meant to be going home. I am both excited and anxious, but I'm also nervous about this horrific weather delaying my plans. Thanksfully I have my Squirtle to cuddle and remind me of my baby boy, whose nickname is Squirtle.

As many of you have likely heard, Brisbane is in the midst of some rotten weather. Well actually most of South East QLD and North East NSW. The train is too dangerous to drive in at times, roads are closing due to flooding, and we have to run the gauntlet between Carindale and Ipswich, which is around 40 mind for those who have no idea where these places are. Plus there are sharks on the road, so fuck driving alongside a fricking shark with fricking laser beams.

So lets say I make it home. What's next? Well I see my psychologist on Monday, my ortho spine specialist Monday, my psychiatrist on Tuesday, and then start ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy) on Friday I think. There are a whole lot of things to keep me busy during the week, so I am sure I won't have to worry about not being supported after I leave. I am very much looking forward to seeing my big boys, my kitties, and my Renly. I haven't seen much of this lot, so I am desperate for some time with them. Who knows, we might even get to play some Exploding Kittens.

If things don't go to plan, as they sometimes don't, I am able to come back for more intensive therapy. Apparently going home can be a massive anxiety trigger. We live in a pretty controlled environment here. There isn't an abundance of stimulation to make your senses explode. It is all pretty calm. Home, on the other hand, can be complete chaos. Dogs chasing cats, kids not cleaning their rooms, mess, noise, etc etc etc. So not only is there the anxiety that comes from leaving hospital, but there is the anxiety that comes from being in our own daily lives again. When I see my psychiatrist on Tuesday he will assess me and see how I'm going. However readmission is only a phone call away.

The biggest question I've had to ask myself is, where do I go from here? Well I have my ACT group and Psych appts. I want to get to the stage where I have Ezra back home with me out of day care for one day a week so we can go swimming and have fun together. Furthering my education is a big thing for me to pursue, especially considering how many times I've started and failed study due to my self esteem convincing me that I'm totally shithouse. So I am going to work on that in baby steps, starting with an on campus Cert III in something or other. Might as well get an edumacation, right?

Time for me to embrace these medications and go to sleep. I need to put my worries away for another day and see what tomorrow brings.

Lots of love to you all

This is what depression and anxiety looks like

My day started off relatively well. I'm doing Optifast this week (planning to continue and will post about this some other time) and I start to the food plan. There was a session on called "Managing Your Emotions" which seemed like a really appropriate session for me. We all got seated, I borrowed a pen because I didn't think to take one, and then I got called to my appointment with my psychiatrist. So bang went that crystal set. However the session with my psychiatrist went relatively well and I left feeling pretty good about taking on the day.

At 3pm there was a relaxation session that I wanted to go to for the second time. It is located in this weird little section where you enter on the ground floor, yet somehow you have to go down the lift to get to the other ground floor. I had arrived early because I wanted to make sure I was there on time. Seeing the little kitchen nearby prompted me to go make myself a cup of tea (Madura tea bag, a splash of zymil milk and an Equal to sweeten it). "Wouldn't it be a nice idea to go and have this cup of tea in the sun?" I asked myself. Back to the lift I went and pressed the button to go to the other ground level. However I ended up in the Basement. Fuck knows how that happened. But I could see trees and figured it was as good an exit point as any. Down the drive there was a shady path surrounded in fresh air. Just what I needed! When I had a few minutes before the relaxation class was due to start, I made my way back to the lift. I pressed the button. Nothing happened. I pressed it again. Still nothing. Then I noticed a swipe card thingo there. I could only get in if I had access. So I had to try to find my way back by walking the long way around. Unfortunately I didn't have a lot of success.

Before long I found my brain going down the rabbit hole. It started with "Urgh you're an idiot. You can't even make it to class properly". Followed with "There goes my three sessions a day target. Looks like I've failed again". Then we spiraled in to thinking about all of the times I haven't succeeded or completed something, That I'm useless. That I'm a bad example to my children. That they'd be better off without me. That I should just walk down the hill to Creek Rd (a busy street in Brisbane) and walk in to the middle of the traffic. I transformed into a crying, heaving, puffy eyed mess. Nobody ever said that depression isn't pretty, but not many people show exactly how that looks. I want to change that. Here is me and here is an explanation of how I feel.

My eyes hurt. They feel scratchy, puffy, tight and dry. Crying has a really horrid affect on my eyes. They become these little slits that make it hard to see much in my peripheral. Which isn't really a bad thing since I'm feeling pretty self-centered at the time. Being a glasses wearer increases the level of discomfort. I can't wear my glasses when I'm crying, but I also can't see for shit and therefore my self-loathing only increases. "I'm so useless. I can't even wipe my tears or stop myself from bumping in to things, or find where I've flung my glasses when I needed to find a tissue."

Snot is a part of life. It is there to make us look awkward when someone points out that we have bats in the cave. It runs out of our nose like a tap when we have hay fever and the season changes. It goes green when we have some kind of funky infection. It also clogs up my face as soon as I cry for more than 2 minutes. Before long I'm in a position where I can't breathe through my nose. Unfortunately this makes it really difficult when the nurse comes to try to assist me by telling me to "take a biiiiiiiiig deep breath in through your nose and then sloooooooowly exhale". Ummmmmm I can't even breathe in through my nose AT ALL. So how the feck am I going to do that???

One of the stupidest things that I did in my self hatred moment was clean my lipstick off. Very vigorously. With a dry face washer. All the while I was telling myself how ugly I was and that I shouldn't even bother putting lipstick on in the first place because I'm such an ugly fat beast that makeup only serves to make me look ridiculous. So I hate-cleaned my beautiful Lime Crime lipstick off. Eventually I wet the cloth because I found the dryness wasn't appropriate for actually removing shit. But now here I am, with the shiniest feeling lips in the universe. Shiny, but not in a good way. I need to get some moisture in those buggers any minute now. BRB.

Yeah, now that I think about it I should have done something for my skin while I was off looking after the moisture on my lips. In order to clear up my nose I wet another cloth and then put some drops of  Wide Awake essential oil from Plumeria which I huffed and puffed until I could blow air out of my nose. Now my face feels drier than a you know what. So I think it's time for a shower and a moisturise.

This is the physical side of depression. Well, part of it. Sometimes it is easier. Sometimes it can be much much worse. But this is a pretty good insight.

Love and good wishes to you all, and thanks for the positive feedback so far xx

Nightmares Are Balls

OK seriously. Why on earth does our brain give us nightmares? How is there possibly any reasonable explanation for why we wake up in tears, having relived a trauma from our past. Especially after yesterday was rough enough as it is, thanks to a potential bad reaction to my new meds. Although the awesome group sessions I attended and shopping trip with Husbfriend made it totally worth it.

Just a few minutes ago I woke to find my heart racing and my eyes watering. I can recall dreaming about some past trauma, my subconscious playing on my insecurities. I'm not good enough, I'm an easy target, I'm overreactive, it's funny to see me get upset. So now my brain is racing and I can't sleep. Should I go and get something to make me sleep and miss out on my morning gym session? Or do I hold out and save my PRN (anti anxiety meds) for later in the day since I always run short? Decisions, decisions.

Speaking of medication, as I've mentioned previously I have started a new med called Pristiq. I woke fine yesterday morning, however when Husbfriend arrived and took me shopping I found myself very overstimulated by the lights, sounds and movement there. My vision was a bit sparkly (as in things looked like they were sprinkled with glitter), and I felt very agitated. My speech was quite scattered and I found it really hard to focus, jumping from conversation to conversation without finishing the last. Definitely wasn't the best I've ever felt. Not even close.

On the topic of shopping, I did manage to pick up some amazing​ things, courtesy of a tax adjustment working out in my favour.  I got myself a swag of stuff at Daiso, which is an amazing Japanese store filled with items that are only $2.80 unless otherwise marked. I filled my basket with an assortment of goodies, freaking out that I would have spent close to $100+ dollars. Worked out I only spent $40. THIS PLACE IS AMAZING! I also went and got my other nostril pierced to match the other side. Believe I or not I got it to help with a compulsion I have. Hopefully it works!

Groups are part of our every day life here. As a general rule you should attend 3 sessions a day. Today I only managed two as I had also gone for a walk around the grounds for 30 mins as exercise.. One of them was a relaxation session (which helped my wired brain) and the other was a creative writing session. I loved it! Got my mind to head off in a more creative and mindful direction. Well not entirely long term. But it did help for the short term.

I should probably attempt this sleep thing. I feel wiped out after succumbing to PRN. I wish you all a wonderful day ❤️

I'm Certified!

Just a quick one to say that yesterday I completed my Cognitive Behavioural Therapy course. This is the first course I have completed since Year 10. I have started many, including my Year 12 study, Uni degrees, Tafe courses, etc
 None of them have been completed. And now here I am, the proud owner of a certificate that I received in my mental hospital hahahaha.

While I may make a little fun of​ it I have to admit that I am so damn proud of myself. I could have stopped going. Others did. Even on the evening before I only had 4 hours sleep and I was tempted to skip it. So damn glad I didn't.

Pic of certificate to come.

I'm in Crazytown for another week.

It has been a big couple of days. Some good, some not so good. I've made revelations, changed medications, purchased things, and lost stuff, (which was found by other people). But hilarity ensued so that makes up for it.

CBT has been great. We have discussed saying "No", made a plan around relapsing, discussed self esteem, and identified our strengths. I would definitely say that the self-esteem and strengths lessons were the most confronting. I'm not great at identifying my strengths. Feel free to indulge me by commenting with ideas I could use for what my strengths are. CBT comes to an end tomorrow however I can do a continuation or another day course when I become an outpatient. Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) is definitely on my to-do list.

Changing medication as an inpatient is so much less brutal than doing it at home on your own. Having access to medication I can take when I feel unwell (aka PRN), such as valium and neulactil, has made the ride a lot less bumpier than it has before. PRNs are my new squad. Sorry other friends!

I have been a little retail crazy. I mean Carindale is right across the road, for craps sake. I wanted to make it feel more homely. Trent was hanging with me and he got me a comforter set, which will end up on Ezra's bed, some amazing shoes!!!!, a colouring in book since I left my others at home, and a puzzle. My husbfriend also picked a Squirtle plushy for me to remind me of Ezra. His nickname has been Squirtle for as long as his name has been Ezra.

Last night I had quite a bit of medication for sleep and anxiety. It is fair to say that I was pleasantly off my face. I decided I needed a snack, and the vending machine was in one of the other wings. I walked that hallway about 5 times trying to find the gosh darn thing. How can a vending machine just disappear!?! A nurse came along and informed me that I needed to go through a door to get to it. Oooops. However it was a rookie mistake, right? Since I was on the phone to Trent I thought I'd walk towards the entrance so I wouldn't wake the others. We had a nice chat that ended with "I need to go. I'm falling asleep". Fast forward to this morning at 6am when a burly security guard comes to tell me my wallet was found near the entrance and they needed to check that I didn't escape the hospital. Jinkies!

I should wrap it up and have a shower. Bye, Lovers xxxx

Medication Change Fun

I've been in the process of changing my antidepressant medication. I've been taking Prozac, however in the past I have had Lexapro, Cipramil, Cymbalta, Zoloft, and Effexor. Today I started Pristiq after a few days of weaning off the Prozac. Fingers crossed I have a better result with this one. Apparently it is a new medication (only about 5 years old) so there is a good chance they have learnt from previous mistakes when it comes to making meds.

Anyway, today I had my first dose. I also had my usual pain medications (Lyrica and Targin), with a side of endone and valium. Breakfast was almost like some kind of chemical degustation. I had slept through breakfast so I had no actual food in my tummy. Well provided you don't count the single serve box of Coco Pops that I ate while watching Iron Fist on Netflix last night.

This morning I had my CBT session which started out great. As the minutes ticked by I found that the coffee wasn't doing its job. Slowly but surely my eyes began dripping and I found it hard to keep them open. My facilitator agreed that I should come back to bed. Which is where I am now, typing all of this with my left eye closed. I think now is the time for me to close the other. But not without sharing a pic of how exhausted I look because I think it is kinda funny.

Love and stuff to you all xxx

Time for the Freakin' Weekend (I'll drink to that yeah yeah)

Weekends have a whole new meaning when you're in hospital. Therapy stops, therefore your whole routine stops. Suddenly you only have to do the things you choose to do. Which is a bit of a double-edged sword. For those who don't have friends or family to visit, or who don't feel like engaging with the outside world at all, I could imagine it would be a pretty dark couple of days. Thankfully I have the opposite. Although throw a medication change in there, and you have a bit of trouble brewing underneath.

Yesterday I had a couple of visitors. My lovely friend Jess came to pick me up and take me for a cruise around the shopping centre. We got our nails done, drank coffee and looked in clothes shops. I picked up a few of the bits and pieces that I needed, and a few that I didn't need but really wanted. Leggings (to wear as pants), thongs, makeup bag, and some body scrub to try to give my sense of smell a bit of a good time. We laughed lots, avoided committing crimes, and made it back to the hospital only almost an hour later than I said I would. Un/fortunately nobody seemed to notice/care that I wasn't back in time. I know I am a low risk patient, so perhaps that accounts for it?

Later in the afternoon I had a visit from three of my boys. My stepson wasn't feeling well so he stayed behind, however I had Aedin, Ezra and Trent here which was amazing. We went to a little wing place called Lord of the Wings. Ah mah gahd! It was so great. Wings, burgers, poutine, mozzarella sticks. How could you go wrong??? Can't wait for someone to come visit me around dinner time so we can go there again. And to top the night off, when we got back to my room I was able to take my littlest guy in for a shower with me. This is one of our routines that I have missed the most. Afterwards he lay on the bed with me and had a bottle. It was divine. A-Dawg had a great time playing with my Nintendo Switch, drinking the complimentary hot chocolate, and eating as many of the biscuits as he could hahahaha. Gosh I love that kid.

Sunday rolled around before I knew it, and thankfully my roomie woke me to let me know that today was Cooked Breakfast Day. Considering I had missed breakfast the past few mornings I decided I should definitely make a move to score myself some bacon. There are not many more motivating forces stronger than bacon, amirite? Afterwards I worked on doing my laundry and waited for my boys to visit again. This time I had the pleasure of seeing Trent, Ezra and Josh. I grabbed the box of equipment required to play table tennis and we went outside for some fresh air. Ezra had an absolute blast. Apparently people hitting a tiny little plastic ball is HILARIOUS! Ez gives it 10/10. We had a nice afternoon and it was sad having to say goodbye again.

The rest of the afternoon has been pretty ordinary. Anxiety levels have been high. The doc is weaning me off my current medication, which can account for some of it. However it wasn't until I came in here that I realised a lot of the symptoms I've been having have been anxiety. The biggest one being shortness of breath in the absence of exercise. Some moments I find that I just can't seem to catch my breath, no matter how hard I try. Thankfully my psychiatrist had written me up for some valium to take when I feel I need it. Problem is, the more I wean off this medication, the more the anxiety is kicking in. I'm not looking forward to how I will feel the next few days.

Anyway it's almost time for me to go and get my nighttime medications. I've already had my shower and spoilt my senses with some body scrub. I've rubbed some magnesium cream into my sore ankle (I'm doing a magnesium cream experiment as present, which I will talk about soon), and soon I will lay in bed with the lights off, and some Iron Fist on my laptop while I wait for sleep to hit. Sleep seems to be a lot more accommodating now that I am on some different medications. Once I go to sleep, I stay asleep.

Now enough about me, tell me about you. How was your weekend?

Therapy Begins

It has been a shit couple of days. Not because of the facility, it is because of my illness. My head has been taking me to some dark places and it really hasn't been nice. But I'm doing ok. Please don't worry. Lol I just accidentally typed dong instead of don't. See! I'm fine.

The Cognitive Behaviour Therapy has been interesting. We have discussed how the brain processes "worry". We have talked about depression and anxiety, the what when where how. It has been great information​, but the introspection afterwards can be rough. I've cried, hated myself, thought about how much of a burden I am, how much of a failure I am, how I wish I could just die. Thankfully I had my wonderful my here who looked after me, stood with me while I had a shower and washed my back. He let me know that things were ok.

I started some new medication last night to help me sleep. It was so good to actually have a good few solid hours of sleep. Sleep is so amazing because you can do it in your PJs, but having dreams can go either way. Unfortunately I woke this morning after a horrible dream and found myself in a mini panic attack. The realisation that it was just a dream helped bring me back down.

The food has been good. The coffee has been fine. Well the stuff I buy has been fine. The shit they provide is so darn awful that it makes me sad when I see people drink it.

Anyway just a little update for you all. Hopefully I will have some positive news to share next week ❤️

The First of Many

Today I woke feeling a little less enthusiastic than the day before. The reality of being away from my family had hit a bit, and so did the snoring of my roommate. Although to be fair she wasn't as loud as Trent is.

I made my way to the cafe after breakfast and got myself a coffee, which wasn't too terrible and made me not want to stab something. I did try the machine coffee in the kitchen but it was a Nescafe machine and the coffee tasted like a mixture of dirt and ash. Although to be fair I did kind of expect that it would, so at least I wasn't let down. The little cafe is pretty cute. There is indoor and outdoor seating, and some food options. The coffee was decent and it made me feel less like I was in hospital and unable to leave the grounds for 72 hours. When Trent came to visit a little later we walked down to grab a coffee and share a brownie together (nawwww).

Therapy wise I met with my psychiatrist again and talked a little about how I'm doing and what I'm going to be doing. He has got me in to a 2 week CBT course starting tomorrow morning. I do about 2 hours a day there learning about Cognitive Behavioural​ Therapy and how to use it in my every day life. The course actually started on Monday so to save me waiting another week they have managed to get me in if I do a bit of catchup reading tonight. Thankfully I don't have Foxtel here otherwise I'd be all "sorry but I really have to watch the latest episode of The Walking Dead. BYEEEEEE".

I went to the gym today and did a workout with the exercise physiologist which was great. He did a bit of an assessment first and I talked about my nerve root issues and my joint pain. He got me doing some treadmill, exercise bike, rower, and some hand weights. I'm not gonna lie. It felt good man. The sweat was dripping off me like crazy so I can back to my room for a shower and to spend some more time with Trent before he went home.

It was after he left that I felt like I was going to crumble. I didn't sleep too well and then I exhausted myself at the gym. I miss my boys. I am yearning for a cuddle with my baby. So while the facilities are amazing, I still have this brain of mine for company. And the depression and anxiety follows me everywhere I go. Even to the dinner buffet.

I am hoping that I am able to work on what I need to do to make life more positive and fulfilling. Depression has taken so much from me and let it hang on like a toxic friend. The kind of toxic friend I really need to get rid of.

By My Own Admission

I've had mental health issues since I was around 15 years old. I have struggled with depression and anxiety, signs of PTSD, and suicidal ideations. I have taken more medications that you can poke a stick at, and seen more therapists than I have fingers. Yet here I am almost 26 years later still struggling with the black dog.

Today I took the plunge and did something I've needed to do for a long time. I checked in to a private psychiatric hospital as an inpatient. There is a reason why I have done this now, and I will talk about that some other time. For now I want to talk about what my first day has been like.

I received a call this morning advising me that I needed to be here at 1pm. What the fuck! I thought I was going to be admitted on Tues or Weds. I don't have enough clean clothes! Ezra had gone to his Family Day Carer and I didn't get to say a proper goodbye! Cue internal meltdown. I still managed to get my stuff packed and buy myself some new pyjamas while Trent (my husbfriend) toddled off and bought me a freaking Nintendo Switch. Fuck yes! He wins best human of the year award.

We arrived here just after 1pm and waited for someone to come take me to my room and show me around. And waited. And waited. Eventually the nurse showed up and took me to my room to fill out forms before she took me for a tour. So I filled them out and waited. And waited. And waited. Finally a friend of mine with some experience here had popped in to see me so she gave me the tour. Hooray!

I got to meet the psychiatrist who I will be treated by. He seems really nice and has super clear handwriting, so I'm not sure that he actually is a doctor. I might need to check his credentials next time to make sure he isn't another patient who is delusional, who just thinks he is a doctor.

Dinner time came and went. There is a cute little buffet which the nurse told me was a more upmarket version of Sizzler. There was a distinct lack of cheesy toast so I have decided that she is either a liar or fucking delusional :D But seriously the food is pretty decent and there is also a cafe here so here's hoping they make a decent cup of coffee in the morning. Otherwise I will likely end up on the section with the padded cells.

All in all, my first experience here has been pretty good. I have a roomie who is nice and pretty much does her own thing. The psychiatrist told me that I am looking at a minimum of two weeks here. I will be chilling out, doing some group therapy, taking part is an exercise program and making sweet arse art projects. Just waiting for Angelina Jolie to swing by soon to take me on some crazy night time adventure like in Girl, Interrupted.

Good night lovers ❤️