I'm on a roller coaster ride at the moment. I've been up and down and just about all over the place.
I've sorted a few issues out, but some things still weigh heavily on my mind. A couple of weeks ago, my key worker (case manager) who has been working with me for 3 years transferred me over to someone else because of workload issues. It was all handled really well, so the negative fall out from it was not huge, even though I was not too terribly happy with it. I'm still getting to know my new case manager. The good thing is that she suggested getting me some anti anxiety medication (on a as need basis) to help with my anxiety and she was successful in getting the pdoc to sign for it whereas my old case manager was never able to get me anti anxiety meds. She seems rather pro active and interested (in me), which are pluses, I guess.
I went to watch Cats the musical over the weekend. It was pretty good. During intermission, the cats came around the audience floor and one got close enough to me for me to yank its tail. I was curious as to whether they came off easily (it didn't). In fact, that tail was really well adhered to its, um..., butt.
Over the weekend I also got this call from a woman I met when I was last in hospital back in June. It was weird, because I don't remember giving her my phone number and address (I'm usually so careful about my privacy), but apparently I must have. She sounded vaguely familiar as we talked, but I couldn't figure out what she was calling me for. She said we should get together for a coffee sometime. Um...OK. I don't even get together for coffee with people I KNOW, I don't know if I want to get together with this person I don't know. I think I must have asked her at one point why she was calling me, because she said that when she met me, she thought I was the kindest, most gentle person she'd ever met. OK, she probably meant drugged and doped out of my mind to the extent of appearing passive and meek as a lamb. She herself must have been on a cocktail of meds so I understand she couldn't have known the difference.
Anyway - it's really disconcerting when I do things I can't remember later on (like giving a complete stranger I meet at a psycho ward my phone and address details). But some things are simply black holes in my mind, thanks to the extreme stress of being ill and the endless cocktail of psychotropic drugs. It feels as though they are killing off parts of my brain in order to make some other parts work better. The trouble is, it's not always "better".