Sooooo, I bunked off group therapy tonight. All too new,
all new people, a journey back in the dark in an area I'm not too fussed
on, and homework I probably won't be committed to do at this time. All
too much, as I try to tackle the latest obstacle at hand, thanks to the
DWP.
But luckily the one true counsellor I trust, calmed me down a
little this afternoon, and I feel a bit less extreme, Downton Abbey
drama about it. Just yet another life shite to fight through - at a time
that again I thought I was on a slow road to recovery. Obviously not.
Yet another illusion. Delusion. And I'm as emotional and low as ever.
Also
failed to go to the gym today too. Meh. All due to last nights antics,
and explosive upset stomach, I just didn't make it. Exhausted as soon as
I got up.
I returned home to find the ESA report on my doorstep.
My initial post below "Wow. Old blogs and bigger bellies" stands. Very
generalised. I was clothed, washed, talking, travelled, I socialise
twice a month! I MUST be fit for work !!! My behaviour and face was
normal - if crying while trying to talk is normal that is. They failed
to mention that. All this stuff I can do, is on a good day, but less so
on bad days, and how many bad days do I get? At the moment the bad still
outweighs the good.
*Have I cried this afternoon = Less Amazon, a little more Avon.
*Have I exercised > Nought to Olympian = No. But walked to my counselling - really hoping that counts?
*Anxiety level > Nought to butt explosive = Whoosh!
*Level of worry > Nought to Armageddon = Zoom zoom!!
*Dark
thoughts > Nought to Da.Vader = An accidental boiling water scalding
did it for me. Honest. Attempts to descale the kettle - fail.
Tomorrow is another day. A Friday. This can only be a good thing,
can't it?
Thursday, 15 September 2016
Puff Westy
I'm such a contradiction of terms, thought I'd go to the gym before seeing my counsellor today. I thought wrong. Just trying to keep it together... again.
*Have I cried today = Riverdance...
*Have I slept > Nought to insomniac = A couple of restless hours.
*Have I exercised > Nought to Olympian = No.
*Anxiety level > Nought to butt explosive = 11. Explosive.
*Level of worry > Nought to Armageddon = 111.
*Dark thoughts > Nought to Da.Vader = 1111.
DWP still see me 'fit for work', the impromptu phone call from my doctor due to my crazy 1am email, suggests otherwise. And the PIP assessment report can't be sent out, because their network is down - story of my life.
Puffball me - looks like
I've gone a couple of
rounds with Mike Tyson.
*Have I cried today = Riverdance...
*Have I slept > Nought to insomniac = A couple of restless hours.
*Have I exercised > Nought to Olympian = No.
*Anxiety level > Nought to butt explosive = 11. Explosive.
*Level of worry > Nought to Armageddon = 111.
*Dark thoughts > Nought to Da.Vader = 1111.
DWP still see me 'fit for work', the impromptu phone call from my doctor due to my crazy 1am email, suggests otherwise. And the PIP assessment report can't be sent out, because their network is down - story of my life.
Puffball me - looks like
I've gone a couple of
rounds with Mike Tyson.
So attractive
Sobbing on the phone to a stranger, as you have no one else to call. Super snot cementing in your nostrils.
It's either that, or blunt scissors on the leg. Always the right leg though, don't ask me why. Mind you, why bother, I'm sure the cat would comply, via his feisty teeth. Most of my scars are gifted from him.
It really has been years since I've been self motivated in such a way. Thank you, DWP, for crashing me back down to earth.
And thank you, kind lady at the Samaritans, for picking up, second time around... And listening for 36 minutes to my snorting and snotting as I try to breathe between sobs.
'Mind' is closed for the night. Lucky Mind.
It's either that, or blunt scissors on the leg. Always the right leg though, don't ask me why. Mind you, why bother, I'm sure the cat would comply, via his feisty teeth. Most of my scars are gifted from him.
It really has been years since I've been self motivated in such a way. Thank you, DWP, for crashing me back down to earth.
And thank you, kind lady at the Samaritans, for picking up, second time around... And listening for 36 minutes to my snorting and snotting as I try to breathe between sobs.
'Mind' is closed for the night. Lucky Mind.
Wednesday, 14 September 2016
Wow. Old blogs and bigger bellies
Found my old bloggette... what a waste of e-space eh? But interesting to read back on the few posts that are here.
A new reason to start this old chestnut up - mental health. Ooo can I tag? #MentalHealth #EndTheStigma #Depression Hmmm? No, I can't.
Pull up a chair, bring your own coffee & biccies. :P
Why I struggle with the system that does not give a shit about mental health - unless of course, you want to harm yourself or harm someone else, then they 'might' take you a bit more seriously, but no guarantees.
Do I want to hurt myself? I didn't, but as events progress my thoughts do grow darker and darker toward not so nice stuffness.
Events that I won't go into of last year are still taking their toll, and I'm unable to lift from its fallout. I've had one prolonged period of counselling, as I find talk therapies much more helpful than medication, and yes I've tried the latter. One hopes that you find a good counsellor, who will listen, not judge, and make all the right noises in the pauses. I thought I did, but as the period with them came to a close, my mind did wonder. But then, that could be the beast of depression talking.
Since then I've come up against continuing battles, one of which has pushed me to restart this old bloggykins up. To air my grievances in a safe e-place. Safe-ish.
I blubbed all the way through my PIP (Acronym city here we come - Personal Independent Payment) assessment, and scored nothing, in towards a serious benefit to help those seriously disabled. No biggie, as I did not expect anything. But to cry through the whole medical assessment and score nothing, it really does make you wonder. I must declare that the nurse in this assessment did come across as a real human, unlike the next one.
Then on the ESA assessment (Employment Support Allowance - those unable to work at the current time), I only cried a bit, because the so-called nurse doing the assessment wasn't interested. Got a cold, blank, disinterested, woman, who wanted to get through the spiel as quick as possible. Wham, bam, I know all I need to know about your long term mental health issues, and your life problems in 30 minutes. Just like that.
So it comes down to: you can dress yourself, you can feed yourself, you can clean yourself, you can travel to here, you can talk for yourself, you can make eye contact, you can pay a bill, you can use a phone and computer = you are fit for work. Cheers. Bye.
So each one then - hey, I did say pull up a chair, maybe a sofa would be more suitable. Sorry.
1. Dress myself: On good days yes. On a lot of days I don't bother, especially if I don't need to leave the flat, and more so in Winter. The nightdress just becomes another handy layer, as I can't afford to put the heating on.
2. Feed myself: I eat TOO much, because it temporarily makes me feel better. Comfort eating (mostly nawty stuff), is the mother tucker of all big bellies. It also means I've put on all weight I lost in my last job, adding to the misery. Booo = saddy face.
3. I can clean myself: It makes me feel better. Admittedly, when seriously rock bottom, I can and sometimes do honestly forego ablutions. But eventually the itchiness + smelliness = merely adds to the 'uggh'.
4. I can travel: With distress if I don't know where I'm going, I tend to get lost, disorientated, and anxious during transit. Anxiety = palpitations, chest pains, upset stomach (and the other end), nausea, headaches, flushes. Plus if I didn't, worse still would happen for not attending that mandatory assessment you've requested that I SHOULD attend. Going out for a couple of hours is exhausting.
5. I can talk: No shit. I'm depressed, not verbally challenged, and pretty well educated with it. BUT on some days, I don't physically talk to anyone, for days on end, by choice. Why bother when so many don't understand what you're actually saying in regards to your depression, how you feel, or merely dismiss you & your words. Plus talking is very tiring.
When needed, I can often joke and utilise my sense of humour. Like a comedian... what are the statistics on comedians, actors, other smart peeps who suffer from depression I wonder? Covering up, masking up? Weighing up which is easier at the time - to 'pretend' all's well, or trying to explain to others who typically don't have a clue, how you really feel. Hmm...
6. I can make eye contact: I'm depressed, I'm not rude, nor Autistic (I don't think I'm on the spectrum).
7. I can pay bills: I'm depressed, not illiterate... and I'd be very accommodationly challenged otherwise, and I don't fancy sleeping on the streets.
8. I can use a phone: I'm depressed not technically challenged. Yes, I know how to use a phone, but choose not to, and cut myself off from the world when needed - which of late has been often. And if my phone rings with an unknown number, forget about it.
9. I can use a computer: Same as 8, and I come from an old skool, creative, technological background. But often social media is the only outside contact I might have for days with anyone else, so the computer can be my only lifeline.
10. I socialise twice a month: Party animal. Rwarrr. Umm yeh, but only with people I've known for years, in familiar surroundings, in areas I know. I can count my friends who I see on a regular basis on one hand - and they're all fully aware of my issues. New people, and sometimes even people I do know esp groups of, bring on the stress and anxiety.
Am I fit for work?
No. Not yet.
Anything that goes wrong, and I'm in pieces. I'm super emotional, and cry at any little thing.
Can I cry on demand. No. I'm not a faker.
I'm depressed, and emotionally raw, but I'm also a pro at hiding this pain through years of practise since a child. Currently my protective buffer of happy thoughts has been ground to zero, so anything negative dents me like a Bruce Lee punch.
Am I suicidal.
No. Semantics. As I wouldn't be too upset if today was my last day. I'm just not brave enough to do anything about it, and I often wonder if there's a point to all of this. Really, why am I bothering?
I would like to think I've suffered enough shit for a lifetime, but I guess that's all relative, and I know others would look at my story, and disagree. But then I know some others would also agree - enough is enough.
And yet the DWP (Department of Work & Pensions) deem me "fit for work."
To what cost to my health? Further breakdowns, pushing me to self harm, edging my thoughts to places I'd rather not go.
Do they care? No.
*Have I cried today = Yes.
*Have I slept > Nought to insomniac = Fitful.
*Have I exercised > Nought to Olympian = Yes. Level 1, minimum amount. As second belly is conspiring with first belly, meaning third belly's imminent.
*Anxiety level > Nought to butt explosive = rumbly tummy, semi solid.
*Level of worry > Nought to Armageddon = Oh fack. Oh shit!
*Dark thoughts > Nought to Da.Vader = Getting real gloomy.
That is all. As you were.
A new reason to start this old chestnut up - mental health. Ooo can I tag? #MentalHealth #EndTheStigma #Depression Hmmm? No, I can't.
Pull up a chair, bring your own coffee & biccies. :P
Why I struggle with the system that does not give a shit about mental health - unless of course, you want to harm yourself or harm someone else, then they 'might' take you a bit more seriously, but no guarantees.
Do I want to hurt myself? I didn't, but as events progress my thoughts do grow darker and darker toward not so nice stuffness.
Events that I won't go into of last year are still taking their toll, and I'm unable to lift from its fallout. I've had one prolonged period of counselling, as I find talk therapies much more helpful than medication, and yes I've tried the latter. One hopes that you find a good counsellor, who will listen, not judge, and make all the right noises in the pauses. I thought I did, but as the period with them came to a close, my mind did wonder. But then, that could be the beast of depression talking.
Since then I've come up against continuing battles, one of which has pushed me to restart this old bloggykins up. To air my grievances in a safe e-place. Safe-ish.
I blubbed all the way through my PIP (Acronym city here we come - Personal Independent Payment) assessment, and scored nothing, in towards a serious benefit to help those seriously disabled. No biggie, as I did not expect anything. But to cry through the whole medical assessment and score nothing, it really does make you wonder. I must declare that the nurse in this assessment did come across as a real human, unlike the next one.
Then on the ESA assessment (Employment Support Allowance - those unable to work at the current time), I only cried a bit, because the so-called nurse doing the assessment wasn't interested. Got a cold, blank, disinterested, woman, who wanted to get through the spiel as quick as possible. Wham, bam, I know all I need to know about your long term mental health issues, and your life problems in 30 minutes. Just like that.
So it comes down to: you can dress yourself, you can feed yourself, you can clean yourself, you can travel to here, you can talk for yourself, you can make eye contact, you can pay a bill, you can use a phone and computer = you are fit for work. Cheers. Bye.
So each one then - hey, I did say pull up a chair, maybe a sofa would be more suitable. Sorry.
1. Dress myself: On good days yes. On a lot of days I don't bother, especially if I don't need to leave the flat, and more so in Winter. The nightdress just becomes another handy layer, as I can't afford to put the heating on.
2. Feed myself: I eat TOO much, because it temporarily makes me feel better. Comfort eating (mostly nawty stuff), is the mother tucker of all big bellies. It also means I've put on all weight I lost in my last job, adding to the misery. Booo = saddy face.
3. I can clean myself: It makes me feel better. Admittedly, when seriously rock bottom, I can and sometimes do honestly forego ablutions. But eventually the itchiness + smelliness = merely adds to the 'uggh'.
4. I can travel: With distress if I don't know where I'm going, I tend to get lost, disorientated, and anxious during transit. Anxiety = palpitations, chest pains, upset stomach (and the other end), nausea, headaches, flushes. Plus if I didn't, worse still would happen for not attending that mandatory assessment you've requested that I SHOULD attend. Going out for a couple of hours is exhausting.
5. I can talk: No shit. I'm depressed, not verbally challenged, and pretty well educated with it. BUT on some days, I don't physically talk to anyone, for days on end, by choice. Why bother when so many don't understand what you're actually saying in regards to your depression, how you feel, or merely dismiss you & your words. Plus talking is very tiring.
When needed, I can often joke and utilise my sense of humour. Like a comedian... what are the statistics on comedians, actors, other smart peeps who suffer from depression I wonder? Covering up, masking up? Weighing up which is easier at the time - to 'pretend' all's well, or trying to explain to others who typically don't have a clue, how you really feel. Hmm...
6. I can make eye contact: I'm depressed, I'm not rude, nor Autistic (I don't think I'm on the spectrum).
7. I can pay bills: I'm depressed, not illiterate... and I'd be very accommodationly challenged otherwise, and I don't fancy sleeping on the streets.
8. I can use a phone: I'm depressed not technically challenged. Yes, I know how to use a phone, but choose not to, and cut myself off from the world when needed - which of late has been often. And if my phone rings with an unknown number, forget about it.
9. I can use a computer: Same as 8, and I come from an old skool, creative, technological background. But often social media is the only outside contact I might have for days with anyone else, so the computer can be my only lifeline.
10. I socialise twice a month: Party animal. Rwarrr. Umm yeh, but only with people I've known for years, in familiar surroundings, in areas I know. I can count my friends who I see on a regular basis on one hand - and they're all fully aware of my issues. New people, and sometimes even people I do know esp groups of, bring on the stress and anxiety.
Am I fit for work?
No. Not yet.
Anything that goes wrong, and I'm in pieces. I'm super emotional, and cry at any little thing.
Can I cry on demand. No. I'm not a faker.
I'm depressed, and emotionally raw, but I'm also a pro at hiding this pain through years of practise since a child. Currently my protective buffer of happy thoughts has been ground to zero, so anything negative dents me like a Bruce Lee punch.
Am I suicidal.
No. Semantics. As I wouldn't be too upset if today was my last day. I'm just not brave enough to do anything about it, and I often wonder if there's a point to all of this. Really, why am I bothering?
I would like to think I've suffered enough shit for a lifetime, but I guess that's all relative, and I know others would look at my story, and disagree. But then I know some others would also agree - enough is enough.
And yet the DWP (Department of Work & Pensions) deem me "fit for work."
To what cost to my health? Further breakdowns, pushing me to self harm, edging my thoughts to places I'd rather not go.
Do they care? No.
*Have I cried today = Yes.
*Have I slept > Nought to insomniac = Fitful.
*Have I exercised > Nought to Olympian = Yes. Level 1, minimum amount. As second belly is conspiring with first belly, meaning third belly's imminent.
*Anxiety level > Nought to butt explosive = rumbly tummy, semi solid.
*Level of worry > Nought to Armageddon = Oh fack. Oh shit!
*Dark thoughts > Nought to Da.Vader = Getting real gloomy.
That is all. As you were.
Saturday, 25 February 2012
Is it Easter yet?
Crikey. The usual apologies... have been busy doing nothing.
Hope you're all well and the signs of Spring are encouraging non-thermal behaviour.
=D
A weird year for me so far, nothing adventurous and a lottery win eludes me yet again.
Pfft.
But I have been drawing more this year - and hope to get back into the writing again. Now that I have loads of time, I have no excuse really. Except for my own lack of motivation and confidence. Lol.
Life goes on eh... luckily.
Enjoy your weekend!
Hope you're all well and the signs of Spring are encouraging non-thermal behaviour.
=D
A weird year for me so far, nothing adventurous and a lottery win eludes me yet again.
Pfft.
But I have been drawing more this year - and hope to get back into the writing again. Now that I have loads of time, I have no excuse really. Except for my own lack of motivation and confidence. Lol.
Life goes on eh... luckily.
Enjoy your weekend!
Saturday, 7 January 2012
Another year gone. Where did it go?
If anyone knows, please let me know... ta. :-)
Hope you all had a great Christmas and the new year is treating you well so far.
Not a great deal to tell you - since things are plodding on as they were in 2011. Not a bad thing in all. Just need to make some minor tweaks to improve the year. Fingers crossed the year will be relatively smooth, and soon enough it will be Christmas again. Always comes around quick.
:-D
Have a great week!
Warmst wishes,
Jacq.
Hope you all had a great Christmas and the new year is treating you well so far.
Not a great deal to tell you - since things are plodding on as they were in 2011. Not a bad thing in all. Just need to make some minor tweaks to improve the year. Fingers crossed the year will be relatively smooth, and soon enough it will be Christmas again. Always comes around quick.
:-D
Have a great week!
Warmst wishes,
Jacq.
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