Wednesday, September 30, 2009

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.

Thursday, September 24, 2009

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?

Friday, September 18, 2009


So I went to my appointment, all by myself - like the good girl we all know I am.

My meds were indeed adjusted; higher dosages mean bigger smiles - that's what I always say anyway ;)

Things are still pretty good. William is working this evening as there's a concert at the leisure centre. And that's where I am right now, typing away to you all as I can hear the throbbing of the music in the hall beneath me. I would go home only that would mean being by myself - and even I'm not that good.

We are settling well in Guernsey so if there's any more Guerns out there then keep an eye out for me - hell stop me in the street if you like and we debate life or something... I'm the chubby one with long curly brown hair. Usually some sort of pink shoes - be it Converse or Vans!

Saturday, September 12, 2009

Hello there

Sorry that it's been a while. We did indeed go to Yorkshire, for all of a week. Before we decided to be defiant and daring and moved back to Guernsey. So far it's paying off - we have a 'room' to call our own, William has a job in security and I'm not feeling to bad either.

I'm still off work, but looking all the same. Still taking the meds - and feeling SO much better for it. I feel like the past - what? - 5 years, have all been a practise for this. I know that I can never predict my moods; nobody can. But I also know that I feel good. William and I have taken up a membership at the leisure centre and this week we have been to the gym, swam, jacuzzied and even played badminton (badly).

My next psych appointment is the 17th September. I guess he will tweak my meds because I am still having a big problem with panic/paranoia and finding it difficult to block out the voices in my head. I can see people talking to me but not really hear what they are saying. However I feel as though I'm in a better position because my thinking is a lot clearer and my moods more stable - hence I can see where I need to improve.

It's a journey my friends, one they call 'life'.