Today, I had a physical health appointment at a mental health clinic. Beean Beeale came along for fluffy emotional support, and I was so glad I brought him — I needed all the emotional support I could get.

It was a rough morning with Corrupted Clippy (my eating disorder thoughts). I woke up and all I could hear was Clippy screaming at me to eat less today. Ugh. Despite that, I downed a load of water (as it said to do that on the letter, for the ECG and bloods) and I got ready and left for my appointment.

After walking along the river, making cute little videos with Beean Beeale, I headed up the ridiculously steep hill to my medical health check. Honestly, I swear it gets steeper EVERY time. At this point, I’m convinced the hill is part of the stress test. Forget medical equipment — if you can survive that climb, your heart is fine.

I thought about Gladiators again, specifically the travelator, and then I realised how fitting it was that the NHS clinic is on top of this massive hill. It’s the perfect metaphor for how hard you have to work to get help. By the time I got there, I had to wait outside for fifteen minutes before they let me in. My hips were absolutely screaming at me, and by the time I was finally inside, they were on fire.

The Medical Appointment

The first thing they did was check my blood pressure. It was 114/72, which is higher than my usual, but considering I just climbed a mountain and stood for fifteen minutes in agony, I’m not shocked. The doctor and nurse were really lovely though, so I quickly forgot about being annoyed and chilled out for the ECG.

They mentioned that the ECG stickers had changed, which I was initially happy about because the old ones were far too sticky. Except, the new ones kept falling off. The doctor had to keep coming back over to prod me in the chest, trying to get them to stay on, which was hilarious given that he had just finished raving about how much better they were.

As I lay there wired up, all I could think about was Cyberpunk 2077. I imagined myself in Vik’s clinic, getting cyberware installed. “I’ll take a new skeleton and joints, please. I swear I’ll pay you back later.” Like V, my heart was completely fine, and also like V, my head is an absolute mess and I have an annoying passenger in my head named Clippy instead of Johnny Silverhand.

Then came the weigh-in.

I was fully clothed, wearing heavy boots, and they had told me to drink a load of water beforehand. Of course, the number was different from my home scale — by 3kg.

Clippy LOVED THAT.
“See? That’s your real weight.”
“You should eat less today.”
“Maybe we don’t need to increase after all.”

Ugh today is going to be REALLY hard.

The Bombshell: Another Psychiatrist Bites the Dust

After bloods (which, for once, went smoothly — no bruises thanks to the skill of the doctor), they asked when my next psychiatrist appointment was. I told them I didn’t know because I hadn’t heard anything. That’s when they dropped the bomb.

“Oh, that might be because your psychiatrist is leaving.”

YOU CAN’T BE SERIOUS

I laughed out of sheer absurdity. I’ve literally lost count at how many psychiatrists I’ve had in the last two years. The last one was gone after two appointments. The one before that was also gone after two appointments. At this point, I’m collecting psychiatrists like Pokémon, except none of them evolve into something actually helpful.

I can’t even explain how frustrating it is to re-explain FORTY years of mental health history to a new psychiatrist every few months. The nurse asked why I was laughing, and I just joked about how I swear it’s not me, they just keep quitting.

After the offhand comment about psychiatrist musical chairs I left and couldn’t wait to meet my son in town.

Your Son Has Joined Your Battle Party

I texted my son when I was done, thinking he’d leave immediately, but he assumed I’d take way longer — he wasn’t even dressed yet. Since I had some time to kill, I wandered into the cheap shops on the hunt for food deals.

That’s when I hit the jackpot. I found Biscoff biscuits covered in Belgian chocolate and a giant packet of regular Biscoff for £1. Absolute steal. I’ve been loving dipping them in my coffee, and I figured my son would LOVE the chocolate ones.

Somehow, I didn’t have to wait long for him — or more likely, I zoned out looking at food again and lost all sense of time, because it felt like he showed up in an instant. We’re both trying to save money, so no window shopping today.

My son’s been struggling lately, and I could tell today was one of those days. Usually, he likes wandering around the shops, but today? No interest at all. I think he’s in burnout mode. He’s autistic, and I recognise the signs. I made him brownies last night to cheer him up, but unfortunately, brownies aren’t the magical fix-all they were when he was seven.

We headed to Starbucks, where I ordered him food and his favourite mocha, and I got myself an Americano. We both sat quietly, taking little videos of our plushies and sipping our coffees.

Meanwhile, I was stewing over the psychiatrist situation. My brain finally processed the full reality of it, and suddenly, I was really annoyed about it. I was also annoyed because the clean bill of health was just FANTASTIC news for Clippy, “You’re not even that bad!”.

I swallowed my anger with coffee and a few of my new Biscoff biscuits, trying to focus on filming Beean Beeale enjoying his coffee instead. At least our plushies were having fun.

Once we finished our coffees, we headed outside, took a few more plushie videos, and then made our way to Marks & Spencer.

There were IMPORTANT SUPPLIES I needed.

Marks and Spencer: The Cheesy Hot Cross Bun Fetch Quest

“Your fetch quest mission: find the elusive cheesy hot cross buns. They are VERY necessary. Saving the galaxy can wait. This is a timed special Easter event mission that MUST be completed today.”

With all the courage of V storming Arasaka Tower, I stepped into Marks & Spencer. It was time to hunt for cheesy hot cross buns. This is a mission I HAVE to complete this week, whether Clippy likes it or not. I have to buy them, and then I HAVE to eat them. There is no, “Absolutely not.” There is only cheesy perfection.

After grabbing other essential supplies — which included three jars of gherkins (because I am having completely unhinged vinegar cravings) and various salad items — we made our way to the bread section.

And there it was – The yellow orange packet. Cheesy hot cross buns.

I put them straight in the basket, grinning like an idiot because they actually had them. I half-expected them to be sold out thanks to TikTok influencers constantly calling food items ‘viral’ and ‘impossible to find.’ I was mentally preparing for some kind of cheesy hot cross bun queue, but nope — no one cared.

I guess viral means something different now. Although, if I see that Dubai chocolate on my feed one more time, I might actually lose it.

My son also completed his mission of grabbing his favourite meal — pysgod a sglodion.

Now, let me explain. There are fish and chips, and then there are sglodion. Yes, pysgod a sglodion is technically just the Welsh translation of fish and chips, but they are not the same thing.

Sglodion have weight. Sglodion have girth. They are not fries. They are not regular chips. They are big. They are beefy. They are elite. And my son LOVES THEM.

I told him he could get two, we were baffled that the meal is only £3.75 because fish and meals are super expensive these days. He was super happy that now he has pysgod a sglodion for tomorrow too. With that, and after Beean played in all the flower displays, we declared the mission complete and headed home.

Exhaustion Doesn’t Quite Explain It

After walking along the river and taking even more videos and photos of Beean, we finally got home into the warmth — a huge relief for both of us. We sat down, started editing our photos and videos, and I put together a little TikTok recap of my day from Beean’s perspective. (You can check it out here, since WordPress won’t let me embed TikTok videos.)

After dinner, I just felt so tired of everything.

I’m tired of the NHS musical chairs shenanigans.
I’m tired of asking for help.
I’m tired of feeling like this.
I’m tired of dealing with Clippy and being chronically under-fuelled.
I’m tired of things I should be looking forward to — like cheesy hot cross buns — being a battle.
Most importantly, I am EXHAUSTED of being so damn tired.

I’m really glad my son came to meet me today — that was so nice of him, especially considering he’s not feeling great himself. He offered, and well, there was also the incentive of Starbucks. At least our plushies had fun, and yes, it’s good that my heart and blood pressure are fine, considering the strain Clippy has been putting on them. I’ll get my blood results back in a week or so.

For now, I think I’m just going to spend the rest of the evening chilling out and watching TikTok. I’ve been trying to get back into macramé as a distraction, but after today, I’m far too exhausted.

I don’t know if the cheesy hot cross bun timed event will happen tonight, but at least I have gherkins to keep up with my insatiable vinegar craving.

I had to add this song, because another psychiatrist bites the dust.

(My physical health appointment was Friday 28th February, I wrote this on the day, but, due to ED Awareness Week posts, I am posting this now. I will catch you up this week)