Stop the rollercoaster I want to get off

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I lay here with suicidal thoughts on my mind (I am safe! Promise!). I’m so sick of them. I want to live my life with out constantly questioning my will to live. I take my meds, I go to therapy, I keep my doctors appointments. Why doesn’t the roller coaster end? I’m thinking of cancer patients, I guess sometimes their cancer never goes away either despite their best efforts & like mental illness, cancer patients probably feel physically smashed too. My body is taking a beating. Not only am I tired, so tired my bones ache, my physiological systems are suffering too. My metabolic rate is non existent, thanks lithium & quetiapine. I’m on metformin to control my blood sugar/weight. Metformin has also helped manage sugar cravings. My weight gain was rapid but thankfully seems to have leveled out (30kg, one year). My thyroid hormones were affected by lithium, now on thyroxine to look after my thyroid. I want to exercise.. If only hypomania lasted longer (well, not really I couldn’t afford the shopping sprees). Last hypomania I stocked up on shoes, gym clothes, gym bags, exercise DVDs… If only now I had the energy to use them. There is part of me, the determined part – that wants to push through the fatigue & exercise. My body however has other ideas. I know in my mind that exercise is good for serotonin/endorphins, if only I could convince my body to move! I feel that losing weight & being healthier has such an important role in my recovery. It would certainly help me physically, but emotionally I think it would also give me my confidence back & encourage me to get back into life & maybe even consider a relationship. Oh and my wardrobe! The beautiful, sexy clothes I used to wear. Denim skirts, singlets, dresses, tailored work shirts & suits. My high heel shoes and cute slip ons. I have suitcases of clothes in storage patiently awaiting my return to my smaller self. I hate that people constantly remind me that I’m overweight – they have no idea what it’s like. Just exercise & eat right they say. Fine, you mind my bipolar for a couple of months & we will see how that goes. Mood disorders don’t just affect you mentally, they affect you physically as well. And it sucks.

Hmm.. Where am I?

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I haven’t written in a while, mostly because I haven’t had much to say. Things a cruising along just as usual. And as usual I’m so sick of dealing with bipolar disorder. I would love to be able to just ignore it and pretend it wasn’t real. Screw taking meds and therapy and all that stuff. But I have resigned to this being reality. I know ignoring the bipolar would simply land me in more trouble than I’m prepared to deal with right now. I guess this is pretty normal for anyone with chronic illness. It’s tiring, it’s hard work and often seems unfair.
I often think back to what my life was like before diagnosis. I sometimes glamorize it to humor myself. Fast-paced, rollercoaster ride, overpowering emotions, excitement, terror. Reality? It was a scary, unpredictable place. Meds have calmed me down and kept me reasonably stable. But it’s hard work. What I really wonder sometimes is what is actually harder…. Natural self or medicated self? I also wonder if my bipolar would be the same or worse. I have this feeling that if I had not sought intervention, my bipolar was on a path that seemed to be becoming more destructive as time went on – kind of like a pendulum gaining momentum between the highs and lows. If I really put thought into, I would be scared of going back to the instability, but part of me wonders if I am totally happy with stable? Where is the in-between? It’s like a never ending quest of the bipolars, to find that happy place of predictable hypomania, without a crippling depression to follow. So it’s not really “where am I?” it’s more “who am I?”…

Defending My Opinion (And my age??)

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If you think I don’t understand that some people CAN’T work – you’re wrong.

If you think I don’t understand that it’s a blessing I can STILL work – you’re wrong.

If you think that I wouldn’t sacrifice everything to KEEP my job – you’re wrong.

If you think that I don’t have an EXCRUCIATING mental illness – you’re wrong.

If you think I am proud to show up to work nearly every day and DEFY the odds – you’re RIGHT.

So some of you may have been following the disagreement taking place on twitter in which I am defending my right to say:

“Made it through Monday. I work in spite of my illness. Wont give up 1 of the things that gives me a sense of achievement –even if it kills me”

So I have decided to write here my views, so that you may read them in a single post (character limits are bad in some situations).

Firstly “even if it kills me” is a figure of speech – although it could be true as my mental health may suffer but more correctly it is delineating that I will give everything I have to keep my job. Two years ago, my work contract was being terminated and I was going to be left unemployed. This meant that I had to give up my apartment because I couldn’t pay the rent and I started living out of my car during my last weeks of work (I couldn’t receive government assistance until I was officially out of a job and by this point it was already too late). I made my breakfast at work and showered at my local gym and then slept in the back of my car at night. It was a scary time. My local mental health team stayed in touch because I was technically still in their area even if it was in a car. From this point onward I vowed to find a job and stay employed. My hypomanic spending sprees on credit cards meant I had a mountain of debt hanging over my head and this scared the hell out of me. My father told me to declare bankruptcy, but I was too scared of what this might mean – I already thought I was at rock bottom and declaring bankruptcy would mean I would be unable to rent any housing and have to give up my car – my car was all I had left and important for the type of work that I do. I finally got a new job and hated it – well I didn’t hate it, but I was struggling to do the work required and my mental health was not going to go down well with this particular employer. I then found a new job – one that I thought I could manage with my illness with (though I am still classified as a manager in this role).

The other thing is people write about their suicidality and such on twitter all the time – so why the issue here. I have attempted suicide twice – so don’t imply that I don’t understand suicidal thoughts (add to that about 10 hospital admissions for suicidal ideation – what was that? You haven’t been hospitalised? Tell me again that I don’t understand?).

Anyway, back to the work part – At first things didn’t go so well, I got into arguments with my manager over little things, walking out of work in tears, vowing to get on disability and give up work because I knew I wasn’t handling it well. I filled out the paperwork for DSP and knew that it would be approved, but there was something stopping me. Eventually I got called into the big bosses office for a meeting with my line manager about my behaviour. The big boss was considering sending me to anger management classes but conceded that some of the things my line manager had said were out of line, so I was let off. This was my big wake up call, that my behaviour had to change or I was going to be shown up. This prompted me to do a number of things. Firstly I got in touch with my psychologist and mental health team and asked for support. I also explained to my employer that I had mental health issues and so they learnt to deal with me in different ways. When I got angry or upset, they would give me a break to go grab a coffee and come back when I had calmed down and could have a logical conversation. Now I have a very good relationship with my employer and have even been given a permanent position, even though they know I need time off for therapy or a week here and there when I am hospitalised. They have the phone numbers for my mother and my crisis team so that if I don’t show up at work, they can check where I am. We have come to a suitable arrangement.

The next thing that I want to address is being told that because I am 28, there is a difference if someone is 46. First of all, I want to remind you all that this is cyberspace and that even though we read each other’s personal blogs there are still things that we don’t know about people. I don’t think that I should have my maturity judged based on my age. Even though I am only 28, my maturity is affected by life factors, education and other things I’m sure. So I won’t be told that just because I am 28, someone who is 46 is automatically ‘wiser’ than me. That’s not my ego, I’m actually not that egotistical but I won’t be told that I don’t understand something because of my age – that’s a cop out.

“I work in spite of my illness” – Like I have said before I understand that people CAN’T work. My mother is on disability support, I get that she can’t work. But I WILL continue to work for as long as humanely possible because that is MY CHOICE – there is nothing stopping me from going on to disability support right now. There is nothing stopping me from giving up my job, for sure there are days that I wonder why I fight so hard. I’m tired. I’m exhausted by the effort it takes to stay employed. But there is something in my make-up, that keeps me going. Look, there may be a day that I physically/mentally can’t do it anymore, there have been days that I have been late for work because I haven’t been able to get going, but in my mind, someone will need to drag me from my job kicking and screaming – which may be the case for some people also. I will never forget one of my hospital psych assessments. The registrar said to me very seriously “Can I ask you a question?” Of course I agreed. “How do you still work?”. I didn’t know how to answer his question – “I just do” I replied. I have been told that most people with my illnesses and history are on disability support with substance abuse problems. I continue to surprise my treating doctors that I work – I continue to surprise myself that I work. I have been offered part-time, I could be on disability – what am I doing? I work full-time, I work hard and it’s my right to be damn proud of that fact. If I wasn’t proud of it, I wouldn’t feel so strongly about it.

 Anyway, I have more to say on this, but I’m tired of having to defend myself about it, oh and I have work to do …

Success is Sweet

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It is with great joy that I share my successful application for a permanent job! It is pretty much the same as I do now, however I was on a temporary contract which is coming to an end. The reason that this is extra important to me is that I nearly didn’t get the position due to my illness.
The manager called me into his office and told me that management were considering giving me a temporary part time position (24hrs a week) as opposed to a permanent full-time position due to the fact that I don’t work on Thursdays as I attend my DBT skills group.
Initially I didn’t say much but I was shattered as not only did this have financial implications for me, it also meant that I was being judged on my disability rather than ability.
I went home that afternoon and had a bit of a meltdown. I spoke to my crisis team to help deal with the emotions and this got me thinking. What would someone without a disability think about this? Then, I started using DBT skills to work through it.
Why was I angry?
One purpose of anger is to defend our rights when they are interfered with. In this case, my right to be judged based on my skills needed defending. Secondly, I had to acknowledge that this anger was valid. Lastly, I had to allow myself to feel angry – through DBT I have learnt that I often substitute anger with guilt or shame due to some learned behavior as a child.
My previous reaction (a typical BPD response) was to throw a wild tantrum, quit my job entirely and burn some bridges figuratively speaking.
With all this in mind, I approached the manager the next day to speak with him about my discontent with the situation. I expressed my opinion (calmly) that I should be able to continue working as I currently am, making up the lost day over the remaining 4 days I work (therefore being employed full-time) for the remaining 6 months of DBT. It turned out that my previous manager had given him the impression that it was forever. My manager had also given the impression that I didn’t like early morning starts. I then had the opportunity to explain this was only when working late evenings followed by an early shift due to the time needed for Seroquel to wear off. These types of shifts are not required in the role I applied for.
The manager was happy with these explanations/clarifications and I subsequently received the full-time permanent position, for which I now have signed off on.
What I learned here was that dealing with a situation calmly and rationally had a much better outcome that my previous irrational responses. I also learned to defend my rights as a person with a disability (in an Equal Employment Opportunity or EEO Organisation).
I am enjoying the success of both the experience and of having a permanent full-time job. I am also proud that my abilities are recognized

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Hospitalization

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TRIGGER WARNING: This article or section, or pages it links to, contains material about self-harm and/or suicide which may be triggering for some.

I have been in  hospital since Thursday afternoon and got to come home this afternoon (now Sunday evening). My trip to the emergency department on Thursday afternoon was alot more what I was used to as opposed to the issues I had on Monday night. The doctors took me seriously, guess what – I even saw the mental health nurse specialist and psychiatric registrar BEFORE the medical doctors. Again the medical doctors were considerate and kind even though they knew I was there for a psychiatric admission. My blood pressure was still high, but not as bad as Monday night.

The one part of hospitalization I hate, especially on arrival – is the boredom. Mobile phones locked away and too strung out to sleep. I took some books with me, but my mind was so busy that for the first couple of days I couldn’t read – I tried, but kept having to re-read paragraphs and couldn’t remember the paragraph I had read previously. After not sleeping properly for days “on the outside”, I finally got some decent sleep. One of the nurses noticed how restless I was and gave me some additional Seroquel (which I have but very rarely use). Even though it was a small dose, it was enough to bring me down off the ceiling so I could sleep. Eventually, I got back to a point where I could read my books again and I had enough sleep that the thought of sleep was starting to annoy me.

The only other thing that unfortunately drove me nuts, was the patient next door to me. She was well-known by the staff (I can’t talk, they know me too) but this lady re-presented every 2 weeks from what I could hear. The drama started at breakfast with her threatening self-harm with a butter knife (which were supposed to be plastic, but the kitchen had sent metal), regardless to say she also threatened the same with plastic cutlery at a later point or banged her head on the wall. Security came 5 or 6 times for her. I felt sorry for the staff who had to intervene. The thing that annoyed me, was this lady constantly yelling at everyone that they don’t understand what it’s like because she has Borderline Personality Disorder. Part of me wanted to go in and yell at her “I have Borderline Personality Disorder, but I don’t go around using it as an excuse to make life difficult for everyone else”. I understand now where the label of manipulative comes from – not that I agree with it, but I can see why others view BPD that way. I understand the desperation she felt – but for her to publicly blame BPD made me mad. One time that security came, someone else, who sounded like an In-Charge came with them. She told the lady that they had discussed this – that if she came to this ward she had to stay safe and that if she didn’t, they would make her leave. Of course the patient then turned around and said she would jump in front of a train if they did that. It seemed no matter what they tried, she made it as difficult as possible for them to not reinforce her negative behaviour. To me, it seemed that this lady just wanted their attention. I believe that she was in desperate need of their attention and I believe without it she was a danger to herself. I was still irritated though. I know, I know, clearly she was experiencing a lot of inner pain, however for me as a patient, it meant the nurses spent a lot of time dealing with her and her that annoyed me – she demanded attention and she got it. I wouldn’t have minded some attention too to talk about my issues. It also meant that the coffee/tea area for patients was locked up because this lady would take any opportunity to threaten self-harm. It usually ended up the same, with her being sedated. I thought this in a way is probably what she wanted – after all, you can’t feel anything if you are out for the count. Someone should have explained she could have just asked for some medication or something. It is odd to see someone her age act like a 12 year old. I know its not her fault! This is just how I felt at the time.

Other than that, I made it through the 4 days, calmed down, slept and generally started to feel I was back in control of my thoughts and emotions. I am still feeling a little nauseous in the morning from the fluoxetine but I’m giving that one more week.

Anyhow I need to get some sleep, it’s already way past my bedtime!

Some have it.. and some well.. don’t…

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TRIGGER WARNING: This article or section, or pages it links to, contains material about self-harm and/or suicide which may be triggering for some.

So the medication change has been probably as hard as I thought it might be. I had the usual side effects of starting an anti-depressant – nausea, headaches and dizziness which improved after the first couple of days. Then came the emotional adjustment (or coping with the emotional low that sought me to seek advice in the first place. Day 5 I started having strong thoughts of suicide and self-harm. Suicidal thoughts I can generally talk myself through, however given my impulsiveness it does concern me sometimes that I may act before I think (as I have in the past). The self-harm is what bothers me because I know my tolerance is generally speaking, a lot lower. On the night of day 5 when I started having these thoughts, I considered presenting to the Emergency Department at my local hospital. I sat with it for a while and the thoughts wouldn’t let up. These thoughts are either simply that I need to harm myself or can be graphic images in my mind. These thoughts were so strong that even in my dreams I was self-harming. I would then wake up with the thoughts. The scariest one was that I dreamt I was driving to my home town and saying I didn’t want to go home, as I drove around the corner I drove into a tsunami, then was at peace as I accepted my fate. I woke with a start and was freezing cold as though I really had plunged into the ocean. This isn’t the first time I have dreamed of drowning in a sudden ocean surge, I really should research the meaning.

Anyhow, what I decided to do, was go for a drive and hope that getting out of my room would distract my mind. I drove to the hospital and sat in my car outside weighing up whether I really needed to go in. I knew that the thoughts weren’t going anywhere fast and that I was likely to self-harm or worse if I went home – so I went into the emergency department and asked to speak with the mental health team. Because it was just after midnight at this stage, I would have to be assessed by the psychiatric registrar instead of the usual mental health nurse. The nurses at triage were really nice, though I had them worried because my blood pressure was so high that no matter what they did the machines wouldn’t read it. The nurse took me straight into the treatment room for an ECG. I didn’t feel that stressed and didn’t think I was anxious, but the ECG must not have looked good as the nurse went straight to get a doctor to review it because my pulse rate was also high. The doctor she spoke to said it was fine though. She took my blood and spoke to the psych registrar about review. I overheard the nurse say to the in-charge that the registrar was refusing to see me until I had been reveiwed by a medical doctor. So they had to hunt one down to see me so that they could get things going.

The medical registrar was really nice (and good looking too!) he said that he knew that I needed to see the psych reg, but just had to make sure there was nothing medically wrong. My pulse rate had dropped so that was good and basically we just had a quick chat. So that was done and the time was probably around 1-1.30am. The psych registrar in the meantime had gone elsewhere. It was getting to around 2.30am and I asked the nurses if I could go, the thoughts were a bit better but they said no, that I was best to be reveiwed by the psych reg, but that he had gone to see someone else. The nurses must have figured I was devising an escape route, so they moved me to the ED ward. I told them not to make the bed because I didn’t plan on sleeping, but they still did and were nice about it nonetheless. At 3am I asked the nurses on the ward if I could go, I was annoyed that this registrar had refused to see me when he was free on principle and now I was waiting around. Other times I have been in, the doctors just see me as possible and not necessarily in strict order. The nurse said just to give the doctor another 15 minutes.

3.30am the medical registrar came back to chat. I told him I wanted to go home and that I was fine now and was happy to sign a release form to say I left against advice. He said that he didn’t want me to leave given the things that I had told him, he would prefer if I stayed just to be reviewed by the psych. I could tell that he meant it, you know when people are sincere. It was kind of a good because the last time I was in ED and having issues, the in-charge nurse (at another hospital) told me rather rudely to go see my GP (because I didn’t want to sit in the waiting room bawling my eyes out). This hospital everytime I have been, have made sure I wasn’t getting a quick exit.

Finally at 4am the psych registrar turned up. He flashed his ID badge in my face and said “that’s me”. We went to the interview room to chat.I really can’t remember much of the conversation because it was so disjointed and unorganised. He would ask me a question which I would be in the middle of answering, then he would ask something unrelated. He was manic himself if you ask me. I was so confused with all the back and forth. I mentioned that I was getting a tattoo (because I’d organised the booking during the day and I have been planning for months) and he said that people judge people with tattoos, just like people judge self-harm. No, really – what the? I did also mention that I haven’t been sleeping well for a few days, getting maybe 2-4 hours a night broken sleep. He then launched into a spiel on resetting my body clock and not reading in bed. Did he miss the point that I have bipolar and that the med change could have disrupted my sleeping patterns? I got the gist that I was going home. He asked me what I would do if I felt suicidal or like self-harming – I said come back in. I explained that sometimes I feel stupid coming in, because if I really was suicidal, wouldn’t I be out trying to end my life – he said, only I could answer that question… huh? He said something like how would I end my life and I explained and he said “well you haven’t done that yet have you?”. I was a little lost – I explained that it’s a fine line when I’m impulsive because it worries me that one day I MIGHT act on that impulse if I am feeling down. Anyways, out of all the psychiatric reviews I have had in the emergency department this rates up in the top for worst ever. He said he would write up the discharge papers and I could go home. He was saying this to me as we were walking out and the medical registrar I had seen earlier was standing nearby. He looked shocked – I could only imagine that he was wondering why on earth this guy was letting me go home.

I got home at 5am, the thoughts were still around. I still couldn’t sleep so I took some Seroquel to try and calm me down. Finally I slept for a couple of hours. I woke up and sick of the thoughts of self-harm, I cut my arm a bit. Not much, just enough to get that feeling of relief. I can’t remember whether I slept of did something but around 7pm the thoughts were back. I went out for a drive at 2am to have a couple of cigarettes to try and calm me down again, even though I had taken my evening meds and some paracetamol for a headache I still wasn’t tired. I packed an implement in my bag because I felt I needed to self-harm and that I wasn’t prepared to go through the rigmarole of ED again tonight. As I got close to home I pulled over and harmed myself. Finally, I feel like myself again – here’e hoping it lasts.

Its 4am and I really should TRY and get some sleep. I have booked in to see my family doctor in the morning so that I can chat with her about all this.

Take care xx

MMH

 

Change of Meds

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Good morning! Yes its a very cheery 2am here in Australia.

As I recently mentioned, I very recently hit a period of depression. Things have been so good, that I really felt it. I think the last time was back around January.

Anyhow, I saw my psychiatrist on Tuesday and he gave me a few options on what I could do. I decided to try the medication change on my antidepressant. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I decided to take the chance that this medication could be what I’m looking for. Of course, I had the hesitation of knowing the effects of my current meds, but I couldn’t face the possibility of weeks of melancholic depression – literally unshakable – and not do anything about it.

I knew it wouldn’t be easy, but it’s been so long since I changed a medication – but I forgot how horrible it could be too. A friend of mine started anti-depressants not long ago and rang me to ask if the initial side effects are normal. I felt bad for her because for those starting on psych meds, the initial effects are probably far more than they expect. These are serious medications – not like popping a few paracetamol or something. I don’t know, I mean I’m sure doctors tell you the expected side effects, but it usually seems worse when it happens. “Dizziness” doesn’t quite sum it up. Maybe they should say “Dizziness of the room spinning, stop the world I want to get off” kind. “Nausea – the I shouldn’t have eaten that leftover takeout” kind. The tiredness – hmmm, I think this is partly from the meds and partly from the depression. I have noticed however that I’m awake all night – not lying in bed, but up doing things and then realise it’s 1am. So I decided tonight I should stay up all night to reset my body clock – stay awake all day tomorrow and then sleep properly. At least then I should know whether the medication or the bad sleeping habits are keeping me awake. Trust me to do this on the end of daylight savings, which means I have an extra hour of awake time!! Then again DST always screws up my sleeping pattern, so maybe its good to get it all out of the way at once ;-)

Thanks for reading.

ps. day 3 – the dizziness and nausea have mostly settled, thank goodness. Just the sleep to figure out.

The Versatile Blogger Nomination/Award

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I have been nominated by Pride in Madness, Borderline Personality Journal  & Andromache Wilde for the Versatile Blogger Award! I am really happy to receive this, thank you for making me smile!!

:P

Sorry its taken so long to get around to this!

So here are the rules…

  •  Thank the person who gave you this award. That’s common courtesy.
  •  Include a link to their blog. That’s also common courtesy
  •  Next, select 15 blogs/bloggers that you’ve recently discovered or follow regularly. ( I would add, pick blogs or bloggers that are excellent!)
  •  Nominate those 15 bloggers for the Versatile Blogger Award — you might include a link to this site.
  •  Finally, tell the person who nominated you 7 things about yourself.

I nominate the following awesome bloggers (listed in no particular order). I know that some of you have already received the award – but I wanted to point out some of the awesome blogs that I follow so that others can appreciate them also. Plus there are more that I follow and appreciate, so sorry if your name doesn’t appear here – I still love you!

  1.  Bipolar Rubble
  2.  bipolarbekr
  3.  Pop Goes the Culture
  4.  Rescuing Little L
  5.  BPD is *STILL* ME…
  6.  Running Naked With Scissors
  7.  heikewrites
  8.  bipolarmuse
  9.  As the Pendulum Swings

  10.  theartistryofthebipolarbrain

  11.  A Canvas Of The Minds
  12.  Hello Sailor
  13.  lifewithanorexia
  14.  The Mirth of Despair
  15.  Living with Bipolar

As for 7 random things about myself?

1. I have a science degree

2. My favourite colour is blue. Royal blue to be exact. I think I like it because it seems like a calm, peaceful colour.

3. I have a tattoo of a which represents optimism and strength. I think is a good symbol/reminder for me.

4. I have blue/green eyes. Sometimes they are more blue, sometimes they are more green.

5. My favourite book is “An Unquiet Mind: A Memoir of Moods and Madness” by Kay Redfield Jamison. It’s the first book I read about bipolar disorder where I laughed/cried at the behavioural similarities I had with the author. I felt understood :-)

6. I was diagnosed with bipolar etc 2 years ago, but have probably had it for around 10 years

7. I have banned myself from dying my hair (an impulsive behaviour) – it has been over a year!

Thanks for nominating, reading, sharing xx

Melancholic Depression

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Wow. Now that I know that melancholic depression exists, I seem to be able to identify it a lot easier. In essence I am completely screwed! I knew depression would return at some point, but I forgot how debilitating it can be AND that I can’t shake it no matter what I do. The signs have slowly been reappearing but I have been determined to keep pushing through until I am completely spent. It started with just finding it harder to complete daily tasks like showering, brushing my teeth and eating. Today I struggled to get to work. I emailed my boss at some point in the morning (from my bed on my iPad.. Ahh technology) and let him know I would be a couple of hours late – nausea, I wrote, will be there when it subsides. I had dragged my weary body to the shower and then back to my room. I got half dressed in a slow uncoordinated fashion. It seemed to take forever to figure out how to get my legs into the seemingly invisible holes. Exhausted from this feat I slumped back into my warm bed, dragging my legs back under the covers with my last ounce of energy and feel back to sleep. I was awoken by my phone vibrating, a friend was calling. I stared at the phone unable to move, unable to comprehend answering it and speaking. Thank you message bank for taking the call. The next was a call from my psychiatrists rooms confirming my appointment for the following day. Must answer. I wished I had that lady’s enthusiasm – ”yes I’ll be there” I managed. I set my alarm for the third time. Sleep. Alarm. Must get up. Must go to work. Struggle with shirt. I feel like I’m drunk. Reach for car keys on their little white hook. They crash to the floor. No, no, no! With my arms braced against the wall I struggle to pick them up. I lean against the wall, wondering why I am up. Must go to work, I repeat over and over. The 150m walk to my car seems like a marathon. The security guard sits at his post, I hope he won’t notice me, but he does. “Hi, how are you?” he asks brightly. Why is everyone so bloody cheerful today?! “Good thanks, how are you?” where did my voice come from?! I get in my car, my arms ache as I hold the steering wheel. Must go to work. My boss is leaving as I am arriving. He seems annoyed. Give me a break, I surely look like death. He tells me I am holding the fort as though I have a life or death task on my hands. He is annoyed that I didn’t get their earlier so he could send me off training, he has had to go instead. I’m relieved, I couldn’t have stood up in front of people today. I do my time until I can go home and crawl into bed, there are not enough hours until I have to do it all again tomorrow. Sleep.

March Update

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Hello to my faithful followers, I thought I’d check in and let you know how things are going. Firstly a big thank you to those that have nominated me for awards – I will get around to passing these on just as soon as I have my internet back (the ipad app just isn’t so easy to use).

I have just finished the emotion regulation module of DBT which has been quite helpful. Basically, I have learnt to identify emotions and also understand their purpose. Not only that, we discussed a bit about invalidation – why we respond to emotions the way we do. This has to do with messages we were given directly or indirectly as children. For me, it has become evident that I have a problem with the emotion ‘anger’. When I get angry, I get a secondary emotion of guilt and shame, probably because somewhere as a child I was taught I was not okay to be angry. So I am on the path of understanding that it is okay to feel angry. Generally, I have learnt a lot about myself in this module and I actually feel like I am starting to behave better. I did have a minor setback with an incident of self-harm, but I was not hard on myself about it, I know that I can’t be perfect and that this recovery will take time, but overall things are good. I can’t believe nearly 5 months have passed since I started DBT. I was so against starting and now I’m nearly half way through and finding it so rewarding that I am not wanting the end to come too soon!

The other thing that has happened is that I have become a lot more open about my bipolar**. I refuse to be ashamed of my illness. Keeping it a secret made me feel bad and like I should feel guilty about it, it put me under more stress than I was already experiencing. Since I have started talking about it, it’s like a huge weight off my shoulders – I have taken control of my diagnosis and realised that people who know me and care about me can see that it doesn’t change who I am. I wouldn’t tell new people in my life in the first sentence that I meet them, just like someone with diabetes wouldn’t introduce themselves and say Hi I’m Sally and I have diabetes, but once I get to know people I think it’s okay. I definitely feel more whole and in the process I think I am showing people that yes, I have bipolar, but I am a very ‘normal’ person. I am a little bit more careful about telling people I have borderline personality disorder – not because I am ashamed, but because of the lack of awareness, it needs a bit more explaining. It also makes me feel that the name “borderline personality” is too ambiguous. When I told the people close to me, I could see their eyes glaze over.. *cues crickets chirping* “borderwhat?”. I gave them literature about what BPD is, and then they were like – “oh yeah, that totally sounds like you”. I don’t think I could describe BPD in 2 or 3 words, but there has to be something better than borderline?

Hope you are all well, and if not, I hope you feel better soon xx

- MMH

**disclosing your illness is a personal decision, you may want to discuss this with your treating doctor first.

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