Last night, after an awesome yoga class, I spent time with a dear friend, C, as she was on her way off a nearby island and traveling north on mainland for a conference. She and I met at a local pub and enjoyed some cider and tapas before she came home with me, played and sang beautifully on her guitar and we talked for hours, and then she spent the night. She was up early this morning to continue her travels, and it was so nice to see her.
But I didn’t sleep more than two hours last night. I’m Seroquel/drug free (and proud of it) but I am so groggy today. Last week’s medically-induced slumber was a great pinch-hitter to get me out of the deep/dark/twisty place I was in, but my exhaustion is still cumulative and present. I could barely get myself out of bed this morning and into the shower and was not even excited by the 2lb loss I saw on the scale when I weighed in. My blood pressure has been reading 88/60 for over a week now, and I have been struggling not to fall over when I stand from lying down. This was especially an issue last night in yoga when we were doing modified head stands. I hope I can find the energy (and the blood pressure!) to do a better job in Pilates tonight than I did last week.
I have to hold out for April 3 when I meet Dr. Johnson, the new psychiatrist. I am going to ask him to see me and my medical record as tabula rasa; please don’t look at me and see diagnoses, please see me as a person who wants to chart new territory and get to the root of the problems. I want to start over with him and just examine the facts, not the assumptive diagnoses. I truly believe that my many head injuries need to be taken into consideration, and it’s sad/funny to me that Robert (therapist) is the first professional to remember that I’ve had brain trauma and consider that as part of my story and mental health… and he isn’t even an MD! It is such an astute and obvious connection to make but noone has made it up until now.
I’m going to hang on. It’s my only option.
