Just seem to be floating in limbo at the moment. This week I coped with:
Monday: A terrible reaction against my antidepressant medication - I became too ill to get to my counselling session in the afternoon and thenI blacked out overnight with terrible migraines, nausea, vomiting and only came to in the morning. I have no one to call when something like that happens except a rather unpredictable neighbour. I called her when the headache became a migraine but it was 11.45pm and no one answered the phone. Called NHS Direct, told the nurse and a Harmoni doctor called me back. Said I had to go straight to the GP in the morning.
Tuesday: Got myself past a dragon of a GP's receptionist breathing fire and into the consulting room. GP told me, unsurprisingly, to stop the medication. Looks like it's meditation not medication from now on. Don't say I told you so. I was initially very unwilling to take any antidepressants, I think I had an inkling what might happen. Migraine continued through the day and evening. I've never had migraines in my life before.
Wednesday: Saw a solicitor about the landlord wanting me to leave.
Thursday: Went to yoga class and for obligatory jobsearch interview at the Jobcentre. The lady kept asking me what I thought was stopping me working. I said: Nothing. Except perhaps, feeling so fragmented I don't know who I am any more. They wanted me to take work in a shop to get me out into the world. I get the feeling I'd get so flustered by having to work a till it would be immediate firing after the hiring. I wasn't the best till operator in the world before all this happened! We had a look for some of the journalism/PR/communications positions I might be eligible for, but none came up. Odd. There were loads when I last did a Jobcentre search.
Friday: Due to see the NHS psychiatrist who wants to discharge me. She hasn't seen the state of the house and garden since Mum died. GP suggested I take pictures of it to show her. GP oddly sympathetic after a long period of being rather stern.
There now seems to be a team of people all committed to the Rehabilitation of Me. I'm grateful to them. I wish I could function the way I did before all this happened, but that's not the way it seems to work at the moment.
Continuing to write - reviews (unpaid) for music promotions website and on Facebook and Twitter - to keep my hand in, as I told the Jobcentre lady. In actual fact, I think it's keeping me alive. Also starting to write comedy standup material though I don't know how long I can keep that up as the housing situation gets more serious. Actually, maybe it works the other way round: the comedy standup material might get me through the housing, and other, crises. Not to mention the rock n' roll. Just hope I don't get mixed up with too many naughty men! Or is that I wish I could get mixed up with lots of naughty men? Is cavorting with naughty men therapeutic?
