Different

…and I’m still reeling. It may sound odd but it’s still such a shock, that I’m properly mentally ill. It was a week ago that I saw some blood results that popped the bubble of my health-related (partially based in reality as all good delusions are) fantasy that had consumed me for over a week, the cumulative result of an intense period of stress, little sleep for 8 weeks, a surprise pregnancy that I still hadn’t fully come to terms with, an unpleasant autoimmune attack on my body, a viral infection and a course of steroids. It kind of makes sense that I went completely loopy, but it doesn’t make it any easier, and I’m still in the place where although I’m not delusional any more, I don’t 100% know what’s real and what’s not, am still hallucinating every so often, losing time, imagining conversations I’ve not had and forgetting ones that I have had. It’s a terrifying place to live, to not be able to trust my own judgement, decision making or my interpretation of the world, to pick apart the last 30 years of my life and try to work out what was reality and what was fantasy. It’s confusing and scary to wonder how much of my character is down to mental illness and how much of it is just quirkiness, and to wonder if any of the things that I actually like about myself will disappear as the medication calms down the craziness.

Talking of medication, that’s a weird place to be too. Never in my life did I think I’d be put on atypical antipsychotics. Looking back to when I did my mental health placements, I remember learning about them in detail, the risks, the side effects, the potentially irreversible long term complications. And in pregnancy? I never EVER thought I’d have to make that risk/benefit judgement call, and that if I did I would think it’s the right thing to be medicated while pregnant. This is very very strange, and like so many things over the last six years is one of those horrible forced choices that devastate me and make me feel so powerless again. Yet I’m (we are) probably doing the right thing for our son, and his safety depends on my safety, and I was not safe unmedicated. And actually although I think she made some stupid decisions (especially re. pain relief) and some stupid assumptions (the farcical “magnesium obsession” incident), I think my psychiatrist is actually very good and knows what she’s talking about, which is a huge relief, athough I wish she’d take my concerns about SSRIs seriously sooner rather than later. It’s having patience that’s the hardest thing, and living with the most uncertainty I’ve ever had to deal with in my whole life. And trying to trust God that there is a plan in all of this, and we’ve not just been abandoned (which I don’t really feel, it would just be easy to look at it that way). I’m acutely aware of how hard this is for my family, and my extended family and friends, how much better it would be if I was at home with Peter and the girls. Yet I’m not well enough to be so, and it’s totally heartbreaking, even though the kids seem to be doing great. I am just sad that Peter has to carry so much when we normally make such a great team. I think that’s the nature of marriage though, sometimes you walk together, sometimes one carries the other and vice-versa. I’m just incredibly grateful that God has given me a wonderful man with very strong shoulders, although I don’t think he feels strong at the moment, so if you see him, be kind.

I’m very tired, and feel dreadful physically today although am mentally on a more even keel. The ward is freaking me out a bit as there are a lot more patients back from leave and the lady opposite me has come back obviously very unwell and needing to be specialled. Back to my mild paranoia about other patients getting in my bed in the night! No more energy to write, but hope you’re all enjoying some time off over Christmas, and looking forward to 2013, which I hope will be a better year for all of us,

Thanks for reading,

Jen xx

~ by jennkeast on December 27, 2012.

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