A few days ago, I went to check my emails and was surprised by one from Disability Service, talking about access to funding for uni. That woke me up to how quickly the year had flown by.
I’d spend the year away from professionals, trying to figure things out on my own terms. I was trying to forget the whirlwind of CMS visits, referrals, and opinions, as by the end of that time I had no clear answers and many more questions and doubts.
Over the year, I hadn’t questioned where I fit in the wider world- I was just concerned with keeping myself going and dealing with the medication side-effects, then I spent a few months overtaken by dissociative symptoms. For those few months I was mostly a zombie, not really caring about existing beyond each day.
After stopping the medication, and getting somewhere more alive, the next stop was anxiety; a feeling of continually running out of time, never being able to catch up to the goals I wanted. I didn’t feel ready to go back to uni, and pushed all thoughts about returning aside.
Getting the email was a reality check; firstly, to the knowledge that uni was real, and in September I would be there whether I was ready or not.
Also, it made me see clearly how precarious a position I’d left myself in. With no professional support; no-one in uni, work or healthcare knowing about my mental health;and no official diagnosis I could use to explain, I was in limbo.
The silver lining of this- at least it acted as a reminder of someone else being aware there may be issues. It wasn’t just a difference confined to my own opinion, or “all in my head”; there was still a chance of talking to someone, if I could work out how to do it without medical evidence.
Maybe it’s time to talk to someone professional again, as much as I dread that idea.