Happy House

Happy House

I’m feeling quite delicate today, I’m being bothered by sounds today – Pete tidying, which is good, but not now, me typing this and my neighbour’s car alarm. This particular car alarm is the bane of the close, well you know how annoying it can be, in my mind I’m Basil Fawlty hitting the car with a branch, but my body says “NOOOO”, maybe I’ll just go back to bed, put in my ear plugs and read a book.

I’ve had quite a bad period (that’s a period of time rather than a menstrual period). I’ve been on a downer for over a week now, I was feeling quite happy and productive and then down I went, nose-diving into the depths, that’s the usual feelings of wanting to end it all, luckily I had an appointment scheduled to see my psychiatrist in Nuneaton on Wednesday and Tuesday I was in Birmingham doing my usual voluntary work which helped ease the gloom and then met up with “me Jooliee” (quote Ali G) who cheered me up and made me laugh, she’s good at that as good friends should be able to do. Amongst this gloom one issue that was bothering me was the fact that I applied for a job, an excellent job, and the perfect job to ease me back into the workplace, a job with employers and colleagues who would understand both my TS and my mental health issues. This job also has prospects and I would also glean a lot of satisfaction from this job also – I’ll let you into a little secret it was for the role of Group Support Officer for TA for the North West. The ideal job really, you can imagine me pootling around the North setting up meetings and generally trying to be efficient and organized, but…here’s the big BUT…I wouldn’t be able to do it, I couldn’t afford to do it, the only way I could afford to do it is if I either a) I got myself another part time job that fitted in, but that wouldn’t exactly be easing myself into to the workplace and with the workload prepare for a meltdown, or b) bagged myself a rich boyfriend/husband who could support me (disclaimer – please don’t think I’m a gold-digger because I’m not). So the job isn’t mine, I’ve done the maths on several on-line benefit calculators turn2us.org.uk/benefits_sea... and each time I (we, that’s me and the ball-and-chain) come out worse, all we’d get apart from my wage would be housing benefit and my DLA, it amounts to less that Job-seekers allowance (£111.45 for couple over 25 per week) dwp.gov.uk/docs/benefitrate... also bearing in mind that the housing benefit now doesn’t cover all the rent due to the housing benefit cap, which contrary to popular belief doesn’t just effect those in posh pads in Westminster, I live in an ex-miner’s semi (which was supposed to be a temporary structure to last the life of Coventry Colliery, which was filled in in 1999, I think).

Returning back to Wednesday and my visit to my psychiatrist, it seems to be becoming more of a frequent occurrence that I come back with more meds (grown) this time stronger sleeping pills, Zopiclone, which I did try on Friday night and they knocked me out good and proper, I literally staggered to bed and I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow. Very odd, not good. But the first full nights sleep I’ve had in a long, long while. I’ve also been given Flupentixol, to help lift my mood, it has a bit, but I’m feeling quite tired and a bit “out of it” I feel like a walking (only if I really have to) chemist shop. I have however made contact with my CPN (are you receiving me?) he exists; hopefully he should come and see me next week which should be helpful.

One a plus point I (bighead) pulled off an excellent meeting at the weekend, it’s always good to get together with other ticcers, there was an excellent turnout including some new people and some younger people, and off we went for a pint afterwards, with all these meds floating about my system I could only handle 1 ½ pints of Guinness which is good for the bank balance, although strangely enough Zopiclone leaves the taste of Guinness in your mouth.

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