maybe, just maybe

So I may finally be getting somewhere. After 7 years of fighting with doctors and arguing that CBT does not work for me, I think I am finally being taken seriously! I received a call at 9:06 this morning. I 'd had 0 hours sleep all night so weren't really in the mood for a phone call, but I didn't recognise the number, so it had me a little intrigued. So I answered.

It was the people from the healthy minds network. I know that their first port of call is CBT, so I weren't holding out much hope for anything further than that and I knew full well if that was what they offered me I was going to decline and try once more t go back to the doctors. Yet this time, she said "I see you have had four lots of CBT, did you find that in any way helpful". Of course I answered no, as it just isn't helpful t me. I explained that my last therapist actually said to me, that I was doing all that was required, but it just isn't working for me. This is the point where I expected her to say "well sorry, there is not really much we can do for you the" and I'd be back at square one, as always. Only she didn't.

She informed me that I could go for an assessment and then be referred on to either the psychology or psychiatry department. She said there are four levels. The first is self help, then medication then CBT and then what they are now referring me to. She explained because this has been a long standing problem, and that very little seems to have helped, she does not see a problem with being referred on for the fourth level.

Apparently, if CBT doesn't work, places like this should refer on to the fourth level, especially if it is a long standing problem. I do not really understand why I have been discharged from CBT four times, without any recommendation for further treatment. I mean surely after the fourth time, it was pretty obvious that this just is not going to work for me.

Anyhow, I have my appointment for assessment, on whether I am in need of longer term treatment, in three weeks time. I am kind of glad I hadn't slept all night, otherwise, I doubt I would have been so open on the phone. I am just hoping that this is it. This is the time, when someone listen to me and takes my issues seriously. I really and truly hope, that for once, I will feel like I am being taken seriously and not just being palmed off and told that CBT is the only way. As if this time I get nowhere, I am not sure I have enough fight in me to once again, fight for the treatment I believe I deserve.

Feeling the pressure

So being in my third year is tough. I always knew it was going to be tough but right now, I'm not even sure I can do it. I'm stressed by the amount of work I have on, and yet I seem to lose a lot of my motivation, I suppose because I am terrified that if I put everything I have into this and don't get a good mark, or even worse, fail, I will not believe I am able to do anything.

I honestly think it was a mistake going to university while I still have axiety and depression as that takes up so much of my time. Like yesterday for instance, I was sitting transcribing-and getting quite far may I add-when all of a suddon this massive wave of anxiety hit me. I wanted to carry on, I needed to carry on. I really do not have the time to be taking breaks due to anxiety, however I could not carry on. I had to stop because this anxiety was not going away. I tried to fight it, I tried to be strong, but the anxiety won out, yet again.

I strongly believe I would be doing much better right now, if it were not for the anxiety and depression. I would go to the library regularly, I would sit and study without suddenly being over come by fear. All these things would improve my grades massively. Yet I also know that there are plenty of people out there that don't even believe that I have anxiety in the firt place. I mean people often do not believe what they cannot see.

This is something I fnd I also struggle with. I have had anxiety for at least 8 years now, it comes to a point where you learn to only panic on the inside, and therefore it looks, much of the time, like I am simply making excuses. I wish I were. If I were making excuses, at least I'd be able to give myself a kick up the butt and get going again. Yet for me it is not as simple as that. When I kick myself up the butt, and force myself to do the things that scare me, I then find it makes things all the worse, I begin to crack under the pressure and begin to spirel back into an even worse state.

I was hoping, that while at uni, I would work on getting myself better. I would be able to come out of it, well and able to work a full time job. I am ashamed to say, this has not happened. There is no way when I finish I will be able to work. Even if I pass, I will still manage to feel like a failiur. I mean who goes to uni for three years and then comes out of it and goes on unemployment benefits? I know-or rather I believe-I have a good reason. Yet I still feel many people judging me as a result.

I do plan on somehow having a gradual reintroduction to work, as I believe that is the only way I will ever really be able to do it. Yet I fear this will not be good enough for many. I fear that many will still judge and believe me to be lazy. Sometimes I wish I could show outward signs of my anxiety, I wish people could see what it does. Yet that will never happen because I have become so cotrolled in it, that most of the time, when I am feeling extreme anxiety I appear to be completely normal.

Ever wonder about some people?

I have plenty of people in my life that are not exactly what I was call friends, or even acquaintances, in fact some of them really hate me, and that is fine, we don't all get on in this life and I am okay with that.

However, when someone decides they absolutely despise you and just cannot get over what a terrible person they think you are, to the point of them thinking you are nearly evil personified, why would that person then be so interested in keeping up to date with what is going on in your life?

I mean don;t get me wrong, ever now and again I have a sneak peak at people's blogs that I fell out with ages ago, however, I do not view it every time they make a post. What is the point in that? Seriously, I don't get it. We all like to have a nosey, but surely this is bordering on obsession? I don't think there is a single person that I dislike so much, that I need to read their blog every time they post, just to see if my predictions about that person were right. It seems like a very odd thing to me. Is it just me, or is this something that is odd, would you views someone's blog, that you hated, every day?

what's your personality type?

Just thought I'd do something on blogthings to post here today, I did the what's your personality type quiz and this was the result

The Idealist

You are a creative person with a great imagination. You enjoy living in your own inner world.
Open minded and accepting, you strive for harmony in your important relationships.
It takes a long time for people to get to know you. You are hesitant to let people get close to you.
But once you care for someone, you do everything you can to help them grow and develop.

In love, you tend to have high (and often unrealistic) standards.
You are very sensitive. You tend to have intense feelings.

At work, you need to do something that expresses your personal values.
You would make an excellent writer, psychologist, or artist.

How you see yourself: Unselfish, empathetic, and spiritual

When other people don't get you, they see you as: Unrealistic, naive, and weak

Journal jar 29. Thinking back, was there a teacher who had a great influence on you?

Well this one is easy. It was definitely my access tutor Carolyn. I was not the best student when I first got there (or at any point really). I remember I went to college to make friends and yet because this tutor never gave up on me and actually believed in me, I began to believe in myself. A teacher had faith in me and made me believe I could do it too. Trust me that was a massive thing for me. I was such a little shit. Never really gave a crap about anything.

I remember me and Dave, were both kind of outcasts from the rest of the class. I was seen as someone that had no real responsibility and therefore should find this all easy. Don't get me wrong, I found the work easier than I thought I would. I didn't really struggle with that aspect of being at college. I just struggled with the concept of actually being at college and of education as a whole. I had never really been the brightest crayon in the box and I strongly believed that was because I was just stupid.

I struggled to attend college because of my anxiety, I found it really hard to be in a setting that made me feel as I used to growing up. Being in a setting like that, meant I did exactly what I used to. Basically messed about and did 0 work. I am sure nearly all the tutors on that course had enough of me by the time level 2 finished. I remember it being 3 weeks till the end of the year and I still had half the work to finish! Including a core skills folder, that we were supposed to be keeping throughout the year that I hadn't even begun to think about starting, let alone having the thing completed.

It weren't till this last three weeks that I realised I wanted to go on to the level three. So I started to actually do my work. Which to be fair there was no way I could complete that much work in that little time. I spent every single day there from about 9-5 sometimes later, depending on what I was doing. Then I'd come home and do some more work. It weren't enough though, I didn't get my maths completed. Which should have meant that I couldn't go onto level 3 as I hadn't completed everything. Yet my tutor said that I could go on-which I knew was taking a chance on me. When you think about it, I hadn't exactly shown my commitment to doing well!

While on the level three, I cannot remember the amount of times I was in the office quitting the course or asking for help. I remember one time, when I was trying to sort out my core skills folder (I kept up with it this time). I ended up going to her office and saying I was going to throw it out of the window as I couldn't get it into order. She didn't hesitate in helping me out. In fact she never hesitated in helping me out. If I had a problem she would do her best to help me sort it. I can honestly say I wouldn't be in my final year of university if it was not for that teacher. I often say the access course changed my life, yet in all honesty I think it was that teacher that changed my life.

Presentation jitters

I had a presentation at uni today. Which is to be fair, my idea of hell. Standing (or in my case, sitting) in front of a class full of people talking, makes me feel sick to my stomach. I was not even sure whether I was going to make it to the presentation as I had the 'lump in my throat' feeling from the second I stepped out my front door. Not only because I had to present but because I still had bits to finish off and references to find. This was going to be a stressful day, not only for me, but for Jess and Amy too (the others that were in my presentation group).

We all met at the library and started work on getting it finished. 4 hours to finish it and practise it sounds fine doesn't it? Sounds like that wouldn't be a problem at all. Only we started to run out of time fast. I finished off my little bots, while Jess and Amy worked on getting some order to the presentation. by about 1pm, we were just sitting trying to get all the references sorted, when I realised I had lost the journal article for one of my references and couldn't find the reference anywhere. Okay so this was major freak out time, well the time I would usually freak out. Yet we decided it would be better to just pretend we forgot the reference, as this section of the presentation was such a vital point to my area. Then Jess couldn't find one of her references, so we decided to do the same again, I mean we had well over 30 references, a couple being missing isn't going to be the end of the world surely?

Now time to go and practise, for this we needed a room to ourselves, we went to Mellor up to the LRC, where we know there is usually a spare room. Guess what our luck dictated today though? Someone was in that room. So we decided to go back down to the bottom floor, where rooms are always free. Again though, no room was free. Okay now it was getting stressful, we hadn't practised it at all yet, and it was 45 minutes until the presentation. So up to second floor we went, where there was a room (YAY) so we got to practising, we only managed to get one practise in, before we had to run to present. We ironed out all the wrinkles and realised we were 2 minutes over time, which would have lost us major marks. So we had to work out some things to cut out, we just decided quickly, as we didn't have time to worry about it properly.

Onto the presentation, to be honest, I weren't really feeling much fear, until I actually sat down ready to present. The whole time Jess and Amy were reading their sections I felt like I was going to faint, with my heart nearly beating through my chest. I was getting all shaky as per when it comes to these things and was starting to worry that I was going to have a panic attack in the middle of presenting. Then came my turn....

I begun reading out what I had written down-although I know this is not the best technique, there was no way I could look up at the class and say it, as I would have probably ran out crying. So I pretended they were not there, they did not exist, I was just reading this aloud to myself. Definitely NOT the best presenting skills! lol. I stumbled a few times, I expected that though. However I do not expect to lose my place and begin re-reading something I had already read out (Talk about wasting valuable time!). But I just carried on, not that I wanted to, lol.

After we all finished our sections, it was question time. I think I can safely say this is the part where we al wanted to scream as loud as humanly possible! What if we didn't know the answer? How the hell would we deal with that? Turns out I am great at spilling out some bullshit on the spot, that actually sounds half decent! I kind of knew I could do that from things that happened in college, but although I appeared confident, I most definitely was not. Yet I pulled off, not only bulshitting my way through an answer but also defending said bullshit, and my bullshit was not wrong either!

So there you have it, my day and presentation jitter. I am just hoping I never have to go through that again!

Journal Jar 65: Tell Me About Your First Pet

I’ve been struggling to come up with blog posts so decided to give this whole journal jar thing a go.

My first pet. To be honest, I’m not really sure how to interpret which is my first pet - the one I first lived with or the one I first owned myself? I’ll just tell you about both.

First there was Buster. She was there before I was born and I loved her to pieces. She was tortoise shell with a white underbelly. I guess I better mention, she was also a cat. LOL. I just kind of assume everyone will know I am talking about a cat, but obviously they won‘t! Silly me!

My parents rescued Buster from a cat re-homing centre when she was just a kitten, although originally she’d been found in a bag on a bus! Hence the name ‘Buster‘. I will never understand how anyone could abandon anything so cute, but I suppose we don't know the reasons behind it. To be honest I don’t remember much about Buster as she passed away when I was in secondary school. We did have a kitten named Monty, but he ran away after buster died. Again don't really remember much about him.

We then got Heartly and Gizmo. Those two came from the cat’s protection league. Massive cats, they were! I remember whenever I was away and had spent time with normal size cats, I’d come home and suddenly my cats seemed HUGE. Gizmo was more of my brother’s cat, whereas Heartly, when he was in, he was my cat. He used to sleep in my room and follow me about. Then he he got a really deep cut on his leg so, because he had a cone around his head, he had to stay in. That’s when he really became my cat. He’d sleep on my window-seal where I’d make a little pillow type thing under his chin so as he’d be comfortable, and I was the only one he would allow to give him his medication. After that he became an indoor cat, bless his heart.

Then there was Daisy and girl, which were the first pets I owned myself. They were lovely cats. Actually I’ve written about them before, so won't go into too much detail but I will say they both saved me from some incredible loneliness and gave me a purpose. They made me feel loved when I felt like no one did. Honestly, I would have been lost without those two. They really did save me!

Oh my god, I almost forgot about my hamsters, Winger and Snowey. Winger, because he was white and ginger, and snowy because he was white. What an imagination back then! lol. Anyway I remember getting Snowy because my brother had gone away on holiday with his school and my mum and dad felt I deserved a treat too and, let’s face it, I was hardly going to deny them the pleasure of treating me was I? lol.

To be honest at the moment I don't have any pets and I do feel lost. I’m planning on getting a cat,-hopefully a Ragdoll, from a Ragdoll rescue centre, but that won’t be until I have my own place again. I’d actually quite like a dog, too, but time will tell. Plans change. I could end up with a parrot. Lol.