This is the start of my third week back at work. Hence; this is the third Monday in a row I have been in work, hence this is also the third Monday in a row I have failed to attend group psychotherapy; which; in theory, means I will have been thrown out of the group.
When I was offered a place in the group, prior to accepting it I discussed it my manager who was overwhelmingly accommodating; allowing me every Monday off for the next year. But remember at that time, I was off sick [due to this ongoing hand saga] and both me and my manager were assuming that when I returned to work it would be on my normal shift pattern, giving me a 7 day working week in which to put 5 shifts; so blanking out Monday was possible.
But in the event I have returned in this non-clinical capacity, whereby my hours are Mon-Fri 8-4 so unless I want to drop down to 4 days a week (which would decrease my pay by 20%) I have to be in work on Mondays. I don’t see a way around it. I can’t come in on the weekend (don’t mind working one day at the weekend even though I know they can only pay me as if it were a week day, in order to get Mondays off) because this office area of the hospital where I am based at the moment is locked at the weekend and for security reasons I’m not allowed swipe card access
I know that what I should do/have done was to gently remind my manager about my Monday situation. But I was so pleased about being allowed to come back to work that I didn’t want to rock the boat, as it were. I’m think she’d be horrified if she knew I had now been excluded from the group. She was the one who said my mental health was of the upmost importance and hence it was vital I attend. I can totally see where she’s coming from; like; your health is your health, right? But work? Well at the end of the day its just a job.
In the past, especially when I was working on the ward, I failed to recognize that, and returning to work prevailed over everything else. All that time I spent in hospital, I never really got down the the nitty gritty of what precisely was distressing me, why I had engaged I self destructive behaviours; what was motivating me to try and end my life. I spent the entire time stressing about not being at work, and fighting to get back into work. I wonder if it was just a subconscious distraction technique, an “I don’t want to deal with the real issue at hand so I’ll put all my energy into this instead” type scenario.
But I have chillaxed about work a lot since then. It’s not the be all and end all, although it is important to me. I think there are two reasons why I have allowed myself to disengage from the group therapy: one, because the logistical particulars aren’t in my favour, as explained above; and two, because I’m kind of of the opinion that I am too well to be in the group anyway. Let me try to explain:
As I am well aware, the way my mentalness works is that I am fine for ages, a fairly long period of time, say 4—7 months, can pass by without incident. I’ve not been unwell since late August, so I am bumbling along on my 60mg of Prozac, and doing very well, I think. Appropriate time for my next confession: I’ve never actually taken quetiapine: I get my repeat prescription from the GP at appropriate intervals so it looks like I am taking it; and then have a secretive bathroom session of putting them into a sandwich bag, stamping on it repeatedly; and then throwing the crunched up tablet fragments down the sink. I worry about poising the fish to an extent, but continue to engage in this behaviour.
I don’t take it because I don’t think I need it. When it was first prescribed for me, in that whole messy episode where I had the crisis team coming round to see me, I had my doubts then. I knew I wasn’t well, that it wasn’t normal to be having the thoughts I was, but I didn’t believe I was psychotic. I read what other people said about it in their blogs, and I pretended to have started on my 100mg a day, but in truth I was scared of taking it for fear of being super drowsy all the time. I would rather be tired from insomnia that drowsy from medication designed to knock me out.
Four months down the line, here I am, fine and dandy, minus any anti-psychotics thankyou very much. I’m not brainless, I know that at some point I will have another depressive episode which will most likely lead to me being off work for a bit and possible taking an OD and instantly regretting it and going to cas. But I don’t think that a pill is going to prevent that.
I was the only member of the group who was working. All the others were on long term sick or disability living allowance. They were unable to function at a level that involved getting up every day and hauling ass to work. I was the only member of the group not on multiple medications. I found it difficult to relate to the other group members, and found myself quite often wondering why I was there at all. I reasoned that it was worth sticking with it because when my next episode came along, that’s when I would need the group.
In theory we were all there because we all had a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. I have always disagreed with this, but since in this instance it was enabling me to access the group, for once in my life I just went along with it. Only in the event have become more convinced that in fact I do not have this particular illness. I realised that, despite the fact I sometimes think I am a total headcase; relatively I am pretty damn sane. I know my reaction/response to stressful events isn’t healthy; quite the opposite in fact, its ludicrously over the top, destructive to my wellbeing, and I need to learn to calm it down. I know I have serious food/weight issues [which I really need to talk about but I am continuing to put it off, because once it is in print on the blog, it is real] But I gain pleasure from spending time with friends and family, I have hobbies and interests, I make plans. I do not see my future in terms of doom and gloom.
So for now I’m quite happy to sit back and see what happens. Having re-read this; I do think I need to tell DrF and my GP’s about the quetiapine though.
When I was offered a place in the group, prior to accepting it I discussed it my manager who was overwhelmingly accommodating; allowing me every Monday off for the next year. But remember at that time, I was off sick [due to this ongoing hand saga] and both me and my manager were assuming that when I returned to work it would be on my normal shift pattern, giving me a 7 day working week in which to put 5 shifts; so blanking out Monday was possible.
But in the event I have returned in this non-clinical capacity, whereby my hours are Mon-Fri 8-4 so unless I want to drop down to 4 days a week (which would decrease my pay by 20%) I have to be in work on Mondays. I don’t see a way around it. I can’t come in on the weekend (don’t mind working one day at the weekend even though I know they can only pay me as if it were a week day, in order to get Mondays off) because this office area of the hospital where I am based at the moment is locked at the weekend and for security reasons I’m not allowed swipe card access
I know that what I should do/have done was to gently remind my manager about my Monday situation. But I was so pleased about being allowed to come back to work that I didn’t want to rock the boat, as it were. I’m think she’d be horrified if she knew I had now been excluded from the group. She was the one who said my mental health was of the upmost importance and hence it was vital I attend. I can totally see where she’s coming from; like; your health is your health, right? But work? Well at the end of the day its just a job.
In the past, especially when I was working on the ward, I failed to recognize that, and returning to work prevailed over everything else. All that time I spent in hospital, I never really got down the the nitty gritty of what precisely was distressing me, why I had engaged I self destructive behaviours; what was motivating me to try and end my life. I spent the entire time stressing about not being at work, and fighting to get back into work. I wonder if it was just a subconscious distraction technique, an “I don’t want to deal with the real issue at hand so I’ll put all my energy into this instead” type scenario.
But I have chillaxed about work a lot since then. It’s not the be all and end all, although it is important to me. I think there are two reasons why I have allowed myself to disengage from the group therapy: one, because the logistical particulars aren’t in my favour, as explained above; and two, because I’m kind of of the opinion that I am too well to be in the group anyway. Let me try to explain:
As I am well aware, the way my mentalness works is that I am fine for ages, a fairly long period of time, say 4—7 months, can pass by without incident. I’ve not been unwell since late August, so I am bumbling along on my 60mg of Prozac, and doing very well, I think. Appropriate time for my next confession: I’ve never actually taken quetiapine: I get my repeat prescription from the GP at appropriate intervals so it looks like I am taking it; and then have a secretive bathroom session of putting them into a sandwich bag, stamping on it repeatedly; and then throwing the crunched up tablet fragments down the sink. I worry about poising the fish to an extent, but continue to engage in this behaviour.
I don’t take it because I don’t think I need it. When it was first prescribed for me, in that whole messy episode where I had the crisis team coming round to see me, I had my doubts then. I knew I wasn’t well, that it wasn’t normal to be having the thoughts I was, but I didn’t believe I was psychotic. I read what other people said about it in their blogs, and I pretended to have started on my 100mg a day, but in truth I was scared of taking it for fear of being super drowsy all the time. I would rather be tired from insomnia that drowsy from medication designed to knock me out.
Four months down the line, here I am, fine and dandy, minus any anti-psychotics thankyou very much. I’m not brainless, I know that at some point I will have another depressive episode which will most likely lead to me being off work for a bit and possible taking an OD and instantly regretting it and going to cas. But I don’t think that a pill is going to prevent that.
I was the only member of the group who was working. All the others were on long term sick or disability living allowance. They were unable to function at a level that involved getting up every day and hauling ass to work. I was the only member of the group not on multiple medications. I found it difficult to relate to the other group members, and found myself quite often wondering why I was there at all. I reasoned that it was worth sticking with it because when my next episode came along, that’s when I would need the group.
In theory we were all there because we all had a diagnosis of borderline personality disorder. I have always disagreed with this, but since in this instance it was enabling me to access the group, for once in my life I just went along with it. Only in the event have become more convinced that in fact I do not have this particular illness. I realised that, despite the fact I sometimes think I am a total headcase; relatively I am pretty damn sane. I know my reaction/response to stressful events isn’t healthy; quite the opposite in fact, its ludicrously over the top, destructive to my wellbeing, and I need to learn to calm it down. I know I have serious food/weight issues [which I really need to talk about but I am continuing to put it off, because once it is in print on the blog, it is real] But I gain pleasure from spending time with friends and family, I have hobbies and interests, I make plans. I do not see my future in terms of doom and gloom.
So for now I’m quite happy to sit back and see what happens. Having re-read this; I do think I need to tell DrF and my GP’s about the quetiapine though.