Three posts in two days?? Mummy, I’m scared! Ah, hang on, that’ll be the Brazil Espresso perfeito coffee…
I’m thinking I might completely change the style of my blog. Part of this is to do with Movable sodding Type 3.31, and the new default stylesheets being entirely different to the old ones. It wouldn’t be too bad, but the litte updates I’ve been planning for some time mean that parts of the script have to be completely rewritten. And I’ve had a lobotomy sometime since I last did this.
If it all comes together, there shall be some spiffy new links and a snazzy new background. If it doesn’t, you’ll find me throwing things at the computer and yelling that nothing ever goes fucking right. I’m not taking any bets at the moment.
I’ve also been considering what I write about. Obviously, the main reason I write is the whole panic and agoraphobia thing. However, I think it’s getting boring and I can’t help wondering whether people who happen on this blog for the first time think “woah, who’s this miserable bitch?” before wandering off again. Sometimes, things happen that give me a reason to write about happy stuff, but there’s not enough of it. There is so much that I’m interested in that I’m sure I can blend them into the mix to make a more appetising stew.
I hope you enjoy it, my myriad of readers – and that means both of you…

Let’s hope Mr Hutton doesn’t read this…

don’t get any ideas, Mr Secretary of State for Work and Pensions…
Granted, this is based in the US, and the person in question told her disability company about her blog, but it’s still something to think about. I’m quite proud of this blog, and the fact that I did a lot of the coding myself, and it wouldn’t take a genius to work out that it’s neither updated with great frequency or full of comments that could make me look like a fake, but you never know. Just look what That Doctor thought in December…
Good luck to “Madrigal of Agony”. It’s shit enough having a disability without having to prove it all the time…

Belay that worry, ensign

My two main fears about how the CBT is going have been lifted.
Last Thursday, I asked J about the dihydrocodeine and whether the knowledge of how my panic attack disorder and subsequent agoraphobia started would have changed the direction in which my treatment was going. I didn’t explain it too well (thanks to only 2 hours sleep the previous night) and he thought I meant “would he have had reservations about treating someone who got addicted to opiate analgesics?” Eventually, we both got our heads round what I was trying to say, and he told me that regardless of how it all started, the principle of the CBT is the same. *phew*
I then said I was worried about how long we had left for appointments. J reassured me that I wouldn’t be “chucked out the door” half way to getting better, and that if needs be, I can be referred to his supervisor, D, who did my initial assessment a year ago. He also said that he could offer me weekly appointments instead of fortnightly, which I have accepted.
I feel a bit better about it all, although I still feel like I’m doing one of those orienteering things where you have to fall back into someone else’s arms and trust that they’ll be there to hold you…

CBT Thoughts Part 3

Since my last appointment my head has been swimming with thoughts. Not necessarily about me, but about this “whole CBT thing”. It’s hard to write them down because there’s that telltale little voice yelling “you’re giving up!”. I’m not, though. Just voicing my thoughts.
There are a few things bothering me. Firstly, at my last appointment, my back was really sore, and I was hobbling a bit. J mentioned it, and I said that my old back injury flared up occasionally, but it wasn’t too bad. At the end, as I was getting up to leave, something was said that made me say something about “stupid bloody back and stupid bloody dihydrocideine addiction”. J stopped, and looked taken aback? surprised? one of them. I said, “you didn’t know about that?” and when he looked puzzled, I explained that it was coming off the dihydrocodeine that started the panic attacks. J said, “We can talk about that next time”.
Next time is tomorrow. J has had holidays, so it means there’s been a four week gap between appointments rather than two. In the meantime, of course, my mind has been working overtime over what this means. Part of me is frustrated and annoyed that this has never come up. Isn’t it in my notes? Maybe it’s not relevant, but if sudden dihydrocodeine withdrawal started all this, then surely it is relevant? Withdrawing from massive amounts of an opiate drug as suddenly as I did left me feeling raw – my senses and emotions were heightened to levels I’d never experienced, and I just wanted to hide until it all went away. I developed coping techniques (actually avoidance techniques) to try and stem the horrible feelings, and gradually I learned to cope with them. That’s left me where I am today – panicky and scared when I go out, those raw emotions bubble to the surface and I just want to hide again. That’s why I think it’s so relevant.
Secondly, I’ve been thinking about the fact that J is a psych student, and his placement at my hospital finishes sometime in September. This means that at worst, I have one or maybe two appointments after Thursday, and at best, three. I’m terrified that I’m going to be ‘discharged’ when I still need help. Okay, so this CBT can give me the foundations to work on, but there’s been lots of times lately where I’ve thought “hang on, J said I should do x, what happens if y happens?” Right now, I have the comfort that I will see him tomorrow and I can ask him. However, the fact remains that once those few precious appointments are gone, I’m on my own.
I guess the upshot is, I’m terrified of failure. Again.


this is a test post – I’ve finally upgraded to MT 3.31 and there seems to be some problems with it, so I need to know what works.
I’ll probably delete this at some point.