Jul 26

 Follow up appointment with the GP yesterday. The good one. The one that hopefully will become my "regular" GP.

We see eye to eye about a "methodical approach" to my problems. It was, he said, his job to do that. If you say so doc. Few others in your profession seem to have got that memo.

He has prescribed me some gout meds to see how that goes. If it makes things worse, tell him. If it does nothing. Tell him. And we will see how we do. He asked how experimental I was willing to be. All the way. Do whatever you think is best. So here we are. He admitted trying to discover things via specialists would take a year or more. And possibly get nowhere. Or we could just try stuff. An admission that the system doesn't work, but, lets see what we can do from here.

He's a nice guy. And it seems willing to work with me. So. Good. I doubt the gout meds will do much. But. You never know. We both agreed that it could be behind a number of my pain flare ups, and, my dodgy right foot. General muscle pain was sometimes seen in gout he said. And whilst more unusual, my right heel could also be gout. Which I knew. But I pointed out the last GP had said that wasn't a thing. No. It's definitely a thing he said.

I think the GP that initially looked my foot was a locum GP. And shit. I mean. Demonstrably. Or at the very least. You have two GPs that say the opposite to each other. That, surely, can't be right. One of them has to be wrong ( and a fairly trivial look up on the interwebs reveals that it's the first GP that is wrong ).

At a meta level. How do you do anything about a GP that is shit ? Poor knowledge ? But doesn't outright ring any alarm bells ? I think the feedback and general quality control in the NHS is utter shit. It prevents the absolute worst of the worst, outright killers, abusers, inappropriate grabbers. But everyone else gets a big old inclusion hug. I think there needs to be a lot more transparency in the NHS, and that includes metrics for the quality of diagnosis et al a health professional makes. Everyone makes mistakes. It's human. But there's a sliding scale of competence here. And beneath a certain level, you don't want those people anywhere near health care. Like many professions. You want to make sure your bridge builders know how to build bridges. If you have no mechanism for testing their capabilities, you're screwed.

Today I had arranged to go out, be social, play a game, but it got cancelled. I am trying my best to get myself out, talking to people. Doing shit. Even though. Honestly. I really, really don't want to. But I know that this is my demons talking. They want me to isolate. And curl up. And do nothing. And oh god do I want to do that. I have no joy. No enthusiasm. Nothing. I am an empty shell. But despite all that. I am trying. Trying to be something else. To be something I am absolutely not. At points it feels like a complete sham. And pointless. Stupid. It is a war. A messy, shitty, awful, soul destroying war. I am doing my best.

This evening, out of tea, I decided to make a quick supermarket run. Nothing heavy. A few things. Tea. I didn't want to. Exhausted. That perpetually cloying Chronic Fatigue Exhaustion. I reached into my jeans. Poo bags still in there. Why do I still have them. I don't need them anymore. I put them aside.

Athena crossed my mind. Of when she was a pup. Full of life and possibilities. And how it ended.

I went to the supermarket. And cried on the way. So sad. My life is sadness and ashes.

I got to the car park and screamed in the car. I am tortured. Again. Always. I am always in a fucking tortured state. Life is pain to me.

I dried my eyes. Got out. And went into auto pilot around the supermarket. A half step of disassociation with everything. Floating. One foot off the ground. Everything and everyone else like toys. Like a simulation. Unreal. 

The sadness numbed to a background ache. Hollow.

Standing at the checkout. I longed for anyone elses life. Desperate for warmth. Care. Love. A hug. Someone telling me it will be ok. Anything. I could feel it. So very starved. Like a black hole of need. But I stood. Said nothing. Did nothing. Masking.

I came home to an empty house. Made some dinner. Watched some great TV which took me far away, into the story, into their lives, all of mine forgotten.

Today I also spoke to a few people that needed help. Some words of support. Encouragement. Understanding. I can, at least at times, offer some kindness. Despite being bound by horrors. I can still be kind to others. And understand. Something. Useful. Even if just a tiny bit.

On reflection today.

I think. Perhaps the most useful bit of mental health advice to give almost anyone. In almost any situation. It always seems to be an issue. And true. Is to be kind to yourself. When you are suffering. From small to great. When things are at their worst. Remember. To be kind to your poor self. Do not judge yourself harshly. Give yourself a break. Be kind. Rest. It is so common and so easy for most of us to turn on ourselves continually. It always seems to help to remind people to do that for themselves.