Wednesday, April 1, 2009

Keep taking the tablets

On Sunday Mum and I went to the beach, then I spent much of the next two days pretending to study. The singles interclub competition came to an end on Monday night. In the doubles I played with Superman again, which meant I never really relaxed from the first point to the last. Thankfully, unlike last time, we didn't both self-destruct in our own separate ways, and we won 6-3 6-3 in less than an hour. Then came the singles. I've been involved in all manner of bizarre singles matches this season so it was fitting to end on one. To cut a long story short, I was in all kinds of poo but managed to dig myself out of it, probably due to the youth and exuberance of my opponent. In the first set I was 5-2 down but reeled off five straight games; in the second I was even deeper in the mire at 5-1, but this time I won six games in a row, facing a couple of set points in the process. I struggle sometimes in winning positions because I go into my shell; he did the opposite. In some ways I felt he lost the match rather than me winning it, but after previous experiences this season, in which the boot was firmly on the other foot, I'll take it.

Yesterday I saw the psychiatrist. I was a bit apprehensive, especially as I started off by sitting in the wrong chair. I was dreading the Rorschach Inkblot Test but luckily I was spared that. The upshot of my hour in the chair (once I'd found the right one) was that I need to increase my dose of Efexor and maybe start on lithium. Apparently it turns out I've got some form of bipolar disorder à la Spike Milligan and Stephen Fry. That diagnosis came as some surprise because as far as I'm aware, I don't swing from the south pole to the north, but rather from the south pole to somewhere near the equator. Seeing a shrink is an expensive business, so I tried to get as much bang as I could for my buck by talking incessantly. I felt down for the rest of the day, perhaps because I had to go to work today. I started to lose the plot as Mum helped me sort out my bank statements. I went into fits of hysterics, and for some reason found the ASB statements utterly hilarious.

Today at work could have been a lot worse. I was nervous; it was almost like my first day again. I tried to turn over a new leaf by cleaning my desk which had become a bomb site. I also proudly displayed my "you've-now-passed-a-few-exams-so-you-must-know-something" certificate, which I'd been embarrassed about because I don't know anything. The highlight of my day was a letter I received congratulating me on reaching my fifth anniversary with the company. For my loyalty I get $100 to spend at a restaurant of my choice; Mum and I will have a slap-up meal on Friday night, just before she hops on the plane to go home. I was still agonisingly slow today; I was probably functioning at about 40% of capacity. But I'm hopeful I can turn things around. I just have to keep taking the tablets.


  1. How bad is your life that you would voluntarily use-take drugs?
    You do know there is nothing chemically wrong with your brain and body?
    Ask a neurologist.

  2. I appologize for my previous comment. I was angry at the psychiatrist.
    OK here is the story. You have sent the wrong message to your shrink.
    You wrote "I tried to get as much bang as I could for my buck by talking incessantly"

    Your shrink thinks you are manic. That is why Lithium was prescribed.

    I hope you explain to the shrink you were just trying to get the most for your money.
    You do not normally talk so much.

  3. You're probably right. But the vast majority of what the psychiatrist wrote on the report was spot on (he was regurgitating what I told him, after all). I haven't started on the lithium yet, and might not have to. I'll be seeing my shrink again in ten days.