TW: contains mild reference to self-harm.
Something I’m struggling with a lot right now, is the notion that I am not really ill, that I am undeserving of the treatment I receive and that my care plan is over the top. As such, I find myself seeking reassurance from people at every opportunity. I feel I frequently need things validated. I worry that people think I’m a fraud, that I should be working, that there is no reason for me not to attend a funeral. ‘She looks fine to me…’ I imagine people saying behind my back.
My GP has recently increased my dose of Quetiapine such that I am now on quite a hefty combination of medication. In terms of my concentration and productivity, my motivation to get things done, this has had a positive effect on me. The irony is that, being a little more settled in myself, I don’t feel ill enough to justify the amount of medication I take (confused much…?).
I worry that I receive an unnecessary amount of care, that I am unworthy of support, that there are people much more in need than myself. I raised this with my Psychologist this week, who pointed out that MH Services are under such pressure that they don’t keep patients on any longer than is absolutely necessary, that if there was any reason to suggest I should be discharged then I would be discharged. She also reminded me that I pose a considerable risk to myself, which dictates the need for a care-coordinator, someone I can call on in an emergency. She reassured me that I would be under the remit of the CMHT for the foreseeable future; I may not always be in therapy, but I might have an OT. At the very least, I’ll have a Consultant and access to the duty service.
I worry that my SH behaviours will be perceived as ‘attention-seeking’. In reality, it is likely a result of the frustration I feel at myself when I am unable to do something. I convince myself that I’m imagining my illness, that there is nothing wrong with me and that everyone knows it.
I get paranoid and, further, I indulge this paranoia by looking for tell tale expressions on faces and listening at doors. I’m ashamed to admit that I have been known to read the text messages on my Mum’s phone, convinced that she and my Sister have lengthy discussions of which I am the subject…I’m yet to find anything incriminating.
Despite all reassurances, all the evidence to the contrary, I just can’t give myself a break…is it all in my head?