The appointment was made early in the day. Before work. Get it over and done with. Well, that was the theory.
I got up on time, fed the cat, showered, dressed and was out the door by 7.45.
The appointment was made for 8 a.m.
There's something about knowing that you're going to end up a wreck when you go into an appointment. Accepting that I need a mental health plan has been a big deal, not that there is any stigma in asking for help, nor seeking it.
I'm very thankful I've got a doctor I like and trust.
I arrived on time. A few minutes later she called me in. And after a few checks and questions about how other things are going - blood pressure (coming down), if the sleeping tablets she gave me for my Darwin trips didn't make me sleepwalk (No - all good), and a chat about the dietician (who I can claim a few sessions with Medicare - yay), we got on with the appointment at hand.
The Mental Health Plan.
What got me most was that it's been nearly 20 years since I last sought treatment for my mental health. It still feels like it was last year. That time round, it was intensive hypnotherapy. My therapist at the time was brilliant, and thorough, and he helped set me on my way. He instilled me with a lot of tools to manage the depression patches that come round once or twice a year. The trick, for me, is to acknowledge them, then take a lot of care of myself and I tend to turn around pretty quickly.
This time, it's different. It's not depression that's kicking me, but anxiety.
So, we had a good chat about things.
She was kind. She listened.
See, this is the thing about being a high-functioning woman, you know how to mask the symptoms - I've been doing this for thirty years. The fact that I've had difficulty getting into a pump class because the number of people and the loud music get to me. That I'm waking up at 2 in the morning and panicking about all sorts of things that I have little control over is not usual but has thankfully abated a bit thanks to lavender oil and melatonin. That I've been avoiding going out. That the mix the naturopath gives me for my blood pressure is full of herbs to treat anxiety and that works better than any medication she gives me.... It's all adding up.
This is on top of the childhood trauma which, though dealt with in the last session of therapy has come back to haunt me.
And did I mention my father died at 55? Intellectually I know I have none of the same medical issues he had going on. I know my grandmother lived to 104. But on a strange and deep level, this too is kicking at my soul.
Oh yes, and there's a good possibility I fall into the realms of the ADHD spectrum.
So yeah, I'm currently one big existential crisis who's just keeping my head above water.
At least I'm still functioning. Better to embark on this journey when you're not a foetal-positioned puddle on the floor.
We filled in the forms. Went through the motions. Most things are fine. Some things are not. Concentration is fleeting. See, shiny thing... My moods are up and down. Sleep has been problematic. There are occasional dark thoughts, not that I'd act on them, but you have to admit to having them now and then. More a what's the point question rather than an 'I'm over it' statement.
She asked about support and family. Well, they're over in Adelaide. I talk to my mother once a week, my sisters ever few months (though we see each other on Facebook.) It's always been like that.
A partner? No. Never had one. She raised an eyebrow, knowing my gynae history. I see people. I go out with people. I've had lovers. But they're not the people you do the food shopping with, or get a mortgage with, or who are obligated to pick you up from the hospital and love your cat with a fervour that matches your own.
Friends. Yes, I have them too, but I don't want to worry them with this stuff. They have their own families and lives. It wrecks me to have to ask friends to mind my cat when I'm away. I've always been hyper-independent. It's conditioning from a very young age. (And another ADHD trait.)
We've decided to go the psychologist route first, get an assessment, while being open to seeing a psychiatrist if the need requires.
I left 45 minutes later with the mental health plan in my bag and a list of psychology practices to look into to find somebody to help me through this.
I acted on my first impulse and rather than go straight home I went and got a coffee. I then bought two donuts, because if you've just exposed yourself in such a way, you can find some solace in a donut. Self-soothing through food. See, I recognised it, and acted. There is something calming about the mixture of sugar and fat.
Next thing, over lunchtime, I started looking into the psychologists' websites and immediately became overwhelmed. It felt a bit like Tinder for shrinks.
A few email queries were sent, and I'm aware it could take a few weeks to get into see somebody. But it's a start. Baby steps.
And in the meantime, I'm concentrating on being kind to myself. This probably won't be a quick fix. There's work to be done.
Onwards, I say.
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