CBT - Session 1

Well, technically it's session 5 or 6, but I had the others before the Christmas incident, so it feels a bit like I'm starting again.


Today was just a catch up session. I was really nervous and as such forgot to breathe when I was talking - a bit of verbal diarrhoea, I think! ::)


It wasn't too bad. He let me off a bit by not asking the probing questions he usually does, and it really was just a "getting to know you" session all over again. We went over the past few months (which have been pretty rubbish) and he talked about the plan he has for the following sessions. He also said that, rather than having a definite 24 sessions, he's willing to have it so we could have an extra couple if they were needed. I don't know how I feel about that.


Aaanyway. I spent some of the session talking about my fear of failing. Fear of failing the CBT guy and fear of failing myself. I feel like if I'm not fixed after this round of therapy, then I'll have done something wrong. CBT guy said that that's not how it works, and that with a "relapsing illness" being fixed completely isn't 100% realistic, at least not with medication being as it is at the moment (i.e. a bit hit and miss).


For next session, I'm supposed to write about what recovery means to me. Well, I've already written that here, so I'll just copy and paste and add a bit.

Ah, yes.

I have spent the majority of the day hiding under my duvet. A wholly unproductive use of my time and I shall probably berate myself for it for the next few days.





I did pop into town to pay some money into the bank (so I don't go into my non-existant overdraft), but that is it.





I wrote about capability in my last blog post, and how I feel I'm more capable that the professionals believe. Today I'm having a "the professionals are right" day. I am incapable in so many ways. Some days, I don't eat/wash/sleep/move. - what kind of person does that? A useless one. ::)

Recovery?

(Disclaimer: I'm not always this bitter)


What is recovery?


For me, recovery is just feeling ok. To feel ok and like I have some worth, I need to have the following things in place:

• Independent living (as in, living away from the parents' house)
• Employment
• Discharge from the CMHT
• Medication-freeness

Now, I've got the first one sorted, and I have the second one half sorted (providing that my employer decided that I am not dangerous). It's just the other ones I need to work on...

Now, possible? I think not.

1. Mr Psychiatrist has decided that the drugs are a life-long thing (schizoaffective disorder doesn't just go away, apparently).
2. Mr GP won't prescribe the wonder-drug that Mr Psychiatrist has intiatied. Initially he said until I had reached three months of stability, but he's now retracted that statement and has said that he won't prescribe it at all until prescribing advice for the drug has changed. That means staying under secondary care so I can get the things prescribed.
3. They have a habit of locking me away if I don't take the drugs, so I can't just disengage. Christmas 2009 was spent on a locked ward and that is not an experience I wish to repeat.
4. Mr Psychiatrist won't write me a favourable medical report when I try to go for full-time employment. Part-time is fine, apparently, but my brain can't cope with more. Bollocks.

Now, if we take into consideration that my psychiatrist is a locum that only sees me if they've incarcerated me or my CPN deems it necessary (i.e. when she thinks the disorder (as they call it) is winning and I am losing), it all seems very stupid. What about those times when I'm alright? When things are good and when I'm capable of functioning to a very high level? The head folk seem to miss those times, yet they're the one's that suggest I need the CBT to challenge my negative thinking patterns. Okay then...

They harp on about recovery, which would work (for me) if I was allowed to get on with that recovery. As it is, I'm hampered by the very people who're trying to help (or so they say).

Money!

Think I've found a way to cover things for this month. I have a savings box at my Nan's (which, in my panic, I had forgotten about ) - it didn't have much in it, but had enough to cover the direct debits, so I've taken that and I can pay it into my bank tomorrow. As it's cash (I hope) it'll go into the bank straight away so I'll be sorted and won't get any bank charges or be in arrears or anything.


Food's a secondary issue; I've got enough in the freezer to last me a couple of weeks and I'll sort something after that. Maybe the ESA will be through by then, with a bit back dated, so I'll be able to buy some more.


If I can't manage phonecalls and money and other things myself, how on earth do I expect to be able to support other people? I spent all yesterday in bed, and have spent today sat at my Nan's drinking tea and ignoring my phone because I didn't/don't want to talk to anyone. Fool. I kid myself that everything's great and I'm ok and wonderful, and things are much better than they were, but even CPN said that I'm not quite back on track yet. Apparently it's normal, and all part of "recovery," but I'm fed up of recovery - I've been recovering for the past three years. I want to be recovered. Blimey, I should have managed that by now - it's not all that difficult just to be ordinary, and, you know, do ordinary things - work, go food shopping, make phone calls, engage with people. As it is, I suck at all that.


God, I really am so stupid sometimes. Ever get that feeling that you're just not cut out to be a fully functioning human being?

Ooo.

Ooo. I have a blog.