Today I saw my therapist for what will apparently be the last time. I had intended to visit her at her other office, outside the community mental health center, and continue therapy, but she indicated to me today that she didn't think I should do this. She thought I should stay at the wretched community mental health center and see yet another therapist there. Again. I couldn't help but wonder why she wanted to leave me behind. I couldn't help but feel a little abandoned.
In the past year, my whole treatment team has left. Over a year ago, I had to stop therapy with my therapist of four years. I was able to continue seeing her for some months for free since the insurance wouldn't pay anymore, but then that ran out, and by the beginning of last year I had been without a therapist for some time. I had tried a new therapist who had left after my first appointment with her without so much as notifying me. And I had tried another therapist - a male - who I didn't hit it off with at all. And then I had given up on therapy. Then in December 2011, my nurse who gave me injections every two weeks for years left. Then I started with a new therapist. Then in May my fifth psychiatrist in seven years left. Then in December my case manager who I had for seven years spoken to every week left. And they closed my case and didn't give me a new case manager because I'm oh so much better now that I don't need one (or more to the point there's no money for one), and now my therapist has left. All that I have left at the mental health center is my new doctor.
My entire treatment team left me. More than once. It's hard not to feel abandoned in that situation. Here I am, fragile brain and all, holding it up asking, "Please, help?" and then they say they will help and then they leave.
The New Zealander abandoned me to move in with his ex girlfriend and decide to just be my friend. .I know he doesn't see it that way, but I do. I was happy in a romance months ago, and now that's dead and gone.
Technically, I have a boyfriend now. He is a guy I haven't actually met yet though. I know him online and through the phone. He also has Schizoaffective Disorder and lives in Florida. He seems nice, if maybe a little unstable much like myself. We talk a lot now. He sends me texts. He calls me and I don't know if it will ever amount to anything, but I know it's better than feeling like I'm dead all alone all the time.
The negative symptoms are killing me. I do indeed feel quite dead. I have no motivation. I'm behind on all my college work. I have read none of my textbooks, and I have not studied. I don't know how I will pull good grades out of a hat at this rate.
Because my apartment really needed help due to my avolition and apathy, I hired my friend to help me, and she did a great deal of work here the other day for very little money considering the time she spent here. She spent four hours just cleaning my bathroom. And another four hours cleaning the living room and the kitchen. I did laundry and took out trash and folded clothes, and tried to put things away. The place looks a lot better now - except for the bedroom which isn't done yet. My case manager from the housing agency came today and said it looks great, which is good.
I will be having my friend come out every two weeks now for a while to help me. I simply can't manage to keep house on my own, so as I know that this is a common problem for people with the disorder I have and with other mental illnesses, I am no longer going to live in denial about it. I am going to face it and deal with it.
In the meantime, I am lonely. I feel rather lost. But I'll go on. That's what we all do.