Everything happens for a reason

As promised, here's an update after my visit to the hospital last week for the review of my medication.

I've met with my new psychiatrist and she was really easy to talk to. I felt very comfortable and didn't feel I needed to hold anything back. She asked how things had been most recently and took a brief history on how things had been since I was in my early teens. Obviously she can't make a judgement on one visit, but she has said that there's a possibility I am bipolar, or perhaps I may have a personality disorder. Adding to that I may have a combination of the two.

She's started me on a new drug called Olanzapine. This is a mood stabilizer and should be more effective than the previous drug I was on, Citalopram. 

I've never heard of Olanzapine so I did a bit of a digging around online to try and get some information and patient experience about it. Pretty mortified to see that there's a huge possibility I'm going to gain weight! I'm only 59kg so I can afford to put on a few lbs but I'm already very conscious about my weight so I don't want to get fat, then have something else to get depressed about. I've spoken to my GP in regards to the weight gain and she's said not everybody gains weight and there are things I can do to prevent it, eating healthily etc. 

Also, Olanzapine can increase the risk of getting diabetes so I am going to have to go for regular blood test to monitor the sugar levels in my blood.

Although the weight gain is a bit daunting, I do realise I have to try something to help me feel better and get back to being the person I was before. 

You'll notice I've not blogged for just over 10 days. I've not had a brilliant couple of weeks to be honest. I've had a few 'crazy' weekends with lots of alcohol and occasionally I've had drugs. To add to this, yesterday my employer terminated my contract on the grounds of ill health. The time I was taking off with my illness couldn't be sustained by the company any more and to be fair to them, they have been very supportive over the last couple of years. It didn't come as a shock to me at all. In some respects I'm kind of relieved. I was sick to death of constantly having to answer to someone who didn't have a clue about mental illness. They were always asking me why I'd not been diagnosed yet and didn't understand that these things don't happen over night. As well as this I HATED talking to some of their moronic customers. 

On the other hand, I'm now unemployed and we all know what it's like for people trying to find jobs these days. I'm in a really unpredictable situation but I do believe everything happens for a reason.

Never the less, I'm going to keep my chin up and crack on with job hunting. I'm not in any rush to find a job immediately as I've just started taking the Olanzapine and it's making me extremely tired and causing me difficulty getting out of bed (a side effect my GP had made me aware of).

I'll keep you posted.

Tay Tay :-)

Film Review: Pontypool *Spoiler*

Susan and co. only wanted to come inside for a Hobnob and a coffee

I want that 95 minutes of my life back!

Pontypool is a film about a virus that breaks out in a small town called Pontypool in Ontario. 98% of the film is set inside a small local radio station with three characters Grant Mazzy (radio announcer), Sydney Briar (Station manager) and Laurel-Ann Drummond (Technical assist). One day the morning team start getting reports of outbreaks of group violence around the town. Quickly they begin to realise a virus has broken out and the town is being destroyed by it.

The first half of the film is pretty gripping. The only visual you have of the carnage that's unfolding outside the radio station is one that's inside your mind. You're forced to use your imagination because the morning team only know what's going on outside via their 'eye in the sky' reporter Ken (He's actually just a man on a hill with a sound effect machine). He describes scenes outside of chaos which lead to numerous deaths amongst the town's people. Having only your mental image of what could be going on outside, you're left wanting more. There's further on and off contact with Ken where he describes more disturbing scenes followed by a bizarre transmission that reveals the virus is being spread through the English language.

So it comes to light that the virus seems to spreading through the English language. 'How interesting', I thought but no, not really. At this point I lost interest as I felt (and the people watching with me agreed) that the film had lost the plot. It became confusing on how the virus was spreading. It didn't help that I wasn't really bothered if the morning team were killed and eaten. The only one that had a personality was Grant and he was an arrogant prick. Laurel-Ann starts acting erratic and repeats the word 'miss' over and over again but it's not explained why.
A doctor turns up and explains that he thinks only certain words in the English language are infectious and that certain words affect certain people but, again, there's no indication as to which words. Surely if only certain words affected certain people, then any selection of words could infect anyone, in which case does it really matter if it was only certain words?

They decide speaking foreign languages will prevent them from catching the virus so Grant and Sydney begin speaking in French. The doctor speaks in a different language but after a few repetitions of a word it looks like he's gone and caught the dreaded virus too. BOO HOO.
After some zombies from outside manage to break into the station, Grant and Sydney retire from a sound booth they've been hiding in and take refuge in a different room. At this point Sydney starts to repeat the word 'kill' over and over as Grant tries to convince her 'kill' means 'kiss' in a bid to disinfect her (yeah I was lost too). This works so the pair go back to the sound booth to get on air and begin spouting a series of random and contradictory words, making no sense whatsoever, in an attempt to cure the infected. During this time there is a loud voice coming from above the building claiming to be the authorities and instructing them to come off air 'NOW'. The duo ignore the demands and a countdown begins as Sydney joins Grant in the booth for a kiss. As the countdown ends the screen goes dark, implying that the radio station has been wiped out and that is the end.

What a load of old shit! But, DO NOT turn it off yet. If you want to get any kind of satisfaction from this film then you need to listen to the voices over the credits. I won't spoil that here though.
The scene after the credits have rolled? Don't even get me started. Also, the 6.7 rating on imdb is not justified.


Tay Tay :-)

Noise Anxiety

Over the last couple of years or so I've been experiencing weird reactions to specific types of sounds. Sometimes, certain sounds can make me feel tense, irritable or even slightly aggressive.
I'd been watching a film last night and there were many moments in it where certain words or phrases were being repeated over and over again. At one point during the film I thought I might have to leave the room because I felt like I was going to go crazy.
Anyway, I thought about it afterwards and recollected times where I'd be watching a game show and all of a sudden (as they do) the audience will start cheering and clapping loudly and I'd have to either leave them room or turn it off. I'm not sure what it is that does it but it does my head in!
Sirens too, although I'm aware they probably drive most people mad, I start to feel like I'm going to lose it and smash something if they go on for too long.
This doesn't always occur though. I like to listen to music at home and often go out to bars and clubs where loud music is being played. These times it doesn't seem to bother me.

I was a little bit concerned about this so I decided to Google some terms last night to see if anyone else had the same feelings towards noise as I do and (surprise surprise!) I'm not alone.
Noise anxiety is a general term which can be used to describe a variety of different conditions for example; Phonophobia is a fear of loud noises, Misophonia is an intolerance to certain sounds and Hyperacusis is an over-sensitivity to noises in a certain auditory range. These can all sometimes cause pain or stress. Some people, it appears, are more at risk from this than others. Usually people that already suffer from an anxious or depressed condition.

I've got a meeting with a doctor up at the hospital next week. Since this is new to me I'm going to discuss this with them and see what they say so I'll update you about it after I've been.


Thanks for reading :-)

Tay Tay

Updated: Whitney Houston dies, aged 48

Whitney Houston has been found dead in her Beverly Hilton Hotel room on Saturday afternoon.

Whitney Houston Aug 1963 - Feb 2012

Whitney was an artist I grew up listening to, so to me she has always been a bit of a hero. News of her death has just broken and I am truly saddened.

Some of my favourite Whitney records were 'Greatest Love of All', 'Didn't We Almost Have it All', 'Queen of the Night' and 'Bodyguard' is one of my most favourite movies ever!

In her career she was the most awarded female act of all time with awards including 2 Emmy's, 6 Grammy's and 30 Billboard Music Awards. She was also the only artist to chart 7 consecutive No.1 Billboard Hot 100 hits. 

In recent years her career had taken a tumble due to her personal life. Some people may argue that because of her life style choices it was only a matter of time before something like this would happen, but I think we can all agree 48 is a very young age to go and she was a true talent who will be missed by millions.

The Grammy awards will pay tribute the this artist, with Jennifer Hudson performing a tribute.



This amateur video clip has now surfaced online which shows Whitney performing on the Friday before her death.

RIP Whitney

<3 

Not the sharpest knives in the drawer

I've been working in a call centre for a little under four years and having had the week from hell, so I thought I'd blog/rant about it.

To put you in to perspective, I work for a mail order catalogue company (that shan't be named) and my job roll is customer service. My friends often view my job as a source of humour due to the ridiculous nature of the calls I receive and the sheer stupidity of the people that call me. Some days I'm left pulling my hair out!

Take yesterday for instance, a woman calls me because her mother has an account with us but has passed away. While she's telling me this she's chuckling away to herself. Why? Why on Earth is she laughing about her mother's death? She continues to tell me a very dull and long drawn out story how 'Mum' was moved from one hospital to another over the course of a year and in the end her mother was left to bleed to death at home. Delightful. Then she tells me she has her own account and would like to discuss that one. I get the account up on my screen and see she's not paid us anything in months. Why you ask? Well, the woman states she's not been paying because, 'I've been really stressed with all this business with my mum that I'm having really heavy periods. Some days I'm bleeding all over the place.'
I mean c'mon. I am a man. I am a gay man. I am a gay man that doesn't really like to think about lady parts. I am a gay man that doesn't really want to think about some big, fat, size 20 lady part menstruating all over the place.


Now this is something that just plain winds me up. We have a process, because of the DPA, where I have to ask a customer for their full name as shown on the account. This could be Mrs Rita Consuela Mambojambo.
Me - Can I take your full name please?
Her - Mrs Mambojambo
Me - And your first and middle name please?
Her - Rita
Me - And your middle name?
Her - I don't have a middle name &lt;----- HERE. This will now continue for 5 minutes with the woman arguing that she doesn't have a middle name, and not understanding why I won't take her query without it.
Then, a miracle occurs! All of a sudden Mrs Mambojamo, who's had the middle name for 62 years, remembers she has one. 'Oh, you mean Consuela.' Oh, Consuela. Yes. The name you were fucking born with. The one your parents cruelly gave you when black and white television still existed.

A tiny little thing that bugs the shit out of me, people that phone to make card payments and then when asked for the card details they say, 'It's upstairs, I'll just go and get it.' Why don't you have the sodding thing with you? Acting like you're surprised I've asked. Don't get me wrong, it's their phone bill at 10p per minute but it's wasting my time.
Sometimes when I ask for the card number I'll get back, 'What, my card number?' No. Not yours. Mine. I'm going to pay the fucking thing for you, moron.
On Wednesday a woman phones to make a payment. When I ask her for the card details she tells me she doesn't know what I'm talking about and doesn't have a payment card. WAKE UP YOU STUPID HOE.

About a year ago, woman calls up to tell me that she'd like a refund on a cardigan she bought from us as she wasn't happy with the quality.
Me - Have you returned it to us?
Her - No
Me - Well we can't refund it unless you return it to us.
Her - Well I've taken it to a charity shop now as it was shoddy. I want my money back.
Seriously?! If I'm being unreasonable then please, somebody tell me. Does that make any sense to anyone at all? That's like me taking an empty bag back to River Island and asking them to issue me with a refund for the value of the goods that were in it. Douche bag.

A man calls on Tuesday to tell me we've sent him a bill for £2.99 and he doesn't owe anything. I check his account and he's not ordered from us in a while and his balance is zero. I advised him of this and ask him to read out what he's received.
'Well, it says my account number, then Order No. and a gap. Then size, and a gap. Then colour, and a gap. Then total and it's blank then after it says £2.99 for delivery.'
He's looking at a fucking order form. If any of these people had half a brain they'd be dangerous.

I can always tell someone's intelligence by one simple thing. 'I'd like to order a fox fur coat.' Fox you say dear? I think maybe you mean faux.

At this point I have to add that I do have a very short temper at work and have very little patience with anyone, no matter what their sob story is.


A lady would like to order a cardigan from us but, unfortunately, the colour she would like is out of stock. BOO HOO :'(
'Do you think you could just nip down to the warehouse and make me one?' Oh yes. I'll just run down to the warehouse now, grab the fabric scissors and the sewing machine and it'll be on it's way. Live on the Isle of Man you say? I will personally bring it over, in the helicopter, within the hour. AND I'M THE ONE TAKING THE TABLETS. Do me a favour! If they're normal I never want to be.

Then there is just the sheer rudeness of some people. A woman calls in the week because we've over charged her 0.9p on her statement. Imagine the holiday you could have on 0.9p. I fully understand why she'd pay 10p a minute on a phone call, to ask for the 0.9p back. With something like that it's not worth the argument so I took it off. Do I get a thank you or a polite goodbye? NO.
'Oh, aren't you the one who wields the power.' Wields the power? WIELDS THE FUCKING POWER? I know exactly where you live. I'll be round your house wielding a fucking axe in a minute. Sarcastic bitch.

I've MANY more stories but I'm winding myself up just thinking about it. Toodles.


:-)