Tonsillitis

I have tonsillitis. Well, luckily it's on its way out now but the past few days have been more than a little uncomfortable.

Do you ever worry that you've lost the knack? I mean, I have less and less readers nowadays and less and less to say.

Do you think it's time to throw in the towel?

Still in Doncaster folks.

At a loss as to what I should write... suggestions?

We are still living in Doncaster. Crikey it must be a record - 2 weeks in the same place. ;)

All joking aside, we are enjoying it here. Few little hiccups, which can be put down to a big family living in a quite small house!

I got genuinely excited the other day at the prospect of finding a new place, getting a stable job and saving for a mortgage. I know I'm only 20 but I feel like I've done a hell of a lot of living for my years and it feels like the 'right' time to settle down.

I wrote to my Mum today. I didn't put my address but promised to write again soon. I wanted a chance to speak without receiving a biting comment in response. So I talked. Just me. For whatever reason she hasn't ever read one of my e-mails in which I try to explain bipolar - so I explained it again. Gave her some www addresses to take a peek at, if she likes. If not then at least I've tried.

There you go, that's me.

So here it is.

I got depressed. Two weeks ago I started a new med - Paroxetine (Seroxat). It's an anti-depressant. An SSRI.

Since then we have moved to South Yorkshire, and I started feeling a little brighter.

Today was my beautiful niece's 2nd birthday and we had a fab time at her party, then trick-or-treating, then eating Ben and Jerrys.

It's the little things that you have to hold on to.

I seem to be settling into a pattern of not writing titles. I just can't get on with them, they won't pop into my head anymore... similarly my Facebook and Twitter updates are suffering. Do you mind? I guess the point of a title is to give you a little clue as to what I'm going to write about - but you all know by now what I write about so I'm sure you can manage without a title. It wouldn't be funny anyway.

The tablets I am currently on seem to be doing wonders (Olanzapine 10mg & Lamotrigine 75mg) - I was worried with the weight issues surrounding the Olanzapine but it seems to be having an opposite effect on me... my appetite is diminishing by the day and I can't even finish a meal... not that this is a particularly bad thing since I ballooned on the Quetiapine of a few months ago.
Lamotrigine is not licenced to treat bipolar in the UK, but is used as an off-label mood stabiliser - despite being marketed as an anti-convulsant used in the treatment of epilepsy.

I feel a lot more stable and my sleep has evened out too - getting about 8/9 hours a night which is a pretty good level for me as sleep is an integral part of my mood. When I panic it is for a few minutes at most and when I'm depressed it passes relatively quickly too. As for the self-harm... that happens occasionally still but to a much lesser degree than a few years ago.

This has turned into one of those sickening 'I'm fine' posts. I don't want to sound like I'm gloating to others of you suffering... I just think that this blog works best when I'm being honest and open with you all. It's the only hope I have of really helping someone.

I've just noticed that I seem to be acquiring followers... so this is a big welcome to all of you. I hope you find something interesting to read here, and decide to come back some day.

'Things' are still undecided. We may be moving into a winter let with a friend *fingers crossed* and then into a bigger place when money allows. This is the ideal plan of course; I fully intend for life to intervene and mess things up at least a little bit before it all comes through for us.

Not a lot to say, just felt the need/urge to get something out there.

That was it.

Composed sitting outside the Guernsey Information Centre

So yesterday was a bit of a nightmare; lots of panic and things to sort out and worrying to be done.

Today is slightly better... all I have to contend with is the treacle-like substance which feels like it's working it's way down from my brain into the rest of my body. I have the speed of a 90-yr old woman. Is this better than racing thoughts and panic? I just don't know. I appreciate that I can't have everything, I can't ultimately function (brain-wise) as well as a 'normal' person - here I use the word normal in reference to people without a mental illness; but at the same time there's nothing special about me in particular. The meds will help, talking will help, the psych will help... but it's down to me to tie that all together into one mentally-healthy little bundle.

I do sometimes wonder whether I will be classified someday as mentally healthy. Without mental illness. Can that happen? I've been told that meds will be necessary for the rest of my life, I've been told that unless I take them I will end up in and out of institutions. I certainly won't be a nurse. So if I do feel good - on the meds - does that mean I'm no longer suffering with a mental illness? As far as I can see it, the answer is no - because to acheive that level of functionality I have to swallow the pills.

It bothers me often that when I'm down or panicked I seem to say 'you don't understand' to William often. I seem to shut myself into my little bubble where I am completely alone and no-one has ever felt as bad as I. This is ridiculous of course - perhaps each bipolar experience is different, but ultimately we're all going through the same here.

Then there's the question of when you turn from a 'normal' person into one with a mental problem... is it when you attempt suicide? When you're put onto meds? What's to say the doctors can't get it wrong and actually we're all as fucked up as one another, but to varying degrees. I've often asked a doctor if it's possible that I imagined all of this bipolar lark, and made myself suffer from it... he seems to think this highly unlikely. He seemed awfully quick to tell me that I am indeed suffering from a 'severe mental disorder'...

I guess I've just got a lot on my mind at the moment, and I like to capture these rare moments of lucidity so that I might look back one day and think that perhaps it wasn't all that bad - or is it?