1st April 2012

I haven't added anything to my blog for quite a while now - well, since 5th January to be precise. At that point I was falling rapidly into a "low" which lasted for quite a while, I don't know how long as I now have no concept of time (previously I had very accurate internal timing and could estimate the time within a minute or two) Not now though, did my low last a week? a fortnight? a month? Not a clue! Anyway, as always, it passed and it was full speed ahead into a "high" These are a bit more dangerous than the "lows" During low times, I have what my Psychiatrist calls "safe factors" which prevent me doing anything ridiculous ie suicide. My safe factors are my son (18) Phil, particularly as he has MS and of course beautiful Baldrick - the thought of leaving them behind is abhorrent at all times, and even though my medication puts me at greater risk of suicide ideation, Dr. B and I remain confident this won't happen. The highs on the other hand are quite irrational, this time I have lost 21lbs in weight as for days on end I cannot sit down, both my brain and my body racing through the days until I'm completely exhausted - even then, my brain won't stop - get out and take photos, do the garden, work, do huge sort outs, tackle admin, phone every single person I've ever met, tweet until I drop, see friends, clean stuff, dig, spend, cook, write ad infinitum.......

Which brings me to this part of my blog: Why my breakdown was the best thing that ever happened to me.

Firstly, I need to say to anybody else who has experienced similar, I am NOT trivialising the devastating impact such an experience has on your life. It is hateful. This is purely a personal perspective, not a generalisation. Ok. I worked solidly for 35 years. Apart from my maternity leave, which was only 10 weeks (I had no money so had to return asap) I worked in London, commuting nearly 100 miles a day from Kent and was exhausted from the day I returned or even before (a new baby really takes it out of you!) I had one holiday in 19 years. I likened it to being on a hamster wheel, round and round at great speed, unable to find a way to get off, so had to keep on running. When I eventually crashed and burned, it was as if somebody poked a pencil in the spokes of the hamster wheel, it came to a sudden halt and I fell off the side, broken, burnt out, scared and delusional. That was 15 months ago. Its fair to say the first year following that was very rocky indeed but recently things are becoming clearer. Life is much slower now. I don't work full time and will probably never hold down a professional, responsible job ever again. We are always skint, whereas previously I earned a good salary and we lived well. I had a busy and varied social life. It doesn't matter that its all gone - Phil and me laugh every day, we take Baldrick for walks, we sit in the garden or make some sandwiches and head off to the park.
It is rare for me to go to a pub or a gig now. I no longer drink and I cant really handle big crowds or loud noise. I have seen so many bands in my time, have been to the best (and worst!) clubs London has to offer, eaten in the very best restaurants, met very interesting people. I married a guy in a glam rock band, played roulette (not russian, lol) with Mick Jagger, and held hands with a very well known person (who shall remain nameless) whilst they cried in desperation at how worthless their existence had become due to cocaine abuse. I thought I had a life. And I did. A vacuous, empty, false life. Like a beautifully wrapped, expensive, exquisite looking box of chocolates, which when opened contained nothing more than cheap caramels.

Now I have a life. I really do. In the past, I thought there were Sparrows and Pigeons in the park. Genuinely. I really thought that was all the bird life that inhabited the place! Now I've seen Woodpeckers, Crows, Goldfinch, Pied Wagtails, Cormorants, Moorhens, Robins and more. I've photographed them all. I appreciate solitude, sunsets, butterflies, big fuzzy bees going about their business, flowers, the miracle of growing things from seeds, introspection, the way Baldrick blows down my ear to wake me up in the morning, the excitement waiting for Misti to give birth to her beautiful kittens and so much more. Previously, other than my great love of dogs everything else above would have gone unnoticed - I was far to busy working, going out, being full of my own self importance and thinking being a money making robot was definitely the key to eternal happiness (which begs the question - why am I classed as mad now and not then???)

Of course, that paints quite a rosy picture, but it's far from rosy - I'm still trapped in a lonely bubble, safe from the world and myself with an unreal, invisible security shield. It will probably always be like that, but I'm learning to control it now. Last week we had a big "tweet up" at Shorne Wood Country Park. Great people turned up. Lovely dogs. As we walked along chatting and watching the dogs crashing around and having fun I remember thinking to myself that even though I was in my bubble, I was "part of" the crowd. Not different. Sort of almost "normal" (whatever that is) nobody treated me any differently, nobody spoke to me as if I was the local nutter, nobody avoided me (or at least if they did, they were polite enough that I didn't notice lol) It's not much, but it's a start. I have a LOT of issues I need to address. I am awaiting CBT. My OCD is ridiculous, my fears irrational. But I feel I've made some headway. Infact quite a lot. And that has to be better than none at all.

5th January 2012 - It had to happen....

I was crashing through the new year at a rate of knots, happily observing my own rules about positivity, sorting the house out, facing everything I had to do - I was even going to do a blog about my mum (RIP) and face some issues I had surrounding our relationship (issues created by me, NOT Mum) using the blog as a kind of catharsism in the hope I could move forward and leave some of the mental pain behind. I was that confident and motivated. Last night I had a conversation with somebody, the person and the conversation details are not important (they could read this and I would hate to upset them) but I took their comment really badly, blew it out of proportion and way out of context and suddenly realised I was in for a crash.
Of course it arrived with force this morning, as soon as I opened my eyes the familiar grey cloud had positioned itself above me and was here certainly for the day and probably longer. I usually want to log into Twitter, look at doggy pics, catch up with my friends on there, joke, laugh, share ideas and eventually tear myself away, reluctantly, to get on with the day. Last night and this morning wasn't like that - I did a couple of half hearted tweets but couldn't muster anything interesting to say. Mindlessly, I looked at the TV, Jeremy Kyle, some guy who thinks he can sleep with any woman in the world, some black MP who said something apparently racist about white people, mindless, mindnumbing crap being fed into my brain - a one way diatribe of nonsense and I was just sitting there letting it happen.
Coffee. Fill in a 41 page form for council tax - being that I was an LGO for nearly 30 years I should have rattled it off in 15 minutes. It seemed to take hours.
Phil, in pain with his shoulder injury AND a wheelchair user, had to venture out to Tescos alone - I just couldn't do it. I would have rather eaten Baldricks biscuits if that was all there was in the house than be up there with hundreds of people all rushing about getting on with their lives. I feel like the whole world is a stage and I am the only audience member observing the show. Alone.
Phil bought me some really beautiful flowers for New Year. Dark red velvety roses, beautiful huge Lilys all wrapped in smokey grey voile - they are gorgeous. He was fitting a bulb in one of the uplighters this evening and as he brushed past the vase, the petals of one of my beautiful roses tumbled to the floor - all of them, like tears of sadness for its own demise. I was sad to watch it happen and bent down to pick up all the petals now scattered on the floor - a surreal kind of envy enveloped me - I too would like to cry - yeah, it's crap at the time, but you sure feel better afterwards. Unfortunately Duloxetine does not allow tears. Strictly forbidden. Instead, the emotion is stashed away somewhere until there is so much crammed inside your brain, the floodgates open for something ridiculous. The last thing that had me sobbing uncontrollably was a cat that had died in USA. I read it on Twitter. I didn't know the cat, had never seen it, the person who owned the cat wasn't even on my followers list. Still, that was enough to reduce me to tears, the point where I couldn't suppress any more - I need that again (not for another cat to die, of course) but something to open the floodgates so I can start to feel "normal" again.
Sometimes I am very grateful for the bubble that Duloxetine puts me in - I am untouchable, protected from this rough and tumble society, protected from any kind of badness that could befall me, protected from myself. But sometimes, like today, it is isolating, ostracising and a lonely place to be. How I long to be the confident, outgoing, fun loving person I was, instead of a broken empty shell. I feel ashamed of feeling this sorry for myself - one of my friends is seriously ill and I guess she wont be around for long - another was recently made homeless and yet another is in a very unhappy marriage. And here I am feeling sorry for myself - FOR WHAT?? (rhetorical, by the way)
I know this won't last forever, I've been through it a thousand times before but right now it feels like this is all there is. And for now, it is.

1st January 2012.

Happy New Year everybody!! It is nearly the end of day 1 and I am still positive (only joking!) I woke up this morning with as much enthusiasm as anybody else on NY day, determined to press forward with my plans already outlined previously. It is a grim and grey day here in Medway, but that didn't put Baldrick off from wanting a walk, so I grabbed my camera and, resplendant in his new Xmas bandana (flames leaping around his throat) we duly set off for the park.

"All is quiet, on New Years Day" Those lyrics could have been written about Gillingham Park today. There was one brave dad at the swings with his two charges, a man on a pushbike exercising a beautiful black lab pup, two kids with a remote control something or other and a smartly dressed looking couple exercing a chubby elderly spaniel. They were engrossed in conversation with each other - I wasn't paying much attention as I'd set myself up to photograph a crow as he surveyed the park from his vantage point - I wanted to catch him as he launched himself into flight and was prepared to sit it out until he was ready. Smart couple and chubby spaniel drew steadily closer - chubby spaniel introduced himself to Baldrick - much sniffing and tailwagging ensued. Surprisingly, male half of said couple wished me Happy New Year, identified Baldrick correctly as an Italian Spinone and we had a brief dog related discussion, maybe four or five sentences each. We said goodbye, chubby spaniel was called to heel and we walked in opposite directions. No sooner had we parted than female half of smart couple tore into her beloved "You see what I mean - I'm trying to talk to you and you f**k off and talk to that slag!!"

And they tell me I have problems coping???  So, Mrs Smart but very angry lady. I hope this New Year brings you some love and happiness. But on this long and arduous road to inner peace, I think I may reach the finish line ever so slightly ahead of you  :o)

Nothing of any great note photo wise, the crow fled (he was probably a lot wiser than me!) and it was very grey and rainy, so this was the best I could muster from a bad batch,. It is the usual gull/squirrel/crow ensemble available in any park lol. But it satisfies my desire to snap away (Didn't dare ask if I could take some action shots of chubby spaniel lol) Enjoy your day!!

December 31 2011

The last day of the most difficult year of my life. I wont be sorry to see the back of 2011, it has held a lot of heartache in many ways.

I am not gonna set myself up for failure by making resolutions outside of my comfort zone - every year the same old stuff comes up, go back to the gym, become more organised, stay in touch with people more, read more books etc etc ad infinitum. Every year I dissapoint myself, usually by 3rd January! Thats not happening anymore. Instead my only resolution is to try my best to find some inner peace - not in a hippy/trippy kind of a way, but by trying to put some of my inner demons to rest, finally. For until I attain the ability to achieve that, I will not be able to begin the journey back to "normality" (whatever that is) That is a big enough resolution for me in my present state of mind.

The last day of 2011 has been pretty quiet, which is what I wanted. My son, now 18 (where did those years go??) is out with his lovely girlfriend and not expected back until tomorrow. He's doing well, he's on an apprenticeship at Alstom Power, drives a nice car, takes care of his appearance, goes to the gym, has a wide circle of friends, has travelled a lot and enjoys his life. But he's definitely flying the nest. Am I sad? I think so - this damn medication has suppressed my emotions so much I can only guess at how I would have felt before I started it. There again, if he was not forming relationships and making his way in the world, that would be worrying too. So - if he wants to please his mum on this one, he's between a big rock and a very hard place!!

It was an eventful walk in the park today with Baldrick. The weather wasn't bad at all for the last day of December and he decided it was time for a swim and a roll in the reeds!! The pond was alive with birds, ducks, gulls and fish. I took my last photos of 2011 there. A couple of Herons were sitting in a tree, waiting patiently for a catch. Not in a million years would these pics win any awards - the lighting was poor and I had to use full zoom - the background was chaotic (they were sitting in a tree bereft of leaves!) and there wasn't a clear angle to shoot them from. But I thought they were really beautiful birds and I enjoyed taking the pics. And that is my aim for 2012. To be content and to appreciate what is around me. Happy new year x x

December 30 2011

This is my first attempt at a blog - I have wanted to do it for a while, but didnt have the faintest idea how to start and I must thank my (very patient) Twitter friend Kirsty for guiding me through it. So here goes:

At the back end of 2010 I was diagnosed with "a complete emotional breakdown" Chronic GAD and OCD and it probably all started when I was around 3 years old.. I am neither ashamed nor embarrased by this episode and refuse to hide away because I'm barking. I never try to pretend it is anything other than it is. Sometimes I am very happy to see friends, go out, have people round etc. other times I don't want to see you at all, because I just know you are monitoring or tracking me for god knows what. I can be specific about when I first noticed this, it was 10th December, the day I left my job as a Hospital Care Manager for the last time, after following the same career path since 1984. I think I had held myself together for too long and the second I walked out of K&C Hospital in Canterbury for the last time my world as I'd known it crashed around me and suddenly I was a stranger to myself and to other people. I cried all the way from Canterbury to Gillingham in the car, having broken down in my Managers arms telling her I was scared to leave "my family" (My real family,thats another story for another time)

Anyway I was very privileged to be put on a medication (Duloxetine, 80mg) not usually available to NHS patients. If you are depressed, NICE guidelines state that you should be scripted Citalopram or Prozac. This costs the NHS £1 a day per patient. I cost the NHS £30 per day. You can see why NICE recommend the other two, even though neither are suitable for some types of depression (that again is another story for another time)

 

Sadly, even the Duloxetine hasn't worked for me. If my memory serves me well (lmfao) I now need to decide if I want years of CBT/psychotherapy or to have my brain (already frazzled) zapped with some ECT - Both delightful options eh? However, even though the meds haven't helped my condition, odd changes have taken place. I stopped drinking alcohol almost completely, apart from the odd glass of wine with dinner (11 glasses total since December last year) I took up gardening - having had a garden of my own since 1989 and never as much as planted a bulb out there, I now cannot stop. It looks like the bloody Hanging Gardens of Babylon out back now. I am an avid diary keeper, online, including photos, quotes etc (Evernote - download it - its free and brilliant!!) Never kept a diary in my bloody life - what for? - the past is the past! I am more organised, having always been chaotic both at work and at home and I stopped crying (thank fkng God, I hear Phil say!) I also renewed my interest in photography again. At this point, I have to say I am no Henri Cartier Bresson - I have a bridging camera which almost always stays on auto, and any mistakes are corrected in Photoshop!

 

Not for me scenes of urban deprivation, war, "celebrities" or cute chubby babies. Instead of that when my head is in turmoil and my two personalities that vie for space inside my head are at war, I grab my camera and go somewhere quiet to photograph birds, plants, animals etc. I am happy to sit and wait for lengthy periods to get the shot I want - during this waiting time, the turmoil subsides, the harsh inner voices that tear into my very soul are silenced, the haunting thoughts that terrify me (my son being murdered, my beloved dog being stolen, my childhood experiences) leave me totally. I am at peace. For that time.

 

I have been told my condition will never be cured. It is, after all, 48 years old already and very ingrained. But it can be controlled. I will never be the person I was before the floodgates opened a year ago, but I will eventually be able to accept and live with myself again. This ongoing blog will be an account of my return journey from utter madness and some of the photographs that have helped me along the road.

 

A lasting memory of Canterbury - A very beautiful City.

During the last full moon, (10th November) I sat in the garden in the dark until the moon moved behind my neighbours tree. Everything was very still and quiet.This was my only decent shot that night!

The lightening tree on a byway in Iwade - I was walking Baldrick in the summer, just the two of us, him, sniffing, chasing insects, digging etc and me enjoying watching him - everything else was bursting with life, so this tree stood out from the rest.

This filled my heart with Joy. Pagan loves the Xmas tree!

During a particularly troubled time a couple of weeks ago, I took myself off to the park to photograph birds. Instead I spotted this Squirrel, busy preparing for the winter. I took many shots of him, but waited until he eventually got in the right place for the sun to highlight his beautiful tail.

 

 

Walking Baldrick early one morning, we came upon hundreds of tiny toadstools and an interesting flower. The next morning, they had vanished without a trace.