I’m currently still a mess so if some of what I write doesn’t make sense please give me a pass today. I think I deserve it. You might as well by the end of this ramble if you even get to the end anyway. I just need to get it out, might help.
You know I’m on medication for my manic depression. This whole blog is about it, about my struggles managing it, the effects it’s had on friendships and love life and even bonding with my minion in the beginning. I’ve been on and off them (the meds that is), I’ve tried the holistic thing, the dietary thing and the exercise thing, even tried them all together to no avail only to be confirmed by a homeopathic practitioner that bipolar is unfortunately one of those things that are really hard to treat/manage without medication.
I’ve realised I need to be on them. It’s just the reality of it. Some people take them for a while and their body starts to produce the chemicals, other like me have to be on them for always. It sucks that I have to depend on medication to stabilize me, I hate it actually but I know it doesn’t make me a weaker person or a bad mom. Being able to admit I need them is pretty big I think. I also know it’s genetic so if Fysh has inherited the gene at least I know I’ll be able to support him and explain things so he understands it’s not his fault.
Well my medication costs me roughly R3000 a month and will probably go up as I stabilize and my body starts building up a tolerance/immunity or whatever it’s called against it. Yeah… so as an only parent with one income and NO maintenance (or any sign of it in the future) with debt coming out of her effing ears as well as the usual living expenses you can imagine that paying that every month is one of the contributing factors as to why I tried the whole “sans meds” thing…
Dr wrote me a letter to take to the government clinic to try get my medication from them so that I can spare myself the cash. I know a few friends who get theirs like that and they say they pay maybe R100 or R200 a month which is a whole lot more manageable so I decided it was worth the shot.
I dropped Fysh off at school and then headed to our local clinic, sat there from 06:30 till they opened at 07:30 which put me first in line. Only to be told they don’t deal with adults only babies (be nice if they had signage saying this) and they sent me to the Dunoon clinic. I stood in the queue from 07:45 till just after 8 then had to wait till 9ish to get my file made up and filled out. I put my folder thing in the box that I was told to and took a seat on the floor (cause the first hour I waited I was glared at constantly as I was the only white person there) and got my book out.
I waited. And waited. And waited.
Eventually, 3 hours later one of the sisters came out and asked if I’d been helped when I said no she told the other sister she’s seen me sitting here for hours so she’s going to grab my file and help me. Yeah… this is when shit really went wrong. Turns out I was (yet again) at the wrong clinic. I was supposed to go to the psychiatric clinic in Rugby. But she got the Dr to sign off for 2 weeks worth of prescription then put it on top of the pharmacy pile. I finally thought *yay* until the pharmacist told me he can’t help me at all cause they aren’t allowed to give out the medication I’m on and don’t even stock it. I took my papers and left.
Aaaaaaaand commence breakdown.
It might sound stupid to some but after sitting through this from 06:30 in the morning already to spending 5 hours in a closed area, not able to eat anything, taking my meds late and being surrounded by a hundred people glaring at me, so many screaming babies and a mountain of smells that ranged from alcohol and cigarettes to dirty diapers, sweat and too much perfume I simply couldn’t anymore. My hands wouldn’t stop shaking and I couldn’t breath. Anxiety and sensory overload hit hard. I sat in the car crying.
My boss is amazing and more understanding than any other I’m sure. I messaged him after I’d calmed down and let him know what was going on. He told me to come to the office so I did then he sat me down and let me vent, afterwards he gave me a packet of soup and told me to go have some coffee and just sit still for a while. Then he also told me that he’ll give me tomorrow morning off as well so that I can go to the *right* clinic and make an appointment.
This morning sucked.
I’ll get to illustrating this soon as I’m home tonight. Right now my hands are still shaking too much to actually draw anything half decent.