Things this week that have made me unnecessary sad but can fuck right off

1. My diabetes

Stupid I know. It is my fault that it has been so poorly managed recently but as I said in a previous post I am having my “why is it happening to me” phase now. My doctor was sympathetic and very nice about it but she did point out it could be much much worse – I could have other illnesses on top of this that could be extremely debilitating or life-limiting. I am thankful that it is *just* diabetes. However this doesn’t change the fact that I have to carry out the work of an organ that most people don’t have to think about and my foot will fall off if I carry on the way I am now (my last HbA1c percentage was awful >.<) and I felt really bad for feeling so sick of it when I know a lot of people have it far worse than me. Thank you doctor. She has arranged for me to be seen by a psychologist to help me manage it better with my mood swings and potentially reintroduce me to antidepressants. YAY. Though I do need to get better at this I would still like to be able to wear shoes.

2. University

I have some lovely friends on my course who I will be living with next year but I can’t help but feel like everyone else finds me incredibly annoying. I think they see me as the thick one who doesn’t try. I do. I really really do. Unlike you, I know what it’s like to fail exams repeatedly even when you’re trying your hardest to ensure that you get a half-decent grade. I have a mind like a sieve so I have to do a lot more work than you guys to retain information. Please don’t think I’m lazy.

I also feel like the friends I made last year don’t have the same enthusiasm I do to remain friends when I leave. I have to move to another house because of my placement year and won’t be living in the city any more.  I don’t feel they make the same effort (sounds a bit like I’m hard work I’m not always I promise) as they did last year with me. I don’t get invited out with them, I don’t even have much conversation with them. I don’t want to be left out next year but I feel like our relationship now is just a taster of what’s to come next year – we’ll have nothing to do with each other. I don’t want that. I can still visit on weekends (I very  much doubt they’ll venture into the countryside just to see me!) and I’ll (hopefully) still be with my boyfriend who is living with them!

3. My head still isn’t well. That is all.

I sound like such a typical whiney girl.

So it’s been a while.

First of all-Sorry. I haven’t thought to write recently as I’ve not felt entirely up for it and knew if I started a piece of writing it would end up just being left unfinished and not making too much sense.

However right now seems appropriate, I’ve been declining into an awful place and have virtually given up on attending lectures and doing revision and am basically being a rather shit student. It’s 12.30pm and I am in bed, having only woken up and hour ago and thus missing my lectures for today (I’ve not been to one so far this week. Oops.) It makes it worse when people on your course are picking up lecture notes for you and you still haven’t seem them to collect them and everyone thinks you’re a lazy c**t who can’t be bothered with it all and want to blow 9 grand a year just having a good time. Wrong. I’m lazy, yes, but not because I can’t be bothered and think I’ll breeze through the exams. I know I’m failing. I know I’m not good enough. So what’s the point in attending lectures when I won’t concentrate and I’ll be shit anyway? I fall asleep in lectures because I have absolutely no energy. I don’t understand what’s going on. So….there.

I also started therapy with student services. Yup. I decided to make an appointment and got told I could have an initial assessment, but it could be up to 6 weeks for an appointment. Low and behold, my 20 minute assessment turned into an hour long session with immediate therapy sessions starting the next week and a note to go to the gp and get myself looked at.
So I did.
My doctor is absolutely lovely. She’s my diabetes specialist as well whilst I’m at uni and she doesn’t bullshit. I filled out a questionairre for her to rank my depression levels and apparently I’m at a level where antidepressents could work for me, and I have the prescription for citalopram sitting on my bedside table.
Now she said it’s up to me whether or not to go and get the pills.
Up to me…..DECISIONS.
Can’t she just say if I need them? I mean she kinda has, but this choice thing makes me think I don’t really need them. Do I? No? EUGH.
I found a post I did last year on medication when the topic first came up. *Copy and paste and slightly edit*

“I have type 1 diabetes, where my pancreas decided, so no valid reason, to give up on me and stop producing the hormone insulin. I now have little prefilled syringes of NovoRapid and Lantus which are destined to sit in my fridge until the day that I die, and have to prick my finger to test my glucose levels. Fun. Combining my two favourite things: blood and needles. Your levels can also go haywire when ill, which I always.on making it difficult to steady the levels. The perfect disease for me-the needle and blood phobic sneezing pile of ill. yaaaaay
A form of self harm is to overdose on insuline, induce a hypo and faint. You can also go the other way and stop the injections all together, go in ketoacidosis (spelling?!) fall into a coma and die. The idea is to keep a happy medium but this is not always at the forefront of thought when you are anything but “happy”. Which leads nicely onto depression.
Only today (October 2012) did I get told I.might be referred to a doctor for medicinal help, something im not too keen on. Granted it may be useful-I’ve had depression for 5 ( Now 6) years and counseling hasn’t had the desired effect-but the idea of controlling the chemicals within my body artificially seems silly. Ok. Hypocrite. I technically do it already with the insulin, so surely antidepressants would be the same, right? I mean all I’m doing is providing my brain with they serotonin that my body is failing to produce enough of. Diabetes=depression, just different chemicals.
No?
To be perfectly honest it’s the stigma. When I was diagnosed with diabetes all of 3 months ago (17 months now!), I was bombarded with messages saying “oh em gee I did not realise.you were so unhealthy!” even the nurses on my ward were banning.food from me and telling.me I can never drink again and I.must avoid sugar OR I WILL DIEEEEEE. Not true, apparently, the diatician told me, but the misunderstanding that my diet and lifestyle caused this is still there. I’m not overweight but people still ask if I am. I eat healthily (ok I just ate a massive muffin and I am eyeing up.some crisps right now, shhhh). I.go to the gym…sometimes. BASICALLY I’m not.an obese cake wielding couch potato. But people think I am. Stigma.
So surely people will think I’m completely unstable and desperately suicidal if I swallow happy pills everyday? I certainly don’t want people to view me any more weirdly than they already do. I think the transition from therapy to medication would even make me more socially awkward and confined to my bed for fear of the pills completely altering my mind and making me all hermit like. From what I’ve heard they can make you emotionless (already am) suicidal (yep, that’s me) headachey (erm…running theme here) and nauseous (diabetes does that, so got that too) so basically, i’ll be in the same boat I already am, just with a lovely big “DEPRESSED” stamp on my medical history.”

So there was my initial take on antidepressants. Still fits, I guess. I probably wouldn’t tell anybody about the medication, certainly no family members and few friends I would trust with such information. I just don’t want to not take them and not potentially get better, but also don’t want to just…because.
I should proably venture outside for a bit. Bleh.

A horrible realisation

I’m sorry I haven’t written anything in a while – my sleeping has been kinda messed up and the last thing I’ve wanted to do is sit in front of my computer when I could snooze in bed. This past week I was contacted by a guy I went to school with. I hadn’t seen him in a year, and even at school we only really exchanged the odd “hello”. Nothing more. Yet somehow I have ended up his councillor. I won’t go into details about the stuff he told me because it was far too personal but I just don’t understand. Why, of all people, ring me? Last time he spoke to me over facebook he insulted my friends and acted like an arsehole. Now he’s telling me all his problems and wanting to meet up. Something I’ve never done and never will.

I told my councillor about this. Her first reaction:
“This guy fancies you”.

Cool.
Second reaction:
“Do you not see? Every bit of advise you are giving him you don’t take yourself.”
Well. I don’t think many people take their own advise. If we did nobody would be suffering and we’d all be happier people.

I went out later that night. I was already feeling awful having heard this and dancing in a club made it 20x worse. It should have been good. The club was playing the alternative music I like. There were so many guys who I saw and went “ohmigod why are you so hot and tattooed and into the same music as me?!”. Instead, I ended up drinking too much and dancing like a tramp and looking like a desperate whore. Well maybe I am. I wouldn’t have said no. I would’ve gone off with any one of those guys and done stuff I’ve never ever done before. (3 guesses) I ended up going home and picking at scabs and opening up old cuts. I couldn’t go with the traditional razor blade way as my friend stayed over as she couldn’t get home. Cos I’m a fucking dirty alcoholic slut who will forever be alone. Yes, it’s one of those posts.