At my last psych review I half heartedly agreed to change meds. I’d slowly reduce the venlafaxine and start sertraline (keeping the quietiapine and mirtazapine).
I’d had some success with sertraline during my uni days, but then with a little time to reflect; I remembered the weight gain!!! I frantically called my CPN. “N we can’t change the meds, I won’t take them!”
Our pharmacy, who to be honest, have been struggling to keep track of my meds off late, have now dispensed the wrong ones. So tonight I have no quietiapine or mirtazapine. I’m freaking out, stupidly, freaking out!!!! How will I sleep???? What will I do???
As readers you may guess the answer to that one. I’m a wreck, and no one’s really noticed.
I’ve turned 33 today. Right now, I really don’t want to see 34. Put simply, I’m feeling really sad. I want to go to bed and never wake up.
OH surprised me with a fitbit this morning. It’s just what I wanted, but I’ll likely be returning it. I can’t read the display. I’m a little gutted and honestly I’m sick of my crappy vision.
Myself and OH went out for dinner, as mum is here to babysit. If mum wasn’t here I’d be throwing up right now. I feel absolutely disgusting. To quote my mum; “you’ve not gained weight on your face, just your gut!”
I feel really guilty about having dessert.
I love OH and my Little man but I really really can’t do this anymore. There’s that inner conflict again. I really want to give up.
I’m no good for either of them.
My gas tank is pretty much empty today. I’m running on fumes. Last night I lay in bed staring at the ceiling for 4 hours, before deciding to just get up. OH was in a thundering snore beside me and it was driving me insane. Every breath he took mocked my inability to sleep.
At 2am I dragged myself and a duvet to our living room sofa. I made a cup of tea (de-caf) and proceeded to undo all the great work I had done at the gym earlier by scoffing a mars bar, crisps and some sweets. After 2 episodes of “it’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia” I began to feel drowsy. OH woke me at 5 am with his morning routine and so i dragged myself back to our bed.
By 7.30 I was up again carrying a little toddler into our room. He lay beside me watching cartoons until 9, but I didn’t sleep. I was supposed to bring Little man into nursery today but I couldn’t face it.
I need to have a shower and go and pick up meds (I’m sooooo sick of them only giving me 7 days at a time) but I can’t be arsed.
I’m so tired…………….
I’m feeling like a failure today. I’m slipping back into old habits; the same habits that lead me down a dark path before. I’ve had a chat with my CPN, and I’ve not taken any steps to improve my support system. I feel like I’m wasting her time. If your patients don’t take on the advice you give, then what’s the point in seeing them? I’ve got psychology on Thursday and no doubt I’ll be asked similar questions, but I’m faitering.
My GP won’t prescirbe me anymore than 7 days worth of meds, and I have to go in and sign for every script. Its bloody annoying but probably wise. I’ve just found zopiclone for an even cheaper price online. I don’t know why I’m looking. The good news I guess, is that I genuinly don’t have enough in my bank account right now to make the purchase. I’ve registered with the company though. I guess its my back up plan.
Stop it Loopy, your son needs his mum. I’d actually give anything right now, jsut to talk with my favourite support worker or named nurse from the psych ward. But that’s no longer an option.
I did manage the gym this evening, with a little persuasion from OH. it was a tough session though. I lacked energy today.
It was a pleasure to blog yesterday as I was documenting good spirits. It’s even more of a pleasure today as I’ve now had 2 good days in a row!! It’s been quite a while since that has happened. Again I don’t know why. Maybe its the meds, or maybe I’m just slowing readjusting to life outside the walls of the psych ward, but whatever it is; it feels good.
Today has also been a productive day in terms of taking steps to recovery and returning to lifes daily rituals. I took little man to nursery this afternoon. It went much better than I had anticipated. He was a little clingy, but there were no tears or tantrums and I was even able to leave him for a little while.
We then braved the commute home during rush hour, squashed like sardeens into the sweat box that rumbles along tracks and stops at every hole in the hedge. I put headphones on little man today and allowed him to watch cartoons on my phone. I never wanted to be one of those parents that shoves a scrren in front of their toddler at every oppertunity, but today it worked. He was content for the entire journey and more importantly my heart rate stayed within normal limits. I guess if it makes my commute less stressful then it’s worth it.
I also had coffee today with my closest work confidante. It was lovely to see her again, and I don’t have to hide who I am with her which is such a relief. We chatted about all sorts but she also mentioned that another colleague is off sick at the moment. Off course I don’t wish illness on anyone, but I was just a little happy to hear its not just me landing people in the crapper, picking up my responsabilities.
I also know that I have someone I can talk to when i return who understands the difficulties of mental ill health, the challenges of returning to work, and she’s someone who will take the piss out off me at every oppertunity and will help me to see the funny side off all lifes dramas!.
I’ve just come back from the gym and my endorphins are pumping. OH has put little man to bed, the house is peaceful and I’m going to have a cuppa.
I’ve said this before; the UK’s online pharmacy market is dangerous. Members of the general public can with relative ease, obtain prescription medications with minimal cost. Except the cost is potentially not minimal; I almost lost my life! For vulnerable adults like myself who don’t always think rationally or clearly, this is a potentailly fatal system.
So………………… I wrote to the Prime Minister. I recieved a reply yesterday.
If you read it, you’ll probably agree with me, that I’ve been fobbed off somewhat. Tomorrow is World Mental Health Day. Tomorrow I will write to our Secretary of State for Health and Social Care; Matt Hancock, and I will raise a concern with the GPhC (General Pharmaceutical Council)
My ears are crackling, my nasal passages are inflamed, my glands are swollen and my body feels heavy and unwieldy. My mind is fuzzy and everything aches. I’m physically exhausted.
How do you elevate your mood when your body just wants to collapse? I’ve just come back from a short night bike ride. I really had to force myself to go. It’s the one thing though that I seem to be able to push upon myselft, and it doesn’t put much stain on my aching ankle joint.
It was eerily quiet except for a couple of anglers down along the shore front. It was just me, the sea breeze, the city skyline and my thoughts. My thoughts move a little slower when I’m pumping pedals. I’m no longer able to kick Wilson, which is proving problematic, so I need those few moments of calm that two wheels bring me.
I cried on Mum today. She finally rang me this morning and I broke down. Nothing has really changed and I’m losing hope. OH who promised to step up seems less motivated than ever. I think I’ve broken him too.
We need help.
I can barely weight bear on my ankle today. The pain appears to be coming directly from the ankle bone. There is no bruising or swelling, just pain. It was a little sore yesterday whilst on the treadmill, but nothing I couldn’t run through. I am wondering if this is a side effect of my medication. My legs have also become increasingly tired and strained this past few weeks, which admittidely I had attributed to kicking Wilson; but I’ve not really done that much lately and still my legs ache.
My daily cocktail now consists of Quietiapine (150 mg total) and Mirtazapine (45 mg).
Lets check the BNF (essentially the British pharmacists bible) shall we;
First up; Quietiapine
Common or very common; Asthenia (I have been experienceing some physical weakness and lack of energy); dysarthria (Thankfully, I’m pretty sure my speech has been fine); dyspnoea (breathing also fine); elevated plasma-cholesterol concentrations; elevated plasma-triglyceride concentrations (I’ve not had a lipid profile done lately); increased appetite (oh yes); irritability (oh yes); peripheral oedema (none yet thankfully); sleep disorders (sleep stuggles to find me)
I’m not going to comment on the uncommon, rare or very rare side effects listed as quite frankly they’ll just induce fear, but there is nothing listed that could explain my joint pain.
Next up; Mirtazapine
Common or Very Common; Abnormal dreams (yes initially but they have subsided); agitation (on withdrawal); anxiety (lots of social anxiety); anxiety (on withdrawal); arthralgia (BINGO!, I am certainly experiencing localised joint pain); confusion; dizziness; dizziness (on withdrawal); drowsiness; dry mouth; fatigue; headache (on withdrawal); increased appetite; insomnia; myalgia (my quads ache); nausea (on withdrawal); oedema; postural hypotension; tremor; vomiting (on withdrawal); weight gain (Certainly have the weight gain)
Well don’t those side effects just fill your heart with optimism; the flipping drugs are worse than the condition. Having read all these I’ve probably now increased my suseptability to experiencing the nocebo effect. However, Mirtazapine could be the culprit in terms of my joint pain. I shall have to monitor this.
31%!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!; That’s a scary number when it relates to your body fat mass. I had my gym induction today and I swear I could hear my organs weeping under all that fat. My visceral fat has definitely increased since my hospital admission but oh dear lord!!! Then I’m told my BMI is 23. This is the highest my BMI has ever been (I like to stay around 20). O.k lets be honest BMI is a pretty useless measure but when you combine it with such a high body fat percentage, lets face it, I’m on the fast track to cardiovascular disease.
It’s not exactly what you want to hear, when you’re already feeling rather vulnerable but I guess my life needs to be goal orientated this next few months, so lets add that one to the list. By Christmas my BMI will be back to around 21 and my body fat will be in the mid 20’s. On the bright side, despite the devastating news for my arteries, the gym did boost my mood a little.
I will however miss the hospital gym, as I had it all to myself, but more importantly I could wear whatever I wanted without shame. The scars on my arms didn’t much matter in that environment. I almost forgot myself today, and only just rememberd to pull on a long sleeve T-Shirt when I clocked myself in the mirror, just before leaving the house. I hate these scars just a little more now that I’ve been released but I shouldn’t. They are my battle scars and despite their ugly appearance they served an important purpose, and in a weird way played a role in my recovery. Let’s just try not to create any more.
You’re out now Loopy. Make and keep those goals and you WILL start to feel better.
You’ve got this!!
I didn’t sleep much last night, thoughts of what would face me today raced through my head and in all honesty I was scared. I got up arouund 8, had what will hopefully be my last ever slice of ice cold soggy toast and sat in the window sill by my room pondering what the day would bring. My favourite HCA chatted with me, and put me at ease for a little while. She had to go out with another patient though so once I was on my own again, my crappy head ran riot.
My psychologist found me sobbing in my room at 11 and we discussed my fears at the start of our session. I can’t really explain what the tears were about; I think just sheer fear of returing to the life that broke me in the first place, and the community mental health team that let me down before (although I have my own care co-ordinator now). I was however reassured that I wouldn’t just be abandoned following discharge. The psychologist can offer me 3 outpatient appointments but she’s going to ask her boss if she can do a couple more.. I’ll find out on Wednesday when I go in for my final review.
This morning I didn’t want to leave but luckily, as it happens, after I asked about going home, I was left sitting around for hours for my TTO’s (meds to take home) to be written up. During this agonising wait, other patients kicked off and were generally just difficult to be around. Why on earth would I want to stay in a place with such unrest when I can be in my own home, with my own things and my own space.
By the time my TTO’s were written up, I was not exactly ready but definitetly determined to leave. My favourite HCA had chatted with me again, gave me a reassuring hug and a little confidence boost. My named nurse who is also amazing, gave me my meds, another reassuring hug and much needed words of encouragment. They were both there for me today when I needed them most.
So with a knot in my stoamch and my last possesions on my back I headed off to the train station. It’s now bedtime, and I’ve found this evening o.k. It still feels a little forced and sureal, and I can’t stop wondering what they’re upto on the ward. My son however has showered me with hugs and kisses and has proven this evening that he missed me. OH did as he had promised and saw a GP today, and sorted out his childcare vouchers.
I’m heading off to bed now, glad that I’ve been given some PRN to take home. I’m not quite confortable here yet. I do however realise that I can’t fix anything whilst I’m an inpatient. Therefore I need to cope, because I need to be discharged on Wed as planned to set about altering my future for the better.