and I don’t know when I will ever be able to stop taking them. It feels overwhelming.
I got my appointment with the specialist, it took three weeks and I had a choice (!) of hospitals. I am so impressed with the consultation time and the quality of attention that I received that I fear I may have to postpone my critique of Michael Moore’s glowing report on the NHS. Hmm. Perhaps not. I sat and waited almost two hours past my appointment time and there was conspicuous shiftlessness on the part of some staff (I don’t so much mind the doing nothing bit, it’s the doing nothing where I can SEE you doing nothing that gets to me) while at least two patients in wheelchairs sat and withered away to nothing instead of being taken to the toilet or back to their ward.
So, I have another condition besides all the other confusing and depressing diagnoses I have already tucked away under my belt. Now I have pigment dispersion syndrome. It’s a kind of glaucoma and it usually affects men between the ages of 20 and 40. I haven’t been given any treatment yet, my pressures are just this side of normal at 21 and 22. (Whatever that means) And I have thin corneas. So I’ve stopped panicking and I’ve started trying to be cool about this kind of shit. I’m ageing and things change when that happens. I think I can confidently expect to be seeing more of these waiting rooms and consultants as time goes by, so I’m going to teach myself to calm down and get used to it.
I did some alternate nostril breath while I waited and that really worked for me. I felt calm in spite of the delay and I think I can make it work in other circumstances. I get to take a train in two weeks, something I haven’t done in years. I may panic. I will try the breath and see what happens!
I’m feeling so sorry for myself. Sobby and quiet and lonely. I am doubting my ability to finish my PhD, and if I don’t finish it I will have wasted so much time and effort. I feel like crawling into a hole. I am scanning my vision constantly, convinced that I am losing my sight. I am frightened of what might happen when I see the consultant. I don’t want to know my future.
But. My incredible, loving, sensitive yoga teacher gave me a gift last night before class. A stunning framed photograph of a crumbling statue of Buddha, taken in Burma. She bought it for me and thought that the time was right to give it to me. This made me incredibly emotional. And ineffably happy.
I got my eyes tested at the weekend. Last time I went they said that my ocular pressure was elevated, but told me not to worry and they’ll see me in two years time. So this time, they think I have early onset glaucoma. Now I’m on a waiting list for my hospital appointment. It could take months. The good news is, I don’t need new glasses.
I. am. so. pissed. off.
So, every day I take 30 mgs of paroxetine. I take a beta blocker for anxiety and BP. I take aspirin because I’m paranoid about heart attack and stroke (my mother had a series of strokes at 55 and an uncle died at 42 from heart attack) and I am starting to take MSM which is just a supplement but I am told it works wonders on connective tissue.
I have been on the Paroxetine for about ten years. Up and down on the doses but always on it. I suspect that I always will be. I don’t fear coming off it but I have such appalling depression and anxiety/panic when I’m on the lower doses that I just don’t see the point of trying any more. I can even feel pretty crappy at this dose, so I don’t know, maybe I’m getting too tolerant?
I don’t think that I need the BP meds anymore, my BP is really down and I’m exercising like a bugger, but I can’t seem to get my head round having the conversation with my doctor. I need to shape myself. I don’t know what seals my mouth when I get in there.
Today I feel really good. The sun is out and I’m freckly and warm and happy. I hope it lasts.
I rashly thought that I was better and I wasn’t. I’m taking nothing for granted this time! I’m picking up some pieces of life and thought and experience and trying to glue them all together again and it may take a while. Anyway, I’m feeling more in control of my depression, and today I shall do what I can and not desire too much more than I can handle! Is that the key?Is there a key at all? How do I do this over and over again? Does it end? Does it just get better? Do I become complacent about my situation? I’m all questions and worry and no answers. I feel wobbly and angry and flattened out all at once. In my head I’m running miles and miles away.
I’m posting here today because I think it’s the right place for me. OSF is too much about me when I’m better. This space is for me when I’m struggling. There are so many issues popping up for me this week. Issues about my medications, my health in general and my mental health status. I feel drained with worry and flattened out by self-loathing and doubt. My body energy is at it’s lowest ebb and my mind is racing away with me. I don’t know how to even this out. Yoga yesterday was amazing. my body worked well and my meditation was a real break from the constant chatter in my head. But today I am back to square one, relying on cliche and chocolate.
Some part of me wants to be somewhere else and moving on. Then the nasty, spitty voice interjects with reminders about my constant need for safety and how where I am is best and no-one Will EVER take care of me again if I leave and the meds will ALWAYS be a part of my life that will split me off from other people. I am not normal. I am not normal. This sentence runs on and on in my head, underneath all the other stuff. Some days I can hear it very loudly and it crushes every last little bit of hope. Other days I know the absolute pure, distilled truth of the words and they make me proud. I am NOT normal. I am Unique. How scary is that?