Meh.

I'm on antidepressants.

FUCK!

As well as that, I have to go for blood tests on Monday to make sure my feeling tired and run down isn't due to anything else and I have to see my doctor even more than before.
*Sigh*
I fucked up getting a sick note as well so I still have no source of income what-so-ever. Mum said she's coming with me on Wednesday morning to talk to her about it because I froze up when I tried today. After that I have to go to the psychologist for more of the same crap as every other time I've gone there.

Everything just feels like it's going wrong.

I'm also desperate to do a Masters in September but can't find money anywhere. The way I'm feeling right now means that it's stupidly difficult to get a job to help pay for such a thing.
I've been looking at bank loans but the repayments are harsh.

Urrgghhh, let me sleep.

I'M A GRADUATE!!!

OH MY FUCKING FUCKSOCKS...I DID IT!!!!!

It's taken me a couple of days to write a blog about it because I've not come down from the experience much until now. I've been floating around with a whacking great smile on my face since Friday afternoon and going through my photos about a million times a day.

I got ready for the ceremony at about 10 in the morning to do my hair and make-up (hair took forever since the hairdresser from hell got her hands on it again. She layered my fringe...WHAT THE FUCK?). I managed to get the last of the blister plasters I'd bought and stuck them all over my feet before The Mister buzzed my door.
Unfortunately I was feeling a combination of nerves and the last agonising stabbing pains of the same damn IBS attack from a couple of days before, so I felt awful before we left and during the hour car journey to Guilford.

When we got there and finally managed to park up, we had to walk to the Austin Pierce building of the university to get out tickets and don the robes. I had a grumpy sod dress me.

He shoved my robes on then yanked the hood over my head and popped the mortarboard down really fast on my head (seriously, it made a clunking noise). After that I found my parents and The Mister who proceeded to go "Awwwwwwwwww" at me and shove cameras up my nose.

After that - and after Mum bought me a graduation bear - we wandered around campus looking for the walkway to the cathedral. There were soooo many stairs and my hood kept coming off of my button and strangling me.
We all filed into the Cathedral - my parents and The Mister running to try and get front row seats - and I wandered along to my aisle where I was given a card with my name on and instructions on what to do once I get up to the stage. My parents wasted no time in standing up from their seats to take photos of me sitting down and talking to a student I'd never met before but who looked just as cacky-pants as I did.

The organist was AMAZING!!

Oh, he couldn't hit all the notes for shit but he started playing film theme tunes. We sat through a medley of Phantom of the Opera, Flight of The Navigator, Star Wars, Jurassic Park and, when all the important chancellor people were walking in and we all had to stand, the guy started playing the Superman song. I'm still saddened by the fact that he didn't play the Hogwarts theme.

The ceremony was as expected. Old people in iffy hats nagged on about how amazing we all were. Then the hand shaking thing commenced.

After that, it was time to officially put on our hats and file out of the Cathedral.
I met Radish, Sprout and Patricia outside along with all their parents (mine had wandered off and gotten lost somewhere). More photos happened of course:

Everyone else went into the tent thingy for booze after that. I, however, ran back down to the Austin thingy building with Mum to get my official photos taken as I thought I'd fucked it up and left it too late. I had ones on my own take - at first without a fringe which looked disgusting - then decided I wanted ones done with my parents and Ben so I called them and they came down to have them taken with me. Mister was soooo unusually quiet, which was odd.

After the photos it was pretty much time to give the fancy dress back which I really didn't want to do at all. After that it was back to the car and back home. My day was over far too quickly.

I can't believe I actually did it. Without falling up/down the stairs.

An update.

So I haven't said much for a bit.
That's generally because I've been concentrating on my health.

I still see the doctor every couple of weeks and I've finally started sessions with a psychologist at the mental health centre. I don't have the best feeling ever about the appointments - I'll have 8 in total - but I'm pretty much going along with anything that holds off being stuck on Prozac.
I've been given things to do in the run up to my second assessment appointment next week. She's given me two chapters from a book about managing anxiety and I have a mood chart to fill out every hour. I have to write down what I did in that hour then mark my mood from 0 - 100 (0 being so crap I can't move and 100 being a floating on air type thing).
It's horrible because I have to write EVERYTHING. I even have to write if I have sex and what my mood was with that.......I hate that. I've left the squares blank because I don't want to write it.

That aside, I've had an ok week.
My parents have been on holiday so I've had The Mister staying here with me. It's been nice even though he's spent the last two days looking after me because I've had an IBS attack that just wont go away (yeah, I have that now too). I'm trying everything from changing the food I eat and cutting things out to taking peppermint oil capsules. I think the oil is doing something...nothing major but the pain seems to fade off for a while after I've taken them.

Back to the free house...
Before they left, mum and I drove up to my aunt's in Lincolnshire with the dog so she could look after him over the break. I spent time with my Granddad on the day we got there then spend a few hours with my uncle Billy before we left. I LOVE him so so much and was so happy I got to spend time with him. He looks so frail now that I try to make every effort to talk to him when I can because going all the way there to see him is a problem.
We sat in a dim room drinking, listening to Hawkwind and talking about music. He gave me £100 to play with as well. I tried to give it back but he refused.

Tomorrow is graduation day and I'm excited but nervous at the same time. I've spent the evening getting my plasters ready for my shoes and making sure I have all my letters and parking permits in one place.
I have such a horrible feeling that my gown won't fit. Probably a stupid fear but I can't shake it off.
Good news is that I somehow managed to get an extra ticket, so my parents are coming to see it along with The Mister. I never thought that would happen.

Anyway, I'm off to get something to eat.

Byyyyeeee xxx

I'm Graduating.

With a 2:1.


You have no idea how fucking pleased I am about thaat!

Dilema

I'm having a bit of one.

Basically, a week from now I have my usual two week "Have you slit your wrists yet?" check up with my doctor.
She asked me to use these two weeks to really have a think about taking the antidepressants she keeps offering me. This is the dilemma.
I am fed up of feeling tired and sad and angry and stressed out all the time, but I'm so afraid of the side effects that it's really stopping me from wanting to touch them (let alone pay for them out of my dwindling funds).
If I choose to take them then I'll be on the things for 6 months/1 year and...and...I just don't know.

Just look at what I mean:

Dry mouth
Urinary retention
Blurred vision
Constipation
Sedation (can interfere with driving or operating machinery)
Sleep disruption
Weight gain/loss
Headache
Nausea
Gastrointestinal disturbance/diarrhea
Abdominal pain
Inability to achieve an erection
Inability to achieve an orgasm (men and women)
Loss of libido
Agitation
Anxiety

See, now I already have abdominal pain, am having investigations carried out for IBS, fall asleep all the time, have an ever lowering sex drive and can never get "over the edge" anymore, can never sleep properly and suffer with an Anxiety disorder.
I am am near bricking it about having whatever the hell she wants to give me making all that so much worse.

But I also hate how much living seems to hurt. I'm on the waiting list to see the practise councillor and to see a psychologist at the mental health centre. Problem is that the waiting lists are so long and my patience with feeling this way is getting increasingly shorter.

I hate this. Why can't I be happy?

I

Almost broke up with The Mister last night.

When the words were coming out of my mouth my brain - at least I think it was - jumped in and cut my sentence off.
It's cliche but I literally choked on them. They clumped together at the back of my throat, tangled around each other, and blocked the way.







I've been told not to make major decisions until I'm recovering

So the deal at the moment.

I had my appointment and the doctor has now decided that I have to go back to the mental health centre to see a psychologist again. She's put my name down on the waiting list, but it can take up to 9 weeks before I get seen so I'm being left on the practise councillor's waiting list and I have to see the doc every two weeks until someone sees me.
I refused medication again but she wants me to reconsider my choice and said I can make an emergency appointment at any time if/when I'm ready. She's also sending a message to the mental health care centre at my local hospital so if at any time I can't cope or lose it completely I can be taken there and will have a room to stay in (it didn't come to that when I was suffering worse than this so I shouldn't need a room).

That's my crazy lady news anyway.

Normal life hasn't exactly picked up much. I'm still stuck at home most of the time without much to do but The Mister has taken more time to call or text me on the days where we can't see each other. It's a start on what I yelled at him about last week but I've yet to see any extra time spent with me properly. He did come and meet me after I donated blood yesterday, stayed calm in a room full of giant needles and bought me a lot to drink as I kept feeling wobbly. He took me home, cooked and stayed with me for a few hours until he had to run to meet the band.
It was funny when he came to meet me. Him rushing from work teamed with the heat made him look awful. He came in, walked over to where I was sat and a nurse immediately ran up to him, pulled out a chair and offered him something to drink.

"I haven't donated, I'm just picking my missus up."
"Oh...are you alright though? you don't look very well at all."
"It's just the heat. I'm fine."
Lady laying on an emergency bed who had not long come around from passing out: "Haha, he needs this bed more than I do."
Strange man nursing a coffee: "Boy just needs a tan!"
"I got 3rd degree burns from the sun when I was a kid. I don't like intentionally tanning."
"Get Shell to slap some fake stuff on you."
"She'll make me streaky on purpose."
Me: "SLANDER!"

That was ever so slightly amusing. Just the fact that he looked worse than all of us lot who had just had a pint of blood taken in the heat.

I've put my cheque in the bank now so I'm waiting for that to clear so I can book mine and Emz's spa day. She needs to give me £50 so I can put that in and pay the lot on lastminute.com
I'm looking forward to being pampered.