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Posts Tagged ‘rapid-cycling’

To Whom It May Concern

Posted in bipolar, communication, crying, Eating Disorder, emotions, high, insight, mania, manic, mental illness, suicide, The Fear, tagged , , , , , , , , , on September 14, 2011 | 39 Comments »

As I write it’s Wednesday 14th of September 2011, just after 8.30pm. My day has been unspectacular, especially by my own standards of late. I woke before 4,30am, on the sofa in the same clothes I had worn and slept in since Monday.

That paragraph sounds much like the beginning of one of those posts on depression I am so loathe to write, it’s not.

My mood remains “elevated” but it’s not the colouring-in, book writing elevation that we all like so much. This elevation can be fun, it gets me through the long days, the kids love “manic breakfasts” (bacon and pancakes- sometimes real sometimes imaginary), laundry gets washed and occasionally dried on the same day, I am (I like to think) funny, fun and engaging for my twitter audience. My energy levels are high and more than ever I miss my stupid car (it’s still in Newcastle) as there are so many places I want to go- usually to buy stuff- usually stationery. Mostly I just want to run away.

However this kind of elevation also brings with it a mix of anger, fear, rage, irritability, distractibility and anxiety that turns most days into a waking nightmare. I can’t concentrate on anything; basic conversation is beyond me and anything anyone says winds me up to a point I can’t hear them over the noise in my head. Writing this is a huge struggle and I’m not even sure what to say.

I am consumed with anger and rage at the slightest stimulus, be this political or personal. I get so overwhelmed by these feelings I end up going mental in some of its most basic forms- laughter, crying, a mixture of the two, fixating on rhyming words, taking risky walks in the dark alone, rocking back and forth, pacing or becoming completely immobile. All the while my thoughts are fast, jumbled and largely useless. I am easily confused and inclined to forget things, going out presents the ever-present danger of getting lost

We’ve been having the fine/ill debate regarding my mental health on twitter for some time now; for the most part I insist I am fine with fleeting moments where I confess I feel less than well. Many others have told me I’m not very well and haven’t been for sometime. I have had some advice to the contrary, the kind of advice that suggests I’m being somewhat self-indulgent and need to simply “stop” doing what I am doing. I can’t even comment on that advice right now except to say, maybe those who say that are right?

Every health professional I’ve encountered recently has gone to great lengths to tell me that they are “concerned” about me and that I am “very concerning”. This concern makes me feel guilty and I am going to extraordinary lengths to no longer be a “concern”. My attempts are superficial however and mainly involve lying about my mental health and telling people what they want to hear. I feel vindicated in doing this as I very quickly discovered “concern” never mutated into anything useful for me.

I don’t want to be a concern, I want to be fine.

I don’t think I am fine but I’m not entirely sure what to do with this revelation. I think  the part of me that surfaced over the last few weeks and tried to destroy me is on her way back (I still argue that starving my body kept her quiet) and I’m not entirely sure what to do (early signs are the drugs inventory and purchase of new razor blades). I am currently safe though it’s through conscious choice at the moment. I still don’t really know what happened over the last few weeks but I know I very quickly got to a point where I had very little say in my own safety. How do you keep yourself safe from part of yourself, a part of which you have little awareness until you see the cuts on your body or have to talk your way out of yet another MHA?

I don’t know where I’m going with this, I’ve just read it, it’s not one of my better pieces, (actually it’s shit) but it’s going up on the blog as I think it may be a cry for help whilst I am still able to do so.

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I Always Hated The Pantomime

Posted in bipolar, depression, diagnosis, driving, Fab Psychologist, Fantastic CPN, friends, high, hospital, insomnia, lithium, mania, manic, mental illness, NHS, psychiatrist, social worker, suicide, therapy, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on September 2, 2011 | 12 Comments »

Again so much I could write here, I’d have no idea where to start with an account of the time since I last blogged. Those of you who know me will know there is an awful lot I could write about. To sum up, in handy list format-

The stupid car is 157 miles away

I’ve been in two different hospitals in two different countries in a week

I didn’t get sectioned (three times)

I don’t think I am very well

I could recount all the gory details but to be honest I don’t remember that much of them, there are “highlights”, again in handy list format-

 Having to get all my appointments with my entire team rearranged as I had “discharged myself” from mental health services.

 Almost puking my own skeleton up during a 20 hour Parvolex infusion (a fitting punishment for my abject stupidity).

 Meeting my newest psychiatrist and being told a hot milky drink was the cure for that chronic, severe insomnia I talked about.

other hot milky drinks are available

The Fantastic CPN becoming the “ninja CPN” after she appeared, unseen, unexpectedly, unannounced and played the pivotal role in ensuring my most recent “episode” didn’t end in disaster.

9 hours or so in A&E (157 miles away) practising my dinosaur impressions, pacing, being stalked by security and getting into completely unwinnable, protracted arguments with mental health professionals.

I have been a monstrous consumer of resources of late, again a list-

      Ambulances

      Doctors

      Nurses

      Police

      Social workers

      Psychiatrists

      CPNs (both ninja and non-ninja)

      Hospital beds

So I haven’t exactly covered myself in glory recently. If I do a little CBT reframing of the past week or so I can come up with the following list-

 I’m still alive (in all honesty undecided if this is a positive but feel obliged to say it)

I didn’t get detained under the Mental Health Act or the Mental Health (care and treatment) (Scotland) Act.

I was again reminded that a lot of people care very much about me and will go to great lengths to help me. (thank you all for everything)

 The children appear well and happy (though I am aware I am raising the next generation of mental health service users).

So what’s next? In all honesty I don’t know, there are a lot of unknowns at the moment. I could make some predictions based on my knowledge to date but for fear of any of them becoming self-fulfilling prophecies I’ll resist.

I am considering re-starting Lithium therapy, this decision deserves its own post and it will get one. I had that MRI I was agonising over in my previous post, no results yet but am now also awaiting an appointment with a neurologist, these tests are mainly to rule things out, just a case (no doubt previously unheard of) of a psychiatrist being thorough. I have an appointment with the Fab Psychologist on the 13th of September, I will agonise over that nearer the time.

So yeah, I’m still here and again if rapid-cycling was an Olympic sport, I could be a real contender for the gold.

So a short post, covering a short time where an awful lot has happened, there’s a lot missing, follow me on twitter for the minute by minute account of the pantomime that is my life.

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>If It Was I’d Win Gold…………..

Posted in Uncategorized, tagged , , , , , , , on October 14, 2010 | Leave a Comment »

>I was right to suspect on Sunday that my mood was rising and it continued to rise.

Sunday night was largely sleepless yet I woke, bright eyed and bushy tailed at 5am on Monday. I was discharged from hospital early on Monday afternoon- high as a kite. By 4pm on Monday I was depressed again and wishing I had killed myself when I had the chance. I spent some time lying, motionless and crying again experiencing that horrendous pain that depression brings by 7pm I was the life and soul of the party again.

This is rapid-cycling- almost sounds like it should be fun, or at least an Olympic sport but it is neither it is in fact very distressing and unsettling.

By contrast on Tuesday I was stable, probably more stable than I’ve been in months. I saw my psychiatrist in the afternoon and was able to ask what I needed to ask, engage meaningfully with the consultation and for once I came away satisfied with the outcome (rubbish anti-depressant gone, referral to new psychologist, next psychiatrist appointment brought forward).

I came home and at some point in the afternoon started to feel something I haven’t felt since the time just before my first ever admission to hospital- “the fear”. I felt threatened and afraid, I insisted that curtains and blinds were shut I knew I couldn’t go anywhere, I didn’t even feel able to stand at my own back door for a cigarette. I knew something was amiss so phoned my fantastic CPN who dished out the stock advice for these kinds of situations- stay in, take Lorazepam, so I did.

The Lorazepam calmed me a bit but only for a while. I was getting increasingly aware of the “noise” in my head I had a number of intrusive thoughts and decided that I needed to be vigilant so decided against any more Lorazepam. I believed I was in danger from everybody, I “realised” I had been stupid all along and it was in fact the doctors who were making me ill. As the evening went on the psychosis got worse, I was convinced I could trust no-one but one lovely friend.

Yesterday morning my lovely friend took me to see my wonderful GP, who I decided I no longer trusted (and told her so). My wonderful GP patiently listened as I told her that everyone was out to get me and I felt I needed to arm myself with a knife to protect myself. Lorazepam was the answer again but by this point I’d ruled it out completely as there was no way I’d be able to protect myself if I was in a benzodiazepine fug.

The noise in my head increased throughout the day, I was having violent fantasies and believed that as well as being at risk from the medical profession at large, I was going to harm someone.

My fantastic CPN visited in the afternoon, by this time I’d decided she was “one of them” as well but she sat, patiently listening anyway. The fantastic CPN had spent a large part of the day chasing the psychiatrist who eventually told her I was to start taking the anti-psychotic they had taken me off on my admission to hospital on Friday.

So today, my head is quieter, I have a psychotic episode hangover- it’s much the same as a traditional hangover- I’m tired, the house is a mess, my body aches and I can’t believe some of the things I said yesterday.

I think I can be forgiven for feeling like I’m not getting anywhere. I first visited my wonderful GP about my mental health on the 30th November 2009, met the fantastic CPN on 12th December 2009 had my first psychotic episode and got admitted to hospital for the first time on 21st April 2010. I’m not stable, I’m nowhere near ready to be back at work; I’ve lost my driving license and still can’t manage my home and children alone.

But today is better than yesterday and I suppose I have to cling to that.

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