The Summons

The letter arrived at the weekend, the dreaded summons for an occupational health assessment. 

It isn’t even in a morning.  I will have until 3.30 in the afternoon to worry about it.  By that time, subject to a miracle I will be in such a state of anxiety that I won’t be able to get a sentence out with the words in the right order, I will be hideously sweaty, I will need a toilet very close at hand and my blood pressure, should they decide to take it, will be through the roof.

That cliff edge I talked about – the one where I was waiting to be pushed.  Well, the hand is now applying steady pressure to my back.

I know they are not allowed to discriminate on the basis of a diagnostic label – but what if they do?  What if they want to check my blood pressure or take a blood test and ask me to roll up the sleeve on my left arm.  It does not look good at the moment, with recent cuts as well as old scars.  You can’t begin to imagine how much I hate her (private self).  She is so pathetic.  How can I explain that the BPD / private self is separate to my professional self and social self.  I know that sounds mad.  I can’t talk about myself in three persons at an occupational health assessment, they’ll think I have trinitarian delusions or something silly. 

What should I do?  Do I risk the fall and the ensuing devastation if they do push me over the cliff with a rejection?  Do I withdraw from the job offer?  Do I use lots of beta blockers and blag my way through the appointment? 

It’s typical isn’t it – the time I really could do with some help to start trying to use DBT in a real situation, where I am very vulnerable and anxious - it coincides with Joy being on holiday for two weeks.

The Day before...

I have noted a pattern emerging.  I have an appointment with Joy and I’m wrecked for three days afterwards.  It isn’t just I feel wrecked, I become an out of control monster.  Joe and Jenny (my husband and daughter) suffer the consequences of my irritability and unpredictability.  The only one who is Ok with it is Jed my dog.  I hate it, and tomorrow I’m set to start the cycle again.  Time for the whole household to brace themselves!

A little anxiety before this sort of appointment is normal, but I’m dreading it.  I don’t want to put my family through this every week.  I have to ask the question, how much pain do I have to put my family through for a long term benefit to all of us.  How much is too much?

Bring it on…… (I think)

On The Buses

What is it with bus drivers?  Well, not all bus drivers, in fact, probably a minority.  But it’s happened to me twice now in a matter of months, so it can’t be that unusual.

This is what happens:

I decide to pluck up my courage and use the bus.  I try and have someone with me if possible, but I can’t always.  I get on the bus and place my travel card on the scanner (my card allows a companion to accompany me on the bus) and I should say how many are travelling (one or two) and where I am going.  The driver will then issue my ticket.  Simple – what could possibly go wrong?

The first time I had a problem I was travelling with my daughter.  We got on the bus and I said:

“*******(town name) plus 1.”  The driver just looked at me as if I was stupid.  I was confused.   I had no idea why he was looking at me in such a derogatory way.  After a moment he asked,

“How many?”  Thinking that when I said plus 1 I had made it quite clear how many were travelling I was even more confused and became highly anxious.  I tried to clarify with a question,

“How many what?”  At this he rudely spoke to me as if I was a total moron saying,

Are you travelling by yourself or with someone?”  By this time I was in a state of panic, very angry and feeling totally humiliated.  I managed to defend myself with,

“There was no need to be rude!”  Then the anxiety triggered a sort of hallucination, and the driver’s head morphed into a horrific monstrosity, snarling and looming out towards me.  I made it to a seat with my daughter where I sat and trembled all the way home.  It was three months before I dared to use the bus again – and that was because I had no choice.

Just recently I was travelling with an adult friend and my daughter.  I got on the bus and was so intent on remembering to say how many, I forgot to say where we were going.  The driver looked at me with a sort of “der!” expression.  I had no idea what the problem was.  Fortunately it did not escalate further because having looked at me like I was stupid, he realised I had no idea what he wanted and asked me where we were going.  I told him and we sat down.  Nothing too awful that time, except it brought back all the feelings from the time before.

Why is it that these bus drivers, who allegedly have training in providing good customer care to all bus users, can’t exercise a bit of common sense so that when someone (especially someone using a disabled traveller’s card) doesn’t tell them all they need to know, they just politely ask for the additional information.  In both my examples,  if the driver had just asked a clear question, no distress would have been caused, and I (and other travellers) would feel much happier and confident in the service provided.  

Being treated like a sub-human, unintelligent freak is not professional, or helpful, but it happens often, in many situations (shops, council offices, restaurants etc.).  Campaigns such as Time To Change (England and Wales) and See Me (Scotland) are so needed in current UK culture.

http://time-to-change.org.uk/

http://www.seemescotland.org/

More Impact - Anxiety, work and travel...

1.      Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood (e.g., intense episodic dysphoria, irritability or anxiety usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days).

2.      Transient, stress-related paranoid ideation, delusions or severe dissociative symptoms

Those are the criteria today’s blog mostly relates to.  The anxiety part of this is a bit confusing because I have a concurrent diagnosis of depression and Anxiety.  I think the BPD version of this is marked by its sudden impact and intensity as opposed to when it’s anxiety for its own sake which persists without ceasing for periods of time and builds up. 

 

It’s usually triggered by a relationship.  An individual (friend or stranger) may look at me negatively, or speak to me in an unfriendly or disparaging tone of voice and I will know that I am despised and hated.  Someone might giggle as I walk past or start whispering.  I know this sounds paranoid, and perhaps sometimes it is – however, it has been true on other occasions so my reactions are not without logic.

This this will affect the way I outwardly respond to the person or people (and that’s for discussion another day), it will also trigger an internal response which includes the usual anxiety symptoms of palpitations, nausea, lack of sleep, thinking too much about it, inability to settle etc.  often, in a situation where this has happened once, I will struggle to put myself back in that context.

For example, a while ago I had the opportunity to join in regular professional acting workshops in my area of expertise.  It involved a 50 minute train journey there and back, on a route I knew well so I decided to give it a try.  I managed it for three weeks until one week there was a significant delay and I was sat opposite a stranger who clearly though I was odd or something.  I was trapped in the window seat – I have not been able to travel that route since and have lost the chance to participate on on-going professional development.

Another time I decided to try and use the bus since I have a bus pass and petrol has become expensive.  I would normally use my car which keeps me safe from these anxiety triggering situations, but thought I would be OK because I was not travelling alone.  I was with my daughter who being very pretty and chirpy distracts attention from me without knowing it.  We made it into town without problems, did our jobs and waited for the bus home.  When I got on the bus I said where we were going and plus 1, and presented my pass which allows me to travel with a helper/supporter.  He asked me how many in an aggressive tone – I didn’t understand the question having given him all the necessary information and my anxiety escalated until I saw is face morph into a grotesque snarl at me and he let me on the bus anyway.  Now I know the morphing part was not real and just a stress induced thing – but the rest was.  Since then I have not been able to get that number bus in case he is driving.

Talking of morphing heads, there is a context where me and my husband are together.  We are regularly involved in this group.  A while back a minority had a very negative response to his work which has had a significant impact on the organisation and us as a family.  No-one knows who they are or why they did it.  This uncertainty of where I/we stand with people is extremely triggering for me.  When there it is not uncommon for me to look accross the 100 or so people in the seminar and see heads morphing into serpents and demons.  Though I know it is not really happening it is terrifying.  My CPN (John) assures me it's an anxiety/stress reaction and it should pass - but I wish it would pass faster!  In the mean time I put myself in that context as little as possible.

I am self-employed and am involved in the planning, managing and delivery of arts projects in the community.  We recently secured a large grant to deliver a county wide project.  This project has its own steering group.  One person on that group took a dislike to me when (as the top dog) I stood up to her and insisted on something she didn’t like so we stayed within the terms and conditions of the grant.  From that point on our relationship was unworkable, for her because she is stubborn and inflexible and for me because I was paralysed with anxiety.  In the end I had to recruit a new overall manager for the project and drop out of it completely because the anxiety was so intense I had had to start anxiety medication and I was at risk of becoming a danger to myself.