An Update on the State of my Nation…

It’s been a wee while since I’ve updated the State of my Nation. Not a lot has changed in the past few weeks, so I guess that’s why I’ve remained off the radar and just been posting mundane things – although I really loved Bert, the dog who’s owner used oven mitts to stop him from getting snow attached to his ears.

I’m still, (I think) progressing. I use ‘I think’ because frankly, I’ve had a couple of weeks where it’s been kind of hard to tell. Maybe I’ve just plateaued, or maybe I’ve come to a complete standstill. Or perhaps this is just a case of I’m expecting bigger things to happen than I’m seeing. Either way, I keep telling myself I can’t expect to get back to where I was six months ago, when the meltdown was so utterly and totally complete.

I tend to think more in the sense of what I ‘can’t’ do than adding up what I ‘can’. I think that is not helping, but once again, it’s a case of my head against me and my head seems to have the inside line to the finish line.

Steve and I have been holding discussions regarding ‘Deb on the new medication’ VS ‘Deb on the old medication’ – I’m seeing my GP this week and want to discuss it with her – but honestly, from where I’m at, I’m not certain whether the new medication is doing everything its supposed to do. My anxiety levels are still rocketing out of the stratosphere on a regular basis, and I didn’t have so much trouble with them on the old medication – but the breakdown has probably messed up all ability in myself to see whether I’m actually okay, or not and I imagine this would have happened whether I was on the new, or the old. Something to ponder with my favorite doctor on Monday. Steve, as the driving force in my life, and the purveyor of all information sensible (I have lost sensible somewhere along the way, and tend to teeter between complete panic and the fairyland where I’m not really focused on anything outside of getting through the day) suggests that I’m coping much better on the new medication than the old, so maybe it’s just a matter of time and trying to wrangle my anxiety levels back under control. I’ve come to accept that I need to rely on the anti-anxiety meds as well as the anti-depressants for the foreseeable future.

Bright notes – there are some. I accidentally drove the car on my own. Twice. Hated it, locked the doors and haven’t done it again, but I managed it. Only happened because I took Jack down to do his driving test and there was nowhere to park out the front of the building, so in desperation, had to drop him off and do a lap around Midland Gate. And then he came jogging back to where I’d parked to tell me we’d forgotten to sign his book, so I did it for a second time.

I survived Bonnie’s friends being here for her Birthday party, and even managed to deal with it from the lounge room, rather than hiding away in the bedroom as I’m prone to do with strangers. I’m beginning to be able to deal with the people who deliver the groceries and the parcels at the front door, although I’m not comfortable. The psychologist assures me we can desensitize me with time. (Lots of time.)

I met Steve’s Uncle Will, and then went and visited with him for a second time, and coped quite well. Managed my longest trip out of the house in six months. (Pathetic, but true)

Survived the trauma of releasing the first book since my life went all to hell. It was nerve wracking and stressful, but I did it. It was particularly tricky when everything I knew about how to self-publish seemed to have gotten auto-dumped from my brain in the meantime, so I had to relearn it all again – but I got there.

Have made multiple visits to my friend Michelle Dennis’s house up the road and helped her to prepare her new book for publication. Still haven’t managed to deliver myself to her house – but I think I might be getting closer and Steve will no doubt be delighted that he no longer has to drop me off for my playdates.

And lastly, I managed to have my writer’s group (who have been some of my biggest supporters in the past six months) over to visit for a get-together and chat, and last week, for our first 2015 meeting at MY house. It was a huge deal for me to cope with, but I did it and as usual – they gave absolute acceptance to my inability to remember the right words at times, and the fact that I just lapse into silence and do my deep breathing exercises when talking becomes too much to deal with. They are all awesome and deserve medals for dealing with my quirky self.