So, yesterday I had a marathon session at the Early Treatment Centre. It started with Occupational Therapy, then Physio, then working with OT assistant in gym and then I met my RMT. People are usually like, "awesome, I get a massage". Remember my friends that I would rather be at home than some clinic, and an all afternoon marathon of seeing professionals is not in the least my idea of a good time. Anyway, I end up with the massage therapist, who is a perfectly lovely young lady. She says "ok, strip down to your bra and panties and then hop up on the bed and I will be right back".
Really, does the girl not read my file??? I am a known runner. If I get an attack I bolt. No time to stop and think "Gee I am basically naked". So I look at her and said, "Nope that just ain't happening, there is no way you want to chance having a crazy naked woman running through the halls of the clinic." So she looks at me like I am from another planet and says "so what is going to happen?" I removed my hoody and my shoes and said "This is my compromise". Yah, all you clients at the clinic you are welcome! No one needs to have that sight added to their afternoon.
Hope your day is filled with laughter as you commend yourself on the mini steps you take to get back out in the real world.
Please join me on my journey through the complex issues of depression, anxiety, OCD and Panic Disorder. Please feel free to leave comments. Lets make this a place to share ideas and resources. Google+
Tuesday, 12 January 2016
Wednesday, 6 January 2016
When there are no more tears too shed.
Happy New Year. That's what we are supposed to say right. I am struggling with that right now. It feels a whole lot like the same old crap as last year. Don't get me wrong, I have some glimmers of hope for exciting things to happen this year but right now I am feeling so impossibly worn out by life.
I was called as a witness to an abuse trial which heads to court next week. I certainly want to testify but I am also aware that it may be a huge trigger for my anxiety. The solution that I suggested was to let me make my testimony via closed circuit tv. In order to do this I need a letter from my psychiatrist saying that I would be unable to take the stand in a traditional way. That being said the crown needs the letter not to open a can off worms about my mental state. That really undoes all the antistigma efforts that have occurred over the past few years. Just because I suffer from anxiety and depression does not make me an unfit witness, rather it just means that I require a small accommodation.
My daughter and I were in a car accident before Christmas and I am in quite bad pain still. When I drive the small car riding mere inches from the ground (or so it feels) I have visions of all that debris coming up on the windshield and the panicky feeling that my daughter will be killed. Ironically, thanks to this accident I have to drive twice as much to keep up with physio, insurance and getting my car fixed on top of all the regular appointments for the kids and now the court preparations.
I know I need to look at it all and remember that I am blessed to have a great family, warm home and amazing friends. I know that, really I do. All I ask is for a time of quiet. A time to rest. A time that there is no more need for me to shed tears.
I was called as a witness to an abuse trial which heads to court next week. I certainly want to testify but I am also aware that it may be a huge trigger for my anxiety. The solution that I suggested was to let me make my testimony via closed circuit tv. In order to do this I need a letter from my psychiatrist saying that I would be unable to take the stand in a traditional way. That being said the crown needs the letter not to open a can off worms about my mental state. That really undoes all the antistigma efforts that have occurred over the past few years. Just because I suffer from anxiety and depression does not make me an unfit witness, rather it just means that I require a small accommodation.
My daughter and I were in a car accident before Christmas and I am in quite bad pain still. When I drive the small car riding mere inches from the ground (or so it feels) I have visions of all that debris coming up on the windshield and the panicky feeling that my daughter will be killed. Ironically, thanks to this accident I have to drive twice as much to keep up with physio, insurance and getting my car fixed on top of all the regular appointments for the kids and now the court preparations.
I know I need to look at it all and remember that I am blessed to have a great family, warm home and amazing friends. I know that, really I do. All I ask is for a time of quiet. A time to rest. A time that there is no more need for me to shed tears.
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