Yesterday was a very full day. In the morning, I went to my first WRAP (Wellness Recovery Action Plan) meeting. Yet another relatively “new concept” developed in the States and siezed upon by British service agencies in an effort to cure the country’s ills. (I don’t mean that with as much cynicism as it probably sounds; it’s just that we have been introduced to many of these “new concepts” in my own job with varying degrees of success).
I have a history of tutoring groups myself, so it was a strange twist of fate for me to now be sitting in one of the chairs opposite the whiteboard. The information was a little more interesting than I had anticipated, and I did actually find myself thinking about getting to the workbook assignments we are expected to do by next week. I’ll probably write more about the course on here when I’m not so darn sleepy.
I had an hour to kill between WRAP wrapping up (groan) and the creative writing group starting at 1pm, so I used the time well by having a verbal stand-off with a bank teller who didn’t want to give me any money unless I had a PIN for my card. I explained that I intentionally threw my PIN away years ago, because having a PIN makes it too easy for me to access my money. Without a PIN, I can only access funds by physically going to the bank – and that’s just how I like it. There was more banter than that, but the end result was that I left (as Anne Robinson would say) with nothing.
However, I went back into the same bank ten minutes later and saw the cashier next to her, who promptly gave me my money off the card – without a PIN! (I wonder how the conversation went on their tea break …).
I bought a used tripod at the Flea Market, and toddled off to Creative Writing, where I gave my Bert story its first public airing to an audience of three. It’s great … One person had written a rather profound third and final work in a trilogy of poems about the Bible book of Jonah from three different perspectives; this one being from the perspective of the citizens of Ninevah. Another had written a deep and mysterious (think Roald Dahl’s Tales of the Unexpected) insight into a world where skin never heals, and the repercussions of such a world that had little choice but to pursue constant perfection. And then there was me … who’d written a story about a penguin … called Bert.
Left Creative Writing a bit early so I could walk all the way to an appointment with the psych on the other side of town. True to form, it was yet another psych I hadn’t met previously, so, yet again, much of our time was silent while he read my notes. I assume there must be a finite number of psychs that I can possibly see – so, I hope that, eventually, I might see the same person twice! But this one was a nice enough man, and he decided to raise my Seroquel medicine up to 75mg per day.
And today, I went to my first CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) session …. which I hated …. and probably won’t ever go again.
Tomorrow, there is a TAC (Team Around a Child) meeting at my son’s school.
Ahhh, Wonderland is becoming a very busy place all of a sudden. Early days.
I wonder how long it will last?