I know I haven't said much since the mental health nurse left. I don't want to even think about it, let alone write about it.
So I'm going to try to do a bit of an overdue update
I saw my GP this week, which was mostly trying to figure out 'where to from here'. She panicked me a bit, because she said she was going to do this mental health assessment about both my history and current situation. She thought she'd be able to fill out most of it without asking too many questions. Panic. I said I didn't want her answering them without asking me, it makes me so uncomfortable it isn't even funny. In the big picture she hasn't been my GP long enough to really know my history.
That was going to be unpleasant, but then she offhandedly mentioned that the subsidy from doing the assessment would be around $85 per session, when I know the new MHN's fee is less than that. It turns out she was under the impression I was going to see a psych. Defences up, I start rambling that I wasn't going to see a psych, that it wasn't the plan and it's not okay. But it was just a mix-up in communication somewhere - she thought the new mental health nurse was a psychologist (she's a Registered Nurse) - so I didn't need the assessment at all.
She still wants to leave it a month until she puts in the referral. At the moment I've lost enough motivation to not want to rush into it anyway, so I'm over that. Part of me was even hoping it'd be optional.
"But you need to do it soon. We can't put it off until next year, or even later this year."
"I'm not trying to."
Until then, I'm still hopefully meeting the MHN off-the-books in a few weeks, but beyond that I think that's it. My GP did make an amazing offer though, that she'll try to work a spare room at the clinic for us so it stays within my comfort zone, even though they shouldn't because she doesn't work there any more. I can't even put into words the stress that takes off my shoulders. I wasn't sure if I could do it at all if she had to come into the house or I had to go elsewhere.
Outside appointments, I don't really know how to write about how I'm doing or what I'm feeling right now. I don't want to think about it. I'm journalling a lot, but it's... fragments. Rambles. Rants. Lists of one-word feelings. I can't piece it together.
I'm just not functioning. Everything seems so overwhelming. It's like I'm swimming against the tide. Too many days pass and I've done nothing but stare at the wall and smoke and pick at my skin and breakdown and cry and hurt myself. I'm brimming, overflowing, with anxiety. I try to keep distracted when I can, reading blogs or immersing myself in gaming or binge-watching the same old TV and movie series, but sometimes it's all too much and I'm just... trying to get through the day in the least distress possible.
I just feel so alone. So lost. Scared. I want to shrink away and hide from the world where nothing can reach me.
My sleep is still messing with me, but I think it might be because I haven't been remembering my meds 100% of the time. I have those little weekly pill cases to keep them all organized, and at the end of the week I looked at it and saw I'd only taken my meds 9 times out of 21. Sometimes I forget to take them, but honestly, sometimes I just don't care enough. I've been pretty good these past few days though, so hopefully that'll help
It's kinda nice though, the nights I stay up (though I prefer them when I do get some sleep). It's my time where I don't have to think or do. It's the only time of day I get some respite from the constant anxiety and thoughts and pressure.
When I went to see the dietician, mum's little blue car was being repaired, so we took my brother's big red car. Now, you must understand that I have the earliest appointment of the day, and there's only ever our car in the parking lot. The dietician usually gets there a few minutes after us - it's actually become a bit of a running joke to see who gets there first - and it always throws her for a loop when mum's little blue car isn't there.
"I thought maybe you'd done something and ended up in A&E, what with the MHN and all..."
And thank you guys for your amazing feedback on my aprons. It means a lot, really. I get extremely self-judgemental about my sewing (...in case you hadn't noticed...) Honestly, when I first complete a project, I usually end up either frustrated, hating myself, or crying.
When I last saw the MHN she asked if I could make her one. Red gingham. She loves aprons. I might talk to her about it next time, and I can always post it to her office to take some of the deadline pressure off. Sewing's yet another one of those things that's just too much right now (though I am slowly working on a couple of itty bitty dresses I promised one of the Blogger mommies)