As I start writing this piece I glance out the window and there is perched a Myna, one of the numerous of that pest of a species that populates my locale. I had already intended to use them as an example in this piece before seeing that little guy.

If you know me you know that I’m a Harry Potter fan, and so it seems natural to me when I need to make a comparison to use a mythical creature – the Phoenix – when I compare my favourite bird with my least favourite. The Phoenix and the Myna. These birds create a strong image when trying to display the impact of mental illness during COVID-19.

I’ve had a rough week, last Friday several hours following an outpatient treatment of ECT I had a panic attack due to thinking I had inadvertently taken a double dose of Lithium and was therefore bound to have another delirium episode. High Lithium levels combined with ECT were the cause of last year’s episode. After a while of trying to calm down and shoo away the flock of Mynas I had to call an ambulance, my heart was 147bpm and I felt a lack of confidence in my ability to maintain proper cognitive function. I knew that there was a Phoenix who wanted to come and rescue me, all he needed was a little belief on my part, but I didn’t have it. Instead of summoning the strong, heroic bird who could carry me to safety. I called the paramedics who went through my medications and concluded that I hadn’t double dosed – this calmed me down significantly, however, I was still anxious for reasons beyond my control and the paramedics were obliged to take me to hospital because my heart remained above 120bmp, the figure at which they have to take you in.

On Saturday my anxiety decreased, but depression took the reigns. Again I allowed the Mynas to overwhelm me, a pest that has overtaken my suburb. I allowed their squawking to drown out the song of the Phoenix, he could have reminded me that there are people who love me, that despite being unable to attend, I have a church family who love each other and even in these hard times are actively serving our Lord and one another. When there are a flock of Mynas and only one Phoenix it is easy to hear the sounds of the many rather than the one, but the one is stronger and not a mere pest.

I didn’t understand why I was so depressed and anxious until seeing my psychologist on Monday; she explained to me that it is completely understandable that I would be experiencing this level of depression having endured hours of believing that I was going to experience another delirium. I did not receive the comfort and validation that I needed in those hours and was left to dread what was coming. The delirium far outweighs anything else as the most terrifying experience of my life.

The rest of this week, despite having two comforting sessions with my psychologist and one with my psychiatrist in which he was validating toward my experience and apologetic for not acknowledging my distress when I messaged him on the night of the panic attack. I have remained deeply depressed; my dose of Rexulti has been increased from an already high 3mg to the maximum of 4mg. My psychiatrist and I are going to see how this increase goes before either increasing my ECT from fortnightly to weekly, or having another admission in the clinic to try one of two new drugs, sadly neither of which are on the PBS (actually Rexulti isn’t either, but I get samples).

COVID-19 is such a small part of my life – yes, I have just purchased five washable and re-useable face masks, but there are bigger things I have to deal with. It is not very abnormal for me to be alone. I enjoy seeing my friends, but I am an introvert and COVID while making things inconvenient, hasn’t changed my life that much. The two annoying things are 1. I’m getting fatter again because the pools are closed and I’m eating too much. 2. I have to get tested every fortnight 4 days prior to ECT and isolate between the test and going to the ECT procedure. COVID is an area where the world feels swamped by Mynas and those of us already living with mental illness feel like everyone is getting a taste of what our lives are like. We feel isolated, burdened, judged – we experience some people being afraid of us like you do now when people are scared you’ll contaminate them.

A Phoenix lives his life – 500 years – as a symbol of strength and renewal, to die in flames and be reborn out of the ashes. Like man he is eternal, but he will see Earth through its phases, a gift, or perhaps burden man does not have. Considering the portrayal of Fawkes, Dumbledore’s pet phoenix in Harry Potter allows us to consider loyalty, strength and hope. In the book Harry Potter And The Half Blood Prince Fawkes flies in circles and sings over Dumbledore’s dead body before departing, never to be seen again in the stories. He is loyal and yet his own master. We are in a phase, COVID-19 will go away.

I went through my Undergraduate Degree with low standards regarding my grades. I hoped for the best in my Drama performance subjects and often got the best. However, it took me six years to complete a three-year degree due to the regular withdrawals and occasional failure of my elective subjects. It’s hard for me to put effort into something that doesn’t interest me, namely something that falls outside of the realm of creativity.

Things have been different in my Masters, I’m only attempting one subject at a time, and being in the field of Creative Writing, I am generally interested. This semester I am attempting a critical subject to prepare me for my 20 000 word thesis. Expecting to scrape a Credit in my first assignment, I was thrilled when my grade came back as a High Distinction. That assignment was worth 35%. With the confidence boost, I handed in my second assignment, only worth 15%, with great confidence. I worked hard on it and thought I had done an excellent job, so yesterday when I received my grade and feedback, I was highly disappointed to see the numbers 7 and 4, 74%. A Distinction, which I would have been over the moon about in my Undergraduate, and which would please most University students. The only relief I feel is from the fact it is only worth 15% of the subject.

I do, however, now face a gripping fear that my major piece for this subject (50%) won’t be good enough for my overall mark to be an HD. This subject isn’t where my strengths lie. I can’t research, analyse and argue perfectly, and I’m working with two ideas I’m still learning about;  How can the Bildungsroman story be viewed through the lens of eco-feminism? I certainly identify as a feminist, but eco-feminism I’ve only just discovered. My story fits snugly as a  Bildungsroman entailing eco-feminist ideals. I need to appreciate that if I do not achieve my HD for this subject, I have at least gained some valuable knowledge to carry with me as I write.

Maybe the PhD is a pipe dream, though.

It has been a long time since my last post; I’ve been busy with uni and multiple hospital admissions. Most Friday mornings for the past four or five months I’ve been going into my new hospital for a session of ECT as an outpatient. I’ve been fortunate that lately I’ve been waking early naturally. The 5:45 am wake up I need in order to get to the hospital in time isn’t too much of a challenge. Following the procedure outpatients must be accompanied home, it is not acceptable/allowable to catch a taxi / Uber home. My NDIS support worker has generously blocked out time in her schedule every Friday morning in order to take me home. Without her I couldn’t have the ECT as there is no one else to take me home.

 

Over the last 11 years, through much trial and error, my psychiatrist and I have discovered that antidepressants have little to no impact on me. Although it is a treatment of last resort, ongoing ECT may be our best option. You may be horrified by the thought of this; but ECT is nothing like you see in old films such as One Flew Over The Cuckoo’s Nest. It is not used as punishment and there is a thorough process adhered to prior to beginning treatment, to ensure that all less invasive treatments have been tried on the patient; and that the patient has a good chance of positively responding to the procedure.

 

I remember being horrified when my psychiatrist first recommended ECT. I thought I’d be awake, strapped down and that my whole body would be seizing. I was wrong! During treatment the patient enters the room, removes their shoes and any top layers with long sleeves. Several sensors are stuck onto the chest and head, then a general anaesthetic and muscle relaxant are administered. I must admit, I like the feeling of the anaesthetic kicking in. The muscle relaxant stops the body seizing when the shock is performed, the only physical evidence to the medical professionals in the room is slight curling of the toes. An electric current is passed through the brain causing a seizure; this seizure causes changes in the brain chemistry and can result in improvement in the patient’s condition very quickly.

 

The combination of a doubled Lithium dose and a closely followed session of ECT recently caused a delirious episode in me lasting several days. I am fully recovered now, yet traumatised by it. I have great fear of it occurring again, and truly I say to you that it was the most frightening thing I have been through. Since the episode I have had two sessions of ECT, both of which I was told to completely cease Lithium for three days beforehand. Yesterday was my most recent session. I will resume Lithium tonight. I am back to my original dose, not the doubled dose largely blamed for the delirious episode.

 

Right now, I am at my Mum’s house having our last catch up before I head over to the UK for a month to see the family whom I miss greatly. I look forward to seeing them. I hope that the joy from being around loved ones will outweigh my absence from my psychiatrist, psychologist and my weekly ECT sessions.

I haven’t written on here for a while, it just never occurred to me. I’ve just finished a semester at Uni where I was given 76% for my short story in the fiction writing subject I was doing. 76% may not sound bad, it is, after all, a distinction. As an aspiring fiction writer, I am disappointed with this mark but there were encouraging comments from the tutor. I’ve decided to continue with my fantasy novel, I can use the feedback to help me write better and seek help from someone more experienced.

 

I’m writing to you from hospital. I came in on Friday 14/06 and will be going home on Saturday 22/06. I’m just here for a couple of sessions of ECT and some respite. My depression has been worse recently and due to foolishly coming off Xanax cold turkey, my anxiety took a plunge. I’m back on a lower dose of Xanax now and will come off it slowly in the coming months. I’ve been severely affected by loneliness, during the day I often have appointments, so I see someone. Or on quiet days I just go out for a coffee and experience the environment of the café. But at night the house is usually dead quiet, and I feel like I’m the only person in the world. I’ve been conquering this by taking my night meds super early and being in bed by 7pm. The sooner the day is over the better. It’s unusual but I’m really missing my Mum, she’s currently part way through a two-month holiday in Europe. I’ve been calling her every two to three days and talking for ten minutes or so. I don’t see her all that often when she’s home as she lives an hour away, so I don’t understand why I’m missing her. I hope I’m not making her feel guilty for going away to have some fun, she deserves the fun after working as hard as she did for so many years and dealing with all the chaos my brother has heaped on her lately.

 

To my friends: I’d like to ask you to contact me more frequently, and if you have the time ask me to do something with you, the company would be greatly valued at the moment.

 

That’s all for the moment.

 

K

I’ve had a challenging week. Tuesday, in particular, was intense. I had been in hospital for a few weeks having ECT. I was supposed to reach 12 treatments including the few I had in my previous admission. My last treatment was on Friday 7th September. I missed Monday’s because I was in the Alfred with a cold which was affecting my breathing and causing dizziness severe enough for them to keep me in there for 21 hours and have three neurologists assess me. My next ECT should have been on Wednesday, but on Tuesday morning while I was queuing for my medication, the Nurse Unit Manager approached me and informed me that I was being moved to a shared room. The whole hospital knows that I don’t do well in shared rooms, it triggers my anxiety and hinders my recovery. I reminded her of this and said if I am forced to move I will instead discharge. She said “Fine, go home.” I called my psychiatrist and asked him to speak to management on my behalf and explain that I needed to stay to continue my treatment and that I couldn’t share, he did so, but it made no difference. I packed my things and left. I couldn’t go straight home as I had a massive day ahead of me. Last week someone in Germany tried to take $500 out of my bank account, so my bank cancelled my card, thankfully before any money was withdrawn. Under the impression that I’d be in hospital for quite some time I had arranged for my new card to be delivered to the branch near the hospital. Straight after discharging I went to the bank hoping the card had arrived. I was very fortunate it had just arrived. Then I killed some time in a café and had the best kombucha I’ve tasted in all of Melbourne. I have it so frequently there all the staff know my order except for the odd occasion I have a latte instead. Following my kombucha, I had to drive across the city to my psychologist appointment. My new psychologist is excellent, she’s highly capable and really gives the impression that she knows her shit. She’s young but I trust her, and my psychiatrist recommended her personally, he wouldn’t send me to anyone subpar. So more action in the day. I went back from my psychologist to the hospital to see my psychiatrist in the consulting suites, he wasn’t there in the morning, and he wanted to see me before I went home; also the hospital wouldn’t give me my medication until I’d seen him. It was a bit of a nothing appointment, we both admitted that we were disappointed in the hospital management and we questioned how we would go about completing my course of ECT. He suggested coming back in about 10 days, but I was reluctant because even if they gave me a single room, there’s nothing stopping them from repeating this situation.

I was extremely depressed (I still am) and on Wednesday I had a bit of a brainwave… “Fuck that hospital, I’m moving!” I had to check with my psychiatrist that he’s willing to keep me as his patient, see me as an outpatient but have me cared for as an inpatient by someone else. I called him, and he was okay with that, he even suggested a good doctor (Dr C) at the hospital I intend to move to. I then called my friend, L, who has had a few admissions to this hospital and I got the low down about it. They only have single rooms, they have ECT on premises, they have a gym, the smokers’ courtyard is huge (I’m not a smoker) which means I can hang out outside without inhaling second-hand smoke, it’s closer to home than the hospital I’m leaving, it’s a short stroll to several cafes and shops. Sadly they have no art program, and the nurses aren’t as good, I’m not happy about that, but after being treated with so little respect I never want to go back to the previous hospital.
Yesterday I saw my GP and got a referral to this hospital, specifically to Dr C, the psychiatrist mine recommended. I called them a couple of hours afterwards to check the referral had come through, it had, but Dr C isn’t in until Monday, so I have to wait. My mood is very low right now, and I’m worried that Dr C won’t be taking new patients or that the hospital will be full. Realistically it’s unlikely they won’t take me at all, it just might not be right away. I haven’t written a formal complaint to my old hospital yet, I want to make sure the new one will take me and have my first admission to make sure I’m going to be well looked after there. When all’s taken care of I’ll be writing a complaint to the general manager emphasising how disrespected I felt and how everyone at that hospital knows I don’t do well in shared rooms. I will also speak to my insurer and ask them if there’s a process of complaining though them, as they are the ones providing the hospital with money they may have a bit more leverage.

Right now my mood is about 2-3 out of 10. I’ve hardly eaten in days, the idea of putting food in my mouth and chewing is like running a marathon. I’ve committed to cooking for my housemate tonight, it’s just a simple meal, but at least it’s some food in my belly, and it’s fresh, which is better than the little bits I have managed to eat lately.

Well, I’ve got nothing else to say. Life sucks!