An extended absence

Apologies for my extended absence. On November 1st I was dismissed from my job, with no prior warning, or expectation.

Needless to say, it threw me a little.

Luckily, I'm quite good with big problems, I just get on with trying to solve them. I just don't like letting people know. One good thing about social media, is that I could let everybody who needed to know (family, friends, anybody likely to ask about work!) know in one easy message. And then just ignore it all until I felt ready.

After 6 weeks, I finally have another job.

I originally looked at staying in search; lots of places wanted to interview me, but on hearing that I'd been sacked, or on seeing how little experience I'd managed to gain in the time I was there, didn't want to hire me.

So I looked at going back into schools.

I can now happily say that I will be working in a school as a LSA from January. It's only a part time role, and is tied to a specific child, so if he loses funding or leaves, my role goes too. However, I met the child yesterday and he is completely lovely! The school seems very nice. And during the interview the headmistress was very keen for me to be teaching in the future!

The school currently has two GTP students, so it seems hopeful that I can follow my child through to the end of school and then start training to be a primary teacher. (He's currently in yr 5 and next start date is Sept 2013).

Looking back, I've realised that the one thing I regret is doing a secondary PGCE rather than a primary one. It seemed a good choice at the time, but it just wasn't where my heart lay.

So, here's to the future. I may be very poor for the near future, but it looks bright.

Immunodeficiency?

I don't know how many of you still get excited when you see articles about CFS/ME. In fact, if you're anything like me, your heart probably sinks a little. After all, it's usually just more confirmation that we're either all mad, or some of us are mad, or none of us are mad but they're not sure how.

I did think this story was interesting though: http://www.bbc.co.uk/news/health-15401746

Mostly, for the very sensible comments of the researchers involved (basically; yeah, it worked. Now let's see if it really works).

Any opinions my fellow sufferers? Or those of you who don't suffer from this?

A Share

Having a very bad physical health day. More aches and pains than I've had for months and very little energy.

So instead, have a link to a fantastic post on a blog I've recently discovered:
http://aliciajduffy.blogspot.com/2011/10/day-to-day-life-of-being-mental.html

It really struck home with me, having to constantly question your own feelings.

I did it!

So I booked a doctors appointment today. I haven't been sectioned.
Yay! I have however been given a new drug to try; Prozac.

Now, I know that stereotypes are bad but in my mind, Prozac is the
crazy drug. I'm about 99% sure that I think that only because of the
media. After all, it's probably the most famous SSRI and the media
thinks that anybody on an SSRI is either batshit insane or a
malingerer. But even so, there's a little voice in my head that shouts
"see, told you that you're fucked up".

I guess this is one of those times that the CBT comes into play.
Telling the voice to STFU and doing what it takes to get better. Shame
the voice is so persistent.

My own prejudice makes me more determined than ever to try and fight
the myths about mental illness though. I really wish that I had the
energy to be able to volunteer for a charity like Mind or SANE. I see
Purple Persuasion's blog (worth a read if you don't already follow it)
and wish I could do half the things that she does. Or even write half
so eloquently on the important subjects I ignore whilst wallowing in
self pity!

But, the CFS gets in the way. If I work full time, and actually want
to try keep a social life, I don't have the time to volunteer, or even
to write considered blog posts.

Speaking of the CFS my doctor claimed there was nothing could be done
for me. And I was so flustered from admitting to the SA that I just
smiled and nodded. I even forgot to ask for a new prescription of the
beta blockers. Guess I'll see in the next fortnight what effect
they've actually been having.

Speaking of the next fortnight, new medication means dealing with new
side effects, and low dosage means possible low moods. Apologies in
advance if this blog gets ignored, becomes very emo or just generally
becomes unreadable. Also apologies if you know me in RL for the same
things!

Mental Health Week

So, it's National Mental Health Week.

I guess my response is, so what?

I gave a shoutout on my Twitter, to anybody who was not as mentally healthy as they wished.

The BBC and various other news sources will trumpet stories about mental illness. And real people. And the "pain behind the star's smiles" and other such rubbish.

How much of it do you think actually makes a difference?

I know how much I think. Very little. Mostly it's just lip service, or titilation - "look, this person heard voices, now they have a job and partner everything" *rolls eyes*

But at the same time, if even one person who is struggling, sees something that resonates with them, and gets help, minimising their suffering, then it's all worthwhile. Right?

Even if it does make me feel a little bit like a zoo exhibit. Or perhaps an endangered creature.


What do you think?

As an aside, still not been to see the doctor. I keep putting it off, and the difficulty of getting appointments makes it very easy to do...

Now what?

Sorry for the lack of posts lately. I’ve been very tired and promised my partner that I wouldn’t blog whilst I’m meant to be working. Well, this is my lunch break so hopefully this doesn’t count!

I’m in a little bit of a sorry state at the moment. I’ve developed some god awful cold over the weekend (I’m blaming my boss!) and also had a very late night on Saturday (although I’d kind of prepared by sleeping for 18 hours the night before!).

The night before was also the closest I’ve ever come to actually committing suicide. It scared me a little. Although not as much as it scared my partner.

It wasn’t particularly dramatic. But it was measured, and thought through. And I started going through with it. It was nothing too terrible. I took 4 co-dydramol before my partner found me. Yep. Only 4. Pathetic I’m aware. But not to me. Not when I was doing this, taking a tablet only every time I’d counted to 150 and asked myself if it was what I wanted to do. And the answer was consistently yes. And would have remained so.

So, this scares me.

I should probably make an appointment to see the doctor. I also need to see them to get support with regards to my ME. But I daren’t. I’m so worried that they’ll tell me it’s all in my mind. That I’m a hypochondriac who is wasting their time. I know labels aren’t great, but without my labels, what am I? A fat, lazy cunt who can’t cope with the real world is what.

*sigh*

Thanks if you’ve read this. Please don’t laugh at me for my pathetic SA.

Social Media

I'm currently taking a break from non-blog based social media. And, whilst that means this post probably won't be seen (I normally pimp new posts on Twitter and G+) I thought I'd share my reasons why and a few thoughts in general.

The main reason I'm taking a break from SM is a lack of perspective. I found myself getting upset that tweets weren't being replied to, or that my status update got 3 comments and such-and-such's got 52. I started thinking that it was because I wasn't worth talking to, or that I was inherently less valuable than them.

Obviously, this is absolute rubbish. The 52 comments could all have been telling the person what a dick they are. Unlikely, but possible. The association between comments/tweets and popularity or being liked, is (almost) entirely in my head. And whilst logically I know this, I think I need some time away to try and truly see that. (BTW - I'm just as bad with this blog, I stress constantly about the lack of comments or links to it and such like).

Part of this stems from various issues I had at secondary school. Children are cruel and I was a little bit stupid. Perhaps one day I'll expand on that, but for now, it's enough to know that I was left with absolutely zero self esteem. I put on an act. I pretended. And eventually I got some back. But even now, nearly 10 years later, I still feel like I'm unworthy of being liked, let alone loved. I assume that people put up with, rather than enjoy, my company.

If I've ever gotten in touch with you, feel privileged. I hate to initiate contact, I assume people will be pissed off by hearing from me. I always assume people talking to me in groups/when I'm out etc. are just being polite and can't wait to get away from me in actuality. Slowly, I'm starting to feel less like that. On good days I even admit I might have friends. But most days? Most days I assume that everybody secretly hates me and wants me to leave them alone.