So, after a month and a half of waiting, today was my big hospital appointment.
I left the hospital feeling numb. Why?:
- I got pushed a step backwards onto the drug I was on before this one, because even though it sucked/didn’t work, it did better than Cipralex (my current drug).
- My (completely necessary and time-sensitive) paperwork was not filled out. It will hopefully be done in the future.
- I have had another drug added to my regime in order to allow me to take the old SSRI again with less complications (ha), taking my daily total up to four different medications. My lorazepam dose was also bumped up another milligram.
- I was also informed that the inpatient referral that was supposed to be sent in November to the hospital in Guelph was never actually sent. That means that today we went through and filled out the last sheet—the one that nobody bothered filling out— and faxing the referral forms, so that if a year from now I need to live at the hospital, I have that option (once they call).
I am currently unable to get my prescription filled due to the fact that my doctor didn’t fill out the forms required for me to get the drug card from my aid worker. That means I get to either a) keep taking my non-functional medication or b) go cold turkey while waiting for the next one, OR c) pay out-of-pocket for my highly expensive medication regime. I may also completely run out of time (there is a deadline) to get my forms to the government and ensure that I’m on my way to being certified under disability financial aid.
Essentially, everything went to hell today. It’s a bummer, but I went out for lunch at Barney’s with Shane and after a mojito and a free beer I felt much better (I even got to keep the glass!). We rounded off the afternoon with some video games and stimulating conversation (read: mental distraction), and I felt even better. Now though, I’m home and out of the sun, and dozy as heck. I’m also starting to feel that familiar burn of brainfire starting up. Thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking….
Hopefully a bit of rest will help me get myself together properly. I would like tonight to be smooth.
My chest feels like it’s going to collapse.
If I had the ability write out all of the things I’m thinking about and wondering and considering and being, I would. The unfortunate reality is that I cannot, because there are too many and most of them are so tangled up in themselves and each other that anything I get out would just be a complete, unintelligible mess.
You know, I would be considerably more comfortable if I could calm even my physical self. I’m going to try a cold shower - I feel too hot. Too hot means too awake, and potentially more agitated. I really should get to inventing that hugging machine.
Because it’s 11:36pm and I have to be up by 4:30, my brain switch has flipped.
Now I’m in some kind of weird mixed mood where I’m too awake and too energized while simultaneously feeling like a miserable, idea-ridden sack of depressive crap.
Should I paint things? Read more books? Watch more documentaries? Do another jigsaw puzzle? Sculpt? Write music? Go for a run? I don’t know.
It’s a really weird feeling, preparing yourself to mentor someone who was once a hero to you.
I’ve been spending most of today adjusting myself in preparation of tomorrow, when I’ll be sitting down to visit with and provide advice and assistance to someone I’ve always viewed as a sort of royalty in my lifetime of sport fighting. She has always been effortlessly successful, capable, and strong, and in her presence I always felt like I faded into the background. She trained with me and helped me develop a fighting style that was all my own, all the while never allowing me to come even remotely close to controlling the ring with her. I needed that example of success to give myself direction in that world, and I admired her so much that sometimes I even pretended she was my superhero older sister. Now, it’s my turn to be needed, and on an even more important level.
Normally I might feel a slight nervousness before helping others with things regarding mental and emotional health, just because I know it can be a minefield if you don’t read and consider each person just so - this time, I feel so nervous I’m almost queasy, and it’s because of a different reason entirely. I know that I know my stuff and that it’s rare for me to be completely unable to help someone, and yet I can’t help but feel a real case of nerves in regards to this meetup. I am purposefully reminding myself that worry solves nothing, and that it’s best for me to go in without expectations or prepared words, but the nervousness to see this person (especially since my mother took the liberty of telling her every private detail of my depression experience - thanks, mom, I really appreciate being opened wide in front of someone like that) still exceeds my current capability to calm myself. From what I’ve been told, her problems are similar to those of plenty of other people I’ve helped in the past: anxiety and possible oncoming depression. What’s standing in my way is the idea of her position “above” me.
I don’t usually mind having people referred to me for assistance, because I genuinely like to help others. I think that in this case I just feel overexposed and unsure of how to shake my perspective of this person as someone who is above me in rank (I mean, she technically is… but only in terms of our martial arts rankings/abilities and age, nothing else in life). My memories are standing in the way of who we are now as individuals and it’s a little bit limiting and frustrating for me to attempt to process.
It is and will be a challenge.
