I'm beginning to think that being a
doctor could be a bonus when it comes to accessing treatment for
bipolar disorder (once you are able to get over the trauma of
temporarily being a patient, not a doctor). On this occasion I seem
to have been fast-tracked through the system. Appointment slots have
miraculously appeared for me. My GP made it very clear that I was a
doctor during the whole referral process... As a result I got
myself onto a CBT programme within a fortnight. Whether it will help
God knows, but I've never known the NHS to act so quickly in response
to mental illness. I'm being treated almost as well as a cancer
patient!
In other news, I've just woken from an
extremely vivid dream about giving a presentation at the UK's
“National Aubergine Conference”. Nice. An hour before I was lying
in bed weeping. I haven't been able to leave the house all day. I
checked my email and made myself a fantastic lunch (surprise,
surprise), but then froze and started to cry endlessly, mainly
worrying about my career. Checking out the aubergines at this
conference was a real mood booster though. When I woke up I had all
but forgotten my woes and had set my mind to thinking about what I
could next cook with an aubergine (when I've thought of something
I'll let you know). Is that the sort of experience I need to be
talking to my psychiatrist about?
When the other half gets home we've planned to cook another recipe from the Kitchen Shrink - grilled trout and toasted sunflower seeds with leeks. Supposedly the fish oils will do me no end of good. Don't get me wrong, I love fish, but sometimes the thought of deliberately cooking something healthy just makes me crave pizza. And not thin, upmarket pizza. Thick, greasy, cheap, pan-friend pizza of the Pizza Hut variety. With lots of meat. Meat and aubergines.
