Today's treatment plan

I dropped out of Maon Yerushalayim after an extended period of annoyance with several staff members, including my personal therapist who I simply couldn't stand. This ends a period of treatment that, while frustrating through most of it, has done an exceptional job of helping me break out of my crisis with my life intact. I said from the beginning that I didn't plan on sticking around the full three months allotted, and I stuck to that. The lack of cognitive-behavioural therapy that was supposed to be an integral part of my treatment was the deal-breaker; that I was not all allowed to find help elsewhere because the program itself didn't have it was simply too much for me. I around as long as I could until I realized it was time to move on. Then I waited three weeks to make sure I was making the right decision. Then I followed up on that decision. Last Thursday was my last day at the program.

Friday and Saturday were somewhat down days, as I spent many hours in bed on Shabbat due to what I thought was just general exhaustion, and connected it to some left shoulder pain that had been going on for a few days and some chest pain in the same area, and took myself off to the doctor on Sunday. My regular doctor wasn't in, so I had to go to some generic doctor that didn't know me or my story. She kinda freaked out, sent me for an EKG and heart ultrasound, and both came back completely clean. Regardless of this, she ordered an ambulance and had me sent off to Hadassah Ein Karem. All so we could check a specific marker in blood for heart attacks, which came back negative for any heart damage. I took up an ambulance and then a bed in the ER all for this. At least my health fund is paying for it. On the lighter side of things, I got to see all my old colleagues from when I did my rotation in the ER. While being wheeled in, the social worker said, "What are you doing here?" The in-charge nurse sent me to my bed, telling the EMTs that I'm one of their students. One of the doctors recognized me, gave me a stern motherly look and said, "Chest pains?" The nurse on my wing of the ER asked, "What, you were that bored that you had to come here?"

Long story short: the exhaustion is depression, the shoulder pain is because I slept on it wrong some time last week.

The depression sucks, because I thought I was temporarily over that shit. But go figure, it comes back just as I quit the program.

I'm starting my therapy for ADHD at Nativ on Sunday. I'll be seeing my psychiatrist on Monday to see what he's got to say about the last two months. I should set up an appointment with my usual therapist to give her an update as to what the hell happened. In the meantime, I'm doing what I can at home, taking some time to myself and cleaning around the apartment. I'm going to try to blog once every other day or more just so I can get my thoughts out.

Today I've got to get to a bank to deposit money from Canada, maybe get to my health fund to take care of some paperwork, and start bugging the hell out of Maon Yerushalayim until I get an answer as to when my paperwork will be ready. Dishes to wash, laundry to take care of, the office to clean, and tons of paperwork to sort. Somewhere in all that, I'd like to take a chance to exercise a bit, as I've been neglecting that something fierce.

But for now, listening to Q107 (Toronto's classic rock station!) and taking it easy.