Saturday, November 29, 2008


...I did it again. No matter how many how jokes I make about being reformed and a good patient and taking my meds. Sometimes I just can't make ends meet; sometimes the thoughts and feelings in my head overwhelm me so much the only thing I can do is to hurt myself. To pick up any object which could possibly cause harm (trust me my brain can find fault in a pair of tweezers), and use it in such a manner which would turn a lot of stomachs I'm sure.

And the result is one or two or maybe more abrasions on my otherwise milky-skinned arms. Angry, red marks which sting when I look and stab when I have to tell Will, marks which I pick at and peel away the fibrin, trying to make me better. Marks which aren't alone, but have at least 100 companions.

So all I can do is to admit it was wrong, patch it up and try to avoid my gaze for a week or two. All I can do is to say 'sorry', to anyone who has the misfortune to see.

Wednesday, November 26, 2008

My mind a quagmire
of dark and deep,
A pit without bottom
a tunnel without light.
Sharp and think
come taunts of death,
Fear and loathing
quash help and faith.
The end has no beginning,
and the beginning no end.
A piece of string
from a reel of harm.
Pain delves deep
into a failing soul.
A wingless angel
cries in a noiseless voice.

- Nikita Le Sauvage, 2007

Sunday, November 23, 2008

100 things about Nikita...

1. I was born on the 15th June 1989, in Guernsey - CI
2. I was three weeks late
3. Subsequently I was pretty round
4. Subsequently my parents nicknamed me dumpling
5. I have two sisters
6. One is 15 years old and nicknamed bubble
7. One is 9 years old next week
8. I have a cat, called Mittens
9. And a dog, called Baby
10. I have lived in five different towns
11. My favourite was Doncaster
12. I have been engaged since July 8th last year
13. I live with my fiance
14. I love to sail
15. I can play three instuments
16. Including my voice
17. I am grade 7 at all of them
18. The other two are keyboard and clarinet
19. My mother is tone-deaf
20. My first poem was published in 1999
21. My second in 2000
22. My third in 2001
23. I won a poetry scholarship in 2006
24. I didn't take it
25. My first regret
26. I was personnel director in my Young Enterprise Group
27. We won the south-east competition
28. I was school captain
29. I was the first school captain
30. I was a prefect
31. I've only ever won one trophy
32. It was for services to the school
33. I passed my 11+
34. I was accepted to girls college
35. I chose mixed grammar school
36. I took 10 GCSES
37. My grades slipped by the time I got 3 A Levels
38. Six universities accepted me
39. Hull was where I ended up
40. Nine months later I quit
41. I've written over 200 poems
42. None of which I like
43. 10th December 2004 was the first time I hurt myself
44. It's been four years
45. 8th January was the first time I attempted suicide
46. I sometimes wish it worked
47. I am bipolar
48. I have borderline personality disorder
49. I've tried too many meds to count
50. Anti-psychotics are where I've settled
51. I'm a book addict
52. I've a list of every book I ever read
53. I own most of them
54. My favourite shop is Fat Face
55. I can only afford Primark
56. I've broken two toes and two fingers and numerous ribs
57. I always hated sports day
58. Because I never won
59. Save for the wheelbarrow race, once
60. I hate my boobs
61. I'm not body-confident, at all
62. I don't think I deserve compliments
63. I have only ever had one car
64. But I learnt to drive at 9
65. In a tractor
66. I worked 4 years in a garage
67. None of which I was old enough to drive
68. But I did
69. I passed my theory test with 100%
70. I scraped the practical first time also
71. I love ice cream
72. But have a mortal fear of mushrooms
73. And aubergine
74. And peas
75. I cannot cook
76. I've given up trying
77. I write a poem a day
78. I've written my journal everyday since June
79. My longest run yet
80. I love my iPod Touch
81. I have over 150 DVDs
82. Some are Will's
83. The CDs are mainly mine though
84. I prefer CDs to downloading
85. I am afraid of the dark
86. And things which crawl
87. But not babies
88. I would love a family
89. But worry I'd do it wrong
90. I wake up each morning to check Will is still with me
91. So far he's never not been there
92. This list was easier than I imagined
93. Though mainly drivel I expect *EDIT* This isn't technically about me... so in here I'll stick that I can speak 4 languages competently. Only 2 fluent.
94. You've probably not learnt anything
95. But I have
96. I prefer showers
97. But will bath in darkness only
98. There are no mirrors in my house
99. I can't look in changing room mirrors
100. But I love the reflection in Wills eyes

Friday, November 21, 2008

Blog Control

Well hello everyone. I found myself with many things to say over the past week, but somehow stopped myself - as though I was afraid of being judged. Which is odd as I don't ever recall being judged badly in the history of this blog. It's also annoying as now I don't think I've anything to say. 
I love this time of year so much... the cold bites and the wind stings but I somehow manage to feel quite secure. Cosy even. This is a drastic change to how I've previously felt... things always seemed to go wrong and everything felt bleak. I think the change has just coincided with me trying to teach myself that I can't live for everyone else... it just isn't possible. 
One thing I will miss is Guernsey... and my friends. It's been so long since I've seen them and I do often feel like I have none left. But again this time of year reminds me that I do have so many people close to me... even if their closeness is not physical.
I know what I meant to write... a '100 things about Niki' list, sort of like Carmi did. But now I'm just not sure there are that many things to say about me.

Tuesday, November 18, 2008

It's been a while...

...since I rose at 7:30am.
It's beautiful isn't it? Even now the winter is approaching and it's not as light as it might be in spring. Still the crispness of it all is beautiful, and standing at the back door watching my breath dance around daintily like the smoke of a candle extinguished.
I stood for quite a while, watching the yellow new sky turn to a fresh blue above the flats. I glanced around at the lights being pulled on and imagined all the showers and baths being turned on as waited for my own lukewarm dip (that woke me up no end).

After my bath I IM'd a few people who did not share my sentiment...their replies all centered around student grumbles and groans which I took to be the alcohol probably lurking in their system. But no worry, I was like them for a little while - without the liquor - and they'll see it one day, even if just for a moment.

You want to know my most beautiful morning? It was an autumn morning in Glasgow...I woke up on the floor of a student flat surrounded by a group of friends. I looked out of the window in the kitchen and the Glaswegian orange night lamps had been replaced by a sunrise with every colour I could ever imagine. I don't think I'll ever forget it.

My recommendation of one thing to do before the end? Camp in the open, just in a sleeping bag and survival sack. You'll get soaked and probably not sleep at all but maybe you'll be lucky and spend the evening under a show of shooting stars, and wake up to a clear sky - the beauty of which drowns out the M27 bypassing the New Forest, and even diverts attention from the deer trying desperately to get into the bins next to the cabin...

And now back down to earth...wake up Will the sleeping beauty and get down to the garage to try to pry away my car from their oily clutches.

Monday, November 17, 2008

I know

There is a smile. It's on everybodys face at some stage in their lives. It's the smile which knows pain.
You might think that only a few unfortunate people can have this smile.
That would be a mistake.
This smile will strike everyone, and ignore no-one.
It's shown to another who seems to be doing fine.
They might be fine just now, but one day the smile will pass across their lips.
It hurts.

I decided to return to an old blog format, one that consists of many different elements - basically I can't think of one big idea, so I'm throwing a few in at once. Plus my journal ran out of pages but the car's in the shop so haven't gotten around to getting a new one...

To be honest a few things have happened in the past week...Will and I are floating the idea of moving back to Guernsey. They do a few places for nurse training reguated by the UEA and if I could get one then we could move back. Naturally it's not that simple and the idea comes with the necessity of finding the money to rent on the 'rich persons haven'.

Lately I have been yearning more and more for the simple life, like I had back at school. Sure there were a lot of mental health problems, that's another point 'for' Guernsey - the healthcare is brilliant, but I still drove my little car to school and around to the beach whenever I wanted. I taught sailing and could go whenever I wanted.
Now of course there is rent and gas and electricity to find, my health rests not with the CAMHS but with the CMHT - nothing is easy anymore.
Will has a boat but it's way down in Dartmouth and we can neither up sticks whenever we want or leave it floating sadly in the harbour down there.

I guess the main deal-breaker is just a tiredness, felt by everyone who has a responsibility - maybe to a partner, or to children, or even to a job. I'm tired of being a grown up. I want to shake my head and stamp my feet. I want to protest that my chidhood was cut short. I want to scream from the rooftops that I am only 19 years old.

19 years. That's all I've had - even Will has had 22 - did I miss the classes on paying rent? Organising Dentist appointments? Paying for petrol? My sister is 15 years old, the same age as me when I first attempted suicide. That's scary, that petrifies me everyday. Since I was 15 I've done a lot...I've been to A&E in about 10 hospitals, I've gotten into Uni - and left, I've gotten pregnant - and miscarried. Why did it all have to happen so soon? Why are my arms littered with scars? Why do I take anti-psychotics every morning, not birth control? Why-oh-why are my liver function tests so bad you'd think I was a 50 year old alcoholic?
And then there are the people...why did I disappoint my Mum? Why did I hurt Dad? Why have I abandoned my baby sisters?

I know an episode is coming, I will regret writing this diatribe. But I also know that I don't understand, anything.

PS I will seek medical help in the morning.

Wednesday, November 12, 2008

How Mad Are You?

Just a quick drop-in today. I watched a programme yesterday (see the link at the bottom of the page), which made me think. I like that - I like that an essentially useless thing, can be useful.

The programme is essentially an experiment, with 5 'normal' participants and 5 'mentally ill' participants.

It challenges 3 mental health professionals - and the contestants themselves - to decide who among them has suffered or does suffer from a mental illness, and who is just plain 'normal'.

Already the professionals have spotted one man with OCD, but they wrongly assumed one woman had no mental health issues.

It makes me wonder - if you saw me in a crowd, would you know that I'm 'crazy'?

Tuesday, November 11, 2008

Ma Vie

My life may not be straightforward, and it may not be conventional
It may not please everybody, but perhaps it touches some
My life is getting used to being lived for me first
And others later.
Everyday it makes me feel guilty for claiming it back,
It tells me I need to do more.
But really, whatever I can do should be good enough.
Each day that I live in the outside world,
And not desperately in a hospital
Each day that I wake up and swallow it down
Is a triumph.
I wonder if I mean enough
Or give enough
Or help enough.
Perhaps my existence makes no mark,
Perhaps I change nothing,
Maybe - just maybe...

...I am okay.

For now

Monday, November 10, 2008

Sunday Night

I've never been one to give up on someone. No matter how much they may appear to hate me, or think what I do is wrong, I have always maintained that eventually I would win them over.
Unfortunately I have made my first exception.
My eldest sister, J, aged 15.
We haven't spoken in nearly a year, she never forgave me for leaving Guernsey with Will, she was hurt when she found out about my Dad.
Apology after apology I've given her, even gifts in my desperation.
But now I have decided to let it rest. I remember being 15 - I took no prisoners, I wouldn't take apologies from anyone.
I just didn't want to do it without writing about her. She's beautiful - taller than me already, perfect hair and teeth...a better physique and wearing make up when I've only just started. She's clever too, wants to be a lawyer and she's well on her way - you won't find her getting engaged at 18 or quitting Uni.
So here's to her, and one day being friends again

Thursday, November 06, 2008

What it's like to be bipolar

There is a particular kind of pain, elation, loneliness, and terror involved in this kind of madness. When you're high it's tremendous. The ideas and feelings are fast and frequent like shooting stars, and you follow them until you find better and brighter ones.

Shyness goes, the right words and gestures are suddenly there, the power to captivate others a felt certainty. There are interests found in uninteresting people.
Sensuality is pervasive and the desire to seduce and be seduced irresistible. Feelings of ease, intensity, power, well-being, financial omnipotence, and euphoria pervade one's marrow. But, somewhere this changes. The fast ideas are too fast, and there are far too many, overwhelming confusion replaces clarity. Memory goes. Humor and absorption on friend's faces are replaced by fear and concern.

Everything previously moving with the grain is now against....

you are irritable, angry, frightened, uncontrollable, and emerged totally in the blackest caves of the mind.

You never knew those caves were there. It will never end, for madness carves its own reality.

- Kay Redfield Jamison, MD

I don't like standing near the edge of a platform when an express train is passing through. I like to stand right back and if possible get a pillar between me and the train. I don't like to stand by the side of a ship and look down into the water. A second's action would end everything. A few drops of desperation.

- Winston Churchill (1874-1965)

Monday, November 03, 2008


Don't Robbie Williams in sight.

I was thinking last night, as Will and I talked about my latest episode, about the people who were always there for me before my betrothed.
They never knew, never saw the scars or the pills. But still they were there...and of course they did know, because I'm crap at hiding things.

Now there are three photos above my bed..a white camellia in the middle, Will and I at prom on the left, and on the right there are my girls. Four girls in beautiful dresses hanging above my bed. I like to think that they are watching over me, that as I lay in bed sleeping or watching a movie or just hiding from the rest of the world, they are there to help me still.

We don't talk that often, as life has thrown us all over the UK. We have new friends, in new homes with new lives. But when I look up through the tears of bipolar, or just of life, we are all there together - happy and full of hope for our lives outside of Guernsey.

Over the two years some of us have gotten engaged, one of us had a baby and three of us continue to battle with mental illness.

Here's to all of us meeting up again one day, getting dressed in our best and going out with hope in our there'll be a few extra boys, a gorgeous baby girl and hours of therapy sessions...still they'll be there to hold my hand, my purse and (hopefully not) my hair.