Had another psych visit on Tuesday. It was our third meeting following the demise of Dr X. My new doctor is pleasant and professional but there's no history between us yet and I don't feel as though she knows how I work. Or vice versa. Anyway, as predicted, new doctor wanted me to increase my medication. I have, although I delayed until Thursday night so as not to be so affected at work. I'm not at all happy about it. Now as well as feeling anxious, I feel stupid and drowsy. I do understand that about being well covered during this time, but on the other hand feel that adjusting medication right now is a big ask. When I challenged her and said that if the dose was that far under the theraputic level, then perhaps I didn't need the medication at all, she looked rather alarmed. And then agreed that the level of medication I was on was still having a significant effect. I mentioned that I had this particular thought quite frequently as I became well again. but that I had no intention of going off the medication at this point, because I didn't want to be unwell again. New doctor relaxed a bit. Even cracked a smile.
I miss my old doctor. We had talked alot about medication levels and the balance between feeling a range of emotions, feeling creative and alert and being stable. I got the feeling that old doctor was prepared to keep my medication at the lowest possible level to keep me compliant on it. If she'd have said that it was really in my best interest to increase my dose, then I probably would have just sucked it up. When I had talked with my GP, he thought my dose was very close to the theraputic range and that I seemed OK. Indeed, I feel like I've been doing pretty well, no days off work, no major disharmony in my life, no major mood swings either way, sleeping well and going about my business. If I feel a little anxious at times, well we're about to spend a huge amount of money on a tiny, somewhat smelly house in a new area where there are no trams just outside the door. I'm sure it will all be good, but you know, there's an element of risk and big change here so it's one of life's stressful times. It's normal to feel a little anxious, yes?
So. Next week we settle on our house. All going well. There have been some hiccups with the paperwork. None of it really our fault, but time consuming and anxiety inducing nontheless. I remember last week at the bank asking some questions about the process of settlement. Only to be told that it was all automatic. Which I foolishly believed. I should have known there would be a form to complete for that part of it. Afterall, I do do bureacracy for a living! It turns out that there was a missing form in our loan pack and that the junior Mr Bostonov hadn't picked it up. Anyhow, while Grace was at her first morning of childcare, we met with the branch manager who sorted it all out. He produced the missing paperwork for us to sign, rang other departments to check that all was OK and thouroughly explained the the anwers to all my questions. I left feeling that eveything was well under control, unlike last week. Lesson here, if you think someone doesn't know what they're talking about, they probably don't. And thank goodness for competent, serious bureacrats.
Grace's first half day at childcare was a wrench for both of us. Eventhough I feel totally fine about the centre. She skipped in with excitment but became cautious as she realised that she couldn't free range like at home and then retreated to observe. Once it was nearly time for me to leave for the house inspection, I gave her a big cuddle and said goodbye and that I would be back after lunch, but before nap time. Then she burst into tears. Big sobs. We'd talked about childcare and that mummy or daddy leave you there and then come to pick you up later. But the reality was just so much harder. I got her blanket and gave her another cuddle. Then I retreated to the staff room for a cup of tea and a little sniffle myself. When I finally left and peeked through the window, there she was, sitting at a little table, engrossed in an activity. Not crying. But the wrenching feeling stayed with me all morning. When we collected her, she greeted us with a big smile, saying with obvious joy and relief, I'm so glad to see you, mummy and daddy. It will take a few visits for us both to feel in the rythym of it.
Still, amidst the anxiety and downer of the big stupid pills, it's all very exciting. This weekend is the very last weekend where this house which has been my home for nearly half my life is the physical centre of that life. Next weekend our focus will be on the new house and turning it into our new home. Next weekend, I imagine I'll be pulling up carpets and cleaning, walking around and checking out every inch of the house in detail. Yesterday, I stocked up on gloves and hardcore cleaning supplies because that will be the first thing I have to do. I remember spending hours washing the kitchen walls when I moved in here. I'm also thinking about about tiles for the bathroom and paint colours for the walls. Moving the little fruit trees that are starting bud. And about getting ready to move.