Exhausted

Tomorrow sees the end of almost 6 months of holidays. I go back to uni, but not only that, I’m starting a new uni. New people, new classes, new teachers, new campus. New. Different. Unknown. I’ve been arsing around all night trying to put things on my desk just the way I like them. Nothing seems to be in the right spot. Not quite sitting right. Not quite how it should be. Trouble is, I have no idea what I want it to be like. I’ve given up for tonight. I’m writing this post, sending an email, taking a shower and crawling into bed where I’ll fool myself into thinking I can lie there with the blankets over my head and pretend this week didn’t exist at all. It’s Monday and I’m already tired of it.

Today I spent the day putting all my thoughts and energy onto someone else. Focusing on them, helping them, making sure they’re okay. Giving someone else all my love and attention. Holding their hand and doing what needs to be done to make sure they’ve got all the support they need. Helping to hold the safety net beneath them, or even to hold them up as they tentatively make their way across the tightrope that is recovery.

Now, I feel like I need… Something. Anything to detract from the lingering thoughts in the back of my mind. Anything to distract me from the suffocating black pushing its way into my head. The depression has set in harder than ever the last two-three weeks. I’ve been overwhelmed by all the appointments, the hassle of organising uni, the fear that a friend is struggling and I’m not going to be able to do enough to help them. This is where I throw myself into everything that opens up and fill my diary with commitments and activities. This is where I try to pretend that I can handle it. This is where I bite off more than I can chew.

The incessant nagging voice in my head at the moment is becoming unbearable. Screaming constantly at me, reminding me how fat and disgusting I am. Just in case I’m likely to forget. Which I’m not. Especially not when I seem to be constantly surrounded by reflective fucking surfaces. Reminding me that I’m not worthy of this position at uni, or my treatment team’s time. That I’m pathetic and worthless and useless and vile. That I’m selfish and greedy. That it’d be better if I fucked right off. So would everyone around me. I wish She would just FUCK OFF! It’s draining enough to get through the day without the constant chatter. I’m beyond terrified about starting at this new uni tomorrow.

Uni aside, this week is a big one as it is. I have my second appointment with the eating disorders service at a hospital near by. I’m scared of what this appointment will involve. My last one saw me leave in tears and being unable to recall what I did between leaving the office and making my way home. I’ve only partially disclosed to them my history of sexual assault. I’ve not told them who the perpetrator was. I haven’t told them the full extent of the effects it’s had on me. I’ve only mentioned it briefly before changing the subject. I’m not looking forward to that conversation at all. This time though I’m going to have someone come along for support before and after the appointment. Apart from that I’ve got to see my psychologist and GP. I’ve got to function like a normal person and drag my fat arse out of the house every day to avoid getting myself stuck in the trap I create when I isolate myself.

All I want at the moment is for everything to stop feeling so stifling and suffocating. For it to stop feeling like I’m dragging my feet through quick sand every day. For the dark to be lifted and the heavy black to subside. For things to be less of an effort and more of an experience. For life to come naturally and become exciting and interesting. For the pain, not only mine but that of my darling friends, to ease and things to become a little easier. I can’t help but feel pure fury at the universe for being so cruel. I want to be in control again.

I’m exhausted with needing to pretend all the time.

I’m exhausted.

Just keep chugging on.

So, apparently, my care team (and myself) need to start stepping things up, a LOT. This is what my psychiatrist tells me. “I have a feeling that you’re getting tired and tired of making safety plans and getting frustrated with needing to” he says. “I’m really concerned that we’re not doing enough to keep you safe and to help you. We need to step things up for you.”

Yep. I’m sick of needing everyone to be constantly watching me. I’m sick of knowing that they have good reason too. I’m sick of feeling like I’m living my life fighting just enough to keep my head above water. I feel like I’m spending more time under water desperately trying to fight my way towards the surface and less time breaking through and taking a deep breath of fresh air and catching my breath. Spending more time encapsulated by the blackness and less time appreciating the tiny little ray of sunshine that’s decided to make an appearance around the edges.

The psychiatrist doesn’t want me to do my exams or clinical placement that are coming up in the next three weeks. “You’re too tired, I really want you to spend some time just looking after yourself, I’m concerned if you take on the stress of exams and placement, you’ll hinder your situation rather than help things.” I defiantly folded my arms and told him that not doing the exams and placement wasn’t an option. I’ve worked too hard to get through this semester as it is, I’m not going to back out 3 weeks from the end. Not going to have to redo all my hard work next year and add another 12 months to my degree. No, just no. I’m not going to stop uni and waste the last 13 weeks just because I can’t get my shit together. Regardless of how logical his argument is, sitting at home staring at the walls with nothing to fill in the time between appointments is not going to do me any good right now. I’d rather keep myself busy for a while. Keep going.

Keep pretending, keep up the façade. Just gotta keep chugging along.

Productive Procrastination

I’m currently procrastinating and doing a damn good job at it. I’ve actually been consciously procrastinating all day. From the moment I got out of bed, knowing I had an assignment to do and one of my units to complete by tomorrow, I planned a million things I could do instead of doing those assignments. I started off by cleaning my house, rearranging my bedroom and tidying the kitchen/lounge. I swept the drive way and moved my car. Then I sat down for a few minutes trying to make myself do some of my work. It didn’t last any longer than half an hour, then I was back inside setting up my play station and installing Sims 3 on my computer. Then I  played sing star. Cooked lunch. Played Sims. Then I sat in the sun and read for hours. Played solitaire (with actual cards, not on the computer), more sims, cooked toast and did 3 loads of washing.

You’d think after all that I’d have achieved nothing today, right? Nope. Wrong. Somehow, in between all of that I did actually manage to complete that unit and write half of my assignment. Without even realising yet when I sit down to make an effort on my work, I achieve nothing. How does this work? The. Most. Productive. Procrastination. Ever!

I have an appointment with the psychiatrist tomorrow, Quite frankly – I’m shitting myself. I don’t want to relay my history. All over again. I don’t want to be in a room with a guy I don’t know. I don’t really want to hear what he has to say (A.k.a. – the truth).

I’m still not sleeping very well. In an attempt to stop feeling so claustrophobic at night I’ve pushed two single beds together to give myself room to stretch out. I still struggle to get to sleep, then wake 3 or 4 times and then as 3am rolls around, I’m wide awake and spend the next few hours waiting for a decent hour to get out of bed. I still feel totally and utterly encapsulated by the smothering blackness. I still feel like everything is too much of an effort.

My anxiety has been increasing gradually over the last few days. It’s reached a point tonight where my chest feels so constricted I want to vomit and my legs feel like I’m on a boat. My head is racing, hands shaking. The only thing I can think of that could be causing this anxiety is tomorrow’s appointment and if that’s what it is – this is a completely ridiculously over the top reaction, MissL!!!

I’m counting down the days until this semester is over. I wish it was done right now, I don’t have the energy or motivation to do these exams or stupid clinical placement. I don’t have the energy to give a shit about my degree right now, all I want is sleep and some degree of peace and calm. Is that too much to ask?

 

Arse Over Head

I have had the craziest couple of days, finally sitting down at my desk for 5 minutes for the first time since Wednesday, I’m just starting to process how full on it really was. On Wednesday I’d planned a study date with Cassie (which of course means play date in L & Cassie speak!). We had lunch in the shopping centre, went to the play ground and played on the super cool equipment (cue bruise number 1) and then headed to Gloria Jeans to ‘Study’. On the way back we decided to go see what the beach was like and went to the headland for a look. We spotted a fisherman on the rocks and were trying to work out if he was young and good looking or old with young looking legs. “His legs do look really young” I say. Suddenly I’m arse up in  the air, heading for the footpath, iPhone in one hand and handbag in the other. By some miracle both items landed upright and unharmed. Meanwhile, I’m still nose diving for the footpath, unable to catch myself, smacking my head, falling sideways onto my shoulder blade, then my hip and somehow grazing both my knees as I slide down the slope. It hurt. A lot. But it was fucking hilarious.

Think it might have looked something like this, but replace the cool, soft snow with hot pavers.

As I tried to regain some sort of dignity, Cassie is almost wetting herself with laughter. “You’ve gotta laugh. If you don’t laugh, you’re gunna cry” I thought to myself. So I burst out laughing and there we were. Sitting on the walking track around the headland, one with a bloody knee, foot and red shoulder blade, holding her forehead and laughing, the other in stitches trying to ask if I was okay. Man, I wish I’d had one one of those out of body experiences so I could see just was I looked like. I literally went arse over head. When we’d regained some degree of composure we headed home. You’d think the saga was over then, right? Nope. Not I. I don’t do things by halves. By the time we’d got into the car and started driving I had a raging headache and my stomach was churning. We got home and I had a shower and cleaned up and Cassie was getting worried about my head, thinking maybe I had a concussion. I debated for a while, saying I was fine, but when my head wouldn’t stop spinning I got a tad worried too. We called the nurses hotline, followed their advice and off to the ED we went, feeling like a complete and utter fool.

The ED was as boring and uneventful as watching the grass grow. I was triaged, they were worried that my left pupil was fully dilated and my resting BP was 154/87. Regardless, they sent us back to the waiting room to wait for a doctor. When I was finally seen I’d started to perk up again and was feeling better. The Dr said my head was fine, and seemed more worried about the grazes on my knee and feet. After they were dressed we were sent on our way, with strict instructions that I wasn’t to stay alone that night, so off to Cassie’s we went.

Thursday I woke with one incredibly stiff knee and an ache in almost every joint possible. Cassie and I spent most of the day in the rainforest with our text books pretending to study, then I had a driving lesson in traffic that can only be described as ‘Fucking insane” and came home to get ready for Thirsty Merc. Talk about exhausting. That was a great night, despite the wait for the band to actually come on stage, the drunken dancers who had NO perception of personal space and the guy who came and grabbed me and consequently ended up with a glass of water down his shirt. Apparently I was the bad guy there, getting abused for ‘wetting my fuckin’ shirt you slut. Keep ya fuckin’ drink in ya fuckin’ glass.” To which I promptly replied “Well then, you should keep YOUR hands in your pocket and OFF my body. Touch me again and you’ll be sorry you were ever born.” The abuse from his end continued until my aunty stepped in and told him exactly where to go. Other than that, I had a fantastic night, the band was amazing, the music was great and the company was lovely. I LOVED the feeling of the music from the speakers, which were literally a metre or two away from me, pulsing through my body. The not-so-coordinated movements from the audience and screaming the lyrics at the top of my lungs just ’cause I knew no one could hear me. They’ve always been one of my favourite bands, I’m so glad that they sound just as awesome live as they do on their records.

This week is going to be a crazy one for me. I have so much study to do it’s almost scary. Not to mention appointments to attend and classes to go to. My exams are exactly two weeks away. On Monday it will be two weeks until I leave for placement. I’m running out of time. I’m scared things are getting too full on again. I don’t want to get overwhelmed, just when I start to feel like I’m chugging along okay. I don’t want to derail right now, I need to keep my shit together.

I’m thinking about going back to work. I’m currently writing up a resume to hand in at Crazy Clark’s for a position over the Christmas period. Despite saying that things are getting too crazy again, I’m broke. But who is going to hire me when in two weeks I’ll be leaving for two weeks. No one. This Monday is my second last psychologist appointment that will be covered and I’m in no position to stop therapy. So I need to some how pull money out of the air to pay for that, not to mention find money for accommodation and food while I’m on prac. This whole being a grown up thing sucks. I wanna be 5 years old again with no responsibility. Or maybe just no mental illness that is costing me more than my life is worth.

Hit By A Truck

I really feel like I’ve been hit by a truck. I’m so emotionally drained and physically exhausted.  Our mental health presentation this morning went really well, everything went smoothly and our class was interested and engaged. We received a distinction (22.2/25) for the assignment. Although it went well and I was happy with it, I did find that I was easily triggered by small statements or even our own information. On the plus side there were no tears!!

I spent the afternoon with the lovely Cassie, driving around the outskirts of the city ‘exploring’. We went to the pet shop for ‘puppy therapy’ and then to the beach and had hot chips on the headland. We got stalked by hundreds of seagulls! They wouldn’t leave us alone. Among the seagulls were three magpies, we tried to feed the stray magpie’s among them because they were different and special. It was really cool to play with the magpies and get them to come up to us. I had the camera and snapped some pretty cool shots. It was all fun and games until the seagulls got cranky with us for not sharing our chips and left a lovely present on Cassie’s shoulder.

Tonight I need to revise my steps for the four possible scenarios that I might be given in tomorrow’s assessment task. Although I know how to do most of them, I really struggle with administering nebulisers and forget EVERY time record their resp rate and auscultate before I administer. Tomorrow afternoon I’m going to take some time out for myself, maybe take mum out to the beach and go for a swim in the wave pool if the weather is nice. Then this weekend I’m going to sit myself down and catch up on my Psychosocial unit and put together study notes for my exams at the end of the month. I have 5 weeks and 2 days until holidays. I just need to hold my shit together for those 5 weeks. I just wish I had time for the nervous breakdown that I feel I deserve!

Now, I’m going to do the dishes, iron my uniform for tomorrow and go over my step-by-step list of what I need to do tomorrow and then sleeeeeeeeep! So. Freaking. Tired!

Day 21: Something you’re proud of.

I’m proud of myself for sitting my anatomy resit exam today. Even if I don’t pass and do have to do the unit again next year, I’m proud of myself for giving it a go, taking a chance and working my butt off to follow my dream, despite everything else that’s going on. I’m proud that I got into today’s exam, pushed aside the ever growing anxiety and did the best I could. I’m proud of myself for trying. No matter what happens, no matter what my results – I did the best I could.

Sigh of Relief

The sigh of relief you breathe when you hear the exam supervisor say “time’s up” is possibly one of the most satisfying feelings I’ve ever felt. Knowing that the exam is over, and all the stress of preparation and pre-exam anxiety is behind you almost outweighs the impending results. I know that what’s done is done, if I pass – I pass, if not then so be it. I can’t change the results, so there’s no point working myself up over them. I think the exam may have gone okay. I still know that there was a lot that I wasn’t sure of and that my grades wont be exceptional, I’m just hoping for a pass.

Me at exam time - walk away quietly and no one gets hurt :p

I still have three exams in the coming weeks, my numeracy/nursing calculations exam, my theory component of my anatomy resit exam and my physiology mid session exam, some how I feel a strange sense of calm. I’m not stressed to the max like I usually am at exam time, I’m just doing one thing at a time and doing what’s possible for me. I still feel like I’m completely swamped, but I’m not too phased any more. It’s like today’s exam took up about 95% of my focus and I felt like that exam was so time consuming, that now it’s gone I realised how huge and demanding it was and how much that one exam had managed to over power me!

I realised this morning that I’d all but forgotten about an entire unit for this session. The unit is delivered on line, and there are no lectures or tutorials to attend, which means the little heading sits on my blackboard site waiting for me to click on it, unfortunately getting overlooked as I frantically navigate my way between anatomy, physiology, clinical and mental health. My priorities have shifted now that anatomy practical is out of the way and that poor, lonely little heading will get some of my attention this week.

I’m trying to decide what I want to do this afternoon. I’m so tired. So very tired. I couldn’t sleep at all last night, crashing out at about 330am, to be woken at 4 from nightmares, then snoozing until 0430 when I got too restless and decided to get up, shower and do my house work that I had planned for this afternoon. I could attack the neglected little psychosocial unit, but I think first I’m going to go and have a little power nap. Or I could just have a power nap and take the evening off – I think I deserve it after all the study I put in over the last few days, don’t you think?

xx

Second Chances

There have been lots of tears here tonight, but this time tears of relief. My unit assessor for Systemic Anatomy emailed me this afternoon and told me that she had reviewed a Special Consideration application that I submitted prior to sitting my exams to inform the school that I suffer from anxiety and that my exams may be affected as a result. On the basis of this she is offering me a resit of both my practical and my theory exam and on the grounds that I obtain 50% for both of the exams individually I will pass the unit. The resit exams will be in August, so this session I will practically be studying 5 units, plus working (which could turn into two jobs, if my interview last Wednesday was successful).

I’m getting really anxious about how I’m going to cope with the workload, considering how much I struggled last semester, but I’m determined not to fuck it up again. I know it’s going to be hard and I’m going to need a hell of a lot of help, but hopefully I can get through it.

Semester 2 starts tomorrow, and despite what I’ve just said, I’ve done no preparation. I haven’t even purchased my text books yet (although that has more to do with lack of funds than lack of motivation!). So with the fact that I’m unprepared, and that it’s almost like starting uni all over again, what with beginning four entirely new subjects, new classes and new teachers I’m just a little bit scared! But it will be okay. It will. It will. It will! (It has to be, Right? I can’t seriously managed to screw it up twice, can I? I know now how much effort I need to put in. I need to make myself do it. 14 weeks and the year is over. Who cares if I don’t sleep for 14 weeks, this semester I refuse to have a fail grade on my transcript.)

But I must admit, I’m feeling a little overwhelmed already!!

xx

The Interview

Today, I had my job interview at the nursing home where I did my clinical placement last week. It was the first time I was formally interviewed and to be honest, I was terrified. The director of nursing even told me to relax! But overall, I think the interview went okay. She was very impressed with my extensive work experience and even commented on my “brilliant work ethic”. A lot of the time was spent talking about why I wanted to work with them and what experience my previous work experience has given me. I’ll find out next week if I’ve been successful.

Semester 2 starts next week. I’m a little bit in denial that my holidays are coming to an end and a little bit scared about going back. It took me nearly all semester to get used to the classes and structure and routine from semester one and now I have to start again? Well, that is if I managed to actually pass all the units. I find out on Saturday. I’m really hoping I got through, I don’t fancy doing any of those units twice. I was looking through one of our units on black board today. It’s entirely online and self paced which means that there are no time limits for anything. That’s not a good thing for a chronic procrastinator such as myself. I know that this semester I really, really need to focus and make up a routine with allocated study times and actually stick to it. If, by some miracle I passed all my units, I can’t afford to fuck this semester up. I’m not making the same mistake twice!!

xx

Clinical; Day 3 – Opportunities

I am absolutely in love with clinical placement, my facility and nursing. I love the residents, I love the nurses, I love the facility in general and the way things are run. It’s such a friendly, happy, welcoming atmosphere. I think I spent the whole day with a huge smile on my face. Everything just felt right. This morning we had all the baths, sponges and showers done by 0930. Compared to other mornings when it’s been past lunch and residents still hadn’t had their showers. Our clinical teacher has given us a little bit more leash, letting us do bed sponges unsupervised. My friend M and I are working together. We’re such a brilliant team, we have fun, we love the residents and everything we do together just… works.

After all the showers were done, one of the other students (Also M!) and I were supervising residents in the dining room. Two of them are ‘wanderers’. One has tunnel vision, so is constantly running into things (he wears a helmet to prevent head injuries) so we had to push all the furniture against the wall and spent the next 45 minutes redirecting both of them so that they didn’t run into furniture or each other. It was quite funny, they’d make eye contact and we’d have to turn one of them around so they didn’t try and start fighting. It was almost like keeping two male fighting fish in the same bowl!!

I’m actually quite sad that there’s only 1 and a half days left. I’ve realised in the past few days how much I missed being in the nursing home and how amazing the residents could be. However, I was offered a job interview with the same facility this afternoon. It was pure coincidence – I had applied for a job there when I first moved for uni about 2 or 3 months ago. This afternoon at lunch, the NUM was in the  lunch room and she got a call. “So, she doesn’t want the interview?… Ok, call the other girl then.”  Two minutes later I had a voice mail. Asking me to come in next week for an interview. I looked at the NUM and we both laughed, and she offered to do the interview there and then, but we didn’t have enough time. Hopefully I’ve got my foot in the door now.

If I do get the job, I’m planning on keeping my agency work as well, even if it means dropping a few shifts. I’d like to keep working in community home care, it’s a great experience, but I think I’d get further and have more learning opportunities if I was surrounded by RN’s all the time, seeing what it is that they do. Let’s just hope my eyes aren’t too big for my belly and I don’t bite off more than I can chew!!

xx