^^^That!

Knock knock.

Who's there?

Sundae.

Sundae who?


I fucking can't believe you forgot already!


But seriously. We are rooting for you.

So, trip to the 'rents over the Bank Holiday weekend.
I didn't exactly disgrace myself, but neither did I cover myself in glory, going AWOL with some ex work colleagues for a few hours and scaring Mum. Also coming home a little dazed and confused.

Anyway, my plan to upload all my photos hit a big Fail as Dad managed to bugger up the phones by trying to install new ones. Knocked out the satellite TV and t'internet.
Steven got them back up again the next day, but I was on my home by then.

To find a letter from St Anne's on the mat. For my assessment. Yay, first sign of progress.
I did smile when it advised not to turn up *too* intoxicated as it may make assessment difficult. Sorry but if you are capable of reading the letter and finding your way there (shit buses, Leeds) then I figure you can manage an assessment.
Still, it's at 15.30 on Friday so I shouldn't judge. I've woken up at 03.30 and proceeded to get wankered when things were at their worst.

Have come home with a fascinating collection of bruises and marks from dragging my bag across London and Leeds. Literally dragging - stupid wheels bust. So what with the nosebleed on the way down, which I had to mop up with a pair of knickers as I didn't pack tissues, and my festering collection of cold sores, I think it's safe to say you wouldn't touch me with someone else's right now. Although if you was a nice lady you might pat my pastel pink head and give me 50p for a cup of tea.

On a brighter note, we went round to see The Girls on Friday night. The ones I've cooked for at Mum's before. And J refused to let us go until I sang for them. Twicet. Although I pretended not to remember the end of each song, out of consideration for Mum. I think a husband with Alzheimers, a depressed alike pink haired daughter and a bunion operation are enough for one woman to deal with,let alone putting up with show tunes.

What does St. Ann's assess? Do they want you to turn up a little drunk?

I'm glad you've got an appointment this week though. Progress!

great to see you got an appointment. you know we are all pulling for you

St Anne's is a specialist addiction centre in Leeds.
I'll have an officially supervised medical detox, then 13-15 weeks rehab, including living in "practice accommodation". All in-patient, and in case that term doesn't translate it means I don't go home. Although towards the end of the stay patients are encouraged to socialise and lay down the foundations for alcohol free living.

They simultaneously treat a number of mental health disorders on the understanding that people who use any substance to escape their lives probably have underlying problems too.

I've read the website (you can find it too just from what I've posted here) but I will find out what applies to me and how on Friday. I was scared of the assessment, but Nurse A said she'd only known one patient to be rejected and that was due to a history of violence including an ongoing court case. Someone wise did tell me that the unit wouldn't have referred me if I didn't have a chance of being accepted, but hey - paranoia comes with the package right now.

Pulling what Sarge? Pulling what?


:p

He's not pulling it for me any more, he has a new trophy GF :mecry:

Sundae - do you really think anyone could replace you?

Of course not. I leave a Cherry sized hole whenever I leave.

Happy for you, Sundae. A big, double bear hug for you. You're not being paranoid. You're worried, and that's normal. Good luck! I hope all goes well.

Thanks Bunny.
But the truth is I am paranoid, goes with the dependency.
And it is hard for me to work out what is real from what is created in my head on a bad day.

The binmen are not out to get me.
The binmen are not out to get me.
The binmen are not out to get me.

There really was pasta in my Caesar salad instead of croutons though (WTF?!)

Sundae you are in our prayers.

It's an interesting kind of middle-ground patient they serve, the kind that knows they have a problem but is also aware that they can't beat it alone. Often you're talking about high-functioning addicts, who can adjust their level of intoxication on a day-to-day basis, as long as they're not being asked to go cold turkey. When daily intoxication is a way of life, you start to make weird rules about what you will or will not do, perhaps just to exert what little control you can over the situation. I once watched a show profiling meth users, and they talked to a married couple living in absolute squalor and shooting up 3-4 times per day. And this couple spoke earnestly about how the husband always takes the first hit, so if it's a bad batch that kills him the wife will know not to take it. In their warped world, this was not only logical, but evidence of his profound love for her. So yeah, I bet if you asked that couple not to show up *too* intoxicated, they could probably say, "Okay, cool, we'll take our first morning hit at 9am and that way we'll just be coming off it by noon, perfect timing."

I didn't mean to mock them. And you've hit the nail on the head, Clod. It's why I've fallen between two stools (sometimes literally) in trying to get treatment in the past.

I might only shower once a week when things are bad, but you can bet it would be on a day I was going to see Dana or going for an appointment. I'm not actually a dirty person, but I sure as hell live like one when I'm under the cosh.

I always accepted I had a warped view of the world, I'm now admitting I live in the warped world of an addict.

Part of my problem in getting the medical profession to take me seriously is because I don't have a history of being in social care, I have no police record, I have not been abused or an abuser. I rate on the same level as a yummy mummy who likes a few too many glasses of wine on a stressful evening. But I'm not. I'm someone with a serious problem who has had luck and friends/ family keeping my head above water for years. I don't mean enabling, I genuinely mean saving me until it looks like I'll get effective care.

So I'll go with my bruises, my cold sores, my eyes like pissholes in the snow, my ever present jaundice, but I'll be freshly washed and scrubbed and probably even free of cat hairs. And not *too* intoxicated to undertake an assessment :cool: