Okay, so before all the weekend's drama with my mysterious fall (which we've decided was either caused by low oxygen or blood sugars)...
I had a slightly disastrous appointment with the mental health nurse last week.
I go into each appointment telling myself 'it can't be worse than the last one', but it is.
Mum still isn't even really talking about appointments or her absence from them. It's kind of settled now, but for the first three or four appointments, I had no idea if she was planning to come in or not until I was collected from the waiting room.
This time, after not having come in to a few, she actually stood up too.
"Do you want mum to come in?"
I don't know if the dietician had time to call her or not, because she didn't seem to know exactly what was going on. Maybe it was a coincidence and she was trying to get me to talk by myself. Maybe I just threw mum a look when she stood up.
Anyway, I filled her in on the past week's drama with regards to mum not coming to appointments, despite the fact it's more stressful for me to not have her there. I didn't get the reaction I was expecting.
She thinks that mum is 'tired of me' after so long. No, 'exhausted'.
She even went on about how, as a parent, she'd be tired of it too.
She went on and gave this big speech about individualisation, that when we're 16-20 years old, we separate from our families and get our own life and friends become more important and you start figuring out who you are as a person.
I've been there, done that, then AN came along and I lost it all.
I had all of that.
But as soon as she said mum is tired, exhausted, of me, all that flashed in my head was the Horrible Psychiatrist, when he implied I was a burden and should 'release mum from her role as carer' so she can have her own life. 'Release', like I was holding her prisoner.
Why is it so terrible to need a carer past the age of 16?
Mum says it's not true, that she's not tired of me and I'm not a burden.
But would she even admit it if she did?
Most of the appointment I was just in tears. It was utterly pathetic.
She offered to ask mum to come in, or to talk to her one-on-one at the end. No. Nothing makes me more uncomfortable than a one-on-one with me out of the room.
"Is it making you feel worse to come in?"
"I don't know."
"Do you feel like you've not got much choice?"
What a stupid question. Even after I started seeing her, my GP couldn't resist reminding me that she'd had me 'on contract' to start seeing the MHN before Easter, and late-May is not Easter.
She suggested maybe fortnightly appointments, but I just can't get through two weeks with zero chance of things getting better.
I was so distressed after that appointment, and I didn't know who else to talk to, so I made an appointment the next day to see the dietician.
Mum and I's relationship may be deteriorating. But the dietician and I's relationship is building back up just as quickly.
I was already on the verge of tears when she called me in, my name said with notable surprise.
"I'm sorry," I said "I didn't know where else to go."
"I figured, when I saw you had another appointment, that it was either something really good or really bad."
I told her about the appointment, what she'd said about mum being tired of me. It was nice to just talk to someone who actually gets it. I couldn't even remember anything else the MHN and I talked about. The dietician asked, but everything was just blank.
I apologized again for coming in. I know it was probably wrong of me, but I was desperate. But she said to come in any time, and no charge for today.
She walked me out to the waiting room, and mum was gone. She'd said she was popping around to the chemist, but she should've easily been back. This was not the day for being left alone in the world.
She walked me out to the car, which was unluckily parked down the street. Even walking 3 or 4 car spaces down the street is terrifying, let alone when I'm by myself.
She wasn't in the car. I ended up sitting with the dietician in her office for a few more minutes, until mum re-appeared and the girls at the desk told her where to find me.
The dietician had asked me to journal each day, just a short little something about what happened or how I'm feeling, and bring it in on Tuesday. Apart from the general fears of letting someone read my journal, I ended up spending all my time catch-up journalling about appointments and the fall.
And I did see her yesterday, black eye and all. Last Tuesday she gave me the goal of having just one supplement through the week. And I did - a 164 cal Ensure the night before I saw her again. Honestly, I'd rather just stick with the lower intake than tag on an extra supplement.
But now she's going away, and I won't see her for the next three weeks. I have one appointment with my GP, and whatever happens with the MHN, but I can't say I'm much looking forward to it.
There is a lot of tension at home, with this sudden change in dynamics with mum and appointments. It bubbles to the surface, threatening to explode whenever I have an appointment.
It's not worth it. I'm tired of crying. I'm shutting off.
My black eye started to come up yesterday, and the bruise on the bump the day before. I'm guessing tomorrow or Thursday will be the worst of it, but I'm doubtful it's going to be very photo-worthy. I'm still nursing a nasty headache. It wasn't too bad for days 2 & 3, but yesterday and today it's been back.
My appointments for the last week and a half (Tue 9th - Thu 18th) have looked like this:
Weekend GP x1
There's still a lot to say, but this post is long enough, so I'll try to post again soon.