Tag Archives: therapy

And Liptember is OVER!

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So, Liptember is over for another year, and I’m happy that I met my fundraising target, and that I wore lipstick every day, and I tried a few new things, but I’m also tired. Why tired? Well because people around me are. Because while it’s fun to do fundraisers, it’s hard seeing people around you not being supported with their mental health. People accessing all they can – the Medicare rebated psych sessions, medications, GP visits – but that not being enough to make any headway. My sister will feel I’m calling her out with this, and while I am, it’s also half my Twitter feed and a bunch of my Facebook family and friends. They do what they need to to tread water, they maintain, they get things done, they keep on being alive, they keep doing the appointments they have to, to work days, the welfare obligations. But they don’t really get ahead.

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I’m certainly not ahead either, myself, I just managed to get myself to a point where I could convince the government that they were better off giving me DSP that trying to get me into a job that I might just throw away at the first sign of trouble. I had the privilege of being able to front up the cash for private psych and OT, to be able to get into the therapy program that made a difference but wouldn’t “fix” me, to get the reports from the private OT that got me over the line for DSP. So that now I can jump in and out of the real world as I see see fit with a safety net of not losing my DSP backup because I tried and failed at something.

I’m not yet at the point of wanted to do paid external work, but I’m participating more outside myself – I’m more involved with my local Greens’ group and the events and meetings they have, I’m more active online, I’m experimenting with more social media avenues and with Twitch streaming. I’m dabbling around to try and find what I like, and hopefully being useful in the meantime. I’m doing my e-girl and activist things and I really like that. Those things excite me, being online, trying to make a difference, either together or separate, but also just figuring out me.

While also being able to be there for my partner and my sister and their kids. Helping my stepkid get into the right therapy, taking my nephew and niece to appointments, babysitting the little ones, being a sounding board for my sister, making my partner lunch and dinner and keepingย  a clean and ordered house so we can relax together in the evenings. Playing with my dog, getting the kids used to a dog. Helping the children learn to be themselves and grow and explore their lives.

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I’m doing what I can and mostly what I want to do and while I’m tired, I like it. I like me.

You can still donate til the 15th for my Liptember, and I’ll wear the lippy of your choice one day ๐Ÿ™‚ I still don’t have yellow and threw out a few over the month, but there’s still way too many to choose from.

Back to face to face therapy – also don’t scare me like that Centrelink!

I did it! Made it into town, did my first face to face psych session in 6 months, first time I’d seen this therapist in person since the assessment 18 months ago, and yeah, did it.

Verrrrrrry zonked this afternoon, but let’s see what I remember of the day and I get going.

Didn’t sleep great, that’s a little expected, got up after waking a few times a bit after 700 and made coffees. Sipped on that, did the breakfast and meds thing. Now I’m wondering whether it was today I made Bruce toast with his second coffee? I think so, the bread was soft. Unless that was last night? Blur I tells ya, there wouldn’t have been coffee though last night, so I think it was this morning.

Drove to the station, walked down the stairs as the earlier train pulled in, so hopped on that.

Two stations in it clicked that I was meant to have a mask on. Whoops.

Made it to Newcastle interchange. Most of the toilets were closed off, but I didn’t actually need to go and the tram was there so I caught it to Crown street to walk through the mall and see how it was going.

Took some pictures of the changes, like to the old David jones building. Bought some cards.

Sat outside the post office, wrote in a card for my old OT whos report I think got me over the line for DSP. Then walked up the hill to the hospital.

Reloaded my vaccination certificate and the service NSW app. My third vax still isn’t on Medicare, I guess I should ask the chemist about that…

Went in, mask on. Receptionist – I said hi and said who I was, she wounded familiar from the phone. Some of the mental health receptionists have the best manner. Very mum-like but businessy enough. Some suck. This one rules. She makes me feel like my calls aren’t annoying . Always good for those of us with rejection issues.

Oh speaking of rejection issues, starting to feel a little like I have to come up with more problems so that my therapist doesn’t think I’m doing too well and says I don’t need to continue with the service. I mean it’s nice not to be crazy erratic, but I do have things to work on and I’m just getting into this doing things again.

So into the session. OMG so sweaty. Glasses fogging up. Had the window and outside door (to the balcony, old hospital all that) open for covid airflow reasons. but I’m this hot mess of SWEAT.

At one point he asked how I was inside, and honestly I wasn’t a mess inside, it was all outside for once. Still masking to high heaven. Wonder if that’s easier with actual masks or not. Time will tell. I don’t really try too hard with my short appointments at the Mater to get my antabuse, they see me as I come that day for that few minutes. And keeping coherent for 5 minutes is easy. But a 50 minute psyc session? Yeah I can do it on the computer. Easy. But I don’t want to. I want to drop the mask and therapy properly. I guess raising masking vs opposite action will be something I bring to the agenda next week. I need to bring more stuff so why not that? Also works into my working up to raising whether I’m autistic. As will telling him about the yellow ladybugs autism and adhd conference in June.

I know I should do it, at least actually get a professional’s input. Especially while have this access. But I’m scared he’ll think I’m so off target or I’m making stuff up or something. I don’t know. I still have to build that trust I guess.

He brought up the reminder that we were going to talk more about work options, I asked if I told him about my DSP approval, he said I hadn’t but he was glad I got it even though his report wasn’t helpful because he’s so set on DBT being amazing and me being a good candidate for change.

Which brings me to Centrelink and them calling me to upset me on the train on the way home.

As I wrote on FB to my sister

I have to provide bruce’s profit and loss statements, but they called me to tell me on the phone on the train on the way home today and it was a shock and I cried and didn’t get all the info and she said to call them back later if I wanted to check, but yeah. I got an answer on twitter though and theree’s a letting in the mail I can wait for

So yeah, have to do his income side of things. When the lady said why she was calling she said she was assessing my DSP claim,, and I was very shocked and very much thinking it was god to go. It took a few times to explain to me it was to approve me eligibility on the income side – ie whether Bruce should be my keeper because partner income and asset test crap. The phone dropped out in the Cardiff tunnel too which didn’t help. And THEN she said to just call back and she’d made a note on the file of what forms to complete and they could tell me again, and so i did after lunch and I wasn’t able to verify my identity with my voice and they weren’t understanding my responses and maybe I wasn’t that coherent by then? but I asked for operator then was told they were busy and to do it online and they hung up.

Thankfully I got an answer to my cries on Twitter. God I love the social media teams on there.

So I’m more than done.

I played Animal crossing and wore my Hello Kitty hat and shoes that came with teh Amiibo cards Yieki gave me. And I made pasta for dinner.

And I’m sooooooo tired.