A Year Has Passed Since I Wrote My Note
As the line goes from the Police song "Message In A Bottle", but in this instance refers to how long it has been since I last posted anything.
It's been an odd year. But as it was 2011 that would make sense. This is 2012 so should be an even year.
I've now been diagnosed with Bi-Polar Effective Disorder. Manic Depression to you and me, but mine seems to have more emphasis on the depression than the mania. Still, after referrals, different medications and testing by various doctors, I am signed off from looking for work for the minute. I have new meds - the sixth different lot I've been prescribed - and they seem to be working so far.
I know I'm not cured and it's likely I never will be. I am more aware of when my depressive episodes are coming and some tricks to try and pull myself out of them.
I've come a long way, but there's still a longer distance to go.
I've been to Luxembourg twice, Botswana once and nowhere far too frequently.
I've had theories regarding how Geordie is actually the finest of all languages and that its importance in Modern English is sorely overlooked. Some of this still appears true now, but some seems quite fanciful in retrospect.
I've learned more about sewing machines than I thought I would ever know and it still isn't very much.
I've realised that my mother had some very good tips for life and some that were utterly insane. I am still learning which is which. I've also realised that she made words up. I'm not sure if she realised they were made up ("instricated" for example, meaning to have gotten yourself into a situation - physical or otherwise - from which you have difficulty getting out of because you and the situation have become one. I like to think of this as being a contraction of "intrinsically implicated", but suspect she was just a little bit mad.)
I've discovered the joy of an Ouma Rusk and where you can get them in the UK.
I've argued with Emirates airline, various banks, the DWP, my family and my demons. At the moment, I would consider my record to be less than convincing, but if I can manage to only win the one with my demons, that would be a fine result.
I've realised just how ill I actually am and that my depression is not my friend. It seems odd to say that, but up until very recently, I thought my depression was actually responsible for keeping me alive. Being too negative to attempt suicide (because I thought I would do it wrong and end up being paralysed from the neck down) seemed benevolent until I considered that the reason I was feeling suicidal in the first place was down to the same depression.
I hope I'm through the worst of it, but if this is just the eye of the storm, I'll be better prepared for the tail end of the hurricane when it comes.
You may struggle to understand what goes on in my head at times. Imagine what it feels like for me when I can't understand it either.
You may think I am ignoring you because I've not contacted you or haven't replied to a phone call, email or text. I'm not, I'm just having a major communication breakdown in general and can't stop the conversations in my head long enough to be able to speak to anyone clearly.
You may think I should just cheer up & snap out of it. So do I. Sadly, it's not quite that simple and will require medical and psychological intervention. Which is not easy for me as my illness has helped me build a huge distrust of psychiatrists, psychologists, therapists and practitioners of CBT.
You may not be prepared to wait for me to be back to normal & this is fair enough. However, unless you were romantically attached to me or lived in the same house as me, what you consider to be me being normal is probably me being manic.
You may want to write your own note to me. I will try to reply. It may take me a while though.