an open letter to Me: backdated 8ish years –
dear me: you are going to have to do pts(d) on a very fucking tight budget aight. but we got this!
wtf? i hear you say.
let me explain.
yes: you should be able to have this ‘mental illness’ & the resources to access a wide range of research, opinions, trials, medication, tips, adjustments, care, counselling, psychologists, physical health check ups etc etc. it ‘should’ be a. easy to find and b. free or low cost.
but it won’t be.
and this is tip number 1:
expect absolutely nothing for free, including advise, from any healthcare provider, post-diagnosis.
which runs into tip number 2:
expect absolutely nothing that will ‘benefit’ your long term self-management.
once you fully understand the following statement, it’ll make your future ‘shopping’ for pts(d) care, a lot simpler.
the idea is to make you dependent, and broke. the idea is Not to assist in making you well.
got that?
.
so, after the diagnosis is done and you’re floundering around wondering “what the actual fuck dude … does this mean i’m nuts or what?”; the simple answer is, Yes.
but as you try to get some assistance with understanding what the fuck has just transpired, you will be met with lengthy phone calls, meetings that aren’t available for months, people that aren’t ‘qualified’ but still charge a surcharge for consultation, professionals who have waiting lists but are able to ‘fit you in’ if you are willing to pay the ‘full-price’ (and fyi: this is where you will learn there are ‘scales’ of prices … IKR!) … you’ll also get met with paper work for days and prescriptions to ‘trial’ ‘for free’, but you still won’t get a straight answer to the question: “what does it mean … i have pts(d)?”
the simple solution to all this fuckery, is cheap.
you need to google it.
research it online – @ the library (free); @ a friends house … use the free Wifi @ your local supermarket … whatever it takes. and keep googling until you have a tonne of ‘advice’ you can feel semi-satisfied with.
take that shit home and sift through it. fyi … it’ll take ages, but thats ok.
don’t make appointments, take the drugs, give up the food or the alcohol or anything else, until you’ve done the research and understand what the fuck is going on.
as over simplified as that may sound, just know, that you will spend in excess of 5 years waiting for said diagnosis, trialing medications and waiting for explanations all because you had no fucking google.
Just Saying.
next: once you have a clear understanding of what you are dealing with, know that this is going to change. thats right. it’ll change. so expect no continuity or structure. you can burn that shit with the pts(d) manual you downloaded.
i’m saying this now, because if you drop the expectations for ‘recovery’ you have nothing to live up to and you have solved half if not 3/4 of your fucking ‘issue’. you’ve also weeded out the need for lengthy and costly therapy sessions and psychologist sessions. just roll with it. all of it. it’s a hell ride, but you been there and done that before, & this is a piece of piss in comparison …
next: beg, borrow or steal access to a computer and / or phone and an internet connection & you can access self help blog sites, reading material of people that have utilised nature, animals, friends etc to help them self manage. try it all. read it all. find what works for you.
next: sit in the sun. sleep in the sun. block your ears, cover your eyes and soak up the warmth. no sun? find your happiest spot with your warmest blanket and do the same. & music; lots & lots of music. when the wifi runs out .. sing :) or just hum. as weird as that sounds and as freaked out as you might be @ first, the objective isn’t to join the local fucking choir … the objective is to a. give yourself a voice, b. change the vibration in your body and c. soothe yah.
next: nightmares, flashbacks, smells, sounds … all bitches.
take the sleep drugs. you need to sleep, relax & catchup on sleeping & relaxing. the objective here is to find your new normal. what you can live with and what you can’t. you can’t do that stressing about fitting back into a ‘norm’ that doesn’t work for you.
& last but not least: you will wait for over 8 years for an income & during that time you won’t buy clothes or food or go shopping or compare internet prices. you won’t write a wishlist for christmas or birthdays or go out for coffee or dinner. you will lose your triple A credit rating and all your financial ‘vices’; your perceived independence will go up in flames as will your access to perceived freedoms.
but guess what. you won’t need any of that because your going to be too fucked to care.
this is the beginning of the end for you.
this is where we find out what the fuck you are really made of.
because you will eventually see that all the shit you thought was important, isn’t. all the shit that you thought you needed, you didn’t. all the shit you thought you couldn’t live without, including your ‘independence’ & ‘freedom’, you can. you’ll learn that money, like a career, is nothing but numbers & paper & won’t buy you family or time. you’ll learn a house is nothing more than space with walls & is serving you well if it keeps you dry & warm. you’ll learn that your voice is louder than you thought & scarier than you thought; that it’s fierce & fiery as well as dark & deep as well as low & loving. you’ll learn that pts(d) is nothing but letters & you were what you were long before some cunt strung those letters together to try & limit you with a diagnosis.
and most importantly, you will learn that your place in this world is exactly where you are now. & if you stop struggling with it all, you’ll realise you are perfect, just the way you are.
& that my compadre, is how you’re going to do pts(d).
ps: breath bitch ;)
kpm ©
kpm© : rhythms & realities. 