Going it alone

There was a turning point in all this when my willingness to go through the motions regardless of cost changed to stubbornness- a more familiar and natural state for me. It came last week when after still receiving no news about the proposed medication I contacted the CPN who later left a message which annoyed me so much I had to wait a couple of hours to phone back while the anger spent itself. The message amounted to an appointment set up for me 6 miles away in another town to see a psychiatrist who would determine not what medication I needed but whether I needed any at all. So I called the CPN back and reminded her that not only could I not do that but that she had spent 3 sessions with a view to trying to get me to go a short mile trip to the shops and back. What about if she came and collected me? Still it hadn't sank in. But why can't you do it? At that point I just about slammed the phone down, I just can't. Just like I can't sit in the school car park for 10 minutes or go to the bloody shops anymore. I can't do it and that is why you are here to help. Have you not been fucking listening? Are you not the one who on every visit said you could not understand why I had never been offered medication and it was now a priority? I would have thought that much was obvious but the only obvious thing was that it was not. So she said she'd have another talk with the doctor and get back to me but she never did. It was at this point I realised she was really no different from the first CPN who visited 3 years before. Won't listen, couldn't care less, of zero help and actually worsening my state. Fired.

Torn between guilt and mental preservation the latter finally won out last night and caused an almighty fight with my wife- as I knew it would. I've said many times before how my wife has pinned her hopes on my recovery being delivered by the hands of mental health services so when I told her last night I was going to phone them the following morning, today, and tell them not to bother coming back she flew into a fury. For a woman who claims to hate confrontation she threw one hell of a wobbler I can tell you. It was survival of the loudest and angriest to which we both fought our corners well.

But I dug my heels in and under a muttering breath of words I could not possibly transcribe here she sulked off to bed banging whatever she could never to speak again. So much for mental preservation then. The anxiety left and guilt, like I knew it would, filled the void. So much so that I sat in the silence of an empty room for an hour mulling over things and then spent a couple of hours lying down in bed doing the same before finally the sleep came. For all my wife's anger I would hazard a guess she went out like a light as soon as her head hit the pillow- something I envy. She puts everything on hold to the morning and conks out while the worrier beside here stares at the ceiling with a million thoughts running wild.

I felt like the abject failure I was supposed to feel, made to feel, knew I would feel. My wife lives in hope of a day not when things will improve but for a day when things will return to 'normal' again. Not much to ask is it? She wants things how they were and she wants the man she married but he is no longer there and nor will he be coming back- which I have never told her as it would crush her. Without that hope my mental state would not be the only one in jeopardy. So to her my news was a bombshell. I'd rolled her hope up into a ball and drop kicked it out the window. No wonder she was mad. She is so blinded by this faith in mental health services that I could not reason with her and regardless of my excuses or justifications I was throwing away my last chance at a happy end to all this. I was being selfish and wasn't willing to try to get back the life not only she but the kids too deserve. Quite a bit of guilt to handle when put like that.

My reasons are many for ending this pantomime. I had an appointment scheduled for today at 10 and thought I could just grit my teeth to get through it but realisation struck me late last night and I reached the point of no return. I guess it was sitting there going through the material the CPN had given me and the work I had to do. Sorting out types of distorted thinking and all that kinds of rubbish that looks good on paper but serves no purpose in the real world. I mean what really does it matter whether my thoughts are catastrophising, overgeneralising, absolute or whatever else? Is sorting them into different piles going to make me well again? Of course not and it was all that sort of thing that was starting to get on my nerves. There is nothing practical in there, its all identification.

In mid battle I asked my wife if she thought things were getting better. She shrugged her shoulders and then asked me what was the alternative. I'd already given her the alternative and informed her that it was bad enough that I wasn't going forward but these sessions had stuck me right into reverse. I've been at the bottom before and I can see the slide. I now see how things went in a chain reaction when this all started from panic outside, panic inside, monophobia, socail phobia, etc in an orderly fashion. I can see it happening again and it worries me. Where in the past year I was dealing with people in the house these sessions are conditioning the old fear again which is one reason I could not bare another visit. The general anxiety level has been stuck on high since the run up to the start of this which I think is because I knew deep down it was a waste of time. Now I am constantly fatigued and constantly on the verge of panic while experiencing a host of new and agitating sensations that I have never felt before- at least not for a couple of years. Walks are at a minimum and drives have disappeared. So after explaining I asked my wife if this was what she thought was progress, did she want me to slide right back down to the bottom again and was she happy for me to be this miserable every waking moment- and I do mean miserable. I should have known the answer as it was the same one, the only one. What was the alternative?

So OK then. I just watch myself slink all the way back into the house and under the bed and wave mental health services goodbye when they decide its time to do a runner again calling me a hopeless case over their shoulder as they flee for the horizon leaving me a wreck. Not a chance. I have no desire to go back there, none at all. And if I do find myself back there then it will be by my own hand and not that of a stranger. So this time there was no compromise and regardless of the guilt I was sticking to my guns. Even knowing the hurt it caused I could appease no longer. There was not a chance in hell I was going to let someone lead me by the hand all the back down to where it all started once more. Not a chance.

It was my wife who broke the silence first this morning and credit to her for doing so as I am totally in stubborn mode now- its a lifestyle choice with me when I choose to do so. I'd woken up in a panic which is unusual. I've had panic on waking a few times lately which is another sign things are not well but its always a few minutes after waking. The strained tension between us is no doubt the cause, an unresolved issue which has no amicable resolution. This actually woke me up and I hope its not the start of some new perverse chapter anxiety is throwing my way. I got up a couple of hours earlier than usual as a result which just gave more time to apprehension. When my wife spoke things were calmer. We both said our bit and the other listened. And from this we came to a solution, or compromise, and that would be that I would see if I could get the CPN postpone all visits until I'd gotten some medication to at least allow me to get through a visit without panicking from start to finish and actually being able to hear what she says because the majority of the time I am fighting off panic and she is an inaudable moving mouth. At least between my wife and I all was well again and the atmosphere softened. But my wife insisted on making the call not trusting me to come to an agreeable solution and instead most likely sabotaging all hope- I won't say it didn't cross my mind.

After she came off the phone she seemed happy. She was happy that the CPN had agreed to lay off until I got some medication to help me along. She was happy that it wasn't, for now, ending. But this is the part that really pissed me off. The CPN said the Dr refuses to give me any medication until I go out to the hospital to see her first even though I had said that if I could go out and see her I wouldn't need the medication in the first place. I met her once- she came out last year or the year before. To be kind I'd say she was aloof but a closer description is up her own arse- excuse the French but that is the only way I can describe these pompous-I-have-letters-after-my-name types who won't even listen to an alternative. So she is playing god and I have to look elsewhere. My wife reminded the CPN that she herself had said it was ridiculous that I had never been given any medication to which she agreed and said in her opinion I definitely do but I was the one who shunned the appointment. Ah, no wonder I'm tired I tell you. So instead what I have to do is talk to my GP and see if he can give me anything. It annoys me because that is not his area of expertise and the expert with the title is delegating to him. I mean can she not even do it over the phone? Why does she have to see me? I could send a picture I suppose. Even my wife could see how ridiculous this was but there was no anger there because all she was worried about was that I was not a lost cause to mental health services and that our GP would be more likely to medicate.

If nothing else that weight was lifted today and despite not being a conclusion it is at least good enough for me at the moment. But I also know there are longer term ramifications. For my marriage as an example, and more accurately to out relationship.In my wife's eyes I am giving up to easily. Its hard for her to understand that I can see clearly this is doing me all damage and no good and that is why I am unwilling to keep playing along. It is hard though for others to understand when all they see is how it affects their life and cannot have an insight into how troubled the other is. I have tried. I let it go on longer than I should have done and in doing so nothing good has come of it and instead long term problems are ahead as a result. Never again. I am on my own from now on, so be it.

Magic Door

We live in a time where kids are spoiled. Not all kids but a lot of kids. My own kids are no different. They have too much not only from their parents but also grandparents, aunts and uncles. So much waste as the majority of things end up crushed in a toy box that can't be shut unused and unplayed with. They wind up under beds, on top of cupboards and just about anywhere there is a space.

The boy doesn't have as many play things as the girls but he doesn't need them. For some reason known only to himself the only toy he will play with is the lid of a Play-Doh tub. He takes it everywhere. In the morning when he gets up its the first thing he looks for. At night when its time to got through to the bedroom for some hot milk and a DVD its the last thing he drops. I can't see the appeal with it myself and he doesn't actually do anything with it other than hold it. Its with him in the home and even some times when he goes out he takes it with him. Its his comfort blanket I suppose.

His speech for his age is not good. The girls were coherent and very clear speakers at his age but he is very inaudible at the best of times. It might be a boy thing as I remember his male cousins being slower than the girls in that respect. So when he used to reference this lid none of us had an inkling as to what he was trying to say. With some patience it turns out he calls it "Magic Door". We have no idea why but my youngest girl seems to think its something to do with an episode of "Dora the Explorer". Its amazing how kids look for the simplest things and apply their own magic to them. For all those pounds spent on a cramped box full of redundant toys a lid to a tub because the must-have thing.

Mind you I wouldn't mind a magic door myself. I seem to have come full circle. There was a time when I hated travelling because I either hated driving or hating flying. Then I made the decision never to fly again which sat very well with me and I enjoyed travelling again by boat, coach and rail. Now I'm back to hating travelling again because of circumstance while really deep down wanting to go places. If I had a magic door to step into somewhere instantly and instantly step back out again it would do me fine. Or maybe it wouldn't because I do miss watching the world roll by on a train. There is something very relaxing about the big window and the blur of the world of rolling fields and such like passing behind. Maybe just a magic door then to get me back home would suffice.

Theft

I got a letter from the Halifax BOS' trojan team- apparently. It came on Halifax headed paper. Whether it is genuine or not I am still unsure. It appeared to be at the time. I was rather alarmed to read it. What it says basically is that someone has managed to attain my username, password and answers to my security questions for online banking thus enabling them to transfer money from my accounts. In order to remedy any attack I should update windows with latest patches and run a virus scan. Thereafter I should change my password.

Without further ado this is what I did. Windows was up to date as it turned out as with my virus checker which after a full scan turned up no viruses. Just to be sure I changed my password anyway. As I did this I was suddenly reminded of some curiosities over the past month or so. The format kept changing. At one point instead of being asked one of four security questions I was asked to provide all four which seemed strange to me. And once in to look at my accounts I was being prompted to provide my sort code and account number for one of the three accounts I administer there. Again very strange. So you might think with concerns why didn't I contact the bank? Well I would if I could. Firstly they won't let me do it by phone because after that money got stolen from the hole in the wall they suspended my telephone banking and that can only be rectified if I visit the branch in the town I grew up in with two forms of ID. The only other alternative is to visit a nearer branch which I also can't do at the moment. Its a joke really. You'd think with security concerns they could remove some red tape and to add to that I am still £80 out of pocket from the last time.

So I did all this and thought no more of it while checking my account once a week to ensure no funds had been transferred. Then yesterday I got a phone call. The first time I couldn't be bothered answering it and the second time I did. The Irish woman on the other end claimed to be from the Halifax and wanted to query when I last accessed my account. After some minutes she asked if I had authorised the transfer of £900 to another account- later it transpired this transfer was to somewhere out of the country. Alarm bells ringing I assured her I did not. So she informed me that she was sure someone was illegally accessing my online account. She has suspended my online banking and now I will receive new details to initialise the online banking once more. I cannot believe how vulnerable we all are now. I feel like taking my money out and stuffing it under the mattress but its probably not safe there either.

Anyway she asked why I had changed my password and I told her about the letter which she assured me is fake and no such department existed. She also told me she's left a message on my phone to call her back after I had not picked up the first time. When I came off the phone I checked for the message it was not there. The reason I did this was I had a more pressing concern which didn't hit me until I hung up. She said the transfer was nearly all the contents of the account but that is one account and the other two accounts have more in them. Why if someone has access to three accounts would they only try to clean out the one with the smallest amount? The answer is they wouldn't. And my big worry was that the bank had only noticed this one irregularity and there were two other more serious ones on the go. This is where it gets stranger still. Without that message and contact number I had to use dial back. According to BT the phone number doesn't exist.

So what I am left with is total confusion. Who is actually the fraud here? I couldn't find any word of a Trojan Team attached to the bank when I googled which would suggest she was right. But why would someone send me a letter telling me how to get rid of the virus if they wanted the details? According to the caller my account had been accessed twice since I changed my password by this same rogue computer which would suggest then maybe it was the change of password that allowed them to get into my accounts. I just don't know. Why the hell can't I contact this woman back? Why on earth can I not even report it to my own bank?

The reason for this post is to highlight what can happen with your details online. Please all run your virus checkers regularly as there are some nasty little beasts out there. I don't know why my virus checker picked up nothing before but I ran it last night again and it came back with this report:


I googled these new viruses it has found which you can see in the graphic. I would print it here but don't want it to appear linked in some google search. According to one site this is the little sod that rips your login details and posts them off to a remote server for thieves to raid your account. My wife informed me that just two weeks ago a guy in her work got a call from the bank to inform him £2500 had been taken from his account but he got it back quickly. Just a heads up for anyone who deals with their finances online.

Second hand stuck

I feel like the second hand has stuck. It slides forward and just as its about to click into a new second it is yanked back. And it continues like that over and over. I am stuck in the moment which would be fine if it was a good moment but it is not. Its forever bad.

Whether its coincidence or not I am unsure but some very rough mental seas this past month or so have coincided with the CPN visits. Rather than easing the anxiety they have increased it considerably. So much so that today I cancelled this Friday's visit and will reschedule later. Its days of apprehension before, panic at the time and anxious nervous tension and fatigue after. I just couldn't face another visit this Friday when I have the kids for most of the day alone. That last time she was here for over an hour and a half then only left because my family arrived home and it was 90 minutes of falling in and out of panic. I think what is irritating me most at the moment is the big deal made of me never being medicated and how that was a must and yet here I am still without a word. I've asked twice now about what is happening with it only to be told its in the hands of the psychiatrist who has yet to contact me. I'm not looking for a cure or even a crutch but just some relief, a breather. I read about so many people getting some relief from meds that I think now its time I had a bit of that just to steady this ship for a bit before I go prancing off into panic with a set of tools. The last time she was in last week she actually noticed the panic which she didn't before even though my wife did. Maybe it was because I was speaking so fast that she looked up and then commented on my neck pulling. She got me to stop then do some abdominal breathing and a bit of progressive muscle relaxation. That just causes a bit of a tug of war internally. The body was starting to relax but the mind kept telling me that the longer I did this the longer it would be before the session was over so I broke off and just tried to keep a lid on it.

Angst out of the way. I thought its about time I posted because its not for lack of wanting to post that has kept me from doing so of late nor how I am feeling. In fact I type loads of every day and the more anxious I am the more I type. Its just a lot of what I've had to say and what I have been thinking lately has been very dark and very negative so I've stopped myself from posting it hoping that the clouds part sometime ahead. This is all very different from this time last year and I think I maybe need to look back at last year and see where I went right. Something clicked last year. Not just loner walks or longer drives which for me are down the priority list for me but there was none of this constant general anxiety at a greater than normal level. That is where I need to be for starters. I wasn't so stuck then. Maybe without knowing it the second hand started to move again but has once more gotten stuck. I must return and find out how to get it going again even if it does tend to move out of sync with the rest of world around me.