Talking about having a mental illness

I'm getting paid to talk to school groups about what it's been like for me having a mental illness. Secondary school kids who are studying psychology pretty much. I've done two talks; so far so good. The kids have been attentive and some ask insightful questions afterwards. Things like Did Art Therapy help you when you were sick and what would happen if you didn't take your medication. I guess it's a good thing to be able to share with schoolkids about what it feels like to be unwell and to be well; helps debunk some myths hopefully.

I spend a fair bit of time talking about what its like being in hospital and also what was running through my head when I was sick. I'm careful to balance that with how I think when I'm well.

So far, so good; hopefully I can keep doing this regularly and not ever have to go back to soul-destroying office work.

Domestic happiness

Am settling in well with my 1 year old dog from the animal shelter; Flossy. Have just about mastered toilet training (it's me with any errors, not her), but have a few behavioural issues to get over, such as her barking when I leave her alone and also carrying on when I eat. Am going to the animal trainer today so we'll see how things pan out. 

 Had an interview to be on a committee of mental health consumers who do a monthly review of drug and alcohol services for dual diagnosis people in my region. They said I'll hear from them soon. They said the committee is monitored by the department of Human Services (State govt body) so it has some 'teeth'. Will look good on the resume anyway, if not a learning and contributing experience. 

 Last week I had an interview for a temp job with the ABS (Australian Bureau of Statistics) to be a data collector for the upcoming 6 yearly census. It's more data entry type work, which while not thrilling would help financially. Will hear from them in upcoming weeks hopefully. The job was to be 5 days a week for 5 hours a day, which would be taxing for me as it is an hour-long train trip to the city for me, making it over a 7 hour day. I requested in my interview to hav ea 16 hour week; whether that's possible I don't know. We'll see. 

 Got a referral to a drop in group for psych illness-affected people who do many walking activities, cooking classes, go out for coffees etc. Have had appointment s the past week or so which have precluded me from participating but hope to join in soon and meet some new people. Have been pretty isolated socially for some time now; have been preoccupied with my dog lately but still need some sort of ppl interaction. Otherwise have been relatively content; it makes a big difference not to be stressed out about an unhappy workplace.

Got me a doggett

Last Tuesday I adopted a dog from the pound. She is a 1 year old terrier/spaniel/shi tzu mix; caramel coloured; mischevous as a monkey and totally adorable. I am in love. 

Am still out of work, although have done some training to do public speaking engagements on behalf of the mental illness fellowship about what it's like to have a mental illness. Will be speaking to schools, community groups and university students. I can't make a living out of it, despite being well paid ($32 an hour); i would be doing a 2 hour talk per month max. So the hunt for work goes on. 

 Back to Flossie; yes that's the dog's name. That's what the pound named her and it suits her. Am trying to toilet train her with minor success. She gets separation anxiety; tends to follow me like a shadow, so am trying to restrict her access to certain areas, which is met with much crying and barking (ie: when I leave a room and shut her in). I have a secure backyard but tend to leave her in the laundry if I go out, just for these early stages. She likes to chew sticks and I have visions of her lodging one in the roof of her mouth. I know it sounds worrywart, but she's the 1st dog I've ever owned; I'm on a steep learning curve. 

 The pound offers post-adoptive training for $30 an hour which I think i will need. A downside is that she is a longhaired breed, which will need grooming. I tried brushing her, but have to get her when she's subdued; she tends to want to eat the brush! She had her dewclaws removed, along with being spayed hence is wearing an elizabethan collar to stop her chewing her stitches. Her stitches come out this Thursday. 

 She sleeps on my bed; the only way I manage to fall asleep is by having a few beers prior to bed. She makes sounds when she dreams; muffled 'wuff' and growls softly. Otherwise she nestles into my side. I'm allowing myself to drink temporarily, as I get stressed about having a new creature in my home that I have to supervise and pay attention to. Sounds alien of me to say that when dealing with a cute bundle of fluffy doggie fun, but that's the truth. The 1st day I was very stressed; I wanted a valium. I thought of ringing my Doc to get a PRN of valium, but was afraid he'd say no or (worse) that he'd say having a dog wasn't good for my mental health.

Unemployment sux

HHmmmm....what to do??? Here's the avg routine...get up 9.30; have a coffee and 2 fags while listening to talkback radio; make a 2nd coffee and turn on the computer and have 2 more fags. Browse email, Facebook and the newspaper. 10.30-ish have a shower. 10.45 breakfast. 11ish send my friend who has no landline a text then hop onto Facebook and chat to her for an hour or so. 12.30 put a museli bar in my bag and go out to a 1pm AA meeting. 3-3.30pm home again. Try phoning one or two people. Back on the net. Check the nightly television schedule. Investigate possible courses I can enrol in for some career development. Still a bit baffled as to what sort of job to apply for. One that pays, yes, I know. One that gets me off the couch and into society; that too. There's volunteer work which I'm waiting to get a response about. I'm not working in an op-shop, or doing meals on wheels. Maybe I could volunteer on the help lines at the agency who helps me look for work. Yes maybe that's a start.

Hmm....I got distracted from telling about my yawnsome routine. Not much more to tell really. Eat dinner, watch telly, go to bed. Sigh. NEEDS A JOB, I DO!!!!!!

slowwwing down, slowing down

Fark!!! I got a bit hypomanic in patches over the past 48 hours. I didn't realise how kooked up I'd been till I went out to a meeting yesterday and ended up being very verbose, yammering away at a poor lady who probably just wanted to escape. I think I know now how many elderly folk feel; at home alone (sans computer skills) maybe listening to the radio or watching telly, stroking a cat or dog if they're lucky, missing their deceased partner, their busy adult kids, their busy grandkids etc. Unlike an elderly person in the picture I've painted, I have a computer (which I've been using massively), I can walk a few km's to get the paper which my eyesight allows me to see, I can get in my car and go places, my body isn't racked with arthritis or other ailments. I have a lot of good fortune really. However for whatever reason my instinct wants me to stay indoors and prowl around like a cat, staring out the window at the passing traffic and curl up on the couch in front of the gas heater. Isolating, eating, smoking etc. Then I start to get very stir-crazy (as would anyone), so much so that when I eventually have human contact I want talk. And talk. And TALK. Just the way my gran would when she was still alive, bless her soul. So yesterday I was particularly talkative, both in 3-D then later at home in chat on Facebook. I ended up staying up late, which wasn't showing much commonsense as I had an early appointment today. Hence now, late afternoon, I am weary, but thankfully, have slowed down. It's now 4.30pm and the air has turned very cool. Time to shut the doors and stop airing out the smoke, which had begun to constitute a stench. My folks are dropping by Friday; I'm guessing they want to check that I'm looking after myself and my surroundings ok. And to snoop for evidence that I'm drinking, which I'm not. Sometimes I tell myself that's about the best thing I can say about myself today: I didn't drink. I'm bored out of my fucking mind being unemployed!!!!!!!!!!!

Telly, the gas heater and isolating

Hibernation, I believe is the correct phrase to surmise this title. Chuck in a bit of low-lying depression, some sleep apnoea and feeling unmotivated, and that's my basic portrait from the past week or so.

It's hit home that I can't spend money like I used to when working; I've been budgeting like a ferret-nosed bookish accountant. Today I bought groceries and stuck to my list looking for the 'on-special stuff' at Coles, like a 2kg unwashed bag of spuds for $2.50 and a medium sized fresh chook for $6.30. I'm going to chop the chook in half and roast it with spuds and pumpkin tonight; that should do 2 meals. I'll freeze the other chook half. So it's not all bad being frugal, foodwise at least.

I can see why lower socio-economic groups tend to have obesity problems; if you only have an extra $50 in your weekly budget it goes farther on food than on other items. I can feel like I'm spoiling myself by doing as I did today and allowing myself a couple of things that weren't on my list, like peanut M&M's and a chocolate milk. The $7.50 I spent on these things won't do my waistline etc. any favours, but what can I buy for that amount as a treat for myself? I guess I could go to the $2 shop and get some sort of knick-knack. I could go to the op-shop and hope to find a jumper or some piece of clothing that hasn't lost its shape or gotten little 'balls' on it from friction. I could find a second hand book on Amazon easily, but the shipping cost (around $15 per book to Australia) would bump it up.

In the end I bought the daily newspaper, which is always more satisfying (to me) to read than the online versions. Call me a creature of habit, but I infinitely prefer a real paper or book than e-papers or e-books. Doesn't hurt your eyes as much. Plus the feel of the paper in your fingers. Anyway I digress.

I booked my car in for a service this Friday, which will be around $100. My mobile mechanic Dan is an honest and reliable man, who doesn't charge the way most mechanics do (avg. would be at least double that).

Otherwise it's been a case of watching DVD's and telly, which can be ok, although you get a bit bored with it. The ads drive me spare. I don't feel motivated to do any screenplay writing at present. I forced myself to go out for a walk today and will do so again tomorrow, along with doing an AA meeting. Wednesday I see my psychiatrist and break the news that I am not working. He will not be pleased. What's done is done; I can't go back to work now, I need time.

Too much time, not enough $$$$

So it's nearly two weeks ago that I resigned from work. Things are ok, if a bit slow. I've gone through my last pay check like it was water; last week I told myself the $600 or so dollars I had in my account would go towards having my car serviced and going for a dental checkup. Now there's only about a hundred. I get paid this week, my final payout, which won't be huge but it will be the most I'll see for a while. I'm fortunate to have the disability pension to fall back on (with a schizoaffective diagnosis I have been deemed a legitimate recipient by all my psychiatrists, who have said that all I can manage is part time work; when I am employed I receive a part pension, not much but better than nothing). I don't intend on being unemployed long, but need to work on my workplace fears as previously mentioned.

I saw my psychologist today in a bid to work through this very thing; I also saw my D&A counsellor earlier today. The D&A lady said I need to Notice my thoughts regarding social interaction and feelings of fear and insecurity and then to Challenge them. She pointed out that the few people I have problems with (eg: when I was at work I had the bully, in AA there's a rough woman who is always rude to me) could well create problems for others too; to not view myself as an isolated case. She mentioned a heap of other stuff too which I've forgotten; I wish I could tape our sessions; she's like Yoda to me. Might have to take notes next time. She picked up that I was not in a good frame of mind in our last session and out of concern rang my psychiatrist in case I self harmed. I wrote myself off with alcohol that day, like totally, but didn't take my pills. My angst was with work. Then I had the Easter break then I quit. But anyway.

The clinical psychologist is a younger woman but has a very logical head on her shoulders. She works from her head more than the D&A lady, who tends to use intuition, experience and gut. I respect both of them, they just have a different approach. She was happy that I am nearly 3 weeks sober. Itold her I'd also been walking and going to AA, that these gave me some structure. They were up until late last week: since Sunday I have neither walked nor been at a meeting. Autumn is morphing into an early winter here; this morning it was around zero degrees Celsius in my suburb....very hard to get out of a warm bed and go walking. It's also been pretty foggy lately too.

Excuses excuses. The past week or so I have been out shopping and have spent over $500. I'm not elevated: if I were I'd be up at the crack of dawn, doing heaps of housework, emailing a million people etc etc. That hasn't happened. I suspect the expenditure has been a bit of denial on my behalf about being unemployed and having to curb my budget. Like it's been 'one last splurge' just for the hell of it. The scary thing is how easy it is to spend up on stuff you don't really need, like cheap DVD's, warm tracksuit pants (ok, I did need these and they only cost $9.99 at Dimmey's), a new grey hoodie (meant to inspire me to go out and huff 'n' puff up hills like Rocky Balboa), lunches out, coffees out etc etc.

Today at Eastland shopping centre I was killing time between appointments. A hawker with a stall stopped me to ask what face cream I used. Before I knew it, this charming well-groomed young man had me rubbing my hands over a basin using "Israeli Sea Salt" from the dead sea (purportedly). He used a spray bottle of water on my hands for me to rinse, and they felt incredibly smooth. He then put on some lovely smelling moisturiser and proceeded to tell me that normally the exfoliator ('a year's supply worth')would be $100, the moisturiser $50, but he would be happy to sell me the two for $120. I looked him in the eye and told him I'd just quit work a week or so ago. He came in close and lowered his voice and said "in that case...I can give you the exfoliator for only $50, but you must (motions to his lips) zip it and keep the price to yourself". I had a fifty dollar note burning a hole in my wallet, my last before payday this Thursday. Before I could tell myself You Don't Need This, I whipped out the wallet and smiled "ok", feeling demure, attended to and satisfied. Silly old me!!! The stuff was probably only worth half that!!! AARRGH!! A sucker for a good looking young man with a European accent. And I'm fucking gay!!! That guy must make a killing, clever fella.

Wonder how he goes picking up the chickybabes in the nightclubs??