Butterflies

It turned out we didn't need the iPhone to get the pictures off of my boyfriends camera. One of the pictures is of a butterfly that landed in my hair and stayed there for about ten minutes. It was really cool. The other pic was another butterfly in the museum.

The butterfly exhibit was my favorite part of the Museum of Natural History. The following day we went to the Metropolitan Museum of Art. I was happy that I got to see the Claude Monet paintings there. The Met is a huge place- easy to get lost in and you could spend days there.
I am feeling pretty sad that Jeanne is leaving. Hopefully things will work out with another therapist.

Good News and Bad News...

So, I have good news and bad news. Before I get into that, I will say that I had a nice trip to NYC and will write about it when I find out if I can get some pictures that my boyfriend took on his phone. He knows someone with an iPhone, so there might be a way I can have them e-mailed to me.

The good news arrived in my mailbox today. I got the results from the state civil service exam I took back in November. My test score was a 95 out of 100. This means that I am probably near the top of the list for interview appointments.

The bad news arrived on the telephone today with my therapist Jeanne. She is leaving her practice in my county, and is not getting another office. She will work full-time in Queens and that is a very far trip for me. It is not practical. She is trying to refer me to someone else, but most of the contacts she has are far away from me. She broke the news to me about half-way through the session.

I was discussing my life with Jeanne on the phone today and she said (not the first time she's said) that I need to make more friends. My best friend isn't really much of a friend anymore and my sister is not around lately. My mother is narcissistic according to Jeanne, and is not consistent in the way she treats me, so I best be keeping my distance from her. I have friends on the internet that I correspond with, but Jeanne says I need friends that I will be able to spend time with. My life is very much a lonely one when I am not with my boyfriend. This can lead to sadness/depression which I have a history of.

I cannot believe that Jeanne is leaving. She could not find another local office to work out of. This is pretty devastating to me, as she is the best therapist that I have had thus far in my life. Her leaving is making me a bit concerned, because Dr. K alone doesn't cut it for me. We never go into any issues, they stay at the surface and nothing really gets close to being resolved, nor do I feel relieved from my discussions with him. I am pretty much left with nothing right now. She is quitting her practice at the end of the month. I will have to start all over again with someone new, pretty much throwing four years with a good therapist out the window. Not only do I feel scared, I also feel a sense of panic. Not many therapists take Medicare/Medicaid. And certainly not many that take my insurance can treat dissociation.

So on the same day I find out great news, I also find out terrible news. I guess life has a way of balancing itself out. Hopefully next time I have good news, I will be able to truly enjoy it.

Something

One of the most noticeable side effects of my medicine is it's flattening effect. Often it takes a lot of caffeine for me to be lively and talkative. Then I go to sleep (sometimes a bit late from being wired) and wake up back to flatness. A lot of the time I am 'stuck for words.' I have always been somewhat of a quiet person, but usually when I was around someone I felt comfortable with, I opened up. It is an unfortunate side effect, but the medicine works very well otherwise and there are not too many other medication options. So I shall drink my tea, and if I feel my stomach can handle it, I will have an occasional cup of coffee.

I am going into NYC on Monday. My boyfriend and I are going to see the butterfly exhibit at the Museum of Natural History. Dr. K says he saw it and thought it was remarkable.

Upon coming back from NYC, I should look into that volunteer office I was interested in. They said they'd call me after the new year; I figured that they would have called by now. My real wish is to start the internship program that I heard about several months ago. I need to get the handicap bus pass, and either in March of May if I haven't gotten a job, I will try it out. I really need to get involved in something, as I have way too much time on my hands. It is too easy to get depressed and sleep all day. I slept several hours this afternoon and felt horrible upon waking up. I feel like I need to accomplish something- it doesn't have to be anything spectacular, just something.

Not a problem...

I saw my parents for the first time tonight in a long time. I hadn't seen them since Christmas evening. It is strange that I felt so comfortable with them tonight because I am going through some issues revolving around the abuse I experienced during my childhood. Some old wounds have been re-opened. As long as it's not down-pouring, I am going to drive myself to therapy with Jeanne tomorrow. I haven't driven to her office in months. Hopefully I will be able to work on some stuff...hopefully my brain won't freeze up and leave me silent. I don't think that will be a problem, as I am feeling mildly depressed these past few days. Usually when I feel this way, talking to her is not a problem.

I see my psychiatrist on Wednesday. I don't anticipate any med changes. If I wanted more meds, I'd probably get them. Anything to keep me out of the hospital.

Six years ago...

Six years ago on this very day, the police brought me to the hospital. I had been in emergency housing since the day before, and was not doing well. Off of the meds, I could not sleep anymore. I didn't have any money, actually I had a dollar and some change. The dollar ended up being eaten by the soda machine at the emergency housing motel, and all the change I had was used to call Dr. K from the pay phone. I called him several times the night before; I thought that calling Dr. K wast he right thing to do, that maybe, somehow, he'd save me. I had a can of soup and a can of tuna, but no can opener. I had nothing with me but the clothes on my back and crutches. I became thirsty and punctured a hole in the soup can somehow and took some sips from it. I don't know what time it was, but I called the police from the payphone as they were my only option left since I had no change left. I told them that I had no food or drink and I needed help. They said something to me that I do not remember, and left me. I ended up calling them again and the second time they came, I explained to them that I had Dissociative Identity Disorder and I needed to see my therapist. This apparently rang a bell, and they put me in the back of the police car (no handcuffs) and took me to the precinct. There they had to switch drivers and I was afraid because I had felt comfortable with the first one. Two cops escorted me for the three hour trip to the hospital. I was terrified of getting in the elevator with them, as they were armed. Being off of meds, I was very paranoid. The only person I trusted at that time in my life was Dr. K. He had always been on my side. He had found emergency housing for me when I told him I could not go back to the room I was renting.

Because he was the only person I felt I could trust, I felt emotionally connected to Dr. K, as if he were my family. To make a long story short, after my time in the hospital, I was brought to a community residence (CR), otherwise known to many as a group home. I was deeply upset when I found out the court order they had placed upon me would prevent me from seeing Dr. K.

Eventually the court order was completed and I was able to go back to Dr. K. I may have knocked Dr. K in the earlier posts of this blog, and though sometimes it seems like our therapy does not go below the surface value of things, he had helped me during one of the hardest times in my life.

Happy New Year

It is hard to believe that it is 2009 and that this year I will turn 32. So far my 30's have been pretty good with no hospitalizations. I have to give credit to my medications. Seven years ago, I was reading a book titled Your Drug May be Your Problem - I think that was the exact title, but it's been a long time so I could be off. My drug was my problem back then. It was causing so many physical health problems that I took myself off of it. Zyprexa caused me to become pre-diabetic and the insulin resistance resulted in my ovaries developing cysts throwing my hormones all out of whack. I got a rash on the back of my neck which was a tell-tale indicator of insulin resistance. My family physician said the rash was something else and gave me a medication to apply to it but the rash remained. It wasn't until I went to an endocrinologist (I decided to go myself, no doctor told me to go to one) that I found out what was going on with me. I was off of Zyprexa for six months and slowly slid into true madness. My psychiatric nurse had no idea that was happening to me- I hid it from her. The only person that knew was Dr. K and he saw the worst of it. He diagnosed me with Dissociative Identity Disorder otherwise known as Multiple Personality Disorder. He said I had at least four distinct personalities. He says when they put me back on meds it went away. The hospital I ended up in didn't see that and diagnosed me with Schizoaffective Disorder. I was a mess, nonetheless.

Jeanne treats DID and says I do not have it. She says that I have some dissociative symptoms though. Isn't that lovely. Schizophrenia with depression and dissociative features. Nowadays I am on an "old-school" antipsychotic, that was in the 'family' of drugs that included Haldol. I no longer see the psychiatric nurse. I see a psychiatrist that my very first psychiatrist trained. She is from some other country and we have a language/communication barrier at times. No offense but I'd rather see an American psychiatrist, one that I could have better understanding with. For now, it seems that this is the only psychiatrist that takes my insurance local to my house. Medicaid- no one wants to take it. Medicare pays 50% of mental health fees. That would mean about $80 would be out-of-pocket, at least. Perhaps if I get a job, I could afford that. Until then I am pretty much stuck explaining what keyboarding means and why Americans want to do volunteer work.

I might be starting up some volunteer clerical work this month with an ALS organization. I have to go for a sort of interview, but they are going to contact me sometime within this month. I need to do something constructive with my time. I hardly ever hear from my best friend nowadays. My sister is in her own world. If I have something to do during the day, the evenings might not be so boring. It is time I took control.

the holidays

So, I got through Christmas. I didn't think it would be that much of a challenge, but when it came to seeing my aunt, it was. My mother's sister is very loud, says you know after everything she says and waits for a response to that, and tries to get me involved in everything she does. I tried to avoid the you know questions and getting involved in what she was doing, but it took me pretending to sleep in my parents' room with the lights out to be free. That was actually my mom's suggestion- she saw that my aunt was getting on my nerves. My mom can have some smart ideas once in a while. I am grateful that my mother raised me and not my aunt. If my aunt raised me, I'd have OCD and I'd be a nervous wreck most of the time. I'd probably have my schizoaffective disorder as well. Not that I don't have anxiety from my mom having raised me. And I do have some perfectionism issues. I hate to say it, but it was a good thing my aunt did not have kids.

Over the weekend, I made the mistake of seeing the movie Seven Pounds. I am not going to spoil it for anyone, but I must warn anyone that is going to see it that it is very depressing. In fact it was the most depressing movie I have seen in my entire life. Movies I have found to be depressing/sad in the past include E.T., the Titanic, Forrest Gump, and Girl Interrupted. I am sure there are more that I am not remembering. The latter two had me crying. I saw Titanic in day program so I don't think I fully got into it enough to cry. Girl Interrupted hit me on a personal level, perhaps those without mental illness would not find it as sad as I did.

New Year's should be fun. I am going to drive to Montauk lighthouse with my boyfriend very early in the morning but the purpose it to get to watch the first sunrise of the year from an excellent location. I have to check the weather to make sure my boyfriend and I can see the sunrise and it's not too cloudy. My housemates are going to be gone, which is another cool thing. It is a rare occurrence that I have the house to myself.

I have a lot of laundry to do. I was sick right before Christmas and did not do any. I got some clothes for Christmas that held me over...but it is time.