Second post this week, aren't you lucky! It's been an odd sort of week. My insomnia has been getting gradually worse over the last few months but apparently someone gave it steroids this week and I went four days without sleep! I mean, thankfully I managed to get an hour here and there, but I just couldn't stay asleep. It was very odd. And very tiring. Took a few days of excessive sleep to feel human again, I still felt very weak yesterday - it was almost like like of sleep was reducing the amount of oxygen making it's way to my muscles. Not to mention my eyes were so dry and sore I felt like that cat had licked them or something. Yummy.
Still, sleep issues aside it's been a rather successful week. I finally got to meet the psychiatrist in charge of my care, spent the weekend at my dad's and made a phone call! Sprinkle in the usual forty hours of tv/gaming and we have a winner.
For those of you who don't know, I have severe telephobia which developed when I was sixteen and living in Leeds. The only people who ever called me were my landlords asking for money even though they knew I received my rent in arrears from housing benefit. It was pointless and stressful and after only a few months I couldn't answer the phone at all without giving myself a panic attack. It's been eight years since then, obviously my other mental health issues exacerbated things significantly.
I was told by my Care Co-ordinator that I was eligible for PIP (Personal Independence Payment) but the only way to get it was to make a phone call. I probably shouldn't admit this online but usually mum will pretend to be me, or I will yell in the general direction of the phone that I give permission for her to speak on my behalf. I suppose because I've been slowly battling my depression and anxiety for a few months now far more successfully than ever before, I decided it was time to bite the bullet and give it a go.
This is a great campaign on Instagram at the moment
A lot of people on the autism spectrum have difficulty with phone calls as we find it difficult to know when/how to respond etc when we have no visual clues. I'm sure others have many other reasons for their difficulties but it's pretty common for the two things to go hand in hand. Thankfully, I knew basically what questions I would be asked (name, address, bank etc etc) so I felt I was prepared as I possibly could be for my first call.
It lasted about fifteen minutes, I accidentally interrupted her a few times and kept giving mum a panic stricken 'help!' look when she asked me a question I didn't know the answer to, but I bloody well did it! I was sweating and shaking like a leaf by the time I hung up and the nausea was... rather unpleasant to say the least. Not to mention, I was gripping the phone so hard I honestly thought I would crush it like Giles did in the Buffy episode where he's a Fyaarl demon.
Mummy saved the day though, and went out and bought me beer and choccies as a reward for a job well done. Isn't she sweet? Speaking of mum, I have some... pending news that I hope to reveal in the next few weeks. Ooooh cryptic. With any luck, you'll find out soon enough... and so will she!
So, back to the psychiatrist. Mum and I were pretty annoyed that this bloke we'd never met seemed to be totally in charge of my care and no one else could do anything without his permission, which he couldn't give because he was never bloody around. We had a meeting with him on Dec 22nd but that was cancelled cue to him needing an operation - can't really hold that against him!
On the 27th, I finally got my meeting with him and found out I have actually met him before. In 2011. Using one meeting from six years ago as a template for my care now is like trying to perform surgery on a chicken after having practiced on a coconut!
Back in July when I re-re-re-restarted my healthcare plan, I was told I'd be getting some form of therapy at some point. Since then, no one has even mentioned it so I brought that up with the doc and he asked a few questions about my day to day struggles and did this super weird thing... he actually, like, listened to me? Over the years I've easily had 20 psychologists, councillors, therapists etc etc and he is honestly the first one to listen to what I have to say and respond with a plan that is actually relevant! Miracle!
I told him the problems I've been having with getting medication - only getting a fortnight's script at a time and that only after I fight tooth and nail for it - and he seemed completely nonplussed as to why the GPs refuse to give me meds without his permission. He wrote a not on my records telling them to stop being knobs and gave me a whole month's script (at the correct dose and everything!) without batting an eyelash so hopefully that will all be sorted now.
I'm scheduled to see him again in about 3 weeks to see where we're going with my therapy - between now and then he's having a meeting with the head of the dissociation based therapy to see what's best for me. It's been six months since I started this round, and about 12 years since we first started looking for help, and that forty minutes was honestly more useful than the entire rest of the time combined. I cannot begin to describe what a relief it was to find a doctor who really listened and believed me. He didn't try to push me back onto the therapist I had in 2015 who laughed when I tried to come out as trans (which three other people did), and he's also the first one who didn't confused my age with my IQ and speak to me like I was a naughty toddler. I'm about ready to propose tbh.
When mum got back from work, we had a little trip out to the shops. I got my prescription and found two bottles of nail polish for £1! Bargain. I also found a nice camo pair of yoga pants which I very much enjoy wearing, even if the amount of exercise I've actually done in them is... rather minimal.
Wedge of Lime & Foggy London
The next day, I went to my dad's house to stay over and see my sister Nataly the following day. Growing up thinking I was an only child and then suddenly having 5 siblings was quite a shock to the system, as you might imagine. I'm getting to know Nataly pretty well now and I think I'm kind of a good influence on her in terms of having an older family member who survived school etc, especially given that she's just as nerdy as I am. It's a little strange thinking that someone looks up to me as a cool older sibling - well, maybe not 'cool' but you get the idea - but I'm really enjoying spending time with her, especially if I am in some way helping her gain confidence in herself as a young adult.
This is Blinky. Dad found this lil jackdaw lying around looking a bit dazed recently and decided to take him home. He appears to be blind in one eye and one wing is injured. Dad is helping him regain his strength and if he can't survive on his own anymore, he will eventually be moved out to the allotment (and a bigger cage, of course) where he can meet the chickens! This may seem like a strange thing to do to you, but having known my dad for eight years now, I' more surprised when I visit and he hasn't got a new animal to play with!
We got a nice bottle of fortified wine and I annoyed the cats while we watched the darts. Poor Susan hasn't been doing so well lately, she's really been through the ringer with various illnesses so it was really nice to spend a little time with her out and about as we mooched through the charity shops and bought matching bracelets. I also snaffled a copy of Odd Thomas for 60p!
This was night three of no sleep. I managed to get about 45 minutes before waking up like I'd had a full 8. I wouldn't mind so much except after the first hour of being 'awake' I'm bloody knackered again but unable to fall asleep again. On the plus side, I have been having some cracking conversations with Jim. It's been pretty good getting to know him more and having a laugh with him.
The trials and tribulations of autocorrect and their lack of swears
At about 5 am I decided to give up on trying to sleep and perused Netflix. I stumbled across a film called Golden Years which has almost every British actor over the age of 50 in it, which is right up my street. It's a very pleasant English comedy, think Keeping Mum meets The Italian Job with a solid script. It's very easy going and a bit daft, perfect for 5am when you don't exactly want to watch Schindler's List! When I got home I sat down with mum and watched it again. She's a picky bugger when it comes to tv and film so it's always a bit of an event when I finally find something she'll like! Simon Callow absolutely stole the show as a West Country luvvie who had clearly been Tango'd, though I should warn you he likes to flash his arse in everything and this is no exception!
I am rather enjoying this current trend of OAP comedy that we have in Britain, it's a good start turning the tides against how ageist the film industry is, especially for women! We still have a long way to go - I mean, we can't just stick everyone in a light hearted comedy when they're 'past it', but it's the first step.
The next day, Nataly landed jet propelled by her boundless energy, as always. She talked our ears off about anything and everything - in a very pleasant way! - and we watched some terrible films on the Syfy channel.
It was a lovely way to spend the weekend, and I look forward to next time. It's also the first time anyone in person has called me Hawke and I can't begin to explain how good that felt. I love my mum and she'd never deliberately hurt me but she just doesn't understand this part of my life at all, so to hear my dad casually refer to me by my chosen name was like... a pleasant punch in the gut? I also managed to snaffle a hoody out of it, which is great since my last one got nicked!
Over the past few weeks I have been watching Being Human. I started watching it a few years ago and lost the will a bit by season... 3? For whatever reason, I decided to give it another go as I was determined to finish it. Some parts I did enjoy but for the most part the spoilers below are going to be a little... ranty.
[Spoilers]
So, for those of you who don't know, Being Human is sort of a supernatural Friends until suddenly you click onto the next episode and it turns into Saw with basically no warning. They can't seem to decide on a tone and it bounces back and forth every few episodes from utterly depressing to quirky comedy. Some of the acting and subplots are pretty interesting: I absolutely adore Nina who does not have time for your patriarchal bullshit and will shut you down. George is pretty adorable and it's refreshing to see a 'monster' who's a mild mannered, shy genius. They do kind of ruin the effect somewhat when they nick half of his character traits and copy and paste it onto someone else later in the series.
The plot is holier than the Pope in a sieve, especially when they backtrack on previously established lore to make new storylines work. It gets to the point where people are coming back from the dead completely willy nilly and then they introduce time travel which is difficult enough to tackle for even the most seasoned sci-fi writers. I can barely get my head around the time travel in Prisoner of Azkaban and that's about as simple as it can get. My problem with it is that they get back to the hospital just as the other them go back in time, creating a loop. Presumably this means that ten, twenty years in the future, there is still a little bubble of time somewhere where Harry is perpetually thirteen and fighting dementors. And that fucks with my head. I mean, it's kind of nice in a way to know that he is always going to be having that heart to heart with Sirius, but even so.
Now, if you thought that was confusing try this on for size: baby Eve grows up, kills herself to go back in time and kill herself as a baby. How? How the fuck can you even pretend that would work? It is literally impossible for her to succeed because if she does then her adult self no longer exists, therefore no one goes back in time to kill her baby self, therefore she grows up anyway, therefore ow my head hurts. It makes no sense.
The whole point of this clusterfuck of a plot is that her death will bring about the end of the vampires. Finally they succeed and the vampires- no, wait, they carry on as they always have and it's never mentioned again. Alrighty then. I mean, sure, some of the head honcho vampires get killed but that's probably slightly more to do with the big fuck off bomb than the ~prophecy~. Oh, and she manages to alter certain parts of the past without actually doing anything, which presumably would mean that it was going to happen that way anyway but they pretended it didn't for... dramaticness?
You can kind of understand why everyone except Lenora decided not to come back for that season. I can only assume most people dropped out after they'd finished shooting the previous season as everyone has mysterious off-screen deaths which have to be shoehorned into the conversation in the first episode to explain their absence. Even Lee Ingleby who is brought in for 30 seconds right at the end of S3 to be the next Big Bad but then 'oh he's dead now btw.'
Still, the thing that bugs me most is actually something else entirely - the writing. I'll give you a brief overview of Seasons 1 & 5, see if you can see what my problem is.
Season 1: Annie, Mitchell & George - a ghost, vampire and werewolf respectively, live in a house together where Annie and Mitchell have a romantic relationship. Mitchell is an old vampire who used to be Evil McEvil until he gave up drinking blood, now another vampire wants to do The Apocalypse and has decided out of the hundreds of vampires in the world he has to have Mitchell back to do his dark bidding.
Season 5: Alex, Hal & Tom - a ghost, vampire and werewolf respectively, live in a house together where Alex and Hal have a romantic relationship. Hal is an old vampire who used to be Evil McEvil until he gave up drinking blood, now another vampire wants to do The Apocalypse and has decided out of the hundreds of vampires in the world he has to have Hal back to do his dark bidding.
I have to say though, Being Human has an absolutely fantastic supporting cast and Phil Davies as a creepy, whispering Satan was inspired. The only part of the whole show that genuinely scared me was when he suddenly looked at Alex (who humans can't see), with pure evil in his eyes. There's something so terrifying about watching him tug at various strings, watching everyone inadvertently do his bidding, gnashing his filthy teeth.
[/spoiler]
Last night, Lily and I watched Hurricane Bianca which is kind of Mrs Doubtfire meets Dangerous Minds, starring Drag Race fave Bianca del Rio. For those au fait with the world of drag there are a lot of familiar faces scattered throughout this daft comedy. It's not the most amazing film in the world but it's funny and easy to watch. I was actually surprised with how... polite? the film was, I was expecting more swears and dirtiness and non-PC jokes but it was pretty safe. Still, it was a nice way to spend the evening and we had a good giggle.
I better leave it at that as I feel like I've written an exorbitant amount this week!
Xx
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