I have an self imposed early start in the morning as I am travelling over to MFK to collect some roofing felt. A fair distance for something readily available at most DIY stores, however building my workshop from recycled plastic boards poses unique problems and I need to use adhesive felt. Using heat or nails are a non starter and after working out the cost of using paint on adhesive for 20 msq and then felting comes out at far more than travelling to see the concrete cows to collect some damaged rolls at £2.50 a metre.
Anyway that is news for tomorrow, today the focus was on an appointment to see a real psychiatric consultant. This had been arranged by my solicitors as part of the assessment for damages. I feel I have turned the corner on the black days of April and May but a relatively light scraping of the surface with some very good questions showed that the demons are still there, waiting another opportunity to create havoc with my mental health. Without cutting to the cheeseboard and missing out the main course of my blog, it became very apparent that I do need help and that this help won’t come cheap but can I afford another session of how I was, with the thoughts I was having? Maybe in five or ten years when the dust and the insurance settles I could afford to get the treatment, in the meantime I’d best keep calm and keep taking the tablets.
The medical started with a look at how I was before the accident, then moved onto the accident and then how I am now. The Doctor was very thorough and had researched my history first, it was a totally different approach to anything previously. However it also revealed things I had forgotten , things I had hidden away, things too painful to consider. When the accident occurred it allowed an old wound to open. I haven’t had nightmares about the cycle accident but I have had plenty about the other matter, barely a week goes by and the nightmare has evolved, almost into a video of the incident. This nightmare was misinterpreted, a dreamlike euphemism , rather than being taken at face value. It wasn’t dealt with properly at the time, just buried away waiting for the moment to come back. Delving through old stuff and having it explained was interesting and yet a little soul destroying. I was asked a question that I answered without thought, it provoked a gasp from Linda and a raised eyebrow from the Doctor. He said he would come back to the question. Since that moment I have been considering my response to that question and questioning it. And the validity of my belief is also in question. It is almost as if something has been put on hold in my head and my dreams.
The medical lasted over 90 minutes and arrived at the findings that I had every reason to be depressed at the time and that it is right to treat my depression with the correct medication and that the medical drive to remove me from that medication wouldn’t have been called for had I suffered with diabetes or a heart condition. You always hear of mental illness, you often hear of a heart condition. You cure illness and treat conditions, this conception stigmatises mental health in my opinion. It was also confirmed that I do have Post Traumatic Stress, which was almost a relief to me, for it at least explained why I feel like I do. This also vindicated our belief which was rejected by others less qualified in the field.
So I have a lot of thinking to do and a bed to go to. I guess I had better publish this and climb the wooden hill.