Have you ever attempted to write an autobiography? I have, I was 15 years old and it was my GCSE English Language teacher who convinced us all to give it a try. I personally found it ridiculous... how could I summarise 15 years, at the age of 15? Who was going to read these supposed masterpieces?
But, of course, I wrote it all anyway... 12 A4 lined pages, front and back. It received a good review from my teacher so I put it in my coursework folder, lost the coursework folder.. and never thought anymore about it.
I suppose that these blogs that we keep are rather like an ongoing autobiographical piece... we share the goings on of our lives, the poems that we write and the songs that we sing to. If I were to print out every single page of my blog it would make a far better read than that Year 10 assignment could ever have hoped to.
For one reason or another I decided to write this post today, exposing a few things that I like to say about myself... and how truthful they actually are. So here goes.
I reached about Grade 5 in clarinet and keyboard... but faced with either of those instruments I don't honestly believe I'd know which finger to put where.
I can happily jabber away to myself in French and Spanish - and read novels in said languages, and sometimes I can understand a German person - but if you plonked me in front of one of said language speakers... my mouth would dry and my brain would forget every verb I ever learnt.
I referred to myself as bipolar long before I ever got a definitive diagnosis. I was fed up of Doctors telling me it 'might' be bipolar or that bipolar 'could develop' that I just started to research it myself.
However, when I got my diagnosis and had it confirmed... it was one of the scariest days of my life.
When I go to mental health units I always secretly think I'm better than the other patients... more educated... more domesticated... cleaner. Even though I've been known to avoid a bath for over a week when I'm in a bad way.
When I saw the 'Friends' episode where Monica gets out her Wedding Book - full of plans for her future wedding - I got inspired. I made a book full of ideas and details surrounding my plans for suicide.
I still don't understand why I came to harm myself, and I don't think I ever will.
That's about all I can think of for now, thanks for letting me get those off my chest.
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
The Crazy One
On a blogging roll at the moment, don't know if that's a good sign or a bad one. Sometimes I just can't speculate, but sometimes I know that something bad is going to happen.
This morning (01:23am) to be precise, I am in a bit of a torment.
I don't know how to write it down, that's frustrating because I can't get out what I want to.
I didn't take my meds yesterday. That's why I'm awake. If I'd taken them I'd be passed out in bed until mid morning, no doubt.
This is one of my points, those ones I'm trying to make. Badly. The meds keep me level. They keep me what could be called 'sane'.
But they keep me down. They make it hard to talk, hard to see, hard to move... hard to be. I suppose it's really being level, but to a person with bipolar being level is difficult.
Without the meds I have plans... I want to tidy. I want to write love notes to William. I want to stand on the balcony and listen to the waves. I've been awake only 14 hours... that's double what I'd normally manage.
And babies. This medicine could affect a baby developing. But I really want babies.
You're going to read this and think it's a bit eratic. If you've read up, you'll warn me that I'm becoming manic.
I'm not. I'm just the crazy one.
This morning (01:23am) to be precise, I am in a bit of a torment.
I don't know how to write it down, that's frustrating because I can't get out what I want to.
I didn't take my meds yesterday. That's why I'm awake. If I'd taken them I'd be passed out in bed until mid morning, no doubt.
This is one of my points, those ones I'm trying to make. Badly. The meds keep me level. They keep me what could be called 'sane'.
But they keep me down. They make it hard to talk, hard to see, hard to move... hard to be. I suppose it's really being level, but to a person with bipolar being level is difficult.
Without the meds I have plans... I want to tidy. I want to write love notes to William. I want to stand on the balcony and listen to the waves. I've been awake only 14 hours... that's double what I'd normally manage.
And babies. This medicine could affect a baby developing. But I really want babies.
You're going to read this and think it's a bit eratic. If you've read up, you'll warn me that I'm becoming manic.
I'm not. I'm just the crazy one.
Monday, May 25, 2009
I feel like crap
Not entirely sure why.
Could be because of intense sunburn.
Could be lack of nourishment at this late hour.
Could be both.
Time was I'd be thrilled to only have those two things bothering me, but now I'm wondering... how am I? Really?
I sleep in until 11. I don't want to, but I just can't get up before then unless I don't take my meds... does that mean I should sacrifice my meds? Well no - because then sleeping in is the least of my problems! If I stop meds then who knows what'll happen... mania, sleeplessness, depression.
I still cry when people are nasty. When people call me ugly, or a freak. Yes I know they were just teenagers and I know they don't matter to me in the grand scheme of things. But the point is... I'm still vulnerable.
Quetiapine fumarate does not place you in a big fluffy bubble. It dulls things but it doesn't make them go away - show me a pill that does that and I'll show you the end of humanity.
My point? I don't entirely have one, to be honest. It's not all bad. Gorgeous place to live, gorgeous partner, gorgeous biscuits I'm about to eat.
And this pain from sunburn? I do not like pain, unless I did it myself. It feels so very wrong after years of me maintaining that 'I hurt myself, so no-one else can'
I'll get over it.
x
Could be because of intense sunburn.
Could be lack of nourishment at this late hour.
Could be both.
Time was I'd be thrilled to only have those two things bothering me, but now I'm wondering... how am I? Really?
I sleep in until 11. I don't want to, but I just can't get up before then unless I don't take my meds... does that mean I should sacrifice my meds? Well no - because then sleeping in is the least of my problems! If I stop meds then who knows what'll happen... mania, sleeplessness, depression.
I still cry when people are nasty. When people call me ugly, or a freak. Yes I know they were just teenagers and I know they don't matter to me in the grand scheme of things. But the point is... I'm still vulnerable.
Quetiapine fumarate does not place you in a big fluffy bubble. It dulls things but it doesn't make them go away - show me a pill that does that and I'll show you the end of humanity.
My point? I don't entirely have one, to be honest. It's not all bad. Gorgeous place to live, gorgeous partner, gorgeous biscuits I'm about to eat.
And this pain from sunburn? I do not like pain, unless I did it myself. It feels so very wrong after years of me maintaining that 'I hurt myself, so no-one else can'
I'll get over it.
x
Friday, May 22, 2009
Myself
So here's the thing.
Even though I'd not call myself a 'recovered' self-harmer it has certainly been a month or two since I last partook in such an activity. For little over a year now I have been baring my arms whenever I felt warm enough, except in times of acute distress or in the prescence of yet another new wound.
In the UK I feel fine doing this, I wander around absently not really noticing myself. But every now and then I will get a comment. Perhaps from the well-to-do businessman who sees me as an inconvenience, perhaps from a deeply principled mother who sees me as a warning to her children, perhaps even from an elderly couple... who think it's just a sign of the times.
For the most part I deflect back at them... tell them that I had an accident, or got my arms stuck in a shredder - yes really, people buy that. But normally I just tell them that I went through a 'rough patch' - I neglect to mention the length of said patch.
In Guernsey I will happily wander around the beaches and cliff paths in a similar manner to my one in the UK... and people do not often ask questions. If I'm unlucky then I'll bump into an old teacher or friend of the family, who are duly horrified.
When I am with my mother or sisters - or any member of family - my arms are under wraps. I wear long sleeves morning, noon and night. I dress in the locked bathroom, I do not comment when others are hot and remove their outer clothes. I keep that part of me, secret.
They've seen them of course, on trips to visit me in a hospital or psych office. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let that happen ever again.
But here, in Alderney... I know no-one. The sea and the sand and the sun have no harsh words for me, no backwards glances. The people here are relaxed, and the holidaymakers too enthralled by the island to notice me. The rest of the people are sailors... and as a sailor myself I know that it's perfectly normal to be covered in bumps and bruises and war wounds - my legs are testimony to many a hostile overtaking at Cowes Week.
My point is, I feel free. I feel I can be myself. I always wear a bracelet on my left wrist - because that scar is too obvious an indicator of my intentions one night. Here though, I consider taking it off.
I don't want a big tan line, after all.
Even though I'd not call myself a 'recovered' self-harmer it has certainly been a month or two since I last partook in such an activity. For little over a year now I have been baring my arms whenever I felt warm enough, except in times of acute distress or in the prescence of yet another new wound.
In the UK I feel fine doing this, I wander around absently not really noticing myself. But every now and then I will get a comment. Perhaps from the well-to-do businessman who sees me as an inconvenience, perhaps from a deeply principled mother who sees me as a warning to her children, perhaps even from an elderly couple... who think it's just a sign of the times.
For the most part I deflect back at them... tell them that I had an accident, or got my arms stuck in a shredder - yes really, people buy that. But normally I just tell them that I went through a 'rough patch' - I neglect to mention the length of said patch.
In Guernsey I will happily wander around the beaches and cliff paths in a similar manner to my one in the UK... and people do not often ask questions. If I'm unlucky then I'll bump into an old teacher or friend of the family, who are duly horrified.
When I am with my mother or sisters - or any member of family - my arms are under wraps. I wear long sleeves morning, noon and night. I dress in the locked bathroom, I do not comment when others are hot and remove their outer clothes. I keep that part of me, secret.
They've seen them of course, on trips to visit me in a hospital or psych office. But that doesn't mean I'm going to let that happen ever again.
But here, in Alderney... I know no-one. The sea and the sand and the sun have no harsh words for me, no backwards glances. The people here are relaxed, and the holidaymakers too enthralled by the island to notice me. The rest of the people are sailors... and as a sailor myself I know that it's perfectly normal to be covered in bumps and bruises and war wounds - my legs are testimony to many a hostile overtaking at Cowes Week.
My point is, I feel free. I feel I can be myself. I always wear a bracelet on my left wrist - because that scar is too obvious an indicator of my intentions one night. Here though, I consider taking it off.
I don't want a big tan line, after all.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Beauty
Will is the only manager on shift for a little while so we are still staying in the hotel... today he woke me up to move to a new room. Wow. Room 28 is spectacular.
As I type I am sitting with a drink and a laptop, on a balcony over looking a white-sand beach and an azul sea, under a bronzing sun.
I can hear the waves... sometimes powerful and sometimes lapping. I can hear visitors eating in the restaurant below and tiny little Daihatsu vans driving around - I'm sure they're the national car of Alderney or something.
Later we will go to The Divers for a drink and then make the long*ish* walk up into town. We'll eat at Nellie Gray's and spend the evening learning more about each other. When we finish we'll walk back in the dark and clamber into a huge white bed.
Alderney is medicine for my soul, and for bipolar. Here I take my tablets in an instant and spend my time thinking about the beauty that I can see. Not the pain.
A week ago? This Nikita would've made me vomit, or very sad... today I don't care.
As I type I am sitting with a drink and a laptop, on a balcony over looking a white-sand beach and an azul sea, under a bronzing sun.
I can hear the waves... sometimes powerful and sometimes lapping. I can hear visitors eating in the restaurant below and tiny little Daihatsu vans driving around - I'm sure they're the national car of Alderney or something.
Later we will go to The Divers for a drink and then make the long*ish* walk up into town. We'll eat at Nellie Gray's and spend the evening learning more about each other. When we finish we'll walk back in the dark and clamber into a huge white bed.
Alderney is medicine for my soul, and for bipolar. Here I take my tablets in an instant and spend my time thinking about the beauty that I can see. Not the pain.
A week ago? This Nikita would've made me vomit, or very sad... today I don't care.
Monday, May 18, 2009
Half Way There
Hey folks
It's been a bloody long day... got the flat all secured and left little notes everywhere for aunt-in-law when she comes for the animals. Hope she didn't leave it too long as Mittens was making murderous glances at Stan when I left.
Got a lift to Liverpool John Lennon from Will's nan and passed pretty quickly through there... save for a little fainting episode, but we won't go into that.
Got to Jersey on time and proceeded to spend 5 hours in Starbucks reading and subsequently listening to MP3... someone told me they didn't have Wi-Fi and I nearly imploded right there and then.
Now I'm airside and - whadda you know - on the Internet. Lying bastards, the lot of them. Have about an hour wait before I get tentatively onto a tiny yellow pencil plane to Guernsey. Can proceed right through security there and into the lounge to wait for another fated yellow pencil flight to Alderney.
Long way to get 500 or so miles innit?
x
It's been a bloody long day... got the flat all secured and left little notes everywhere for aunt-in-law when she comes for the animals. Hope she didn't leave it too long as Mittens was making murderous glances at Stan when I left.
Got a lift to Liverpool John Lennon from Will's nan and passed pretty quickly through there... save for a little fainting episode, but we won't go into that.
Got to Jersey on time and proceeded to spend 5 hours in Starbucks reading and subsequently listening to MP3... someone told me they didn't have Wi-Fi and I nearly imploded right there and then.
Now I'm airside and - whadda you know - on the Internet. Lying bastards, the lot of them. Have about an hour wait before I get tentatively onto a tiny yellow pencil plane to Guernsey. Can proceed right through security there and into the lounge to wait for another fated yellow pencil flight to Alderney.
Long way to get 500 or so miles innit?
x
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Alderney/Aurigny/Auregnais/Aoeur'gny
First thing Monday morning I set off on my summer of working on another little Channel Island... an island with an area of 3sq miles and 2400 people. Well. 2402 with Will and I, anyway.
I'm excited, been hearing of great weather and beautiful views - I think it'll be the perfect preparation for September, a relaxed way of life and *fingers crossed* a relaxed job... making some much needed money for our Guernsey flat fund. It'll be a lot easier being that much closer to Guernsey - in terms of property hunting and stuff.
Animals are going to have to go to my aunt-in-law. We have not got on with her for some time but she will look after them all and I am *sure* that we can put our differences aside... for the sake of Baby, Mittens and Stan.
Much love. *bisous*
I'm excited, been hearing of great weather and beautiful views - I think it'll be the perfect preparation for September, a relaxed way of life and *fingers crossed* a relaxed job... making some much needed money for our Guernsey flat fund. It'll be a lot easier being that much closer to Guernsey - in terms of property hunting and stuff.
Animals are going to have to go to my aunt-in-law. We have not got on with her for some time but she will look after them all and I am *sure* that we can put our differences aside... for the sake of Baby, Mittens and Stan.
Much love. *bisous*
Thursday, May 14, 2009
A little rant
Just surfing Facebook, and feeling rather resentful.
All of these girls with their parent-approved boyfriends, with their perfect academic records, with their fun University experiences.
Why couldn't I be one of them? How do I compete with that?
All of these girls with their parent-approved boyfriends, with their perfect academic records, with their fun University experiences.
Why couldn't I be one of them? How do I compete with that?
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I'm going where?
I'm not sure what I'm doing... moving back to the one place I swore I'd never venture again?
Sure, I thought it was beautiful and the course is perfect and it's all going to be lovely... but how did it happen? What happened in my head to make me turn on my heel and head straight back to the place which nearly suffocated me to death?
I'm a bit upset at the moment as Will has moved to Alderney so I'm all alone... we fear that the RSPCA may have to have the animals as I can't take them with me and can't leave them here. I am awaiting an answer as to whether they can help. I feel mega guilty though.
Also upsetting at the moment are the nasty messages my sisters friends have been sending to us. She has decided that I abandoned everyone two years ago... even though for up to a year after I left she maintained that all was fine and we saw each other etc etc. It bothers me that she wants to be taken seriously/seen as mature... and then pulls a stunt like this.
I can't contact her as her e-mail has changed, she won't talk on the phone and has blocked me from Facebook. My letters go unanswered. I'm not going to 'tell' Mum but I'm not going to stand for this either.
This post is personal so I'd appreciate a lull in the nasty comments I've been getting. Not from any of the friends I have out there... just a few anonymous individuals. This blog is not shutting down, I'm not leaving... so I suggest you do instead.
Sure, I thought it was beautiful and the course is perfect and it's all going to be lovely... but how did it happen? What happened in my head to make me turn on my heel and head straight back to the place which nearly suffocated me to death?
I'm a bit upset at the moment as Will has moved to Alderney so I'm all alone... we fear that the RSPCA may have to have the animals as I can't take them with me and can't leave them here. I am awaiting an answer as to whether they can help. I feel mega guilty though.
Also upsetting at the moment are the nasty messages my sisters friends have been sending to us. She has decided that I abandoned everyone two years ago... even though for up to a year after I left she maintained that all was fine and we saw each other etc etc. It bothers me that she wants to be taken seriously/seen as mature... and then pulls a stunt like this.
I can't contact her as her e-mail has changed, she won't talk on the phone and has blocked me from Facebook. My letters go unanswered. I'm not going to 'tell' Mum but I'm not going to stand for this either.
This post is personal so I'd appreciate a lull in the nasty comments I've been getting. Not from any of the friends I have out there... just a few anonymous individuals. This blog is not shutting down, I'm not leaving... so I suggest you do instead.
Monday, May 11, 2009
It wouldn't be life without hurdles...
The plan is still on - but problems with ID and fully booked connecting flights mean it hasn't been easy... perhaps it won't even come to fruition, but we're still trying.
Well William is trying anyway - I am trying to be supportive, but obviously failing. I retreat into my world of stress-busters and self-deprecating humour, hoping that if I hold tight it will all be sorted without me. Who knows what I'll be like on my own for a few weeks... I plan to find somewhere to volunteer, to pass the time - and plan to go for a walk with Baby everyday, just to get out of the house. This will be a bonus for the diet... which as of yesterday was ruined by Mr Ben and Mr Jerry - those guys seriously owe me.
I'm sort of looking forward to packing all our things up - the unpacking I won't comment on though... also my plan is to get the train from Wigan-Poole and then the ferry from Poole-Guernsey. A journey which will not only cost under 50 pounds (we reset the computer and the pound sterling sign has vanished!)... but will also be brilliant! I much prefer savouring the journey so a Virgin train, a brief spell in London and a Condor ferry beats a short, stuffy Aurigny flight anyday. Plenty of time to... take my time!
Gorgeous day today, time to enjoy it.
PS... my stress busters?
1. Count your breaths... breathe slowly and count them to ten or something. Block out all other sounds!
2. Wordsearches... my book of 500 wordsearches has got me out of many a meltdown so far!
3. Read... ignore everything and get stuck in. But not to 'The Principessa' - Christine Dickason... that one is killing me.
4. Make tea... a gorgeous cup of tea, however you like it is definitely the way to go.
5. Do something! Wash up, sweep, do the laundry... anything to escape your current predicament.
6. Go for a walk/ play with the dog - or cat. But don't try to walk the cat. They do not like that.
7. Ice Cream.
xxx
Well William is trying anyway - I am trying to be supportive, but obviously failing. I retreat into my world of stress-busters and self-deprecating humour, hoping that if I hold tight it will all be sorted without me. Who knows what I'll be like on my own for a few weeks... I plan to find somewhere to volunteer, to pass the time - and plan to go for a walk with Baby everyday, just to get out of the house. This will be a bonus for the diet... which as of yesterday was ruined by Mr Ben and Mr Jerry - those guys seriously owe me.
I'm sort of looking forward to packing all our things up - the unpacking I won't comment on though... also my plan is to get the train from Wigan-Poole and then the ferry from Poole-Guernsey. A journey which will not only cost under 50 pounds (we reset the computer and the pound sterling sign has vanished!)... but will also be brilliant! I much prefer savouring the journey so a Virgin train, a brief spell in London and a Condor ferry beats a short, stuffy Aurigny flight anyday. Plenty of time to... take my time!
Gorgeous day today, time to enjoy it.
PS... my stress busters?
1. Count your breaths... breathe slowly and count them to ten or something. Block out all other sounds!
2. Wordsearches... my book of 500 wordsearches has got me out of many a meltdown so far!
3. Read... ignore everything and get stuck in. But not to 'The Principessa' - Christine Dickason... that one is killing me.
4. Make tea... a gorgeous cup of tea, however you like it is definitely the way to go.
5. Do something! Wash up, sweep, do the laundry... anything to escape your current predicament.
6. Go for a walk/ play with the dog - or cat. But don't try to walk the cat. They do not like that.
7. Ice Cream.
xxx
Thursday, May 07, 2009
Selfish!
Big congratulations to my William... he has been offered a job in Alderney. It's our first step on the long journey back to Guernsey! I have sent a CV to every recruitment place out there... now it's my time for a new job!
We're still not sure what we're going to do. Ideally he'd move to Alderney and me to my Mum's in Guernsey - then we work like mad for a few months, scrape together rent and deposit and re-convene in Guernsey at the end of August. However, we have a cat and dog in tow... perhaps we can find temporary homes for them? It's our biggest dilemma at the moment.
The title of this post... is really an apology. I waffle on about everything to do with me and don't do much commenting on your fine blogs - I'm sorry! As ever I promise I'm out there and reading, and sending all my love to you.
x
We're still not sure what we're going to do. Ideally he'd move to Alderney and me to my Mum's in Guernsey - then we work like mad for a few months, scrape together rent and deposit and re-convene in Guernsey at the end of August. However, we have a cat and dog in tow... perhaps we can find temporary homes for them? It's our biggest dilemma at the moment.
The title of this post... is really an apology. I waffle on about everything to do with me and don't do much commenting on your fine blogs - I'm sorry! As ever I promise I'm out there and reading, and sending all my love to you.
x
Sunday, May 03, 2009
Conflicting
I'm not sure exactly how my current mood is conflicting, it just felt like the right word to put there.
Currently am waiting with baited breath on the lady from nurses accomodation... really we need her to agree to help. Will rang her and laid it on thick... lack of nurses, local girl coming home etc etc. She told me to e-mail her by Friday - before she went away, which I did. She hasn't replied though and have a horrible feeling she just said that to be rid of us. Hope I'm wrong, perhaps she's just busy.
I know what we have to do otherwise, one of us will need to move over and work/search for a place to live. If only it were simple.
Think the confliction comes from the fact that I know how I'd normally be reacting to all this.
But then normal's all a bunch of shit, to this 'bipolar student mental health nurse sailor'... anyway.
Currently am waiting with baited breath on the lady from nurses accomodation... really we need her to agree to help. Will rang her and laid it on thick... lack of nurses, local girl coming home etc etc. She told me to e-mail her by Friday - before she went away, which I did. She hasn't replied though and have a horrible feeling she just said that to be rid of us. Hope I'm wrong, perhaps she's just busy.
I know what we have to do otherwise, one of us will need to move over and work/search for a place to live. If only it were simple.
Think the confliction comes from the fact that I know how I'd normally be reacting to all this.
But then normal's all a bunch of shit, to this 'bipolar student mental health nurse sailor'... anyway.
Monday, April 27, 2009
Success
I did it.
I got accepted to do my DipHE/BSc Mental Health Nursing, back home in Guernsey. The course starts on the 7th September.
It's tough... I'm telling you! It's not often I can call myself successful, in fact I've been on a downer ever since my GCSE's. So getting this is sort of a kick up the arse... a bit of a reality check.
I'm not a complete fuck-up.
Don't tell anyone though.
I got accepted to do my DipHE/BSc Mental Health Nursing, back home in Guernsey. The course starts on the 7th September.
It's tough... I'm telling you! It's not often I can call myself successful, in fact I've been on a downer ever since my GCSE's. So getting this is sort of a kick up the arse... a bit of a reality check.
I'm not a complete fuck-up.
Don't tell anyone though.
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Dawning
It just dawned on me watching Hollyoaks.
Maybe when I got out of hospital and Mum learnt of my struggles and self harm, maybe she was scared. Maybe she couldn't understand how I could do it to myself.
I don't really know of course.... but lately I am learning that things aren't always what they seem. I have no idea what my Mum thought/thinks but perhaps it wasn't how I envisaged.
I think that's what 'mental illness' is... pain. We dress it up and tone it down. But at the end of the day, it's painful and it causes pain.
Everyday pain surfaces... maybe that's not mental illness, just life.
Maybe when I got out of hospital and Mum learnt of my struggles and self harm, maybe she was scared. Maybe she couldn't understand how I could do it to myself.
I don't really know of course.... but lately I am learning that things aren't always what they seem. I have no idea what my Mum thought/thinks but perhaps it wasn't how I envisaged.
I think that's what 'mental illness' is... pain. We dress it up and tone it down. But at the end of the day, it's painful and it causes pain.
Everyday pain surfaces... maybe that's not mental illness, just life.
Monday, April 20, 2009
'Limbo'
If you follow me on Facebook or Twitter, you will have noticed my latest complaint.
I am stuck in limbo. I don't mean purgatory, but it sure as hell feels like it. I know that I want to move back to Guernsey into nurses training... but right now all I can do, is nothing. I have to stay here in this place, waiting to hear whether I am accepted or whether my fate involves the all together hotter option of another failed opportunity.
Today is a gorgeous day, but like yesterday it lacks a purpose. Everything that we do feels like nothing has been done. It is silent and still, the way it gets when a city warms up. And like the cat lazing on the wall I feel that all I can do, is sit and read.
On the bipolar side, things are much better. I still am avoiding the CMHT because I don't need them right now, they are stretched as it is and I'd much rather they helped some poor soul who is stuck in that aching void. You know the one. When you are crying so hard that everything stops again, the pain and the darkness just crushes down on your chest so that.... you just can't explain why your eyes are red, the bags underneath them weigh heavy like suitcases and your answers read like questions in a philosophy book.
I am stuck in limbo. I don't mean purgatory, but it sure as hell feels like it. I know that I want to move back to Guernsey into nurses training... but right now all I can do, is nothing. I have to stay here in this place, waiting to hear whether I am accepted or whether my fate involves the all together hotter option of another failed opportunity.
Today is a gorgeous day, but like yesterday it lacks a purpose. Everything that we do feels like nothing has been done. It is silent and still, the way it gets when a city warms up. And like the cat lazing on the wall I feel that all I can do, is sit and read.
On the bipolar side, things are much better. I still am avoiding the CMHT because I don't need them right now, they are stretched as it is and I'd much rather they helped some poor soul who is stuck in that aching void. You know the one. When you are crying so hard that everything stops again, the pain and the darkness just crushes down on your chest so that.... you just can't explain why your eyes are red, the bags underneath them weigh heavy like suitcases and your answers read like questions in a philosophy book.
Thursday, April 16, 2009
Guernsey, CI
Hello there. What a mindless way to start a post, sorry! Oh gosh now I've apologised again.
Well. I've just got back from Guernsey after going over for my interview in mental health nursing. I think it went well. I came away not thinking I could do anything more - so that has to be good, I hope!
That's not what I want to talk about though, I want to talk about the strange feeling I had in my stomach throughout the whole trip. The feeling I couldn't explain. The feeling that nearly made me cry on the Aurigny flight home. THAT feeling.
Two years ago I was in a bad place, my head was in a terrible state and so were my arms. I met Will and fell in love, in my head it seemed the time to run. So I did. No explanations to my family, no goodbyes... just a little black Fiesta filled with as much of my life as I could manage to get a hold on. For as many years as I could remember I had wanted to get away... to get started with 'life'.
Things were not meant to be that easy though, and as usually happens when one runs away - everything catches up with you. I dropped out of Uni without even noticing I'd been there, to be honest I went off the rails - big time. It's only now I have the joy of hindsight that I can see this.
Eventually though, good old life sent me back to Guernsey... back in search of something, some kind of salvation which I believe I can get in mental health care. I've been there... and perhaps I don't have job experience but I definitely know how I don't like to be treated. I know what needs to be done in mental health care.
So as we drove to my Mother's house I thought about this feeling. I looked out at that gorgeous ocean this afternoon and I saw it. I felt it. I can't understand or explain it, but I know what I was thinking.
'I'm home'.
Well. I've just got back from Guernsey after going over for my interview in mental health nursing. I think it went well. I came away not thinking I could do anything more - so that has to be good, I hope!
That's not what I want to talk about though, I want to talk about the strange feeling I had in my stomach throughout the whole trip. The feeling I couldn't explain. The feeling that nearly made me cry on the Aurigny flight home. THAT feeling.
Two years ago I was in a bad place, my head was in a terrible state and so were my arms. I met Will and fell in love, in my head it seemed the time to run. So I did. No explanations to my family, no goodbyes... just a little black Fiesta filled with as much of my life as I could manage to get a hold on. For as many years as I could remember I had wanted to get away... to get started with 'life'.
Things were not meant to be that easy though, and as usually happens when one runs away - everything catches up with you. I dropped out of Uni without even noticing I'd been there, to be honest I went off the rails - big time. It's only now I have the joy of hindsight that I can see this.
Eventually though, good old life sent me back to Guernsey... back in search of something, some kind of salvation which I believe I can get in mental health care. I've been there... and perhaps I don't have job experience but I definitely know how I don't like to be treated. I know what needs to be done in mental health care.
So as we drove to my Mother's house I thought about this feeling. I looked out at that gorgeous ocean this afternoon and I saw it. I felt it. I can't understand or explain it, but I know what I was thinking.
'I'm home'.
Sunday, April 05, 2009
Eating
I once heard it said... "Show me a woman who has a healthy attitude to food, and I'll show you a man."
Now, aside from this being entirely sexist (I know both the male and female population struggle with eating and disorders), it did make me think and take a step back for a moment.
I have never had a healthy food attitutde. I have always been a little bit overweight - and have always been painfully aware of this.
When I was young I ate too much, because it was how my mother nurtured me - and when I was full I still never said no. Which meant that as I got older I lost control of being able to tell when I was full and didn't need anymore food. My days began to revolve around food and what meal I might have or snack I might sneak when away from prying eyes. Getting my driving licence meant I had unlimited access to whatever food I liked, or was permitted by my receptionists wages.
Despite this, in my teens I did even out a bit and when I look back now - I realise that I was a perfectly healthy size. If only I listened to my friends back then, and took the time to actually look at the photos!
My mother never told me anything other than I was overweight, and needed to lose. Hence at home I was always on some diet or another. It's not until recently that she told me she thinks I am really beautiful and thought I looked perfectly proportioned when I was in 6th form.
I wish I'd known that then!
Now, of course, I am overweight - and I know that. I am trying to diet but when I diet I have a tendency to not eat altogether, or purge when I feel I've eaten too much. My attitude to food is skewed and I don't know how to get it back.
It sounds like I'm blaming my Mum/upbringing... but I'm not. I'm just interested in childhood eating habits and how they shape the people we become. I know that the medication I am on will affect me too... and so I ask, what is the right attitutde to food? And how do we get it?!
Now, aside from this being entirely sexist (I know both the male and female population struggle with eating and disorders), it did make me think and take a step back for a moment.
I have never had a healthy food attitutde. I have always been a little bit overweight - and have always been painfully aware of this.
When I was young I ate too much, because it was how my mother nurtured me - and when I was full I still never said no. Which meant that as I got older I lost control of being able to tell when I was full and didn't need anymore food. My days began to revolve around food and what meal I might have or snack I might sneak when away from prying eyes. Getting my driving licence meant I had unlimited access to whatever food I liked, or was permitted by my receptionists wages.
Despite this, in my teens I did even out a bit and when I look back now - I realise that I was a perfectly healthy size. If only I listened to my friends back then, and took the time to actually look at the photos!
My mother never told me anything other than I was overweight, and needed to lose. Hence at home I was always on some diet or another. It's not until recently that she told me she thinks I am really beautiful and thought I looked perfectly proportioned when I was in 6th form.
I wish I'd known that then!
Now, of course, I am overweight - and I know that. I am trying to diet but when I diet I have a tendency to not eat altogether, or purge when I feel I've eaten too much. My attitude to food is skewed and I don't know how to get it back.
It sounds like I'm blaming my Mum/upbringing... but I'm not. I'm just interested in childhood eating habits and how they shape the people we become. I know that the medication I am on will affect me too... and so I ask, what is the right attitutde to food? And how do we get it?!
Monday, March 30, 2009
Honesty
I'd like to thank Patricia at 'In Case You Were Wondering' for this award. I am honestly so thrilled - I've never gotten one of these before! We've not known each other for a great amount of time but I value very highly her comments on my posts - and her patience at my lack of comments back!
So here's the drill: I have to list 10 totally honest things about me, and then pass this award onto 7 other blogs that I think are brilliant and well worth a visit. Hope you enjoy it!
1. Sometimes I test people. I ask them questions to which I already know the answer - just to make sure they're concentrating. It might sound like a rotten thing to do but they mainly know what I'm doing and (I hope) I've never offended someone with this little 'game'.
2. I've only just started enjoying having a dog. We got Baby last August and since then it's been a long time filled with her mess and worst of all, her bark. A few days ago we decided to walk her further - everyday. And these past few days have been fabulous! She sleeps all the time on her new bed!
3. I will often try to convince myself that I don't want something, when really I want it more than anything. If there's something I want or something I want to do - you can be sure I'll convince myself it's stupid, and not worth doing.
4. I've never really thought of myself as a good person. I know that I'm not bad - but that doesn't automatically make me good, does it?
5. I am embarassed to have bipolar. If I am asked on a form or in person to declare any health issues I will avoid it for as long as possible. I will list anything else I can think of - relevant or not - and try to see if I can neglect to explain bipolar affective disorder. My personality disorder? No-one gets told about that!
6. I wish I'd seen my Aunty Helen one last time before she died. Her throat cancer was left far too long before she sought help, and once she found out her plight she turned everyone away. No-one was allowed to visit her, and I wish she hadn't felt that way. I need to visit Uncle Roy more often, but I'm ashamed that only he saw her last days - that he had to cope alone.
7. It's been almost a year since I last had a haircut. I am petrified of them. I can't stand sitting in that chair faced with a huge mirror. Hence my split-ends are fed with moisturising shampoo for as long as I can avoid a visit. (One is planned when I'm in Guernsey)
8. Some of my best friends are people that I have never met, and may never meet.
9. I can cook. I just tell myself that I can't. I let Will cook, only helping when he asks - and even then I get scared I'll do something wrong.
10. I've always wanted a library. With all the books I buy (5 for £2) we're well on the way - unfortunately our one bed flat doesn't have room!
So there you have it.
Here are my chosen blogs...
Rainbow Dreams (Katie) has become a firm friend and our friendship has extended beyond this blog and onto Facebook and even phone. She is full of beautiful thoughts and feelings - she doesn't claim to always be right, but she's often closer than she thinks.
Misty La Vrangue is a girl I know from when we were very little in Primary school. We lost touch in year 6 and recently found each other again through our bipolar diagnosis. She is finding her way one day at a time, it's a hard journey but her blog never fails to make me smile.
Broken Mannequin (Charli) has become a friend also - we've not known each other a long while and I know I am not alone in being an admirer of her blog and indeed her words. She is a fantastically raw poet and it's because of her that I venture to call myself a writer. Sometimes ;)
Faith In The Margins (Jules) is a lady who taught me that I don't have to decide my religion, I can admire aspects of christianity - but we both know that attending church doesn't necessarily make you a christian. Her journey with God is beautiful reading and I wish her every bit of love in her ongoing quest.
Karyne's Kronicles (Karyne) is a lady who I don't even claim to know very well - but I enjoy her blog a great deal and value her comments here. I'd love to get to know her better and hence I am loving her blog!
Awareness (Dana) - this blog is fantastic also. I never fail to learn something and as such I have no doubts about giving her this award - keep on keepin' on Dana!
Paul Chambers is one of the first bloggers I began to follow. Writing from my homeland, Guernsey, he never fails to make me think and I just love the beautiful photography that match his entrancing words.
Thanks Patricia!
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
Don't like it
Still I have not got back to commenting on your blogs... I am sorry. I read them, honest I do. But none of my words seem to fit, they wiggle around until they make no sense and all I can do is send out thoughts into cyberspace and pray that they reach you well.
I realised last night that I have slipped into the persona of someone I just don't like. I've always been a bit on edge with myself, and never exactly practised much self-worth. But last night I felt I had fallen into a game-player. A selfish girl who wants nothing more than to stay with her partner forever, but who feels the need to test him. To push him to his limits, just to make sure he knows what he's in for.
I met a new mental health worker yesterday, his name is Alex. I liked him very much, but for some reason he made me feel I should talk correctly and hence I told him little of how I am feeling. I did complain about the great Dr D though and he promises to shed some light on her seemingly child-like therapy.
You don't all know yet... but I was offered an interview back home for the MH nursing course I want to do. It's on the 15th April. I can't really say much because all it seems to be bringing is stress.
*sigh*
So there you go.
I realised last night that I have slipped into the persona of someone I just don't like. I've always been a bit on edge with myself, and never exactly practised much self-worth. But last night I felt I had fallen into a game-player. A selfish girl who wants nothing more than to stay with her partner forever, but who feels the need to test him. To push him to his limits, just to make sure he knows what he's in for.
I met a new mental health worker yesterday, his name is Alex. I liked him very much, but for some reason he made me feel I should talk correctly and hence I told him little of how I am feeling. I did complain about the great Dr D though and he promises to shed some light on her seemingly child-like therapy.
You don't all know yet... but I was offered an interview back home for the MH nursing course I want to do. It's on the 15th April. I can't really say much because all it seems to be bringing is stress.
*sigh*
So there you go.
Thursday, March 19, 2009
Why
A little poem, folks.
Why didn't you care
About me
Or her
Or her...
Us?
Your eyes didn't register
Success
Struggle
Love Pain
Your family.
You walked away
Over
And over again
We welcomed you back
Each time
Until
We gave up.
I may not be perfect
Perhaps I'm bound
For hell.
But I know
For sure
I'll see you there.
Meet you there.
Why didn't you care
About me
Or her
Or her...
Us?
Your eyes didn't register
Success
Struggle
Love Pain
Your family.
You walked away
Over
And over again
We welcomed you back
Each time
Until
We gave up.
I may not be perfect
Perhaps I'm bound
For hell.
But I know
For sure
I'll see you there.
Meet you there.
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