I’d love to be able to write something upbeat, positive and …and….I can’t even think of the word that’s how it is for me, I’m out of control.
I still haven’t found somewhere to move to despite the fact that we were supposed to be out of here but August the 8th. We have seen countless houses the ones that we have liked have then seemed to develop some imaginary fault and then there are others that just seem to be a big fault on the landscape. There is one plus side whilst waiting to find out where I’ll be living I’ve been trying to get fit and I’m gaining some control over this part of my life. Don’t put my name down yet to run a marathon but physically I’m feeling better, mentally that’s another situation, I haven’t been able to doing anything “normal” like I’ve been able to in the past, that’s being able to talk to people like a “normal” person that not counting the coprolalia but being able to string a few sentences together without bursting into tears like “normal” people do, this has made minor tasks like go to the Post Office and put a brave face on things VERY DIFFICULT, Luckily nobody turned up to the last support group meeting, I was met by the manager and used up that days quota of normality on him, he went home, I waited, I pretended to be normal on Facebook then went home after waiting an hour.
Running around the village playing field and adjoining meadow is easier; I just need to nod civilly to dog walkers, some of whom don’t realize that some other people have real problems with the mess their beloved pets leave behind. I’m getting better with the whole dog poo issue, at least I’m managing to run on the grass rather than move slowing looking at every blade of grass for poo, my foot landed a few centemetres away from a dried deposit and got over the trauma of that near miss within a couple of minutes.
Going back to whole house issue, the ultimate decision about where I live is out of my hands, it’s not me who’ll be paying the bond, month’s rent upfront and other costs, it’s not me who upped the budget so one gets what one wants ….no siree, it was my partner’s parents. Unfortunately my parents don’t have the means to help me out like that, they would also tell me to live within my means, so therefore a one bedroom flat would do me fine. So as you can imagine I feel a bit …under the thumb?
Why don’t you get a council flat? I hear you think to yourself that is something I’ve considered, for myself, certain people want more space. The thing is I’m amongst a LOT of other people wanting one bedroom flats, I’m competing against all those people who need to downsize due to the Bedroom Tax.
As this is a blog about Tourette’s syndrome I should talk about how this impacting on my tics. The Flupentixol has been upped to help me cope, the Zopiclone is still about helping me sleep, despite the maximum dose putting me to sleep I wake up 4-5 hours later. So yes, the tics are worse and I need something short of a pharmaceutical plank to knock me out. It’s the OCD and anxiety side of things that has been taking the most out of me, (and the local mental health team) the week before last after having a major meltdown in somebody’s garden after rushing to get out of my house (can’t call it a home anymore) to be on my own in the meadow, hide in the grass and calm down, I wasn’t quite there and was stopped, asked how I was and just kind of…..well to cut a long story short for a week afterwards a CPN (my own was on holiday) had to come round each day and issue me with my medication and to monitor me.
I need a holiday, I’m desperate to get away from this stress, and I just feel so out of control. By the way the title is naturally another song title written by somebody who went on to develop epilepsy after writing this song which was inspired by a girl, who had epilepsy and later died who came into the Job Centre where he worked. Yes, Ian Curtis worked in the local Job Centre (somewhere in Salford I think) before Joy Division became famous. So there you have it a song with neurological link.