Where do you take a man on a date?

Seriously, I'm asking.

After a conversation with The Mister yesterday I've decided to take him on a date. It's a way for us both to go out and do something and it's also a bit of a way to say thanks for everything he's done to help me lately. I've been getting more and more crap news from the doctor with every visit and he's been right there still when I've needed him.

So, yeah, it's a sweet idea. Problem is that I have no idea where or what to do. I've been trying to go with things I know he loves in order to piece together a great day, but nothing seems to be working out properly.
His first love is guitars and music, but all those kind of events finished way back in June and no music museum seems to focus much on them. I had the idea of taking him to one of the biggest Gibson retailers in London then going off for a picnic somewhere but it doesn't sound that good.

He also loves food, so I thought about maybe going to borough market next week because he keeps nagging on about it. Problem with that is I'm planning to cook and he'll go mad and buy things to eat therefore he'll ruin my surprise.

He likes theatre but I can't find anything decent and cheap/free.
He likes history but not the kind you can find in an ordinary museum.

ARGGGGHHHHH!!! GOING MAD!!!

Things right now.

I've been on antidepressants for 5 days now and so far all they seem to do is make me restless an hour or so after I take them. I also seem to be getting more headaches than usual. I feel lower right now too but that could be anything. The doctor said they can take 2-4 weeks to actually kick in so I'm just playing the waiting game for now. I hate the fact that I'm on them and part of me wishes that I didn't agree to this.

I had blood taken on Monday morning because the doctor FINALLY wants to investigate all the sleep problems I have. Well I have been mentioning it for 8 years, y'know, I think it just might be time to actually see what the fuck is happening.
I had two nurses in with me, one senior and one student, but they were both useless. What should have taken 10 minutes tops took half an hour because they couldn't find a vein. When they eventually did, the senior nurse put the needle to my arm, looked away and started going "sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry..." as she pushed it in.
WHAT THE HELL?
As well as that I had to remind her to clean my arm first because she forgot and I've been left with a crappy bruise that could have been avoided.
Dad reckons not finding veins quickly enough is the sign of a crap nurse. I think I agree.
I've been donating blood since I was 18 and they've never had a problem and I've never had a bruise.

I now officially hate Wednesdays.
I see the psychologist at my mental health centre there every week for an hour and I can't stand it. She can see exactly what I did the last time I was there through reading my old files yet she doesn't and we go through the same crap I already did two years ago. I can see what's she's trying to do but I don't need to understand how to identify thoughts and mood - I'm well practised in that - I need to be able to get help feeling positive enough to change my thoughts.
This cognitive stuff is a bitch.

The IBS is getting worse.
If I get to hot, too cold, too stressed, to tired...it flares up.
I'm so pissed off with it now it's untrue. I can't venture out too far, eat what I want where I want, be too active in case I overheat.
I've been taking peppermint capsules and they seem to be helping with a fair bit of the pain but everything else is still a problem. I've had to miss out on a BBQ with The Mister and friends today because I don't want it to flare up in a strangers house.

Life just seems so stressy right now. I'm getting fed up.

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?