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.
Some days are execrable. Some days mild. Yesterday I had agreed to go to the cinema with a friend who has a free pass (for two). We were going to see a Bollywood movie, but then she changed her mind and we went to ‘The Boat That Rocked’. This turned out to be the most appalling stinker of a movie, despite the usual stellar cast that Richard Curtis always seems to marshal. Be warned peeps! The worst thing about it was the virulently misogynist strain that ran through the whole sorry mess of unfunny ‘comedy’, pointless ‘plot’ and general confusion of what this film was for. Truly wince-making and a blot on the reputations of all who were involved, especially the idiot Curtis.
Seeing it in the less than palatial surroundings of Wood Green’s particularly horrible Cineworld didn’t help. This is truly a shithole of a cinema, but to be seeing such crap on top of it really didn’t help my mood.
This friend is going through a lot at the moment and to be honest I agreed to go more out of pity for her than out of any real desire to see her or the movie. I know that sounds terrible but it’s the sad truth. I kind of couldn’t wait to get away.
I worried all day about an exchange R and I had had the previous evening. We have a history of bad rows. I feared that it would escalate into one of those just at a time when I feel so horribly vulnerable. At the best of times I am profoundly disturbed by angry exchanges between us. The emotional repercussions for me can last for days. Just now is not the time to be embarking on any major conflicts.
At the same time I knew I could not just let this one go. So I raised it on the phone and we were able to talk it through reasonably calmly. If we can just manage to hear the other one out properly with respect for their experience and point of view, there is no reason why things should degenerate into the bunfights of old. On this occasion he did listen. I was relieved beyond words that we were able to sort it out and went to bed feeling better.
This morning I am still OK. Have packed my rucksack ready to go off to a small Essex village on an OA retreat for the weekend. Take care dear peeps. Love, Zoe xxx