Update on the chaos that is my life.

What a whirlwind of a few weeks have been. There have been step forwards, setbacks and accomplishments. In the last few weeks I have found myself coming out of the fog of my father’s death. That said I miss him more and more each day. I miss the random phone conversations. I realise why he called so many times a day; all because he was lonely. I miss the “dad” jokes. I miss having him there to see where my life is taking me.

As some know I had decided to do my Diploma of nursing prior to his passing. Some know I enrolled days after his death to study via distance education. Some know the disappointment I went through when I had to quit studying because it was too hard to function, that I was under this huge black fog that is only starting to lift.

I am about to go into the 6^th week of study. I have learnt that I had to change my study techniques to stay on top of everything. The reason I bought up about dad and him knowing about my plans is because this past week I learnt that I have been given a full scholarship worth $23,673! I would be an idiot to through all of this away. I have plans and my treatment team are all on board to keep me from slipping backwards.

I plan on doing the anxiety day program again in the distant future as the first time I wasn’t in a place to even do it and it didn’t help that one of the girls in the group was a complete bitch.

I am finally on the right course of medication that has allowed me to focus more. I am taking things day by day. I have found a friend who completely understands everything as she is in a similar position to me. It is nice having her to talk to.

As for now Kaen and I are doing okay.

I am not ashamed.

When you look at me I look like a lot of 25 year olds, tattoos, unique shoe collection and forest fairy green hair. Then theres the "So what do you do" question... Well I am qualified to work in the community sector but currently I am studying and doing freelance photography work.

Some days are busy, especially after a photo shoot. It may look easy but setting up and pulling down studios take time and energy. Then there's the behind the scene the hours it takes to edit images, the OCD that arises from making sure every image is perfect. At the end of the day you could have only edited five perfect images, but those moments as exhausting as it can be are moments that you are capturing for someone which makes it worth it.

This post is one which I know some of you who read this won't know about me, there are others who along my journey have put hours into my care and they are the ones I cannot thank enough.

I think from even a young age - 10 or 11 I became good at hiding my emotions. I remember the self hatred I had towards myself... I think it was around this age that the "voices" regarding food and appearance started. I remember I hated looking in the mirror, I remember weighing myself.... Hating myself for being one of the bigger kids in the class. When your father was 6'1 I was destined to be one of the bigger kids - I absolutely hated it. Little did I know that from there things would escalate to where I am today.

In the second semester of year 7, our family packed up and moved. While loving being back on the south coast, it was then that bullying started. I remember being thirteen on the school bus and one of the year 10 kids threw a apple at the back of my head. Thankfully we moved houses and I didn't have to catch the bus with these bullies again.

It was during this period that I developed my love of photography, jumping through my bedroom window to capture images of the waves as they crashed towards the shore. The 100's of times I walked up and down those stairs to get images... I really think this was the catalyst for the development of disordered behaviours. I remember running up and down them... Counting the steps as I went.

When I was fifteen things escalated and I was placed on one of the many anti-depressants I have been on. It was around this time when my eating disorder escalated, it was this time that I became deceitful. Running water and playing music so nobody could hear me purging, I remember mum knocking on the door one night while I was in the middle of making myself sick asking me if I was doing it. Of course if you know anything about eating disorders these are usually the first signs - Loud Music & Running Water!

From this I went to skipping meals, making excuses not to eat.... Blah Blah Blah... But the deceitfulness caused guilt. I was diagnosed with anorexia at fifteen after a older friend questioned me about it. She took me to the doctors I was diagnosed that day with Depression, Anxiety, Anorexia binge purge subtype. Yet I thought no one knew, that layering clothes on would hide the behaviour that I was engaging in.

I started seeing a eating disorder psychologist, well she turned out to make things worse. I would pace the entire hour because my hatred towards and anxiety just being around her made me feel worse. *Explanation coming* I remember one session in particular where after pacing most of the time, I almost passed out. She decided it was needed to call my mum and not have me return back to school. The school decided I was a hazard risk, if I couldn't / wouldn't eat I wasn't allowed to be at school.

There were times where my mum would have to come and get me because I couldn't do it. In year 11 I started outpatient treatment through Westmead Hospital. I was at the ideal weight for height just that the "voices" were still there and I was continuing to purge. I was told if I had been doing treatment there when things were at its worse I would have been admitted for a nose hose, this is why the eating disorder psychologist was negligent. She knew my weight and yet did nothing. Let me walk for a hour straight.

This was when suicidal thinking became toxic

The specialist at Westmead told my mum she really only had two options: Sit in the bathroom while I shower or to take the door of my bedroom off that I didn't deserve the privacy. I remember walking out of the session so pissed off; telling mum there was no fucking way that either of those things were happening.

While being treated at Westmead I met a lovely girl there named Marli she was 19, she was lovely soul and we spent hours talking. Unfortunately while in my last year of high school she died. I had heard about how people had succumbed to their eating disorders but never thought it would happen to someone I knew.

I remember the night I found out, I sat in my room reading some posts of mutual friends wrote about her. I walked outside to where my mother and friend were sitting having coffee. I had no words, I fell to the ground... I realised that every time my school counsellor told me "Chloe, this is a slow form of suicide" wasn't her trying to scare me, that she was warning me.

One night I confided in mum about my thoughts, here's where treatment became extremely TOXIC - I was in a bad place. Mum was working for a foundation which had a psychologist on sight; they decided that I should see her after Marli died...

This psychologist was amazing, she was kind and gentle, but it was a different kind of therapy I ever tried. She pulled things out of me that I had never spoken to anyone about. We worked together for almost a year but then I started working where she was also working so we stopped therapy and she became my mentor through my course.

Just before I was 19 I went to a friends birthday, I ended up getting so drunk and having what I thought would be "a one night stand". Looking back I wish that's all it was. I remember laying there and knowing what I had just done was a bad thing, and yet what came next is worse. We began texting... While I started to have feelings, he made it clear that he wasn't interested in a relationship yet we continued to sleep together.

He would make comments about my weight or what I was wearing and also tell me his grandmothers opinion on what I wore.

Then I realised he wasn't a good influence on my life and suddenly he wanted me. I fell for it but just before Valentines day I went to get food where a friend was working and she told me why he got fired from there... He would talk to them about our sex life and he got fired because he sexually harassed one of the girls there... No sooner had the words come out of her mouth I had managed to type him a message that it was over and what he did was unforgivable.

This is when he continued to message me, show up at my family home. More messages and I ended up going to the police because I was afraid of him. I packed my stuff and moved by the 2nd of March. Less than a month after all of this happened. I didn't feel safe in my family home.

One of the girls I went to school with, little sister tried pushing me into forgiving him and trying to work things out but I kept saying "NO" about 6 weeks after I moved she messaged me saying she now understood why I wouldn't give him another chance.

In the first 3 months of moving I lost 30kg... I am not proud of this, I know it was dangerous but I couldn't stop. I was seeing a psychologist who was out of her depth and referred me to another eating disorder psychologist.... I did therapy there until I started seeing my current therapist 3.5 years ago.

At the time the general practitioner I was seeing had a agreement with me on when I would be admitted to the public system, the thoughts got worse and she had to do what she did. I spent 6 weeks in the public psychiatric ward. It was terrible, so were the next two times. The following two I was scheduled, the first time I was forced to drink 4-6 ensures plus a day because I refused to eat... It was the only thing that I could control.

At 22 I got private heath insurance so if I needed an admission I could go to the private hospital, it was 4 weeks between starting to see a psychiatrist at the private hospital and my first of many admissions there. I remember on the second or third time I seen Dr. Kim that I told her if I was ever scheduled she would never see or hear from me again.

I found a different general practitioner who I adore, she goes above and beyond her duty of care. She will make 30 minute appointments even if I am only there 10 just to make sure I have enough time to talk about anything that has come up. We have an agreement, if my thoughts become dangerous all I have to do is tell her it's time and she finds me a bed at the private hospital. I have had a fair few admissions but it has been the last two and the day programs that have produced change.

The first admission was 8 weeks, during that time I had medications changed.
The second and third were 4 weeks long.
The fourth and fifth were 4 weeks long focusing on medication.
The sixth was after my father died.
The seventh I did a different program and was placed on lithium.
Then I did two 8 week programs - one on anxiety and one on depression.
I then had my eighth admission to adjust lithium.

My last admission Dr. Kim ended up scheduling me, I was so angry but at the same time I knew and understood why. It took me a few days to get over my anger it was just hard because I ended up spending Christmas in the hospital. I also fell back into "coping" techniques. The six days I spent in there I didn't eat anything bar 3 slices of pineapple.

The day I got let out I found out I got into the course I had applied for, there were over 150 applications for 50 spots. Then to top it off I also got a scholarship that paid off my whole 18 month course.

The last part has been very vague because it is still difficult to cope with. Maybe at another time I will be able to write about it in more depth.

Too much noise and a lazy bear.

Today has been a productive day, for me anyway Kaen has laid in the same spot since last night. I think I've mentioned that sleeping is difficult for me, either I need some form of light be it - TV, Macbook, natural night light, lamp... I am okay with not having light if I have something to hold onto.

As I said it was a productive day, I went into the university to sort out all of the things needed for enrolment. I have accepted my offer so it's official I am a nursing student. I still have to do a few things like sort out disability services, work out what text books I have left to buy. I have to go through and work out whether I will get RPL because Queensland refuses to send my transcripts because they believe I owe them $125 which is a load of crap, I am not paying for equipment that they wont send to me because I never finished the course through them.

I had some great news today, fingers crossed that it happens. I got a phone call from the college saying that I have been put forward to getting a scholarship worth $17k! The course alone is worth 23k! I sent all the documents that they needed but I couldn't supply any medical or psychological information.

Well it has been a long day so I am going to go relax with Kaen. No lights tonight.

clonazepam and back to school.

Not much happened over the last few days, had a few errands to run. Unfortunately I didn't get everything I needed to done but that's okay I will deal with it Monday morning when the college administration office is open.

Unfortunately the government has changed the amount they are willing to pay for TVET courses. It now only covers $15,000 and the course is $23-thousand but I have some classes already completed so I went into the university to discuss how many classes I am going to get recognition of prior learning for which will change the amount that I have to pay.

I don't know where things are going with my health team. I've decided that I am not going to fire my psychiatrist, I'm trying to work out how I am going to manage appointments when classes start up. Centrelinks only requirements are that I go to therapy twice a week. So it's going to be interesting how I am going to work out 2 appointments over 4 days since she is only opened tuesday - friday.

I've tried calling centrelink that many times that I have given up and am going to go in on Monday. I need to find out where and when I need to go in and re do enrolment.

Kaen has been hibernating. But having him on my bed I don't need to have a light on or I can have the tv or my macbook on the bed giving me light.

I know there is a list of things that I need to get out of my head, thankfully I go back to therapy on the 17th depending on college.

I've been home for a week now, taking everything one day at a time. I have been isolating from everyone I'll eventually end up getting back to everyone. I'm sorry but my head is all over the page.

Time to take clonazepam and get some sleep, I've not taken valium in a few days the clonazepam has helped calm things down.

Goodnight, Kaen and Chloe.

Medication, stress balls and a fluffy teddy

I am going to aim to write two or three posts a week, it just depends on how busy I become once school starts up. College starts up before the rest of the university. I would love to start when the rest of the university does but the University of Wollongongs nursing is extremely competitive so going to college first is the best option for me to get into the Bachelor of Nursing.

I've made more stress balls, unfortunately they are too big so I will make them and donate them to the hospital next time I go back to see my psychiatrist.

I seen both my psychiatrist and doctor today, so a rather busy day.

I seen Victoria - my psychiatrist this morning. We spoke about the emotions around being scheduled and how I reminded her that had she ever scheduled me that she would never see or hear from me again, looking back I think it was very selfish of me to say that. She knows going to the psychiatric unit at the hospital hindered my progress but at the same time with Christmas and New year there weren't enough staff to keep me in the private hospital.

She spoke about her concerns regarding what happened, I sat and listened... I told her I knew she was scheduling me prior to her coming back and telling me and how I was pissed off about the choice of nurse she bought in with her to tell me about it because at the end of the day the argument I had with that nurse earlier in the week was the catalysis for my downfall. 

Medication wise I am coming off the sleeping pill because it's to expensive in conjunction with the new anti-depressant, it would cost me $140 a month just for two of my medications because they aren't PBS, not even including the other medications that I am on for POTS. I will get some back from my health insurance whenever I decide to go in and rebate it.

My appointment with Charlotte - My doctor went alright, she's sending me for another ultrasound and bloods, I need answers between gastrointestinal and one other thing. She won't give me any medication to lose weight until we have the answers to that. I jumped on the scales and to my surprise I had lost 4kg! I know that may not be a huge number but for someone with hypothyroidism and being on steroids that's a good amount. I don't want to go super crazy on them, I just need 10kg-15kg and I will be happy. As I was leaving she yelled out I know I am a meanie... But I understand why she won't give me them until we have answers.

I know this post isn't that interesting, but this is the life of Kaen and Chloe; who knows what happens next. 

Anchored Memories

Where do I even start, my life is a mixture of simplicity and chaos. In moments your whole life can change, in a moment everything you once knew can stop on a dime. I'm Chloe, I am 25 years old. I have a twin sister who can switch between being my best friend to someone I wish would be my best friend I have a brother, a tender soul with a hard but loving exterior. Two other siblings, both lovely ladies with opposite personalities. My mother, a lovely woman too young to become a widow at the tender age of 43.

On the 26th of September 2014, 16 Days after my 23rd birthday; at roughly 7.30pm my father was ejected from this world and into the next. Suddenly my family structure changed... We became closer as a family, even though our hearts were broken and tears fell like a glass to the ground.

We started to say "I love you" ending conversations. We call each other more often. As the hours turned into days, days turned into weeks, weeks somehow turned into months. Suddenly it was 5.30am on the 26th September 2015, there I was sitting outside of my mothers house watching the waves as they pushed closer to the shore. I sat there and attempted to place the words in my head and the grief I felt.

I decided at that point I needed a change. I decided to get back into photography, a passion I had neglected for years, So I bought a new camera. I started to take images of all the things that I could look back at in time and to be able to remember the glorious events. I opened my own small business "Anchored Memories" which has given me ample opportunities over the past 12 months.

The basis of this blog is so I can see the development throughout the next 18 months of study to become a nurse. This isn't my first time studying, I completed year 12 in 2009. I than completed a certificate and diploma in Community Service Work. I then went on to start studying at the University of Wollongong majoring in Psychology, changed to a Major in Sociology and a minor in Cultural Studies which I am five classes short of graduating. I had spent years with my head stuck in books gaining qualifications to pushing myself into studying classes that have led myself to one conclusion. I want / need to become a nurse.

I have spent a lot of time back and forth between public and private hospitals, you see I experience depression, anxiety, post traumatic stress disorder and a debate between my psychiatrist on whether or not I have borderline personality disorder. I am not ashamed to admit that I have psychiatric disorders, I know that struggling through these disorders will make me a stronger person. I've seen the differences between the private and public system and know that there is a high demand on psychiatric nurses in both systems.

In 2013 I was diagnosed with postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome, a condition that has plagued my everyday existence. From the moment I get out of bed I have two options; sitting down and letting my pulse drop or passing out and waking up on the floor. I've passed out in public, coming too with people standing around like I am some kind of sideshow freak, I have told strangers to politely fuck off.

Now why I have decided to name my blog "The adventures of Kaen and Chloe" is because after 3.5 years I had managed to stay out of the public psychiatric ward. When my anxiety is extremely bad I begin to fidget, I need to hold onto something... Usually it is controlled by stress balls, after three days of being scheduled I needed something more. Something bigger, something soft, something I could hold onto... So here's where Kaen came in, after numerous calls and the help of strangers Kaen was placed in my arms.

During the six days I was scheduled, this bear that smelt of beautiful incense became my rock. From moments where I would do anything for a hug off my parents, the moment I felt alone, the moment I needed to vent and hugging him was the only way to lower my sudden units of distress score. I learnt that sometimes while you're alone, you can take comfort in the smaller things.

To reiterate; I am Chloe, I am 25 years old and am about to begin the 18 month journey of becoming an enrolled nurse.