Sorry folks, I decided the last post really did constitute ‘too much information’ so I have  deleted the whole thing.

As you might have gathered I was in the throes of a hypomanic episode. Thank God it was relatively mild this time. I did and said some daft things and was over-generous with money…this is all par for the course.  But I managed not to need the ministrations of the Home Treatment Team, or hospital (even though I initially asked to be admitted). I briefly stayed at the crisis unit but found it completely useless, so left after a few days.

I was taking Depakote or Epilim religiously every time I have relapsed over the course of this year (three times in all). This leads me to conclude that these so called mood stabilisers are doing nothing of the kind. I stopped taking Depakote abruptly during this most recent manic phase. Yeah, not technically a good idea. But I have to ask if it’s a good idea to take large doses of toxic substances when they manifestly fail to do what it says on the tin?

Anyway I’m seeing a new psych on Monday afternoon. Currently I am taking a low dose of Citalopram. My mood is not too bad. I have felt quite low but it’s nothing terrible. Been sleeping an inordinate amount.

Decided, after all, to start the MA in Mental Health and Wellbeing at London Metropolitan University. It’s good to have stuff to get on with. I love the whole process of studying. However I am slightly daunted by the social science  nature of the course…one of the modules this term is Social Epidemiology. It’s unfamiliar, as previously I always studied humanities. Sometimes my mind feels like a blunt instrument indeed. The class is massive, too, about fifty of us, and we have to do group presentations, so that is an unknown quantity. I hope I’ll be able to hack it.

Going to art class this afternoon, and then visiting friend with new baby. Take care all! Lots of love, Zoe xxx

Hardly slept at all…would have helped if I’d taken my Ipod off I s’pose…

About as spaced out as it gets without actually leaving the planet…

Please leave me alone!

But comment!

Cause otherwise I’ll sulk and think y’all don’t care…

Don’t phone me and I won’t phone you…

Don’t burden me with your petty, yes I did say PETTY, problems…

I’m BUSY!

But text me. And I promise while my texting finger is still attached to my hand, I will text you back…

The written word is a lot less threatening than the spoken one…

Which is why I use this place as an outlet…

And why I’m not ‘Mad Pride’…

And why I don’t consider myself mad…

But why I will plead guilty to ‘bonkers’, ‘nuts’, or ‘fruitcake’…

Off to see my wonderful social worker, Wayne, for a coffee. Then to see my mate S for a tea. Nothing to do but hang out and worry about what to wear. It ain’t a bad life folks.

Lose that job…find yourself something useful to do…

And keep on SHARING THE LERVE… Zoe xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Hi citizens. Where do I start to update you? Most of my recent life needs to stay in a big box file marked strictly confidential (luckily) so I can pare it down for you.

Have you seen the new Dizzee Rascal video ‘Bonkers’? Sorry I’m hopelessly ungeeky so I can’t do you a link…go and look it up yourselves, you lazy muthas.

Have I raved here before about the London Grime and hip-hop scene? It’s second to NONE. Check out N-Dubz. Check out Dizzee. Check out Kano. Let me go all jingoistic on you and say that it leaves the likes of Jay Zee, Eminem and co badly in the shade? (Sorry Jayz.) Yet again we Brits come out on top. Not that I’m competitive nor nuffin.

To think if it wasn’t for my charming teenage son (all of 13) I would never have discovered these cultural delights.

Talking of Eminem, I used to have a bit of time for him, but my word, anyone given his latest, ‘Relapse’, a listen? Guy’s in a seriously bad way. Someone, please, help him, as his tiny daughter Hailie used to cry! And stop him making any more records!

I’ve been a bit high lately. Well, that always happens when things start to go a bit too well for me. There I was, deeply involved in user work in my borough and about to embark on an MA in Mental Health and Wellbeing, no less…even becoming a bit of a weekend environmentalist on the side.

This can’t be allowed to go on, you all cry. You’re on the verge of becoming acceptable, Zoe. You might even end up getting a bloody job and then where we all be? Go back to be the frankly bonkers Zoe we all know and love so well! At least we all know where we are with her.

OK then. I’ll do you a deal, fans. I’ll be as bonkers as you like, but will pass for sane at all times. Will not be expected to ingest poisons in order to fit in. Will not be required to conform to an impossible norm. Will stick with mine and  agree to differ with the inevitable haters. I got my mates. I don’t need much else, since society is kind enough to support my supposed ‘disability’.

I’m lucky lucky lucky. Been telling you all that for years now. Stop pitying me!!! I don’t need your feckin’ sympathy! I was born in the Year of the Tiger wasn’t I? They always land on their feet… I refuse to cry. I refuse to go for the sympathy vote. Duff me up, handcuff me, turn me in to the feds, but pray, no more shrinks!!!

Well I told you. I’m out to lunch again, and it’s past midnight. Love you lots folks (and spare me your effing concern too GRRR!) Zoe xxx

Hi  dearest peeps. Why so guilty? Only because I have sorely neglected my corner of the Internet despite having loyal readers and even new ones. 

Well, I know you will all forgive my absence when I tell you that life has been busy happening to me lately (to mangle John Lennon’s line) . I’ve had an absolutely great summer. Honestly I hardly know where to start.

The voluntary work I am doing for the local mental health service user network has been burdgeoning and growing, and I feel myself growing along with it. In addition to that I met a new and rather wonderful vegan friend who is a bit of an eco-activist as well as an expert on trees and plants.

I had been wanting to get involved with Sustainable Haringey for a long time, and had asked R to come along to meetings with me but he wasn’t keen. Now that I know G though I am becoming more and more involved and it’s also great to be pals with a fellow vegan (the first I think…) 

As I find myself getting busier and busier I notice I’m getting asked to do more and more things. For years I’ve sought the Holy Grail of the ‘work I was born to do’…waited for some kind of Eureka moment where I would ’just know’. Well I am having a Eureka summer. Understanding that maybe it’s not so much about the work, but more about me. Shedding the inhibitions and overcoming the self-made obstacles in the way of just jumping in and doing it.

However what’s probably very important is having a passion. I have a passion for mental health, for improving the lot of those who experience mental health problems, or, more importantly, the stigma and social difficulties that attach to such experiences. I have been there myself…been written off, dismissed, patronised, told I would never work again. I am one of the lucky ones though. I bounced back…over and over again. I always knew deep down that I wasn’t finished yet.

I persistd in sharpening my brain and my wits ready for my full-on counter-attack at anyone who ever scorned me or took pleasure in seeing me so ground down and defeated.

Yes, an element of revenge can be a healthy response in my opinion, provided it doesn’t become the main motivation, and is not obsessive or premeditated. To quote someone or other: ‘Living well is the best revenge’. There is nothing more delightful to me than seeing the sick look on the face of someone who dislikes me while they smile and congratulate me on how well I’m doing. As Bob Dylan would have it ‘You gotta lot of nerve, to say you are my friend…’

As well as a whole lot of voluntary commitments (some of which are paid, some not) I’ve applied to and been accepted on an MA course in Mental Health and Wellbeing at the London Metropolitan University. It’s a big commitment and a Whole Lotta Money but I am looking forward to it and devoutly hope it will work out, as it should dovetail really well with the work stuff.

My best female friend in the whole world is having a baby any day now. Saw her in the hospital today. She was high on painkillers ( for the complications of advanced pregnancy). I’m excited at the thought of a new small person in my family of friends. She is expecting a girl.

I have been to a solicitor and begun proceedings to try and get my son returned to me. I am not attached to whether or not he comes home, I just know that it was time to send out the message that he does have a MORE than adequate home and a highly intelligent and able mother with lots of supportive friends and a good partner around her. The rest is largely up to him in the long run.

Well peeps, I am off to Cumbria with said partner tomorrow in the car. I booked a self-catering cottage and we are taking bikes. Take care and lots of love…Zoe xxx

Hi there. I know, it’s been ages. I just seemed to need a bit of a break from blogging. Maybe you know how it is. There’s not much point in writing if the inspiration isn’t there. That would be boring for both of us.

I’ve been doing a fair bit of user consultation work, connected to a local service user organisation. On the one hand I feel quite confident in the quality of the work I am doing. On the other, I am having some difficulties with the politics (small p) surrounding this organisation, the way it was set up, its history and the way it operates.

I feel in a difficult position as a result. What it amounts to is that unlike most other London boroughs, mental health service users in Haringey do not have a dedicated service user led and run organisation to look out for their interests and to make sure that we are adequately represented in decision making about our own services. It’s bloody annoying, can I just be honest?

A friend of mine is of the opinion we have simply been stitched up by the mental health powers that be. One thing I am sure about is that the current situation is untenable, as the coordinators of the organisation are not service users and seem unsure themselves as to what the function of this organisation really is.

Well there’s other stuff. I have been defrauded on an Abbey cash machine to the tune of ‘a ton of money’ and getting the Abbey to wake up and deal with it adequately is a job in itself. I intend getting my money back (even if I have to take them to court) and then switching banks and I would advise any of you still with them to do the same. Their customer service is diabolical and I have found out that consumer surveys find them to be the worst bank in Britain.

Veggies have been growing magnificently in the garden!  Plue I have been teaching myself vegan Japanese cuisine using recipes on the internet, and frequenting a local Japanese grocers. My avocado sushi rolls are something else! The first time around I made a complete hash of it but I persisted and now am quite competent, although I got mirin confused with rice vinegar so still have a way to go with the ingredients. Have to say I have NEVER been in a Japanese restaurant in my life as I didn’t think they were all that vegan friendly…also shop-bought sushi can be pretty tasteless and disappointing, at least the veggie variety. I’ve been using brown sushi rice for extra nutritional value and I think it works well…

Cats both in fine fettle and meow out a hearty hello to you all…Lots of love, Zoe. xxx

Hi my dearest peeps. About a week ago I felt my mood lift significantly and realised I was no longer depressed. Obviously, an enormous relief.

Am attending various meetings at and on behalf of my local Service User Network. One project is setting up a research group. The first piece of work we are lookng at doing is around the concept of ‘recovery’, that over-used buzzword in the world of mental health services. What does it actually mean to service users themselves, we will be asking. We will be interviewing a cross-section of service users, analysing the data, then eventually compiling a report. We have to put in a funding bid first of course.

I think this could be potentially a very exciting and hard-hitting piece of work. First of all we have to get the funding and recruit some more member for the group. I feel a new sense of purpose and passion about getting a much better deal for users in our borough, which I have to say is reputedly one of the worst. There is a high level of need and a corresponding poverty of services.

We have lettuce, spinach beet, coriander, parsley and thyme growing in our veggie patch in the garden, all doing well  and fingers crossed there won’t be a massive slug/snail attack to come now that the weather has gone a bit crap. I have strict instructions to go out there at all hours of the day and night to murder snails in cold blood if necessary. Strawberries will come soon and then tomatoes.

The two cats are as gorgeous as ever. I had a long meeting with my son’s social worker on Monday and felt much reassured as a result. Am seeing him again on Monday morning for a new update on my son.

Oh, and I went for a ‘full works’ at the hairdresser yesterday afternoon and now feel exceedingly well-groomed as a result. Half-head of highlights and touch up of my (copper) roots, and long layers cut into my hair. Instant lift to the confidence.

Take care all and thank you so much for reading! Lots of love, Zoe.

Time for an update I’m sensing, folks. First of all, for the benefit of anyone who doesn’t already know and adore Seaneen’s blog, this afternoon a play went out on BBC Radio 4 called ‘Do’s and Don’ts for the Mentally Interesting. You should be able to find it on the ‘listen again’ facility here: (Listen again: here is a handy link)

Well I listened ‘live’, wild horses wouldn’t have stopped me.  It worked brilliantly on so many levels. I can see it DEFINITELY being used as an educational tool for mental health professionals, and for consciousness raising among the general public, helping carers to better understand what their loved ones with a mental illness are going through. Also it is a cracking drama with sparkling witty dialogue, wonderful, warm and lively characters (Seaneen and Rob mainly), a love story and the tragedy of the early death of a much-loved parent. It’s really got it all. So off you all go and listen!

For mental health service users like me, it is just such an uplifting listen. There are far too few true representations of mental illness in the media and when they do happen they often ring a little false or contrived, because basically, they are not written by, or with the input of, real sufferers.

Seaneen is a remarkable young woman and a fantastic advocate for us, the ‘mentally interesting’ community. OK , I don’t know if she would agree with that appellation, but the reality is that anyone who puts themselves ‘out there’ publicly with the bravery and honesty that she has really is an advocate whether they know it or not.

There are probably a lot of folk out there who are ‘mentally interesting’ but are more or less forced to stay ‘in the closet’ to some extent because they don’t want to end up having to take enforced premature retirement. For others of us, like me, I don’t have so much to lose, and I guess I do see it as a kind of duty to be as open as humanly possible about my condition. And I do feel I can be some kind of advocate.

I am getting more involved with a local mental health service user network. A group of us are looking at doing some research around the area of recovery: what does it mean to service users? I am getting enthused again. Getting a bit of bounce back in my step.  You can tell can’t you?

Had first session with new therapist yesterday. She’s German, I think. Lives in the Tottenham Roundway, where you wouldn’t expect to find a therapist living! Almost surreal.

Enough for now. Lots of love, Zoe xxx

The citalopram would definitely have seemed to have done something. But I know I’m not out of the woods. I’m quite nervous, anxious and jittery. I’m smoking a fair bit (and am normally a non-smoker). Yesterday I bit off a bit more than I could chew by taking a bus to Charing Cross Road to get a book that I decided I just had to have.  I know, what was I thinking! I could have ordered it but I couldn’t delay gratification!

But no harm done. I just realised that I have to nurture and protect myself until I am well on the mend. I struggle to find the words to describe the mental states that I went through over the last few weeks. Even here, where I know I would find a sympathetic and possible empathetic audience. So no wonder the ‘normies’ of the world don’t get it.

And when you can’t get it across, that contributes to the isolation. You are locked into your private hell. What saved me was being able to reach out and ask for help, even if it I couldn’t always articulate why I needed it.

Although the dread, terror and panic has largely subsided I am still left with a certain residue of continuing insecurity, loneliness, low self-esteem.

But hooray for citalopram. It seems to have done what it said on the tin, which has never been the case for me with any other antidepressant. I just wish that massive, rusty, arthritic machine the NHS could have moved a little faster for me at the time I needed it and got me on the stuff a lot sooner (when I presented at ERC on Monday 6th April). I was passed from pillar to post a few times when I was in deep shit. That isn’t really good enough and I shudder to think what could have happened if I had been more of a risk to myself.

But hey. I’m still here! And insecurity notwithstanding, I do know that there’s a whole lot I can do to help myself, while a week ago I thought I was more or less condemned to die. For now it’s enough to keep taking the next best step.

And I’m starting to catch up on my bloggie friends’ blogs too. We’ll never be alone folks, when we’ve got each other. Lots of love, Zoe.

Hi everyone. Blimey, it’s been three long weeks since I felt up to posting here. I have been over at moodgarden quite a bit in the last week however. The folks there have been very helpful and supportive.

So honeys, what happened? Well I thought things had bottomed out, then for a coupla weeks they just got worse all of a sudden. It was a scary experience. I had a headful of dread. Of guilt and shame. Panic. I stopped coping. Had to go to bed for a few days. Then had to force myself to get up again. Have been under the Crisis Team for about a week. Seen several different psychs in the last week. May be going back on Lithium alongside Depakote but not sure yet.

Have now been on Citalopram for two weeks. Maybe they’ve done the trick for me. Certainly the last three days have seen the depression lift to a great extent.

I’m not out of the woods and still feel intermittently tired, wrung-out, jittery, isolated, anxious, somewhat dissociated from the world.

But I am more sure than ever that therapy holds out some hope for working with my condition. I am pretty much convinced that some of my symptoms stem from trauma (PTSD), and this interacts with the bipolar. While the bipolar may or may not improve with a change of meds or staying on the same ones, the trauma is definitely something that can be amenable to therapeutic intervention.

And I will also say that despite having been in one of the most awful places I’ve ever visited (sheer suicidal hopelessness) I also realised that I feared such thoughts, and was able to reach out and let others pull me out of the swamp I was in. That I love life and want to stay alive AT ALL COSTS! That other people’s kind interventions made a huge difference to how I felt. That being able to share how I felt honestly and openly and just be heard and not dismissed kept me hanging in there…with gratitude and hope in my heart.

I was ‘lucky’ throughout this horrific time to be at least able to sleep at night. Sometimes it was the only respite I got. But at least I could look forward to laying down my head on the pillow at night and having only fairly sweet or neutral dreams, or just blessed oblivion, for about eight or nine solid hours. Without meds.

So, I think I’m back folks. Beginning to take the baby steps of getting my life going again. Trying to resist the temptation of biting off too much at once. Gotta give up the fags sometime soon. When the time is right.

Hope I haven’t lost all my readers! Lots of love, Zoe xxx

Hello Peeps. Just when I thought I had bottomed out, the mood proceeded to drop even lower. That’s why you haven’t heard much from me in the last few days. I’ve been stuck in a brute struggle to survive.

Utter despair. Depressive thinking which tells me that there really is no point at all in going on like this. That my whole life is a sick joke at my expense. I struggle to find the words to say just how bad this feels. But I know there’s a lot of you out there who can at least take an educated guess.

I had two serious episodes of mania in the space of a year. Both times I was hospitalised, both times major depression for months afterwards. This is really no way to be living.

But I am marshalling every scrap of strength I have to get the right help and support.  Trying to get some psychotherapy in place. Contacting my services to let them know what is going on. I’ve got an appointment with a new psychiatrist (mine has switched teams) a week tomorrow. It can’t come soon enough. I only hope I can hold out till then.

I have got to take meds for this. I think I’m under-medicated, given the severity of my illness. I may need an antidepressant and an anti-psychotic as well as the mood stabiliser. On it’s own it just doesn’t do the job. For someone who would infinitely prefer not to ingest a lot of chemicals this is a hard thing to admit. But if it’s the meds or my life, well I want my life back. Two episodes in a year is just not acceptable.

 One thing I managed to do that I was proud of today was to change my computer over from Orange ISP to Virgin. I had to mess about connecting all kinds of leads, then go through the set-up process. Required a fair bit of help from tech support. But I did it. Yay for me.

Reduced to abjectly praying for some kind of release. Maybe the time of year can provide a little tiny bit of hope or inspiration. Jesus suffered on the cross but he rose again. Whether you believe it literally happened or not, it is a powerful metaphor, and who knows that better than we bipolar peeps?

Suicide is not an option. Fight on and on and on.