I knew they weren't listening!

My Art Therapy came to an end this time last week, as my therapist is no longer going to travel in from Ipswich to work at the Colchester hospital. Blast. This is the one continual contact within the mental health system that I have had over the last 6 years.

The psychiatric service has been a joke. You get one half hour appointment every three months. You NEVER see your consultant, only one of his/her team of trainees and very rarely the same one twice. Most of the time they haven't had time to read your file, so much of the appointment id taken up with basic questions about your background and family situation. Then they'll say, so what can we do for you today? DUH.



But, useless as it mostly is, I need contact with this service as they are the ones who monitor my meds, change them, introduce new prescriptions, and, the thing I thought most important, note whether I am having the weird hallucinations that accompany the bipolar when I'm under any extra stress.

When my Art Therapy stopped last week, I asked my therapist if could enquire when my next p-doc appointment was, as I hadn't had one since the autumn. He did. He called me after I'd left and said, 'I'm very sorry, I had no idea, but they discharged you.' They hadn't even had the professional courtesy to tell him, let alone say anything to me.

Soon as I got home I rattled off an angry letter to the consultant about this, why was this done, why was it done so unprofessionally, and who was I to go to about meds and hallucinations if they had left me out here on my own?

Appointment with my GP this morning.
She didn't knew anything about it. Had a look back through my files. Oh yeah, she says, we got a letter in June saying they were going to discharge you because you hadn't attended a few appointments [for non attendance, read rebooked them, as they constantly gave me times I couldn't attend].

I then had one more appointment with them after this, during which they said to increase one med and come off another. Nothing was said to me about closing the file.

So here I am, with bi-polar II,
permanently on anti-depressants,
for the last 18 months on anti-anxiety pills,
and regulary taking anti-psychotics for the creepy, Hellish things I hear and experience when under stress,
the main carer of an elderly parent with vascular dementia,
no local support network, 
and my only regular help, art therapy has stopped,
and that's it, I'm discharged.

The GP showed me their letter about it. It even says I was suicidal in my last appointment. But hey, it notes that I dressed ok, was polite, made sense and seemed to have no personal hygiene problems, so I guess that means I'm ok. Maybe you need to be a smelly, drugged up alcoholic to get help.

REALLY glad I wrote that angry letter now.

No reply so far, which is no surprise. PALS is my next step, the Patient Advice & Liaison service. Big, big complaint coming their way.

Just as well I'm not suicidal any more, isn't it? Do you think, if my health problem was heart disease, I would have been discharged still with problems?

Time does help, doesn't it?

It wasn't till late Monday that I started to feel a bit more relaxed, but I still haven't had a night's sleep. This is mainly because of guilt, and things going over and over, conversations going through my head. Then my head runs away with itself in imaginary conversations, doing the whole day how I'd have liked it to have been done. Before I know it two hours of these scenes have played across my mind.

Thank you for lovely support. It does make a huge difference.

*** *** ***

Years ago, 1999, I was bullied so much at my last paid job that I took two weeks' off work with depression. I never went back because facing going back just made it worse, and I had had 9 months of it. I knew going back would be harder. So I was signed off sick.

I made an official complaint about the bullying and they investigated it and said that it hadn't happened. I was given a copy of the report and was stunned by the 'witness statements'. Ihad not expected colleagues to stick up for me, but neither had I expected them to INVENT stories, things that hadn't happened, utter lies. I was so shocked. Naive, I suppose.

The only person who had planned to stick up for me had been retired early and so wasn't questioned.

I appealed and lost.

Why am I writing about this? Well, last weekend brought it all back.

What came back in vivid technicolour is the sense of loss of self- in other words I no longer knew if I was ok as a person- I asked myself, "Is this me, in these descriptions? Am I this terrible person? Am I one of those people who just can't see how awful they are?" It's a dizzying experience.

Well I have been back there.

Today less so. Time is smoothing down the edges of guilt's claws, and tempering my ancient, post-Catholic duty of 'self examination'.

*** *** ***

No answer to the email I sent after the events. But they went on holiday Tuesday, so I don't think they had time to read it, and even if they had checked their email before leaving, it was a very long one.

Luvbug and I sent them flowers, delivered Monday. We spent time to carefully word the card so that I was not grovelling and wallowing in saying sorry as I feel strongly that I was provoked. There was right and wrong on both sides I guess. But we said something like, please know I would not have wanted the evening to end that way. Then we wished them a happy new year and a safe and happy holiday (they went to Mexico).

A text came from my brother Monday afternoon saying thank you for the beautiful flowers; we'll straughten things out in the new year. A huge weight went off me then, I think because the ball is left in their court. There is no need for it to hang over us at Christmas.

I can't help but feel relieved though, that they are away for a fortnight and so will be 1000's of miles away at Christmas so I don't have to worry about that other, big, sometimes fraught day!

*** *** ***

My old school friend, Jo, came up on Monday and we toured the shops. Luvbug gave me generous funds for a girlie lunch. She cheered me up no end.

*** *** ***

Monday night and Tuesday I have had to take my level-outer pills as I have felt myself going *UP* too far and too rapidly.

In bi-polar there can be the misperception that when you have an up it is all great and enjoyable! But really it means talking too fast, thinking too fast, doing 10 things at once, can't sit still, and then eventually headaches and eye pain and if you're not careful, hallucinations.

So much as I would like to coast along on the wave (as I do sometimes just because the extra energy means I can so much more done!) I have taken my trifluoperazine like a good girl. Mind you, it is now 1 a.m. and I am not in bed. Oops!

*** *** ***

Up early tomorrow; to mum's by 8 as she has a washing machine delivery. Can they give a better ETA? No, just some time between 6 and 10. (6????????? Does anyone really THINK of washing machines at 6???)

Can't believe Christmas is so close. Hadn't realised that school, and therefore Luvbug's work days, comes to an end this Friday. Stroof!!! Where has the last 1/4 of this year gone???? Strange how the passing of time is sometimes helpful, and other times so fast it is scary.

*** *** ***

Hope you're not all under winter colds and bugs out there. The weather has definitely gone wintry at last.... Bob The Bear has received an amazing sleigh in the post, which he'll blog about later. Now he looks out the window for snow every day :)

Holding on

Still here.
Thank you for your kind comments.


I stayed on the sofa last night. Managed to sleep a couple of hours. Made a fuss of Scooter, whose sinus problem was having a noisy stage. When Kevin got up for work I gave Scooter his morning meds in a piece of raw pork, then kissed K 'have a nice day' and headed for bed.


A little more sleep, check-in with mum on phone at 9am, then downstairs to check on Scooter who was........ sitting outside in the sun!


I kept an eye on him out there, and as the sun moved round so I put down blankies farther and farther down the garden to catch the warm rays. Eventually the roof of the house made it impossible to keep up. Eventually he retreated to indoors again.


Mum was up not long after 1. She has managed to get a bus here on her own for about 2 weeks now which is at once amazing and terrifying.


I cooked salmon for everyone. Scooter had a belly full.


I haven't eaten much this week, but I enjoyed my salmon pie and chips.


Still low. Cry when I think of Scooter not getting better.


Meeting up with Beanie on Sunday. Nervy but optimistic. Don't think I'm the best company at the mo.


I am saddest of all to see the summer go, especially when I see Scooter clinging to the last warm rays. He loves to lie in the sun. If only he were going into summer with this illness, not winter.


I can't think very much. I am worn out.

V low :(

I've been sinking for a while, but bobbing up and down really, so not hitting the bottom.

These last few days it's almost undescribable but I'll try for you:

• it's like when your computer goes into 'safe mode', shutting down everything but the essentials...
• it's like being an origami shape that is now closing down inwards...
• it's like grief, heart wrenching, head spinning, grief;  intermittent periods of blankness despersed with seeringly sharp heartbreak and buckets of tears.

Saw the GP today. Sending me for bloodtests to test hormone levels and thyroid.

Then saw the art therapist, who told me to ring the team there, any time, whether he's there or not.

The pills don't work, not even the back up ones, so they've been increased.

I bought some brandy. But that doesn't work either.

Don't worry I only got a small bottle. I know it's not the answer. Just wanted a break from my head.

 1am here. Off to bed I suppose. Check on Scooter..... he is holding his own but not vrey animated, eating, a little. It's harder and harder to get the pills into him. A part of me has broken deep down and said, he is going.... he is fading away.... and I fought and fought that feeling and those words till I had no strength left, like it was my strength that kept him going, and now something deep down has let go...

Oh ignore me. I'm potty. I wish I could be normal.

Nosedive

NIght wanderings...then nightmares,then wanderings, then nightmares, then rock bottom, can't control the tears but must; mustn't let mum see them. Sneak into garden, into loo, into magazine, cook onions. Anything to hide them.

Today, or was it yesterday first, yes, yesterday, awoke on sofa. Luvbug off to work. This morning; awoke on floor in front of fire with Scooter. I am still in MOnday's clothes. But as I can't seem to remember what day it is....

Excuses excused me from appoinments. I fed my dinner to the birds.

Angry today, angry angry, couldn't find something. WHy is everywhere in this house such a mess? Understair cupboard; why so many boxes? So much packaging? OUT OUT OUT.

Luvbug and mother arrive mid cardboard exile. I overhear him guide my mother through the storm.

I stop for cups of tea. And Lorazepam. My friend today. I forget how many I've had. And a pregabalin. What the hell. Luvbug leans over me and strokes my arm. I tell him, sorry,sorry Im not normal. Just as he is saying I'm fine and that he loves me, that word 'sorry' turns into a rabbit, I mean a real, live, rabbit, and it runs along his arm and I smile. It's tiny and long and slim. Grey. I've seen a few of them since.

Visiting the depths again!!

Oh boy, I've left it weeks again! I keep forgetting to get online, and then most evenings, I am soooo tired, I just want to sprawl in front of the TV once we've dropped Mum off home.

I think it's partly a side effect of the pregabalin I was prescribed in January. I does knock me out. Another bad side effect: I've gained another stone (14lb). I wasn't warned this could happen and it really got me down. It went on in just 3 weeks and now I can't shift it. Go to Google and type in "pregabalin weight gain" and you'll get pages and pages of stuff; research, forums, drugs sites, all saying it makes you gain weight. Normally I'd have looked it up before taking it, but I was in such a bad way in January, I just wanted anything that would help so I just took it.

Mum's on it too. It can be prescribed for anxiety (me), pain, and seizures (mum). Guess what? She's put on over a stone too!! She needed to gain *some* weight, but now even she is gaining too much.

You go to the doctor and they just shrug, like it's so unimportant compared to what it's treating. But it *is* important, isn't it? It affects your fitness and you feel about yourself.

I've been keeping a food diary and also a log of my activity, to see if I get enough 'exercise'. I've got my bike out again and I'm walking a bit more. All this isn't always possible if you're feeling completely bushed though!

Let me know if you have any weight loss tips!!!!!

*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

Head-wise, I hit rock bottom a few weeks ago. One night I was crying so badly I went into an asthma attack which was quite scary and I was coughing for a few days afterwards.

I hadn't been as low as I was that day for a very long time and I really didn't want to hang on, but told myself I had to hang on for Luvbug, and Mum, and my gorgeous Scooter-cat, too.

It occurred to me- and sorry if this causes offence- but it occurred to me that dying for someone else is easy in comparison to living for them, once you are in so much pain inside you can't bear to go on otherwise. To carry on for someone else's sake alone can feel a lot harder than dying when you are down in that abyss.


*** *** *** *** *** *** *** ***

I've managed to do some cards for people but I'll put them in separate post so people don't have to visit this depressing stuff if they don't want to! LOL

Not coping

Lots of stress signs: bursting into tears, sleeping heavily and intermittently with mad dreams, snapping at everybody, stomping about in a bad temper. Heart rate is high. Feel fat fat fat and miserable. Tumbling thoughts and HEARING THINGS. Want to switch off.

I just can't cope with mum any more. Little of what she says makes sense. Even when I am not with her she calls, calls, calls. She can't work the tv any more. She can't follow a diagram or written notes either, we tried that. She says she has been hallucinating for 4-5 weeks, seeing people who are not there, faint people with white outlines.

I have seen her every day since 5th March. There is no help; social services say that as she can go to the lavatory herself with no need of help, she doesn't get a carer, and I get no help. That's it. Oh, they did offer grab rails for the bath, which she already has, or meals-on-wheels at £3.50 a day for lunch, which she tried, and we cancelled after a few weeks because she called them "foul" and refused to eat them.

So that's it then.

I told my GP, in tears, that I wasn't coping. She told me, oh well, you'll have to put her into a home then.

I asked the neurologist 2 weeks ago, and she told me to ask the churches.

I am almost giving up. Except I can't, can I? Because who else is there? I think I shall end up going to the wall. I'll reach the point where I can no longer see that I can't, and I'll take every pill I can find, altogether, at once. And then the authorities and relatives who SHOULD help will HAVE to come and pick up the pieces, won't they? There doesn't seem to be any other way out of this relentless situation.

Hanging on by my fingernails for Luvbug and Scooter ;)

Thank you for all the support out there. Some of you have even given your phone numbers- I am very moved that you would do so as that very generous of you. I do have an emergency number to ring if I get to 'that' stage. I might be up ringing it in the middle of the night quite soon.

Sorry to post such misery near Christmas. Even our little tree gave up the ghost! We will try to return it to the shop tomorrow....



CARFTERING has been updated too, if you can bear it!!!

Thank you!

Thank you for so many messages following the loss of Fluffy. I was overwhelmed! I have never received so many comments. It has really helped, really it has. Thank you all so much!

*** *** *** *** ***

Mum is OK. She had a little cry but, thankfully, it hasn't hit her badly like I feared it would. Here is the Christmas card I made for her. Actually it's the second one as she lost the first (!!!)

 *** *** *** *** ***

 Here is a photo taken on Fluffy's last evening.... Scooter is taking a drink and Fluff is by the fire... if you look closely you'll see that she didn't have the strength to rest her head on top of her paws in that Sphinx pose that cats love- her head is resting to one side of her toes....

 Luvbug took this photo of us on her last morning.....

I have cried buckets this week and my arms ache to cuddle and hold her.

I keep thinking I can hear her in the house. I don't know if this is the auditory hallucinations that I get under stress with the Bi-polar, or if it's just normal grief. I think probably the latter, so I shan't worry...

 *** *** *** *** ***

This morning a special parcel arrived from Ginger Jasper! Look at the gorgeous card- GJ in his Christmas finery!

He send me a beautifully soft bear, and some things for making momentoes of Fluffy.....

 ...a little album, and an empty bauble- you put a photo in it and hang it on the tree.
 

I think it would be a lovely tribute to Fluffy, especially as she always loved Christmas sparkly things. She used to lie underneath the tree belly-up and daze up through the branches at all the twinkling lights. She also used to attack tinsel and go worra worra worra........

Thanks, GJ! I was very moved to receive these things. It is very kind of you. Look- your photo is now overlooking our crib!

 *** *** *** *** ***

 Here is Scooter by our tree...

We bought ourselves a little 3ft one! It has fibre-optic tips that change colour slowly and it's quite relaxing to sit and gaze at it! Scooter really enjoyed himself like a kitten when I got the decorations out.

Here is our mantelpiece lit up.

We bought little LED strings of lights that work by battery. I put a bunch in a couple of vases, which are the big glows in the picture. These are good lights as they don't get hot.

 *** *** *** *** ***
I am trying to keep my chin up and have a good Christmas- I have wrapped all my presents and all the shopping is done. It's difficult when others say how miserable they are though! Mum told me straight she can't wait for Christmas to be over, and Luvbug has been down over lack of work- the schools just haven't been calling in supply staff these last few weeks. I do see their point of view and I do sympathise, but mood is contagious, isn't it? So it is hard to keep plodding on at the moment. I am managing ok, but feel like I'm using my emergency tank, know what I mean?!

In case you thought I'd dropped off the earth....

This is the first time this year I've sat out in the garden alone. It's gorgeous; sunny and warm. I've brought out the table and chairs.

I'm not completely on my own though, as it's Scooter's 5th or 6th time out. Yep, after a month indoors I have finally allowed him his freedom. As far as the fence, that is. And he has a collar, for the first time in many years, "just in case" his curiosity gets the better of him. My reward for such generosity? A bright, perfectly formed wee mousie, delivered to my doorstep with a chortle. Well, um, gosh, thanks, Scoob. I love you too!

***

Now I must insert belated thanks to my two friends Stardust and Bumblevee, who sent me lovely packages from far away, simply to say they were thinking of me. The contents were humbling in their generosity. I should have mentioned them before...... so sorry.....

***

It's hard to get online. I have some lovely photo's to share. The wisteria is out and as beautiful as it promised to be, and I have also discovered a Japanese peony. Its flower is the size of my hand :)

But my days are still- up a lot at night trying to calm Fluffy's meowing- dozing in the morning to catch up with sleep- seeing mum in the afternoon, shopping, talking, trying to reassure etc.- cooking in the evening- taking mum home- then bed or an hour or so with the radio or tv, exhausted. When to blog? Or email, for that matter. Or anything else.

***
I am feeding the hedgehogs still; 4 in our garden the other night. And I saw a fox across the road. And a squirrel on our fence, twice. And today, baby starlings are having their first tour of the world outside the nest with their parents. So life goes on all around. Nature is a great soother of nerves. Oh and the emergency blue pills (!). Took one last night. They do help.
Yesterday was bad. It is building up, you see. I should remember the effect that stress and tiredness have on the bi-polar doobry-watnot.... yesterday I kept crying, I felt such a dead-weight inside me. Mum says she's lonely. But I see her every day. If only my siblings would call, send her a postcard or something.

***

Fluffy has joined us in the garden. Which means Scooter is going to try to show her that it's all his. Must go, before fur flies......

Don't know what to say any more...

I showed Mum some photo's of the bungalow she' buying. She didn't remember anything about the house move, so we are planning to take her up to our place on Saturday for the day, and while there, arrange with the Estate Agent another viewing of the bungalow.

So anyway, I thought it would be best to show her some pic's of it, so that it wouldn't be a big shock on the day. I found some photo's of the place this evening and showed her them. "OH YES!!" she said, and seemed happy, as she admired the pictures of the bungalow's interior....

....and shortly after, she was a fit of worry, chewing her lip, clenching her hands.

SHIT SHIT SHIT

Shouldn't have shouldn't have shouldn't have.

Didn't think.

Bugger.

She had got past the worry and was looking forward to it.
Now we're back at square one- rambling worries like this:
don't know what to do for the best, don't know if I should do it, how do I move? Should I? What do you think? How do I move the furniture? Do I have to take the carpets with me? How do I move all this stuff? What about all the books? What if some of the papers they need are missing? What about the stuff in that cupboard? Nothing has been signed yet has it?

I KNOW these are natural worries that ANYONE would go through with a house move, let alone someone who hasn't moved address for 27 years. But I have had to answer these queries 20 times over BEFORE this latest seizure. Now the seizure has wiped all the answers again. So I have to be patient, and humouring, and quiet and gentle. Again. Again. Again.

Not sure I am up to it. I HAVE to be, dammit. I HAVE to be.

But I am crumbling inside.

Can anyone who hasn't been here possibly understand how exhausting it is, to answer and reassure over the same thing, over and over? And knowing it will just pop up again the next day, or a few days after, and then you'll have to do it again?

I have this laptop -thanks be to Luvbug for getting the mobile access sorted out!- and I have treated myself to a few craft magazines this week. But I cannot lose myself in these things for more than 5 or 10 minutes at a time because then another question pops up and I have to address it. Even if I already did. Just now, in fact.

I have emergency back-up pills for when I am getting stressed. I know when I need to take them because the extremes of the bi-polar thing start to kick in: hearing things, for example. Man, I've been thinking there were mice upstairs but last night, if that was mice, they were wearing hobnail boots...... but if I take one of the pills I'll be wooooozy. I won't be able to get up at 5 like yesterday or 6 like today..... and if I don't, and she has another seizure like last Friday morning's......

And then at the same time there is the guilt- I should be able to. When I was a child, how many times did I ask the same question?

But underneath it all, chewing away and getting bigger and bigger is the screaming fact that I have 3 siblings, and I'm doing this all without them.

NOT ONE CALL this week.

Then I find myself making excuses for one of them because he told me on Monday that he is seeing a P-doc. Ahhh poor thing, I thought. Yes, I must make allowances for that. He's in therapy.

WAIT A M....-?????????

SO AM I!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Just had a phone call from Luvbug..... nice and calm now.... ish. Mum is watching tv with the sound off again. She is staring at a shark. I have just put a stew on to cook. In half an hour we'll make dumplings........sorry to go on and on..... you don't have to read it, I just need to get it out...

A review of things, and a beary cook

Starting this blog was, I thought, a way to monitor how the ups and downs of bi-polar affect my creativity. And vice versa. If I am low, can I still draw? And if I can, do I draw better or worse when low or high?

I think the answer might be similar for both highs and lows- it is definitely more of an effort because, whether high or low, it is more difficult to concentrate. The outcome is different though- when high I need to pull back, create a bit less, as indulging in every whim my hyper brain wants to do just pushes me higher and higher. And 'high' does not mean happy, giggly, without-a-care, dance around and sing. 'High' can also mean shakes, racing thought, paranoia, hallucinations, palpitations and chronic fear. Not good!

When low, however, though it is an enormous effort to get the pencils out, it does help me if I can do it. It lifts me.

I suppose this means I have confirmed what I had wondered- that arty stuff lifts mood. It isn't always a good thing though!

*** *** *** *** ***

I have been low lately, which I think is quite a hormonal thing at the moment. But also, I seem to have a lot of worries at once; my mother's health, my cats' welfare, helping to get mum moved up to Essex so that we can all keep an eye on her.... the actual work of finding a place for her, and getting her old place fixed up so she can sell it, well it's just starting to hit home how much hard work this is. On paper it's all a great idea and exciting. In reality it's phone calls, planning, worry. Mum's memory isn't great these days, despite that she is only 67. So most evenings I am on the phone explaining stuff that I've explained 6 times before, whether it is to do with the cats' food, or how to write a cheque.

To turn to doodling seems an unimportant, frivilous pastime under the circumstances. But I steered myself into my craft room on the grounds that it is good for me. Must try to stop the downward spiral. Blogging is good too, as it is a way of keeping in touch with people 'out there'. I have to tell you, I feel so lonely sometimes. I was up last night in tears again. The slightest thing upsets me at the moment. Like I said- hormones! I wept at finding a dead woodmouse in the garden this morning. So tiny and helpless and perfect he seemed. The world seems cruel and horrible.

*** *** *** *** ***

Father's day is coming up, so I turned my attention to that.
My Dad was a Head Chef in the Royal Navy, so I thought a Beary cook would make him smile. The background 'cupcake' paper was free in a magazine. I wrote the greeting in the same fake snow stuff that I had used on Christmas cards last year. Still had a drop left. I wanted it to look like icing. I like the way it looks on the spoon, too! I coloured the Bear and all his accessories in water colour paint. I wrote Dad's initials on the apron.

Yeah, I reckon he will really like this one!

A Beautiful Mind

It's been like a roller-coaster, these last few weeks.

First, there was my partner investing in a franchise, then meeting Julie (nerve wracking before, wonderful during!!) the trip to Lincoln, then home for Easter, then to Mum's for a few days... and for a couple of days this week I completely crashed!

It began Tuesday, while I was still at mum's; I felt myself really slipping downwards. I said I was tired, made a few excuses and took some time out up in her spare room, catching some sleep. We got home that night and I took one of my "emergency blue pills". These are trifluoperazone, for when the bi-polar zig-zag pushes me a little too far either up or down.

Wednesday night I sat up, on a diet of diazepam and chocolate muffins :)

Thursday morning I felt better, but gradually wore down through the day. So I took another catnap. Then I had an email from an old school friend, Josephine, asking to come up. I explained how I felt, and she said that I needed "a dose of silliness" and prescribed herself and her 10 year old daughter, who promptly arrived Friday morning :)

I didn't feel up to it, and wanted to defer for a few days, but focused on what nice things I could get for them to eat. I made a chicken and bacon pie and Luvbug bought banoffee pie and doughnuts. In the afternoon, with full tummies, we all went off to a garden centre and chose plants for our respective gardens.

I have no idea where this one came from. Then in an email Julie very kindly suggested that maybe it was the number of things I'd had all at once- this labrynthitis virus that I'm still fighting, a trip away from home, worrying about Fluffy, worrying about my partner, .... all sorts of things. Yes, I suppose so.

*** *** *** *** ***

Scary bits............

Photo taken from my back, upstairs window a couple of years ago... it was a great storm!

It's hard to descibe how it feels but imagine your brain telling you that you have too much stimulation around you, and so you have to go and lie down for a few hours in a quiet spot. The longer it takes to go and do that, the worse it gets, until it becomes a physical pain, like a belt tied tightly around your forehead. The inner tension slips down to your chest and feels like an empty vacuum. You start to go "zombie-fied", when even finishing a sentence is mentally exhausting and painful. Sleep, sleep, rest. Then try to distract yourself when you wake up, don't just lie there. Do something till you have to rest again. Takes a bit of willpower to get up and do that though.

This time the flunk brought with it the more disturbing, hallucinary symptoms. I saw shadowy shapes running past the window, heard what sounded like a group of people chattering behind me, and the non-auditory but "sensory" things, these are the scariest- feeling someone walking into the room, turning to say hello and no one is there. Or feeling watched. Or not being able to get out of bed because of that child-like conviction that SOMETHING is on the stairs.

I always tell myself it isn't real, it isn't true, and make myself walk past it. Or occasionally run. But what makes it difficult is that it doesn't come when I am feeling at my worst. It comes when I am calm and thinking that the ill phase has gone or is passing- so these things take me by surprise. Just as I am pootling about my day, I see or hear or sense something that isn't there, and it is always threatening, mocking or evil....... never mind. Another week and I'll be clear, I'm sure. Just have to pace myself now.

I watched A Beautiful Mind again the other week. That film always gives me courage. Look at what John Nash lives with, and look at what he's achieved. He doesn't have bi-polar, he has schizophrenia, but he copes by just letting the hallucinations be, and just ignoring them. My mind doesn't play anything like the tricks his does, but then my brain can't do anything like the maths he does either :)
But his story always gives me a bit of strength: to know you can have a normal, even successful life despite having a mind that does odd things at times. I find myself thinking, well if he can do it, so can I.

I realise that some people will see my decision to post about this as a little risky. And yes, I have lost at least one friend over this thing. But the only way to counteract people's fear of this is to say exactly what it is and what it does. If people can't cope with that, ok, I'll understand if you want to keep away. I'm not hiding it though. I'm not sure I can. So the more people understand the inner workings of it, the better.

Also, maybe someone out there has the same but can't put it into words. They can point at the screen and say to their loved ones, "Look, read this."

An odd experience

Taken in Brockenhurst, the New Forest, April this year.

I've been doing "rapid cycling".
No, this doesn't mean I'm entering the Tour De France.
It means I had a seriously low low patch 2 weeks ago, which lasted about 5 days, then straight up into a height of energy and creativity, and now I'm levelling out....

I've never known such a fast turnaround. And I had got so low it surprised me- no matter how many years of it, you always forget what it feels like down there. Then the big burst of energy and creativity...

I'm going to record here what this was like, because I shall forget! Whenever someone mentions bi-polar, the impression is that, hey, if you're going to get depression, this is the type to get, cos at least you get the "up" side. Hmmm....


OK. It's easy to imagine the low part of the roller-coaster being bad. Everyone has off-days, so everyone can imagine bad ones. This time around I sank into a place where I had to cut my own forearm with my sharpest nails, so as to feel something. ANYTHING. Anything other than deadness and fog. It all seems perfectly logical from the inside at the time. When I realised what I was doing I showed my partner- not attention seeking- I showed him so that I'd stop. Self-harmers hide their wounds. I know that. So the first thing to do was to show him. Then I bit off the offending nails(!)

My head felt like it was in a brace, being pulled tighter and tighter. I couldn't handle anything. I just wanted to scream. The best thing was when I went to bed with only a low light and pulled the covers over me. Rest your head.... rest your head.... stay for hours, quiet, safe.

So that was the low. But how could an "Up" possibly be unenjoyable?


OK. When I was in my teens I had a (insert swearword here)boyfriend who was so tight, when he drove down hills he would turn off the engine to save fuel.
Imagine this on a grander scale. You are in a roller coaster, you are in the car at the front. The train has come off the rails and you are riding through the air at top speed with everyone screaming in your ears, faster faster faster.

If you relax you might enjoy the ride, but it's scary, isn't it? NO CONTROL. That's the point. On and on. Not knowing when it will stop.

You have 36 hours straight, no sleep, tons of energy. Then you might sleep for 4, maybe 5 hours, and then you're off again. You feel like a kid who wants to go and knock on everyone's door and shout "COME ON! COME OUT TO PLAY!". Your heartbeat is racing and you are ALWAYS aware of it. You can feel it. Even when you do try to sleep, because your body aches and you feel sick and dizzy, you can't- your heartbeat feels like a butterfly in your chest, and your head is full of ideas, tumbling over and over like multi-coloured socks in a tumble-dryer. All you can do is lie awake and watch them.

I got a lot done in my spurt of energy. But I'm glad to be levelling out again. Now I feel more like me.

The p-doc recommended a "mood stabilizer" drug. I refused lithium. But she suggested carbamazepine or sodium valproate.

Look them up! The main, most common side effects are weight gain, acne and nausea. Great! What is the point of giving someone with depression something that will make them a fat, spotty muldoon? Especially as I am already overweight and partial to the occasional spottiness.

So I've ruled them out. Till next time. Already the memory of it is fading. You can remember words and actions, even intentions and thoughts. But you can't accurately recall pain. Good thing too, really.

ABC Wednesday......

L is for LATE.....

and LYMINGTON

...and LOW.....

I was away last Wednesday.
My partner & I went off to the New Forest for a few days.
Hence the late posting for "L".

So here we go.....
...some cobblestones from Lymington, one of the places we visited...
....first looking uphill...
then pointing the camera straight down:

and some LOBSTER POTS from LYMINGTON HARBOUR

The harbour was cold but busy and refreshing....

But despite LONG walks through beautiful scenery,I began to sink LOWER
and LOWER.......till on Friday I was Lower than I have been in a very long time.

Regular observers of this blog will know a little about how Bi-polar disorder affects my life.
Friday was a Low day.

In Medieval times there was an instrument of torture called The Rack.
Your ankles were fixed at one end, your wrists at the other.
Wheels were turned and your wrists and ankles were pulled in opposite directions.
You were stretched, tendons torn, sinews breaking, limb from limb.

Imagine a rack in your head.
The inner workings of your head are fixed to it.
And stretched.
All at once your mental strings are plucked, punished and pulled.

In the end I was hitting my head with my hands.
Crying.
I wanted to bang my head against the wall.
My partner stopped me.

A few Little blue pills.
A Long sleep.

It's Sunday.

I'm surfacing.......

....back to Life....but for how Long?

*****

For more info ABC Wednesday posts, go to Mrs Nesbitt's blog

*****

Falling

Sometimes you scribble down a poem, and it feels just right.
Then you lose it. Forget about it. You don't find it for years, and then, when you do, you think, "What on earth was that about?" Laugh, with embarrassment. Then throw it away.

Other times, when you come back to it, you think how it still applies, and therefore, perhaps, how little things, or the world, or you have changed.

I scribbled this one down in 1994.
I'm quite frightened to have noticed lately, that the overall sentiment is once again true.
Also angry, as I had been well for a few months, dammit........
I'm still fighting.

********

Falling

The things that brought me joy last week
today are just a chore.
I've mislaid their fascination
and am too tired to seek.
And I know that I am falling.

The love I felt not long ago
has been left out too long;
like butter in a room too warm,
there's not much left to show.
And I know that I am falling.

The things I used to dream about
are nowhere in my memory,
I cannot call for help for them;
no energy to shout.
And I know that I am falling.

I know too well what lies ahead,
I know this sepid pool;
the heaviness of my emptiness
will pin me to my bed-
Oh God, I am falling......

Back!

Old archway squashed between modern buildings, Limerick, taken Tuesday afternoon, 23/10/07.

Well we got back from Ireland yesterday, and it was all fine.

Better than fine, actually, it was lovely.

Once there, I didn't suffer from nerves or butterflies or dread. On previous visits it has been so bad that I have counted the hours till we could set off back to the airport for home. I'm amazed by the difference this time.

It wasn't plain sailing all the way. I felt so panicked at the airport. I was in tears more than once. Had to take one of my blue pills.... I didn't want to go through check-in. I tried to find ways, in my mind, of getting home again from the airport, and telling my partner to go on without me. Maybe I could call my friend, the one in Enfield, and ask if she can meet me if I can get to her by Tube. Or maybe I could take the Tube to Liverpool Street station and a train home from there. It would take 3, maybe 4 hours, no- on a Sunday, after all, it would be more. But I'd be home. I'd be safe. I could get back into my bed and curl up, coccooned.

But I kept thinking of how awful I would feel about myself afterwards, in the days to follow.

Surely I should push against this, make myself do it..... I hadn't had the strength to do so before. I've never been able to join in. I loathe get-togethers, groups....

Seagulls by Limerick Castle.

I don't know why there was such a difference this time, once I was there. I felt completely comfortable, not scared or fazed by the people or situations at all. Didn't have to think twice about anything. Just went with the flow. Is that what it's like to be "normal"?

So maybe the only answer is that I am a little better, mental-health-wise, than in previous years.

Whether this is true or not, there is still some good news in this. I did it. Horray!

Result (hmmm....)

Got my mark from my tutor for that piece I put on here recently.

I got 82%, which is a "B". You need 85 for an "A".

OK, I know that 82 is a good mark, but I was quite pleased with that piece of writing, more than anything else I've handed in, so I was a wee bit disappointed. So, I wrote and asked him what would have made it an "A".

He said that there were similies and metaphors in it that he didn't get, and so it couldn't be an "A", as "A"s are only for stuff that is publishable. Huh?

Hmmm...... sort of knocked me down a tad.

OK I have a piece of prose, 2000 words, due in by 14th September, plus another 500 words written about it.

Then two pieces of 1250 words each due in by 5th October, along with another 700 words about them.

Nothing written so far.

Nothing in my head writing itself, as sometimes happens, either.

Oh bugger!!!

It's a distance course, but there is an online "forum" for other students. Not many take part. I'm not a part-taker, myself, not much. But I've had a browse over the last few days and see a lot of them talking about having lost their "Muse".

MUSE????

The only muse in my life are mews, and they are produced by my lovely two cats, who live with my mum now, cos she has a big garden and I don't, and I live by a busy road, and anyway, if I had them here, how would I be able to get down there to see her without a cat-sitter up here?

Sorry. It's a sore point.

THIS cheered me up though. Wasn't going to put it on here - not keen on long posts. But it made me laugh.

This is from an online test, to see if you're Bi-Polar:

1. Are you on medication?
2. Do you like blue cars?
3. When considering heights, does the thought of jumping / flying come into play?
4. Do you have bad credit?
5. When contemplating seeing a psychiatrist, do you consider yourself an experiment?
6. Do you shuffle your feet?
7. Do you like blue cars?
8. Do you think "they're" crazy?
9. When you think about being 'normal', do you get depressed?
10. Do you keep noticing things that others miss e.g., birds, daisies, bricks, blue cars?

Results:

0-2 Check your pulse!
3-4 Close, but no cigar
5-8 Yep, you're bi-polar
9-10 This isn't funny, get professional help immediately