Delta40
08-04-2011, 08:17 PM
So I just don't get it. One day my spirits are on an all time high and the next they plummet like a vertical adrenaline ride at a fairground. I've heard the rationale behind it from friends and family.
'You've got alot on your plate right now.'
'You're getting to THAT time of life.'
What bullcrap. It doesn't explain a lifetime of zero to 100 in less than a nano second. Somebody recently told me to get help. I'm a bit wary about what this 'help' might entail but to be honest, the options are narrowing down like an ocean trying to pump its way through a canal. So I say okay, I'll get help.
The grey haired lady at Ellen street greets me in gentle, soft terms as if any moment I might fly off the handle and beat her senseless. Don't get me wrong. I know I can come across that way at my worst but today I've taken the trouble to put on my happy face and buck my spirits up. 'Think of all the wonderful things you got to look forward to girl' I utter out loud as I blow dry my hair. I don't style my hair for just anyone unless I want to make a good impression and getting psychologically assessed is one of those occasions.
'Now Anna, before we start can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?'
'Thanks. I'd really like that.' That's my I'm a really positive person talk and it comes in very handy for situations just like this. She makes me a cuppa and then sits me in a secluded room so I can fill in some forms and do a Likhert scale questionaire. Boy I hate those scales. I mean, they want me to rate from 0 to 3 how I have felt in the last 7 days on approximately 25 negative statements ranging from 'I often think about suicide' to 'I find it hard to swallow' I do find it hard to swallow right now because I can feel a throat infection coming on but I'm not sure if that counts.
Since I spent all morning prepping myself and saying affirmations like 'Anna. You're a strong woman.' I actually feel good about myself. So how the hell do I gauge the other 6 days? It makes no sense. I go up and down like a goddam yo-yo and I'm supposed to find the middle ground on all this stuff. So after sipping my coffee between 'I get anxious when people look at me' and 'I believe I'm worthless' I pretty much circle 0 for most of them, thinking I'll tell her about my mood swings and therefore this assessment will hold very little meaning except on the day.
She comes back into the room and takes the clipboard off me and studies it in silence while I continue with my coffee thinking 'what's the point?' Finally, she looks up at me and smiles.
'So Anna tell me what brought you to Ellen Street. Looking at these ratings you seem to be a positive person.'
Well of course I am! It's one of the endless dilemmas that I struggle to reconcile with. How can I be an optimist and yet be subject to bouts or episodes of moods and even depression? The math here is definitely wrong but I did promise myself when I was getting ready this morning I would impress her and so I speak at length about my willingness to particpate in my own development and my ability to use practical skills to better enhance my life. It's all blah blah blah really but I know that's what she wants to hear because before I know it she gushes what an insightful person I am.
My spirits take a small dive. Is this what I really want to convey? I mean if I'm so f ucking good, why do I need help? So I tell her about the mood swings and that's when she starts to piss me off.
'How old are you Anna?'
'43'
'Have you noticed any physical changes lately? Hot flushes?'
Well I do get hot flushes as it happens but mainly when I lose my temper and launch into a tirade of nonsensical crap that doesn't help anyone. I used to think blowing up would clear the air but it only pushes the clouds that need addressing to the other side of the room. At the same time I get annoyed that my problems are possibly due to menopause because for some reason I think its a perfect way of discounting any mental health issues I might have. I grin and bear the question like any silent feminist.
'No. I've had mood swings for most of my life.'
'I see.' She writes some notes and I look out the window at the grey cloud covering above. There is going to be a storm shortly and I don't want to be here when it arrives. She picks up a timetable of various courses they run. Too bad most of them are on the days that I work.
'That does make it difficult because to enter into the Dialectical Behaviour Therapy program some of these 12 week courses are what we call a prerequisite.'
'What can you do then?'
'The Mood Management course also runs from 6.30pm to 8.30pm on Monday nights so you could come from work and attend it then.'
I work 30kms from here and don't drive so she's asking me to cut my hours at work so I can get here in time and then walk 2kms into town to catch the bus home in the middle of winter. I know my limitations (which I've heard is a good thing) so I tell her I am eager to get involved with DBT but I know I will not sustain the evening course for the reasons just outlined.
'Well we really want to help you but it will make it harder if you don't attend.'
I know that! Does she think I'll put the few measly hours I work on hold to attend some arty farty group therapy on mood management though? Would you? I've got plans and goals to reach and I can't let something like this sidetrack me from where I want to go. So I suggest that it might be better if I just continue to see the psychologist I've recently been referred to and she heartily agrees.
'I'll be in touch if any of the course times change and in the meantime I'll let the psychologist know of the outcome.'
I thank her for the coffee and leave. The light rain douses my spirits further and above me the sky is churning fiercely. I still don't get it but I figure she can get stuffed anyway because I showered and got made up for this and told her what I was capable of doing and what I wasn't. That means I filled my end of the bargain so I can go back and tell family and friends that I tried.
One day, I'll tell them about the psychologist I just started seeing but not until I lose it under the right circumstances.
'You've got alot on your plate right now.'
'You're getting to THAT time of life.'
What bullcrap. It doesn't explain a lifetime of zero to 100 in less than a nano second. Somebody recently told me to get help. I'm a bit wary about what this 'help' might entail but to be honest, the options are narrowing down like an ocean trying to pump its way through a canal. So I say okay, I'll get help.
The grey haired lady at Ellen street greets me in gentle, soft terms as if any moment I might fly off the handle and beat her senseless. Don't get me wrong. I know I can come across that way at my worst but today I've taken the trouble to put on my happy face and buck my spirits up. 'Think of all the wonderful things you got to look forward to girl' I utter out loud as I blow dry my hair. I don't style my hair for just anyone unless I want to make a good impression and getting psychologically assessed is one of those occasions.
'Now Anna, before we start can I get you a cup of coffee or tea?'
'Thanks. I'd really like that.' That's my I'm a really positive person talk and it comes in very handy for situations just like this. She makes me a cuppa and then sits me in a secluded room so I can fill in some forms and do a Likhert scale questionaire. Boy I hate those scales. I mean, they want me to rate from 0 to 3 how I have felt in the last 7 days on approximately 25 negative statements ranging from 'I often think about suicide' to 'I find it hard to swallow' I do find it hard to swallow right now because I can feel a throat infection coming on but I'm not sure if that counts.
Since I spent all morning prepping myself and saying affirmations like 'Anna. You're a strong woman.' I actually feel good about myself. So how the hell do I gauge the other 6 days? It makes no sense. I go up and down like a goddam yo-yo and I'm supposed to find the middle ground on all this stuff. So after sipping my coffee between 'I get anxious when people look at me' and 'I believe I'm worthless' I pretty much circle 0 for most of them, thinking I'll tell her about my mood swings and therefore this assessment will hold very little meaning except on the day.
She comes back into the room and takes the clipboard off me and studies it in silence while I continue with my coffee thinking 'what's the point?' Finally, she looks up at me and smiles.
'So Anna tell me what brought you to Ellen Street. Looking at these ratings you seem to be a positive person.'
Well of course I am! It's one of the endless dilemmas that I struggle to reconcile with. How can I be an optimist and yet be subject to bouts or episodes of moods and even depression? The math here is definitely wrong but I did promise myself when I was getting ready this morning I would impress her and so I speak at length about my willingness to particpate in my own development and my ability to use practical skills to better enhance my life. It's all blah blah blah really but I know that's what she wants to hear because before I know it she gushes what an insightful person I am.
My spirits take a small dive. Is this what I really want to convey? I mean if I'm so f ucking good, why do I need help? So I tell her about the mood swings and that's when she starts to piss me off.
'How old are you Anna?'
'43'
'Have you noticed any physical changes lately? Hot flushes?'
Well I do get hot flushes as it happens but mainly when I lose my temper and launch into a tirade of nonsensical crap that doesn't help anyone. I used to think blowing up would clear the air but it only pushes the clouds that need addressing to the other side of the room. At the same time I get annoyed that my problems are possibly due to menopause because for some reason I think its a perfect way of discounting any mental health issues I might have. I grin and bear the question like any silent feminist.
'No. I've had mood swings for most of my life.'
'I see.' She writes some notes and I look out the window at the grey cloud covering above. There is going to be a storm shortly and I don't want to be here when it arrives. She picks up a timetable of various courses they run. Too bad most of them are on the days that I work.
'That does make it difficult because to enter into the Dialectical Behaviour Therapy program some of these 12 week courses are what we call a prerequisite.'
'What can you do then?'
'The Mood Management course also runs from 6.30pm to 8.30pm on Monday nights so you could come from work and attend it then.'
I work 30kms from here and don't drive so she's asking me to cut my hours at work so I can get here in time and then walk 2kms into town to catch the bus home in the middle of winter. I know my limitations (which I've heard is a good thing) so I tell her I am eager to get involved with DBT but I know I will not sustain the evening course for the reasons just outlined.
'Well we really want to help you but it will make it harder if you don't attend.'
I know that! Does she think I'll put the few measly hours I work on hold to attend some arty farty group therapy on mood management though? Would you? I've got plans and goals to reach and I can't let something like this sidetrack me from where I want to go. So I suggest that it might be better if I just continue to see the psychologist I've recently been referred to and she heartily agrees.
'I'll be in touch if any of the course times change and in the meantime I'll let the psychologist know of the outcome.'
I thank her for the coffee and leave. The light rain douses my spirits further and above me the sky is churning fiercely. I still don't get it but I figure she can get stuffed anyway because I showered and got made up for this and told her what I was capable of doing and what I wasn't. That means I filled my end of the bargain so I can go back and tell family and friends that I tried.
One day, I'll tell them about the psychologist I just started seeing but not until I lose it under the right circumstances.