Today was odd.

Well, today was odd. For a number of reasons. To begin with, I got out of bed earlier than I needed to because I was hoping one of my british friends would come online. It didn't happen, but by that stage I needed to leave.

My appointment with Jens didn't happen. He had to cancel because he was needed urgently at the hospital or something, but he did drop by to tell my quickly that yes, I will be getting my license back.

DID YOU HEAR THAT? I GET TO DRIVE AGAIN!

Then I had my appointment with Judy, which went . . . weirdly. She's retiring in July. I knew she was coming up for retirement soon, and now I know when. The issue with this is she wants to leave me with ICT (which is something I think is a good idea), and in order to do this I need to be regularly seeing someone from ICT. Which means finding a new key worker. We've narrowed it down to Keri, or someone I haven't met called Marie, or using Debbie as less of a psychologist and more as someone just to touch base with. Judy says that one of her main reasons for wanting me to stay with ICT is that I have a good relationship with Leisa, and if I'm not under ICT then I don't think I qualify for help from CLS. We are also agreed that transferring me back to a regular community team is likely to end with me being referred back to ICT, especially as the doctor I had when I was under the Manukau team really liked sectioning me.

Also, Jens is leaving soon. He was only in New Zealand for a year, which means I have to pick a new doctor. We're almost entirely agreed that I'll switch to Khalid. He usually does mostly inpatients but Judy said he takes on a few outpatient clients as well. We both have reasons for wanting me to not see Beydals, including but not limited to what happened in March with him.

Oh, I was talking about my diagnosis today. Aside from the executive functioning difficulties, my diagnosis is now only mood disorder due to a general medical condition. Which Judy said was "curious, really", but didn't elaborate further because she asked me about something else. It's good that they don't think I'm borderline any more though.

(My cat just knocked a bunch of stuff off my bookshelf.)

Judy now knows I haven't been taking my meds. She doesn't know exactly how long for. She knows I haven't been throwing them away, but she doesn't know what I've done with them either. Seriously, if I wasn't the world's worst liar, she'd still think I'm taking them.

In the meantime she's going to talk to Jens about trialling me on lithium and citalopram. Because being low sucks. She says she doesn't like the idea of me in possession of that amount of medication but what she doesn't know can't hurt her.

She said when she first met me in March and I was on those two I seemed very giggly and happy and she thought I was high at the time. I don't actually remember, last March was a long time ago. But she says she's hardly even seen me like that. No shit, maybe because this year has been fairly awful.

Then as I was walking back to the bus stop, I went through the mall. Initially I had intended to go to McDonalds, but I got waylaid by one of those people trying to sell handcreams and stuff. Anyway we ended up having a conversation with her being very positive about my future (she could see my scars and stuff, I had my sleeves up because it was hot outside) and telling me that although the scars won't fade that I need to accept them as a part of myself and expect others to do the same. So that was sort of surreal.

Then I went to the supermarket, and completely changed my mind about McDonalds and got supermarket food instead.

Went and saw Nana, she's been walking around quite a bit today. She's mobile enough that she gets to use an actual toilet now, which is good, and she's wearing her own nightie now which will be far more comfortable for her than the hospital ones.

Then I came home. I peeled off the bandage that I had put on some cuts from last night and noticed the skin wasn't coming together and they hadn't formed scabs yet so I ended up going to A&E. Long story short, POAC meant I didn't have to pay, I now have a prescription for penicillin to prevent infection, I can't see my right arm for the dressings, and there's a few on my left arm too. It looks like over kill, considering there was only a couple of cuts I myself was actually concerned about.

So now I'm home. And I feel exhausted. And my day was odd.