(Or: At Home – Day Twenty-Six)
I woke up today and called my care co-ordinator (who, for those of you new to the blog, is an honest-to-god angel and, without a doubt, the best person involved in my mental health care throughout my entire life thus far) – and spoke about the “I’m gaining weight still this isn’t fair” problem.
Her immediate response: “I completely understand, we’ll sort it out. I’ll have a work with the consultant psychiatrist, and we’ll go from there”. I’m now reducing my quetiapine (seroquel, for those who go by brand names) which is, for those who don’t know, absolutely notorious for weight gain. Genuinely, google it. I’m in the position of having gained 40lbs (nearly 20kg, in metric) over the last two years since starting quetiapine, and have never managed to shift it. I’m also taking 800mg of the stuff, which is the highest possible dose, so it’s probably not surprising…
I’m seeing said care co-ordinator in person tomorrow, and am going to discuss it in more detail. However, it makes a nice change from my usual battles with the NHS, and goes to show how much difference a single person can make in a person’s entire holistic mental health care.
Saw my grandmother today. She has just been diagnosed with cancer, for the second time. Pending further tests, remaining quietly optimistic that it might be treatable, but it’s difficult. My grandfather is palpably struggling with everything (and he has congenital heart failure to contend with, too, so is also in and out of hospital). Wish I could be more help, but as my brain is doing its level best to kill me, I’m a tad useless.
Final thing: I have the best friends ever. Ever. Several have clubbed together to get me a new laptop, completely out of the blue, because my current can’t Skype (or do very much, really…) and in their words, should I go inpatient, I’ll need a laptop to Skype them and stay in touch. It got delivered today, and I had no idea (other than suspicions, because bless her, my partner is occasionally subtle as a flying mallet, which I’m grateful for, because if it had been a complete shock, it would probably have finished me off). I cried. It’s wonderful.
So despite a day of mood erraticisms and some difficult circumstances, I’m finishing today feeling exceptionally bolstered by other people. I often forget that I’m really not alone. Mental health can be a lonely business (you spend a lot of time talking to yourself and wondering what constitutes a ‘delusion’, amongst other things) but today, a lot of people in a lot of places have shown me how to be strong, optimistic, loving, surprising, efficient, thoughtful, persistent, dependable, honest, trustworthy. And I owe it to them to keep fighting back, because god knows they’re fighting for me. So I’m trying. Whether it works or not, I’m trying.