In totally unrelated news, I had to remove a suicidal spider to a place of safety before I could run a bath earlier. I’m like a spider social worker.

Martin Robbins puts it fabulously in the Guardian:

If I walk into a pharmacist looking for a packet of condoms, and I’m given the choice between a packet of Durex and a sock, it isn’t a choice, it’s just a pointless piece of confusion that’s going to lead to lots of people having really uncomfortable sex, and a localised population explosion.

If the NHS had all the money and resources in the world, then giving people the choice to go with a treatment probably entirely based on the placebo effect would be fine. Well actually, I still wouldn’t be convinced, but we could have a conversation and you might convince me it’s fine. But we are not in that position, so this is ridiculous.

I realise that as a psychology student and aspiring psychologist, I should firmly believe in the power of psychological therapies as the answer to the kinds of mental health problems like mine that do, admittedly, seem to be routed in my psychological complexity. I should be singing the praises of evidence-based psychological interventions (wooh, CBT!! wooh!!!).

But, erm, just between you and me?

I’m getting better and it was finding the right pill that did it.

If funding is cut, support services will be first on the line. My university has, like most university in the UK, dramatically improved its student support services over the last 10 years or so. Under the umbrella of student support services comes educational support, the counselling service, careers advice, the residential support service for students living in halls of residence, community liaison support for those living off campus, the international student team, and financial advice. All of these services are absolutely necessary, and even more so for students with disabilities.

Getting me through a year of university hasn’t been especially cheap. The educational support office has played a large part in helping me this year. They are responsible for enabling students with disabilities and special needs to access education at the same level as anyone else, despite their problems. They talk to departments, organise study skills support, and sort out support funded by the Disabled Students Allowance. DSA is something which I hope and pray will not fall victim to cuts, because it is so important. Students with disabilities/special needs (that could be anything from a physical disabilities to mental health problems to learning difficulties) are individually assessed by qualified and experienced assessors who make recommendations about the support that they need to get them through university, and this is then funded by the DSA and organised by university educational support services. The great thing about it is that it’s individually tailored. There’s no sliding scale of “how disabled are you”, but instead you are funded to get the things that you specifically need. Depending on your needs, the fund could pay for a note taker in lectures, a digital recorder for recording lectures and tutorials, specialist computer software, Braille paper or even something as simple as photocopying costs. For me, DSA has funded two hours a week with a mentor who can keep track of my progress and make sure I’m not getting myself into difficulty with work when my mental health isn’t at it’s best. She’s also been invaluable in helping me to communicate with other university services, which is a simple thing that my anxiety can make impossible and could really get in the way.

I’ve also had some support from the residential welfare service, which is composed of wardens and assistants that support students living in halls of residents. This is a big help to students moving away from home for the first time, and again, especially for disabled students. It was made very clear to me from the start that I could contact them whenever I was in difficulty – even if that was at 3am – and someone would come to sit with me, or put me in a taxi to A&E if that was required. Having that as a back up was immensely supportive. When things were really getting a bit hairy in January, it was even arranged for support assistants to visit me over the course of a weekend to, you know, check I wasn’t dead. Always a help.

So, the existence of at least two of those services was absolutely essential to me getting through my first year at university. And I have come out of that year a more confident young woman, who can see a real future ahead of her. Despite my mental health problems, I passed this year with a first.  When I leave, I plan to embark upon a career in clinical psychology, work in the NHS, do something to help people. If heavy cuts are made, people like me will not be able to achieve their academic potential, because their special circumstances will get in the way. And that is wrong.

Negative: Got weighed prior to going on the pill and discovered that I weigh 11 and a half fucking stone. Fucking hell. I am on a diet. Expect crabbiness. (Incidentally, the packet insert for microgynon says you should be careful taking it if you have a history of severe depression. Oops. This better not mess me up).

It wasn’t as horrendous as I thought it would be. He examined me and did an ultrasound. In conclusion, there’s nothing seriously wrong. I may have mild endometriosis, but I may equally just have really horrendous periods for no definite reason. I could have the laparoscopy operation to tell for sure if I have endo, but I’m reeaaallly not keen on being cut open, and there doesn’t seem to be a point as the first line treatment for either option would be the same, and it comes in the form of the handy contraceptive pill, although he recommended I choose the type carefully so as to reduce the chances of it messing with my mood.

I also have polycystic ovaries, which he told me with the caveat “I don’t want you to Google this!”, but apparently that’s actually fairly common and as it’s obviously not causing PCOS as my periods are regular, it’s nothing to worry about. He said he just thought he’d better tell me in case I had another scan in the future and someone else told me!

I am so glad that’s over.

I have an appointment with a gynaecologist next week.

I am flipping out.

The doctor I’m seeing delivered both of my GP’s children, and I trust her judgement, so the fact that she trusted him with her babies makes me feel slightly better, but I still don’t think there’s any way I’m going to make it through a pelvic exam without a whole lot of PTSD freakiness. My socially unacceptable illnesses even clash with one another!

Nightmare.

It actually only served to make me more confused about whether or not I actually want to be in therapy. There was so much expectation leading up to getting the assessment (because whoa did I have to fight a battle to get there) that I don’t think I’d really thought past it. To explain, here, in a blatant rip off of Pandora’s recent post (sorry!) is a summary of the pros and cons of going back into therapy, as my head currently sees them.

Pros:

• My therapist thought I needed more therapy when we finished, and agreed that I should continue with it as soon as possible. She is a professional, and she knew me well. I should trust that judgement.
• My psychological intricasies aren’t going to go away on their own. I want to be better, and my best chance of doing that is through psychotherapy.
• I want to go into clinical psychology. I am not going to be able to do that with a raging borderline personality. Getting treatment sooner rather than later so that by the time it comes to applying for my doctorate I can demonstrate my psychological stability is, therefore, important.
• I saw real improvement during my year of psychotherapy with CAMHS. Psychodynamic therapy seems to work for me. This is somewhat understandable seeing as weird attachment issues are a big part of my problems.
• This was always the plan. I have been fighting for this for a year. Why change my mind now, when I’ve finally got it?
• The therapist (the ‘Principal Psychotherapist’ for the service, whatever that means) seemed competant and nice. Whilst I have no doubt I’d be farmed out to another therapist post-assessment, I do think she’d probably make a good decision about that.
• We spoke frankly about my concerns, and she said that if I do start therapy again, it would have to be done in a way which would not overtake my life and where I wouldn’t fall into the same traps as before.
• Wouldn’t have to see the CPN!

Cons:

• The hospital I would have to go to for therapy is a pain in the arse to get to. One bus goes from my university to the hospital directly, but it’s one of those immensely unreliable minibus things, and only goes to and from the hospital every 2 hours, which you can guarentee will not fit with my therapy times. A taxi costs £14 each way – for that cost every week I could almost afford a private therapist! An hour long appointment would take me at least 3 hours in total, probably more.
• The therapy department is in one of the most depressing buildings ever. And you have to press a buzzer and get let through a security door before you get into the department, which doesn’t exactly put a person at ease.
• Secretly, it’s actually been quite nice to have freedom from the intensity of therapy, and the fact that it basically takes over my life. I almost don’t even want to think about going back into a situation where I’m living for my next session, rather than living my life.
• I really didn’t believe it at the time, but annoyingly, new psych and CPN were right – a break from therapy has allowed me to use the things I learned, and take some time out to actually experience life again.
• University does not exactly present a good situation for successful therapy, seeing as I’m only actually in one place for 10 weeks at a time. This is a particular issue considering how I had a tendency to freak the hell out during therapy breaks last time.
• If I’m going to do therapy, shouldn’t it be DBT or CAT – two therapies that have much more research behind them as treatments for BPD.

I agreed to go back and see her again in September to discuss it more. We’ll see.

1) My sister seems to be getting on ok, and my family have calmed down. We’ve been writing to each other, which is possibly the best communication we’ve had in years. Next major obstacle on the horizon is what will happen when she comes out.

2) Having had my therapy assessment, I am now totally ambivalent as to whether I actually want therapy. There are a lot of different reasons for this, and there is potentially a pros and cons list to come, but my head can’t think about it logically at the moment.

3)  I am home for the summer and have been permitted the freedom of not seeing a psychiatrist or CPN for 3 whole months. I will see my GP here for prescriptions and if things go tits up, I am to be referred to the crisis team here (boo). Psych was supposed to write to GP expressing this plan, but thus far has not, even though it’s been 3 weeks since I saw her and she promised to do it within a week. Her and paperwork are not friends.

4) I might maybe possibly have endometriosis, which would maybe possibly mean that a lot of the symptoms I experience that have just been attributed to my being mental, like random pain (anxiety) and extreme fatigue (depression) are actually maybe possibly caused by an actual physical illness. Have seen one GP and am seeing another next week for a probable referral to gynaecology. Which probably means a pelvic exam. Hands up sexual assault victims who really don’t want to have a pelvic exam.

So yeah. That’s what’s going on over here. How about you?