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!!