This week has been busy catching up with appointments.
On Tuesday, I saw the dietician for the first time in six weeks. I missed a couple of appointments, then she was away for a few, plus the stint in hospital. So it's been a while.
We talked about the overdose and drinking and what TV shows we've been watching. It was so good to just catch up and be able to talk to someone.
She asked about weighing me, and I said no, that the drinking has shot my weight up over the past couple of months. When she asked for a rough number, I just said
Yesterday, I saw my GP. She begrudgingly gave me back my regular PRNs after a speech on how I need to stick around, that she doesn't want to be responsible for my death, and is wary of giving me more meds in case I take a fatal overdose. I haven't been given them since the overdose, and as a result I've been skipping my regular meds and feeling horrible, so I have extra in case I need them.
She wants me to start returning leftover meds to the pharmacy after I build up five extra, but to be honest, I'm hesitant. My pill stash has become a kind of safety blanket. It's my way out. It's my way of getting a great when life becomes too much. It's my go-to for it I decide I'm just tired of it all. And that's a lot to give up.
Then, this morning, mum had gone to pick up her own meds, and the pharmacist told her that they now have to see me at the door at each delivery to hand back leftovers. I can't do that. Usually, they just quietly slip the pack behind the security door. I have so much trouble even opening the door for my fortnightly grocery delivery. I can't face some stranger stickybeaking twice a week. My GP knows this, and it wasn't the deal anyone. I'm allowed to have a reasonable amount of extras up my sleeve in case of emergency – not give everything back twice a week.
My usual meds have also been changed again. The lorazepam at midday is gone, and replaced with another oxazepam. Now I'm on 300mg seroquel morning and night, and 30mg oxazepam at midday and night, plus 45mg oxazepam for PRNS. They've been pushing me for a while to change to just one type of benzo, and hopefully it'll work better.
Even though oxazepam initially started as a sleeping pill for me, it's become one of the most useful meds I've ever been on. The only downside to having it at midday is that I'm not supposed to drive after taking it, which is going to make continuing to learn tricky at best.
I did tell my GP that it's not been going so well with my new psychologist, and she said she'd give her a call and talk to her about giving more active advice instead of just talking pointlessly.
I was actually supposed to my the psychologist this morning, but I didn't go. I'm just so tired of it all. I did actually write a note to give her last time, just a couple of days before the overdose, because saying the words was too hard, but I couldn't even do that. From the morning I sit down, she just makes me feel like shit. I feel belittled and laughed at. I can't talk to her like I should be able to.
An hour before the appointment, I just broke down crying because I can't keep doing this.
I don't care if I'm 'on contract' to see the new psychologist for six months before I'm allowed to say it's not working. I can't keep going and sitting there when she makes me feel even worse. I'm just tired of the whole damn system.
After cancelling the appointment, a few hours later I got a text from the psychologist's office, saying
“[Psychologist] has been speaking with [GP] and both would like you to make an ongoing appointment. Please ring to make a time."
It looks like I'm not getting out of this one so easily. Ugh.
Speaking of – thanks to everyone for your feedback and love on my last post. Some of you mentioned seeing the hospital psychiatrist as an outpatient. Although I think it's not going to be possible, I think I might ask my GP if there's any way if it could happen. So, fingers crossed.