Lost in Translation

Yesterday I saw my psychiatrist. He’s been fabulous with me since I moved over to France, the medication he has prescribed has stabilised my moods and made life much easier and he takes into account my physical health and family situation and stuff too. He looks at the whole picture which is good, but he speaks French.

My French isn’t all that good, it’s getting better, but it’s still “getting by” rather than fluent, and his English, while much better than my French, is still not fluent. Don’t get me wrong, I’m lucky to have such a fabulous psychiatrist with any English at all, but I do feel that things get lost in translation.

So yesterday when I tried to express my worries about my lack of memory and concentration and constant tiredness, I did feel somewhat brushed off by his response of “It’s hard, but you must accept it.”

Maybe he’s right, maybe I do need to just learn to live with it. But I’m 26, I shouldn’t be having to write down every little thing just so I remember it. I shouldn’t be completely unable to recall any memories of family holidays or recent events. When someone asks if I remember something it should at least ring a bell, but no, I get nothing. Important memories are all completely lost and that is very hard to deal with.

I asked for tips and he suggested eating more of certain fruits, writing everything down, reading more and watching quiz TV shows.

I guess I was hoping he would change my meds, or reduce them, or give me some work around, I was hoping for something, anything, that would make life a bit easier, a bit more ‘normal.’ I wasn’t prepared to be told to deal with it.

And given that it looks like I’ll be on these meds for life I guess I best get used to it sooner rather than later, but damn it’s hard, I just want to remember.

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