Am I still ill?

This blog is moving but no need to cry...

2008-07-23T10:47:00.001-07:00

Just go to my shiny new blog at Wordpress, click on this link!

Making bloggie friends.

2008-07-21T03:44:00.000-07:00

Hi peeps. It is always nice when I get...out of the blue...an unexpected comment, and then take a little virtual trip over to their corner of Blogland and have a nose around. It has only dawned on me relatively recently that the best way to get your blog read is, first to link to other people as much as poss, both in the text and in the blogroll (frankly I still don't quite understand how they manage to link back to you but they do), second to read other people's blogs and comment, comment, comment.

You can lurk as much and as admiringly as you like around other people's blogs but you will only count as a faceless 'stat' unless you establish a presence there by commenting, if possible, on a regular basis. It helps if the blogs you go to are based around the same 'niche' or area of interest as your own, because in this way you become a part of an online community; become known to the other bloggers and regular commenters within it and get a feel for who among them particularly interests you.

As I've always said I am still very much a novice at the art of blogging. I am quite in awe of the many, brilliant young women bloggers there are... Dumped by a Hallucination and her many cohorts for instance but they have essentially grown up in a different world to the one I did. But I am loving the learning process, I have to say, and if I still have few comments, the kind Zania has helped me to understand that it is not necessarily a direct reflection on my general rubbishness.

It is true that it is indeed difficult to know what to say to someone who is going through extreme mental distress: that is one factor that might influence a lack of comments on depression blogs in general. But in my case there are other factors at work as well. I do need to be more blog-sociable, cross-reference more, link more, comment more, and as for the world of tagging and key words, that is still a complete mystery to me, but I'm confident I will get there in the end!

But the essential thing to remember in all this is that I love blogging. I blog because I thoroughly enjoy it, because I think the Internet in general and blogging in particular is one of the very best things about living in these times, and we might as well enjoy it. I don't blog entirely in the hope of having an appreciative audience, although naturally, that would greatly add to the satisfaction. I blog for the sheer joy of blogging and because now I've started, I really, really don't want to stop.

Take care all!

Still out for the count

2008-07-17T12:55:00.000-07:00

I've been ill with the flu and more or less out of action all week, any plans scuppered. Am hoping to get to Bonkersfest on Saturday, at Camberwell Green, South London, though. Anyway I've been interwebbing away today, hardly commenting or writing anything, just reading and imbibing others' wisdom. Been at SF Jane's for the last couple of hours, she is really something else. I am impressed by her to the point of paralysis. She is so alive, so intelligent and articulate. And the way she delivers the videos as well as the writing. And her story. OK, I'm just gushing now.

It may be partly the depression but I don't have a lot of self-confidence or esteem right now. I don't rate my abilities highly. I feel a little bit brain dead. Reading a lot of other people's blogs is good but there comes a point where I need to start doing something myself. Finding a way to frame my own thoughts.

I am still gutted that I had to go back on meds because I had a recurrence of mania. I suppose I felt that I would have to stay on them forever and that meant giving up hope of recovering by other means.

You know what? I don't know any of this. I don't know what the future holds. I feel too confused, ill and fog-brained right now to come to any clear conclusions. For me God or a Higher Power seems to be something I need in my life to have any sense of security, peace or equanimity. Chaos and mental torment have ravaged me of late. I still don't have my feet on solid ground.

Take care though...

Happier...but full of cold.

2008-07-14T05:23:00.000-07:00

Hi peeps. The OA Convention was an absolute blast. I enjoyed every minute. We were staying in the Birmingham Hilton, near the NEC, and there was a beautiful pool, sauna, steam room and gym which I took advantage of. A very uplifting gathering of the OA brethren, with lots of great meetings and speakers, telling us their stories and sharing their 'experience, strength and hope'. There was even a disco and karaoke on the Saturday, and would you believe this, I got up and danced! It's ages since I hit a dance floor and I remembered how much I enjoy it, even though most of the music was pretty cheesy.

The company of my friends was most enjoyable, and I managed to take a few quiet walks around the lake and do a bit of communing with nature too.

Was that ever what I needed!

However the air con was pretty fierce in the meeting rooms and I managed to catch a bug, my throat is sore, I'm all croaky, nose streaming and had to cry off work today. Knackered too.

But just after I had breakfast this morning my lovely son called. First time he has rung for ages. We had a nice chat. So that cheered me up hugely. And if I had gone to work as normal I would have missed the call. Ah well.

Lots of love, Zoe.

Hello sadness my old friend...

2008-07-10T08:08:00.000-07:00

Actually I feel a little more human today. Managed to get myself to work (thank God for work). Found that Seaneen had linked to my blog, so was happy about that. I do most of my blog reading and writing when I'm here. Anyone who hasn't already visited Pole to Polar I would recommend it as absolutely unmissable for anyone of a mentally interesting persuasion. It's always my first port of call when I've been away from the Madosphere for a few days.

Tomorrow I am going to Birmingham, to the Overeaters Anonymous Convention which is held in the Hilton Hotel. Driving up there with two friends from my local group. I was dreading it earlier in the week and wondering if I should give it a miss. So depressed and socially phobic it could be a real ordeal. But now I feel a bit better and I am far too mean to miss out: I've booked and paid, I won't get any of the money back if I don't go. Damn it, if the worst comes to the worst I will simply hole myself up in my room with a good book for the duration.

Have just finished 'The Reluctant Fundamentalist' by Mohsin Hamid, and started 'This Book Could Save Your Life' by A.M. Homes. Reading is one thing that is, mercifully, working for me at the moment. I need to feel the same way about housework now, and have a load of my son's old toys and games to unload onto a charity shop. At the moment they are sitting in the spare room and causing me distress every time I walk past to the airing cupboard.

Going to Dual Recovery Anonymous tonight. That usually does me a power of good. Twelve-step fellowships for people with mental health problems: there are plenty of arguments for and against. But the most useful thing about the meetings is simply being able to share openly and honestly without the need to hold back or feel in danger of being stigmatised or marginalised. In other words, it's peer support. We don't tend to bang on about the virtues of 'the Program' or working the Twelve Steps. Most of us are pretty much in a perpetual survival mode.

Thinking about going back to Manic Depression Fellowship Support Group meetings after a few years staying away. It would not surprise me if the name has changed since I was last involved.

I know this post is dull and lacklustre. It's how I feel. But I have to blog while I have the strength in my fingertips, as most of the time I don't really want to go near a computer right now. Love, Zoe.

Depression, anger and general fall-out.

2008-07-07T08:36:00.000-07:00

At work. Had a mixed weekend with some very difficult moments. Richard came over and I found myself struggling with big-time anger, resentment, hostility and so on. He did stay, for two nights in the end, and we watched the INCREDIBLE Men's Final at Wimbledon. We both calmed down. But I still feel fairly wrung out and exhausted from it all.

It's pissing down with rain today, which I usually find quite therapeutic. Being at work has helped me to feel more human, but I am still really wrestling with a sense of being sub-human, worthless, defective and so on. I also feel like an outsider everywhere I go. When I am well and reasonably positive I don't particularly aspire to having all the conventional trappings. (Marriage, kids, career). When I am like this I haven't the confidence to accept my difference. I am just full of the most painful envy towards others (even close friends) for what I perceive I lack.

It's horribly painful. I'm back at home now and have to deal with that too. But I'll get there. I've been reading Sally Clay's articles on her website (link on my blogroll) and drawing a lot of strength from that. There's a woman who's really and truly been there! More soon...Love, Zoe.

More info on the Unit.

2008-07-03T07:29:00.000-07:00

We are fortunate in my particular London borough to have a crisis unit. It consists of a large house (with a beautiful, large garden), big enough to take a maximum of eight clients at a time. All clients have their own bedrooms and share all other communal spaces: there's a comfy, homely TV lounge, a kitchen where we eat together and can make drinks or snacks anytime, an art-room/conservatory and a verandah where the smokers are allowed to indulge.

Lunch and dinner is provided by a cook, special diets (such as my veganism) are catered for and the food is very high quality and delicious.

All clients are assigned a named worker, but even when this person is not available, they can speak with someone else privately.

Unless there is a particular issue of risk clients are free to come and go as they please. In case there is a risk, it is agreed with such clients at the outset that they will leave the Unit only as agreed.

The service is designed for people with mental health problems either in need of respite or going through a crisis which nevertheless is not severe enough to require treatment at the hospital.

There is a weekly yoga class, and the chance to enjoy a massage. There are also relaxation sessions, staff talk you through 'grounding exercises', there is a community meeting once a week, and 'coffee mornings' to socialise. There is also an art and craft session, access to the internet and facilities to do your own laundry.

Most important of all one is treated throughout as if one is important. The food, the homely comforts and the harmony of the surroundings communicate a vital non-verbal message to that effect. The crisis unit is easily, in my opinion, the best mental health service in my borough. Another time I will tell you more about the hospital and what a way we have to go in terms of acute mental health care.

Last few days at Unit

2008-07-02T02:10:00.000-07:00

Hi dear peeps. Note to self: get a new computer and maybe a new ISP while I'm at it. My ancient 'puter is so slow to connect, slow to everything, and often disconnects itself without a by your leave. Further note to self: try not to think about the money I gave away to a ne'er do well while I was manic which could easily have bought me a beautiful new 'puter.

Am counting down my last few days in the Crisis Unit. Since I've been here I've struck up some nice friendships with a couple of other bipolar peeps, which has been good. Decided to start going again to the Manic Depression Fellowship (maybe it's called something else now). This latest episode of illness has humbled me. I was too arrogant and tended to think I knew it all. I've had to start over, knowing that there is always more to learn and that other sufferers are often the best teachers. It is also always a huge relief to remember that I'm not the only one dealing with this stuff.

The food here's been excellent, and just a little too plentiful perhaps. The rooms are a bit hot and airless, but there are fans. You can talk to staff when you need to pretty much. I have my review of stay tomorrow which my care coordinator will be coming to and will probably have an overnight stay at home tonight.

Most of the stay I have continued to struggle with depression, but I am definitely calmer and less agitated than before. Thank God for this place. It is everything a crisis service should be, the only drawback is that the maximum stay is two weeks.

Going to yoga class this morning. Take care all. Love, Zoe

The fog is lifting.

2008-06-25T09:20:00.000-07:00

Last two days have seen a vast improvement in my state of mind. I am getting back in touch with possibilities, with hope, with the idea of a future. The self-recriminations have all but gone from my head. That stale, repetitious drone of self-loathing has subsided into silence. I am already picturing a new life, making fresh footsteps into the virgin snow of the future. Shedding the weight of this inevitable and maybe unavoidable depression.

I have some useful new directions for the route, that are, if you like, a gift of this breakdown. I know I need to prioritise relationships and friendships. They are the hardest thing for me, and yet the most important. I cannot continue to avoid dealing with my intimacy issues.

Before I felt horribly trapped. Physically free but mentally and emotionally in a stifling, suffocating dungeon. I felt that my relationship with R is hellish but that I will never be able to make another, so I am trapped in hell. Now the fear is gone. I know once again that I have choices.

Take care all. Lots of love, Zoe.

Should I wipe this blog?

2008-06-24T03:29:00.000-07:00

That's what I was thinking yesterday. The idea had appeal then...I was very depressed and tired all day...but I slept well last night and am rethinking now. What appeals is the idea of making a completely fresh start. But perhaps what I also wanted to do is symbolically expunge the last three months, when everything I had so carefully and effortfully built up seemed to come crashing down.

Removing the blog cannot remove this chunk of my life and the unwelcome realities that it has brought to bear on me.

However, it's no longer appropriate to call this the blog of my withdrawal, as I have had to return to taking psych meds. It is the end of an experiment, an episode of my life from which I learned a lot and which was tremendously hopeful and exciting. I guess with all the benefits of hindsight I had too much invested in an idea. From the loneliness I feel in this depression I need to invest more in close relationships and less in ideas.

It's undeniably a blow to my pride not to mention my self-esteem. It's hard to distinguish the feelings of loss and mourning for my 'failure' from the biological imperative of depression following mania, but I know they are there.

Acceptance is calling me now. Calling me on because I know that there is a future for me and a life. I do not expend much energy contemplating suicide: I have been through this routine so many times before. I have been worse than this, a lot worse, and much more suicidal, but I demonstrated to myself that I could absolutely come back from that place relatively intact and live a good life. All the better for having been to hell, because there is that sense of benediction you get in a resurrection of sorts.

I have not really begun to sum up this experiment and what I have learned from it. I can't do it justice right now. I am grateful for the record I have kept of it here, and as thoughts and reflections on it occur to me I can write them down.

There is no guarantee that I won't have a relapse on meds, any more than there was off meds. I have had breakdowns on them, off them, and in the past they were often precipitated by stressful events. However I have been burned by this experience. For the time being I am on meds. I want to get into some therapy that is a good fit for what I need now, and I will continue to review, monitor and explore my feelings about being on meds as well as how the meds seem to make me feel.

Non. Je ne regrette rien! Zoe.

A prolonged whine.

2008-06-20T03:08:00.000-07:00

Well I will try not to just give vent to one of those, but can't promise anything. I'm not Ms Stoical, stiff upper lip. When it hurts I cry and prefer to have someone there to hear me!

This week, I have to say, the depression got worse. It's become angry and agitated. My thoughts are my enemy. Even in my sleep there is little peace, because the poison sneaks into my dreams. I couldn't go to work yesterday. I have redoubled my efforts to get into the crisis unit, and it seems the GP has finally sent the risk assessment over, I'm hoping I will hear from them soon, and that they will call me in for an assessment.

However. I have been eating sensibly, healthily and moderately, and enjoying my food. I sleep well. I have been reading Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis, which is a memoir in cartoon form. I listen to Radio 4 and get quite absorbed by that sometimes. I even watched a documentary on TV about the Orthodox Jewish community in Stamford Hill, North London. In other words I do get little windows in between the self-recrimination and harsh judgment of my own thoughts.

I went to my Dual Recovery meeting yesterday which was really good. We went for a coffee afterwards. It's the social contact that I need which at the same time feels safe, because everyone there has experienced mental illness. And I had a chance to share about how I'm feeling in the meeting. Openly and honestly and not having to hold stuff back.

Later today I'm meeting two friends at the cafe. Apart from that there's nothing that urgently needs doing. Good. Take care all. Love, Zoe.

webring

2008-06-16T11:59:00.000-07:00

This site is a member of WebRing.

To browse visit
Here.

A dreaded sunny day...

2008-06-16T08:31:00.000-07:00

...So let's go where we're happy and I'll meet you at the cemetery gates...

Well, the work day is nearly done, I've spent most of it tying myself in painful mental knots but at least I'm still here.

Spent quite a lot of time yesterday scanning various people's handy tips and hints for getting more comments on your blog. Also, reading other people's more successful blogs than mine. When I can get over the painful feeling of envy and inferiority that that engenders at the moment (because I am depressed and basically constantly looking for reasons to feel worse) I begin to understand ways that I can tweak what I'm doing here to make it more reader-friendly and more comment-friendly.

One thing I plead guilty to is not always having answered comments. Apologies to anyone I did that to. I just had not really mastered this aspect of netiquette. Secondly I need to make a point of visiting other blogs, finding some favourites, and commenting. When I comment it's best to have something pertinent to add.

I also need to add more links to my blogroll, and get into the habit of using links in my posts. Asking open questions and inviting comments explicitly is also a good idea. Up till now I've been using this blog mainly as a personal diary, with the aim of monitoring myself, but actually I really value the interactive side of things and want to get more involved in the online communities. As mental patient calls it 'the madosphere'. Hey I did my first link! Hope I got the url right. I'm still a novice at this game! No, stop the press, the correct link is mentalpatient.org.uk. I think!

I'll get there. Love, Zoe

Lonely, sad, needy.

2008-06-15T09:01:00.000-07:00

Another sad, Sunday afternoon. R has gone which is probably a blessing for both of us, since I am convinced I am annoying hell out of anyone I'm with and at least I can be miserable on my own with no one to account to for it.

The tendency to compare myself and my lot constantly with others is still there, playng havoc with my head. This week at least I am less inclined to blame R and project my stuff on to him, and instead am directing my ire at myself.

The self-obsession does not make me exactly riveting company no doubt, and the amount of comments on my blogs has dwindled from few to nil accordingly which feeds right into my sense of loneliness.

Overwhelmed by losses. Exhausted, and after a night's sleep wake up more exhausted still. It's almost two calendar months since I became ill. I guess I've just got to give it time.

Some 'me' time...

2008-06-14T07:11:00.000-07:00

...Pottering, baking bread, doing chores. Enjoying the house and some peace and quiet.

Only connect...

2008-06-13T13:22:00.001-07:00

Another better day today. Although I awoke feeling like crap I went to the AGM of a charity I am a member of and have done voluntary work for, called MATCH (Mothers Apart from their Children). It was a great tonic, it always is (I've been to the last two). It was down by Westminster Bridge, in the heart of Touristland. It did me a power of good seeing old friends and meeting new ones, and hearing the talk by a wonderful lady called Sarah Hart (www.sarahhart.co.uk) about letting go of guilt, caring for ourselves, doing our grieving and keeping the love (for our children) alive, and so on. She was a real inspiration.

Maybe I am getting better. If so, that is short for a depressive episode. I'm probably not out of the woods just yet, anyway we'll see. My referral to the crisis house is being processed but maybe by the time they call me for an assessment I might not need it any more. The panic and anxiety, the intense neediness and loneliness is subsiding. I'm focusing better. I'm taking pleasure in reading, eating and talking. I'm laughing more. It's all good.

People at the AGM who know me all commented on how well I looked, so I guess my year of living dangerously healthily has paid off. All those supplements I'm still shoving down my neck each morning.

Back to the gym this week. No more excuses! Apart from anything else it's money down the drain if I don't go.

Lots of love. Zoe.

Whither my self-esteem?

2008-06-12T07:31:00.000-07:00

Shattered and in bits. That's what a manic breakdown does to you. You have to start over. It all takes time, and the depression that follows mania isn't pretty. I've known worse. I've been suicidal, making plans. This time I don't even go there. I know this will pass. All the same, it is hideous.

The worst thing for me is the empty feeling of absolute neediness and dependence. I have nothing inside myself, no resources to buoy myself up. It is a horrible blow to my hard-won pride and self-respect to feel like this again.

HOWEVER. I went to work today. I've lasted the whole day, unlike the other day when I went home in the afternoon. I've completed a few routine, fairly simple tasks and been busy most of the day. Yesterday, likewise, I went to Learn Direct at the library and did two and a half hours worth of my course on Presentations. That was also an improvement on what I managed last time. I guess my concentration is improving, despite myself.

And I'm going to my Dual Recovery Anonymous group this evening. I missed it last week, couldn't face the trip across London. This week, despite myself, despite the pain, I am stronger.

I remember feeling OK and more than OK. I remember I had some rapid cycling mood swings but an underlying sense of well-being. I remember a sense of hope and excitement about this new phase of my life. I remember the delight I felt at being able to take my health into my own hands.

I can get all of that back. I repeat. I CAN GET ALL OF THAT BACK. Maybe I will have to take the blasted meds as well. But all those great things I was doing for myself are still just as important.

And I've got my CBT sessions to begin working on the relationship issues, the difficulties with intimacy. I've identified that as a priority area, if not THE priority area.

Love, Zoe.

Struggling with envy and odious comparisons.

2008-06-11T11:23:00.000-07:00

My friend has a new man. She has also lost a shedload of weight. She has tons of close friends. She is going to try for a baby. It's all quite difficult and painful for me, in the sorry state I'm in. She seems to have all that I feel I lack. She even gets along well with her mother and speaks to her on the phone most days.

She also has a serious mood disorder (unipolar depression) and is a recovering alcoholic. She has well and truly been through the mill over the last four years, and certainly deserves a break. But I can't really find it in my heart to be happy for her at the moment. I feel too sad for myself, as if her happiness somehow takes away from mine. Ridiculous I know.

This is a confession. I'm not proud of it. I have talked to her about it. She was understanding. She seems a far more accepting, tolerant person than I am. But there I go again. Feeling 'less than', perceiving her as 'more than'.

This too will pass. At least I bloody hope so. It's horrible to feel like this. Zoe.

Sad and serious post.

2008-06-11T02:09:00.001-07:00

I am alive. And while there's life there's hope. For God's sake, I've got my physical health and strength. I will survive this. In time I will get up from this corpse of my shattered self-esteem like Plath's Lady Lazarus and walk on. I'm beginning to remember that others survive far worse challenges. This, at least, is all in my mind. No-one died! I wasn't tortured or raped (thank you BBC World Service) and I haven't just survived a car crash in which both my sons died.

I look back at my life before this breakdown with longing. I have lost the innocence of my belief that I could cure this thing with a lot of hard work and just wanting it badly enough. It just doesn't work that way. My friends at Moodgarden don't want this disorder any more than I do. They have probably done their share of denial. After all, that is a part of the grieving process.

Even the lack of understanding and dismissive attitude of relatives is not uncommon. That is denial too. They don't want to take on board that one so near and dear can be a prey to this illness. It is too threatening to all they think they know. They probably have no idea how hurtful it can be to the person with the illness, who is then burdened further by the assumption that the illness is basically their moral weakness, almost a choice.

I have not been blessed with the backing and support of a strong and united family. And in my relationship I have tended to repeat that pattern, choosing someone who is only ever supportive up to a point and who, when the chips are down, I often feel abandoned by. That just means that I need to find and forge strong bonds with my own family of friends. That is not easy for me. My comfort zone is to be alone...until it becomes painful and distressing.

But it is OK to be where I'm at. Even if that's pretty much rock bottom right now. The dance of life is progress, and it really doesn't matter where you start from, the point is to be on the move, growing, developing, moving nearer the light, reaching out more and more to others, breaking down fear.

This is all quite sad and serious. Heck, I'm depressed. But I will rise again. Watch me!

Depression.

2008-06-07T01:56:00.000-07:00

It's two and a half years since I last had serious depression. It's a hideous condition. Depression that follows mania is even worse than the usual sort in my experience, because you have to deal with all the fall-out from what you did and said when you were manic. The embarrassment and shame alone could kill you.

I also have to accept that I cannot even carry on with the original raison d'etre of this blog, which was monitoring my life in withdrawal from and free of meds. I am now back on 1000mg Sodium Valproate, an anti-convulsant mood stabilizer.

Not sure whether this means I will have to change the blurb at the beginning of the blog. I think I will have to update it in some way. Otherwise people may come here and then feel short-changed when they find out I am not the dazzling success story that they were looking to read about.

I will have to find some other niche, or just create my own, Zoe-shaped niche, I suppose.

I'm really glad that I did write this blog, though. It's a very useful record and reminder of what life was like off meds. It was by no means all roses. The rapid cycling, milder moodswings were quite disruptive and unsettling. Though they didn't stop me functioning, they made things difficult. I think the Sodium Valproate does dampen those down. It dampens me down overall. This is a trade-off. It's always a trade-off...the side effects for more stability. I do need more stability than I had, even before this episode.

I still have few readers, but this is still early days. Blogging is not a skill that you just learn overnight. How to build an active blog, with comments and discussion, is a whole other thing than just keeping a diary, which has been kind of my mindset up till now. Maybe it's as well. By the time I do develop a readership, there will be an interesting (hopefully!) archive to look back at. On Wordpress, they do that thing 'Posts that I want you to read'. If/when I make it over to Wordpress that would be a useful tool, and encourage me to make more of a conscious effort over some entries.

Depression is awful, excoriating, soul-killing. But I'm already starting to look forward. Optimism and hope will return. I am good at that. Maybe I even have a talent for it, but it's one I've had to use to the fullest, in this life. Even depression, it doesn't actually kill your soul. It just feels like it does. It can't hurt you. Maybe it even has a weird kind of function, one which eludes most of us. It's part of the rich tapestry.

Take care all. More very soon. I'm blogging a lot just now, also over at Moodgarden. People there are great at times like this, so supportive, and it feels safe and protected. Love, Zoe.

Oh dear.

2008-06-06T02:47:00.000-07:00

Depression. It's been a long time since I renewed my acquaintance with this old enemy. Where were you all that time? You peeped in the window and a few times chased me around my living room but were usually gone within a few hours. This is the real thing. The real deal, when you know what you are in for when you go to bed. You know you will awake with dread in your heart at the thought of the day ahead. Sleep is the only release, and it is almost too comforting. The contrast with reality is all the more stark and horrible.

Self-confidence is a distant dream. I feel permanently guilty and worthless. I am overwhelmingly needy and dependent but I spend most of the time alone because I can't face social interaction.

I will have to, when this is over, start over. Find new hope and life. I've always been so good at making fresh starts. Just as well, because how many have I already had to make?

I'm just glad I don't have to do anything and that no-one is depending on me. Crying over my keyboard. Have been down on my knees praying to a silent God. My faith is shattered to tiny bits. With all the effort I made I thought I must surely stay well. That isn't how it works.

Struck down by the Big D.

2008-06-05T04:57:00.000-07:00

Have sunk into Depression Proper since the weekend. The contact, with all it's emotional content, triggered a lot of stuff, but in any case, I was going that way. Am labouring under a ton of grief, well actually, I've keeled over under the weight of it. Even more or less took to my bed today. Cancelled one meeting which was going to be too challenging (with J's social worker and manager) and now only... only! have to go for a dental check-up. Pretty much every task I have to accomplish is a source of dread, especially social engagements.

But it's hardly a surprise. It is the nature of the beast. The hard part is accepting that, yes, I am still ill, that despite all my efforts to keep a healthy mind, body and spirit, I still had a breakdown. Am now back on 1000mg Sodium Valproate (Epilim). Have not entirely gone full circle to this time last year. But am still absolutely gutted.

I did, however, manage to do one and a half days back at my voluntary work. That really helped, though obviously it wasn't easy going back. Routine tasks and working for a concern bigger than myself, as part of a team, is one of the most therapeutic things I can do. Also managed some yoga. Gave up smoking early last week. Am eating healthily and not too much. But the sadness feels bottomless and overwhelming. All the losses. Because of this illness.

Take care all.

Contact with my Boy...

2008-06-01T12:34:00.000-07:00

Yesterday had our afternoon with J. It went really well. However I was a bit hypersensitive because I am recovering from an episode, and I overreacted (afterwards) to a few things he said (about my weight and my frisbee-throwing!) Kind of exploded at Richard in the evening. He was very restrained really, considering the state I was getting in. I was just emotionally overwrought and found the whole thing...the contact, my Mum's presence in my house, the depression, all too much.

However as I say it was a good contact. Enjoyable, quite relaxed, and for once we didn't have to drive for miles. It was nice to take J back to a place that he remembers well from his younger years, with us.

But I am having to readjust to life on earth. When I feel low I think, oh this is it, I'm in for months of this now. When I feel OK I am half waiting for the other shoe to drop. I don't entirely know what to expect. This episode hasn't been typical so far, so I don't know how much I will be affected by the depression. Some, though, is pretty much inevitable. I'm also grieving for my good mental and physical health, for the feeling of well-being, optimism and self-belief that I had when I was completely on the programme.

I can get back to it, but I have to face the fact that even with the yoga, the meditation, the careful nutritious sugar and caffeine-free diet, all the supplements and all the exercise at the gym...oh and the 12-Step Fellowships...I STILL got ill.

Despite this being the Blog of my Withdrawal from the Dread Meds, I now find myself back on Depakote. I'm seeing the doc tomorrow and will negotiate for a lower dose but I think I will stay on it for the time being and observe how it seems to affect me. Whether, for instance, it sorts out the rapid-cycling but mild moodswings that were routine before the psychotic episode.

Am supposed to be back to my voluntary work tomorrow. I know that will not feel easy. I will find it hard to face them. But once I've overcome that initial barrier it should get better.

Take care all! Love, Zoe.

Heartache.

2008-05-30T07:42:00.000-07:00

We have contact with my son tomorrow. I talked to his foster mum on the phone today and it wasn't a good conversation. I wanted to ask her opinion about whether Jasper would be OK to come to the house, as he had expressed a desire to look through his old things. I also wanted to register with her my idea that instead of him phoning us we could be allowed to phone him (at specific times). None of it went down well, in fact she seemed put out from the first minute when I said we wanted him to come to London this time.

Previously we have always gone down there (to Hertfordshire), and it's quite a long drive, plus the further drive to wherever we have decided to go. The foster mum did seem to emphasise when I spoke to her last week that it would be OK for him to come to London, one of them will bring him on the train. It's a lot quicker by train. So I was a bit non-plussed when she sighed in an irritated kind of way. Then the conversation just went even further downhill.

It's the first time she has been like this, and it came as a bit of a shock. What is more important is that we are not getting any phone contact and she seems to think that us phoning there will put more pressure on Jasper, and that, as he is doing well lately, she doesn't want to risk it. He basically finds it easier to keep us in a separate compartment. That is how he copes.

I felt that I was a) being a nuisance b) being unreasonable c) somehow a monster by implication, because my son feels better not contacting me. And I know those reactions are a little over the top, but I have been hurting all day. I'm recovering from a breakdown as well, and definitely more insecure as a result.

As I was blogging this I got a phone call from Jasper's social worker who is a nice chap, well-meaning. I asked if we could arrange to meet and we set it up for next week, also with his manager. I have written the manager a letter detailing the concerns I have. It seems though, that the manager has already decided to say no to any changes in the phoning arrangements. I will just have to say well what can we do then?

I am somewhat dreading my mum arriving, somewhat dreading the contact and the weekend in general. It will probably not be as bad as I fear just at this moment.

Psychosis as Wish Fulfilment

2008-05-28T12:16:00.000-07:00

Today I'm going to try titling the blog AFTER I've written it. Gives me a chance to work up some inspiration and find out what I'm mainly thinking of today.

Today was a successful day. Cleaned my room, then went to yoga, then to my computer class, then a bit of shopping, chatted to a friend then caught the Tube to Covent Garden and went to see Marjane Sartrapi's Persepolis. Absolutely brilliant...a cartoon (beautifully and movingly drawn) memoir of her life growing up under various Iranian regimes as well as a spell in Vienna and ending up in Paris when her parents more or less told her to leave Iran and never go back (for her own sake)...there was no upbeat, resolved ending, it ended very abruptly actually when she arrives in Paris. I'd been wanting to see that for ages, so I'm really glad I got myself there. It's one of the joys of living in London that I can choose from a seemingly infinite number of films and different cinemas. Nothing better on a damp afternoon like today than disappearing into another world for a few hours.

Hmm, was actually reflecting on the reasons for my psychosis, if indeed there can be said to be reasons. I don't mean triggers, I just mean the underlying psychological motivation for taking as it were a holiday from reality as she is commonly understood. I've got to talk personally, because I only know about me, but there is a lot about reality that I find very hard to stomach. One thing I find hard to stomach is old age and death (oh, don't we all?) Another is the separate existence of all these other humanoids. Apparently just like me, with their own set of thoughts, feelings and impulses. And therefore, to me at any rate, threatening. Then there's all the shit that goes on. People hurting and killing other people. So-called acts of God like earthquakes which hurt and kill thousands albeit in a purely impersonal manner.

The nature of my particular psychosis is that I have the delusion that I am (more or less) God, that therefore I have the power to end the cycle of birth, pain and death, bring Heaven on earth, see instantly into the depths of any human being's soul, etc etc. It is one hell of a powerful wish fulfilment! At the time it feels very real and significant.

Up till now I was ashamed to state the nature of my psychosis so baldly but, I don't know. If you see it as an escape from harsh reality, a prolonged waking dream, the ultimate wish fulfilment, maybe it's not so hard to understand. There's a lot of people outside the pub of an evening when I go past. A lot of them drink habitually to dull that ache. I don't feel the need to do that, but maybe my periodic bouts of psychosis serve somewhat of the same function.

Take care all. Love, Zoe.