Depression is an absolute shit of an illness. In my own particular brand, I have multiple triggers, which may or not be identifiable at the time of a recurrence. In this most recent episode, I believe that being overwhelmed by a relentless stream of unforeseeable factors led to my extreme emotional distress.
My life frequently imitates a a circus, and I am the juggler, wildly negotiating all the balls I have in the air. During June, we lost and then regained NDIA Support Coordination and Local Area Coordination with a lot of research and endless hours on the mobile and by email.
Michael and Alex both had spells in hospital. In Alex's case, Sir Charles Gairdner Hospital has been most welcoming of my comments to improve their care, recognising his encounter with them was not entirely satisfactory. The same could not be said for Michael's experience with the WA Country Health Service and Northam Hospital, which has resulted in my second major complaint this year after appalling treatment on both 24 March and 25 June.
Michael's long-awaited appointment with a psychiatrist confirmed that he does indeed have PTSD and not a skerrick of dementia. Which was fantastic news! Less agreeable was the search for a medication that has been unavailable for months...that was solved by finding the same drug in a higher milligram strength and cutting each tablet in half. Our quest for a male clinical psychologist who can provide trauma counselling in Perth's eastern suburbs has yet to be realised.
In addition, we are working towards the foundation of a Beverley Artisans Working Party, to facilitate improved cooperative measures with the Shire of Beverley, leading to better outcomes for all the artists and artisans living in and around our town. Finally, there is the ongoing endeavour by Michael, Sue and I to keep the East End Gallery's appearance fresh and appealing, which is intrinsically linked to our financial viability.
I had also finished weaning myself off an SSRI, (for depression) which I had been taking for nineteen years. As a result of all these unanticipated events, I quite quickly began a descent into my personal hell, a place I describe as an abyss or a dark and deep well which has no hand holds to help me out.
Slowly, slowly, the fog is lifting. I am on a new anti-depressant that makes me vaguely "morning sick" but is helping my overall mood. However, this path remains rocky and unpredictable.I can sway between feisty and free-spirited to utterly devastated in a matter of seconds. Which causes confusion and exhaustion. Last week, the Gallery was in my sights. In a fit of pique, I decided I hated our artspace and fled home, filled with (self) loathing and misery.
So, I spent two topsy turvy days away from my usual routine. The first day I slept most of the afternoon away. The second day ranged from a lunch at a local farm cafe (ordinary) to a poke around the locality of Green Hills (much more fun).
Upon my return to the Gallery on Saturday, much improved, I slowly began another rejig with Michael and Sue's help. This process took until last evening (Monday) to finish. The Beverley Working Party meeting has been rescheduled and will hopefully go ahead this week.
Our Splendidly Sophisticated Saturday's (and Sundays) designer cupcakes by "Beyond Compare" was more successful over the weekend, with us nearly breaking even! We hope this new venture will be heartily picked up by locals and guests alike. The cupcakes have to be seen to be believed and we are supporting another Beverley artisan in her small business.
Today is intermittently sunny but cold by our standards. I am cocooned inside, warm and in a positive frame of mind. My only concern is that Michael is feeling unwell again with an irregular heart rate. We are monitoring his condition and I am hoping that with rest, he picks up this afternoon. We do not have a cardiology appointment until 20 August. If Michael needs to return to hospital, I shall get a GP referral to go straight to Joondalup Health Campus. Our GP has also advised us never to go to Northam Hospital ever again. Regional health care continues to be patchy...
I would almost say, in the immortal words of Austin Powers, that "my MoJo is back, baby", maybe not quite to the standard of his sexual prowess!
Take a peek at some July generated images of the East End Gallery and come up and see us sometime...soon. And I'll keep working to regain my vim, vigour and vitality. Yeah baby!
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