Phew ....nearly done

It's the day after Boxing Day. Well, I managed to get through Christmas without any major upset and if I'm honest I really enjoyed some of it, even without my son. When I woke up on Christmas Eve I felt more lonely and more scared than I have done for a long time. For a short time I thought how much easier it would be to just pack it all in. Put an end to it all. I always feel like that on Christmas Eve. Thankfully those feelings passed. I'm so lucky to have such great friends. It's impossible to stay miserable when you're surrounded by people that you know genuinely care. I was dreading Christmas dinner with my Mum and Dad but it was fine. They didn't mention my son and neither did I. I know they were thinking about him, he's their grandson after all but they didn't let on that they were upset. I could tell they were. They tried to make my day as happy as possible and vice versa. Even if he didn't want to see me, how could he do that to his Nan and Grandad? 
  I found it more difficult at my sisters with the rest of the family. I always feel like the odd one out. Probably because I am the odd one out! It's nothing that they do, it's just me. Again no one mentioned my son. He's the oldest of five grandchildren. They were all there. It was almost as if he didn't exist. Obviously I didn't hear a word from him. Not even a text. I knew I wouldn't but I kept hoping. That hurts. I've no idea where he was or what he was doing. If something really bad had happened to him I'm sure I would have heard. One of the most important people in my life and now he's gone. Just disappeared. He's homeless, he's got no money, not even benefits, he's cut off from all his family and he's feeding a heroin addiction. Something will happen, I know it. I don't want to think about it but something will happen and I doubt it will be good.
Now all I have to do is get through New Year and I can draw a line under this bloody awful year. I used to love New Years Eve. I loved the parties and getting drunk and singing Auld Lang Syne. I loved the excitement and anticipation of what the future might hold. I think I should just stay in and go to bed early this year. God knows why I think it will be any different when I wake up. It's just another day. I guess we all have high hopes for the new year. I'm not going to make a whole load of resolutions. I've got stuff that I want to do and I'm going to try my hardest but I'm not going to set myself up to fail either. I'm not going to take anything for granted.
Considering everything I feel like my mood had settled a bit now. I cried a bit today, well a lot but I think it was more relief. Relief that Christmas is over. I'm not going to let things get to me. I am a strong person and I know next year will still have its problems but I am determined not to let Bipolar get in my way. I'm not going to let it make things more difficult than they already are. I can't control it completely but if I am careful I am feeling hopeful that things won't be as bad. I don't think I could cope with the constant changes in my mood that I've had over the last few months. I feel ok now without the medication. I keep changing my mind on that one but I'm going to stick with my decision. I'm not going to let doctors or psychiatrists or anyone else dictate how I deal with it. 

Something's making me mad

I'm now wondering if I've done the right thing by stopping my tablets. I'm so fucking restless. I don't know what I want or need. I feel like I'm going to scream. I can't seem to concentrate. It's 3 o'clock in the afternoon and I've done sod all. I was going to do so much today. All I've done so far is wander from room to room not knowing where to start. My language is appalling. Good job I'm on my own. I've got presents to wrap and I can't bring myself to do it. The closer it's getting to Christmas the more wound up I feel. I keep telling myself it's just one day. Trouble is it's not just an ordinary day. I really wish I could just go to bed right now and wake up when it's all over. I'm not really liking people at the moment. I don't know why because everyone's being extra nice. Even that's upsetting me... people being nice.  I feel like I could actually punch someone. People are either gushingly happy and full of it or moaning when they really haven't got anything to moan about. People really are stupid....including me. It pisses me off. How can I go from feeling reasonably happy to feeling so cross in such a short space of time? I had a lovely time with a friend last night. Why am I so horrible and ungrateful today? Nothing changed in the night. It's not that I don't want to see anyone enjoying themselves. I don't know what it is. I'm trying not to spend too much time on my own because I know it makes things ten times worse. Too much time to think just  magnifies everything.
I'm going to have to be so careful that I don't upset anyone over the next few days. I'd never forgive myself.
I don't know if it's lack of medication or Christmas that's making me feel like this. I'm not going to take the tablets again. It's too soon to tell. I'll decide what to do in the new year.
I'll probably wake up tomorrow and be happy as anything again. I have a feeling I'm in for a bit of a roller coaster over the next few days.

So far so good

Well I haven't been carted off kicking and screaming yet! It's nearly two weeks since I stopped taking the Quetiapine. I've decided to leave it a bit longer before I try and come off the Lithium or maybe I'll stay on it after all. Maybe it would be stupid to cut that out, especially when it doesn't give me any obvious problems. In hindsight I probably should have left it all until the new year. Maybe it would have been better to wait for a less stressful time. I could have been waiting forever. There's never a less stressful time. Trouble is once I get an idea into my head that's it.
Sometimes I feel so sick and I'm getting the most horrendous headaches. If I can manage to get to sleep at all I wake up every couple of hours. I'm sure it's just withdrawal symptoms and I'm sure they'll pass. I tried not to read too much on the internet about it. You just get loads of horror stories about shitty side effects of withdrawal that last for weeks. I'm just ignoring it. On the plus side I don't feel so groggy. It's as if a haze has been lifted. I've got more energy so I've been doing more. I also lost 6lb without even trying. I am definitely eating better and don't have the cravings for sweet things. I've actually been able to do a poo that doesn't resemble rabbit droppings...sorry lol, probably too much information there! My mouth feels normal instead of like the bottom of a budgies cage. My skin feels better, not so dry and itchy. My stomach isn't bloated and my feet haven't puffed up for days. I'd say definitely more positives than negatives.
It's how I feel mentally that's more important. To be honest I don't feel that different. My moods are still up and down and all over the place but if anything I feel more alert. I feel as if when I cry I cry harder and with more emotion and when I feel good I feel really good. Ok so maybe I've been a bit high at times but I don't see that as a bad thing. I know I've been a bit excitable and maybe a bit mouthy and my driving is atrocious but I don't think I've done anything that terrible! I'm relying on people to tell me if I get too out of order. My thoughts are running riot and are utterly ridiculous at times but mostly they're happy thoughts and at least I recognise when they are ridiculous. I'm being really careful not to do anything that will get me too excited! I'm trying to keep calm. In my head I want to do all sorts of barmy things but I'm managing to keep a lid on it. At least I've got the urge to do things. I wouldn't say I'm super motivated but I'm doing every day things without really thinking about it. I'm making the most of feeling ok......and I can't remember the last time that happened. 
Everything bad in my life I've put to the back of my mind. I'll deal with it later. 
I do feel scared but at the same time I feel strangely free. 
I told my care coordinator and she wasn't too happy but said she understood that it's my choice. She doesn't think what I've done is wise, especially when I've had so much trouble in the last year. She then went on about how unmedicated  bipolar can quickly get out of control and how I really need to keep on taking the Lithium and how I must contact her or the crisis team if I feel like I'm getting unwell. She said that it's great I'm feeling better right now but that it's too early to tell the true effect of stopping my medication. She said exactly what I expected her to say. 
Well I do feel like I have things under control. I do feel like I can cope with Christmas without breaking down. I do feel like I know what I'm doing and I do feel better than I did a month ago. 

Just keep on taking the tablets

Sometimes I wonder what the fuck I'm doing when actually I know exactly what I'm doing. It's not that long ago that I wrote a post about how important medication is in helping to control my bipolar. I guess that's how I saw it at the time. I don't feel the same about it right now. I've decided to wean myself off my medication. I've been feeling like crap for months now. I feel physically ill and I'm convinced it's to do with my medication. I'm always thinking about stopping it. I think about it at least once a week when I'm decanting a shit load of pills into daily compartments. I think about it when I feel so physically tired it's an effort to get up. I think about it when I look at myself I the mirror and can't see that "spark" I always had. I think about it when I get headaches and constipation and nausea and spots and a horrible taste in my mouth and, and, and....I get it into my head that if I could just get rid of all the crap they keep pumping into me I could start to think clearly and sort myself out, physically and mentally. Maybe just maybe they got it all wrong and there's nothing wrong with me. Maybe all my bipolar symptoms are caused by all the mind altering rubbish they keep expecting me to swallow. Well, obviously saying I haven't got bipolar is pretty stupid but to what degree have I got it?  I managed most of my life without anything drastic happening. My ups and downs were just part of who I was. It was only when I was given antidepressants that the real problems started. I haven't felt right for so long now I owe it to myself to give myself a chance. Part of me knows I'm taking a huge risk but an even bigger part of me thinks it's worth it. All they do is bang on about how you must keep on taking the pills. Don't come off your medication without talking to your doctor. What's the point of talking to my doctor? I know what he'll say. I need my medication. I'll get ill without it. Well I've been ill with it. I've been up and down and all over the place for months and months. I'm convinced it caused my heart attack. I can't do it anymore. I seriously can't. I don't want to stop because I think I'm better, I want to stop because I'm not.  Maybe I am being irresponsible by not talking to the psychiatrist but he's a locum, he doesn't know me and I can't stand him. Sometimes you just have to go with your own instinct. I'm not bothered about being on medication if I really need it but that's the whole point, do I really need it? I don't think so. I don't think it's really helping me anymore. I don't think it really did in the first place. I've had enough of feeling shit. I've had enough of crappy side effects. I've read about how people can control their bipolar med free. I've come off the Quetiapine. I was pretty impatient and did it virtually cold turkey. It's now 4.30 am and I haven't slept a wink. I feel really ill. I've got the "jitters", I feel sick and I've got the headache from hell. Well last week I felt sick and headachey all week anyway. See, if this is what it does to you when you're trying to get off the stuff just think of what it does long term taking the stuff. I'm sure it will pass and I'm sure it will be worth it. I have to keep telling myself that. I'm starting to feel a bit scared now but I'm determined to keep at it. Once I've been off the Quetiapine for a couple of weeks I'll maybe think about weaning myself off of the Lithium. I haven't decided yet. I've never really had a problem with Lithium. I've never had bad side effects from Lithium. It's the Quetiapine that has always concerned me.
I haven't told anyone I'm doing it except for one friend who I knew would understand. It would have been too much hassle. I know I'm going to get lectures and all sorts now but when it boils down to it, it's up to me. I'm not a child, I'm not about to run riot. I'm not a danger to myself or anyone else. I'm a grown woman with a mind of my own. Now it's done and I think I'm ok. Time will tell.
They say that life with bipolar is better with medication. My life isn't that great with it. I'm willing to take my chances. I won't know unless I try.
I'm not taking this lightly. I have thought about it carefully. I'm not doing it on a whim. I know that there is a huge risk involved. I have thought about the consequences for me and my family and friends if it all goes horribly wrong but I'm not expecting it to go horribly wrong. I have enough knowledge now to recognise how I'm feeling. Ffs that's what I seem to spend most of my life doing, analysing my moods. I just want to forget about it and have a life.

By writing this I'm not in any way advocating that anyone should stop taking their medication. For some it could be catastrophic. It's just my own personal view and experience.

Spot on!

       No need to say anything!

Get Over It

  

                                 

Mental illness is not real. It's not a proper illness. 

Bipolar disorder is just a label they stick on people because its fashionable. No one really had Bipolar before all these celebrities got on the bandwagon. Just snap out of it. If you try harder you can get over it. 

I've heard it all before.

People don't tell someone with a heart condition to stop taking their tablets and get over it. They don't tell someone with diabetes that they can live without insulin. 

Bipolar disorder is "real" and without the proper treatment can be deadly. 

Bipolar disorder is an illness that affects thoughts, feelings, perceptions and behaviour ... even how a person feels physically. Its a mood disorder.  It's probably caused by electrical and chemical elements in the brain not functioning properly and is often found in people whose families have a history of mental illness.
While we're at it, let's be clear about something: a mental illness is one that affects the mind, not one that's all in the mind.

Most often, a person with bipolar disorder (manic-depression) experiences moods that shift from high to low and back again in varying degrees of severity. The two poles of bipolar disorder are mania and depression. 

Of course that's putting it in very simple terms. It's different for everybody. It affects people differently and everyone copes in their own way.

I'm not an expert on Bipolar but I'm becoming an expert on my own Bipolar.

I have to be mindful of how I live my life in order to keep well. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn't. It's not an easy thing to live with sometimes it's bloody hard but hey, I'm still here! 

                         

Why worry?

I don't know how I end up getting myself into certain situations. I feel like I'm never going to have a normal relationship again. When I was married I never dreamed that I would be single again. I never dreamed that the men in my life would consist of a guy who I absolutely adore, who will never be more than a friend and another who I also adore, who will never be more than just sex. Lol, some would say that is a perfect scenario. Of course I can't leave out my ex husband, who I also adore but don't necessarily like and can't seem to break free from. Things will change. Whenever and however things change it's going to be so difficult. It scares me. Why can't I just enjoy things as they are now? Maybe they are normal relationships.Why do I always look for problems? 

I can't imagine a girlfriend being happy about me spending so much time with her boyfriend. I can't imagine she'd be thrilled about us cooking each other dinner, going out for meals, watching films and getting takeaways. I can't imagine she'd be happy about us having long conversations on the phone every week. I can't imagine she would believe that we are just friends and don't sleep together. I'm scared that she'll try and put a stop to us seeing each other. I don't want that to happen.Why do people have such a hard time recognising that a man and woman can be close friends without sex? Why are people worried that by having a friend like this it's going to stop me meeting someone else?  I love the time we spend together. He makes me really happy. There's nothing strange about it. Of course she doesn't even exist yet so as usual I'm worrying about something that hasn't even happened. I just read that back and it sounds so selfish. I would hope that if he did meet the right person I would be really happy for him. She might even like me! He deserves to be happy which is the most important thing.

 So, I was just about getting used to the idea that it was over. When I saw him out it really was ok. I felt happy that I could be in his company without feeling awkward. I didn't look at him as someone I'd had sex with, I looked at him as a real person and as a friend. 
So how did we end up having sex again? I didn't make him do it. I didn't trick him into coming over. He wanted it as much as I did. The most exciting, amazing sex ever. So how come I feel so confused about it? It was what it was. 
Feelings, fucking feelings, that's what happened. I don't know if it's my mood at the moment, making me more sensitive but I felt that he was saying things to make damn sure I wasn't going to read too much into it and so that I wouldn't expect it to be happening again anytime soon, if ever. That's no different to every other time. We never do spend ages chatting. We never do make plans for a next time. I don't know. For the first time since this all began I felt uncomfortable. Now I really don't what will happen. I feel sure it's just me being stupid and over sensitive. I doubt he's even bothered. Maybe I'm upset because I really do like him and I really don't want it to stop. I love the excitement. I don't want it to be complicated. I'm single, he's single, where is the problem? Maybe the problem is me. 

And then there's my ex husband who is clearly still in love with me but he doesn't want me. He can't come to terms with the fact I have bipolar. That's it. 

I probably do spend too much time worrying about things that haven't even happened. I don't know if that's part of being bipolar or just me. 

I still love you but you've got Bipolar!

The impact of a mental illness isn't just confined to those who have it. It can be just as devastating to those around us. Most of the devastation is born out of ignorance and boy were we ignorant.
I sat at the kitchen table in my old house. I looked around and nothing had changed. Everything was exactly the same. The only thing I could see that was different were some pictures of him and her. He sat opposite me. I could see one of the pictures over his shoulder. I didn't feel upset, I just thought how bizarre. I couldn't stop looking at them. Three years since I left and it was as if I hadn't been away....except for those pictures. When I went to the loo the bathroom was the same. I looked into the lounge...exactly as I'd left it.
So he wanted to explain. Explain it from his point of view. Set a few things straight.
He said he still hadn't moved on even after all this time. He said he still felt guilty for what he'd done to me. He said he knew it was wrong because I was so ill and couldn't help it. He said he still loved me and always would. He said he still felt guilty that he couldn't cope with the fact that I had a mental illness. He talked about how for months and months he didn't know what was happening to me. How he was constantly walking on eggshells in case he did or said the wrong thing. He couldn't cope with coming home to find me sometimes so upset and inconsolable, or full of anger, or "too happy", never just "normal". He was scared to walk through the door. He said he tried to help but after months and months of me pushing him away and not knowing what was wrong with me finally led him into someone else arms. He stayed away because he didn't know what to do. He said that it had a huge impact on his work having to keep taking time off to take me to appointments and having to lie about what was wrong with me. He said it had a huge impact on everything. Years of hiding the fact that I had a problem from friends and family and then the "embarrassment" of having a wife who was mentally ill. He tried to explain how when he took me to appointments with the psychiatrist it made him sick to the stomach. He didn't want to know about it and he didn't want help to understand it....he just wanted to ignore it and hoped it would go away.
He said the whole situation was devastating. He said life was just turned upside down. He just didn't know what he would come home to, so he often chose not to come home. He said when he was with her he could just forget about everything. He said he knew it was wrong.
I don't really know what he wants from me. It's obvious he still loves me but I'm always going to have Bipolar and he will never be able to come to terms with that. He said he wants me to know that he'll always be there for me and he wants me in his life. I don't know if that's wise.
I asked him if he really loved her. He looked at me blankly then said yes but not in the same way he loved me. I asked if it bothered her that he wouldn't make a commitment . He said it bothered her that I still had such a hold over him. That's not my doing.
I told him I've forgiven him. I really have. I think he was weak and selfish but I know he didn't set out to hurt me.  He said he'll never forgive himself. It sounds awful the way he treated me but that really is how mental illness can affect people. I know 100% if I'd had any other illness we would still be together. There is still a huge stigma attached to mental illness. It is still something people find so hard to deal with and to admit to. When it just creeps up on you it really is devastating. I could tell by his face and see it in his eyes that he was telling the truth. I know he feels disgusted with himself for feeling that way. The thing is we were both ignorant when it came to mental health and we were both battling to find answers. We still are. I do still love him, I never stopped but I could never be with him again. I would never trust him and I can't change who I am.
I don't know what will happen. Sometimes I do wonder what on earth is it all about.
I always thought nothing could get in the way of true love....I guess Bipolar can.

How desperate can a drug addict be?

What do you do when your only son is on the end of the phone and begging you for money? What do you say when he tells you he'd rather be dead than have to face up to the mess he's got himself into? What do you do when you know that if you give him money he'll probably use it to buy heroin? Everyone tells me the same. Don't give him money. If I do I'm just enabling his addiction. It's not that easy when someone you love is crying and begging for help. He promised me that he'd hand himself in to the police but needed money to buy Subutex (a prescription drug used to treat opiate dependency) because he felt so ill and couldn't face doing it without. 
What do you do when he sends you a text like this? ...... 
 "I'm your son. If I had a son or daughter I'd do anything for them, drug addict or not. Why? Because I know what it's like. I'm not stupid, I know right from wrong. I know you think you're prolonging me from sorting myself out by giving me money and you're right but I'm ready to do it now. Everything bad that's happened in my life is my own fault because of drugs. Don't ever blame yourself. I just want your help one last time. I need £40. Love you x" 
I gave him the money. I don't know if I was right or wrong. I just pray that tomorrow he'll do what he said and hand himself in. 
Of course he didn't hand himself in. I'm such an idiot. It just goes on and on. I should cut all ties and let him get on with it. I can't do it. When you have a child, that child becomes your world. As a mother you would do anything to protect them. It doesn't stop when they become an adult. It's a life long commitment. The problem is I haven't really been helping him. The thousands of pounds he's had from me over the years hasn't helped him at all. I've just been enabling him to feed his addiction. I hate myself for that. I do feel guilty because I am guilty. 

Christmas Fear

I don't know why Christmas has to be such a difficult time. I guess there's always the expectation that it's got to be the happiest most joyful experience where everything is perfect and everyone is perfect. In reality it's bloody hard work. I can't stand it. I can't stand the whole Christmas thing. I'm not just being a humbug. It really is making me so miserable. I just find it too difficult and too much. Everything about it either sends me into a panic, makes me cry or brings back painful memories. Of course there are times when I get excited about it all, then I get over excited and over enthusiastic only to come back down with a bump. I really would cancel it if I could. I'm trying my hardest to make jokes about it and try to be upbeat but I just wish it was over. I'm not religious so it has no meaning in that sense. I know it's a difficult time for so many people.
I used to love Christmas. I could never understand why people moaned about it. It was the most magical, special time. I used to love the the songs, the adverts, the food, the drunken nights out, family gatherings, the decorations...everything. Now it spells disruption, over stimulation, over excitement, pressure to be organised, fear of unreasonable expectations from friends and family, over indulging, alcohol, loss of sleep and broken routines. Having to look back over another year and the fear of what the next year will bring. Bad memories of past Christmases seem to return with a vengeance. Christmas is a whole host of things that can trigger my bipolar symptoms and upset my mood.
I know the fact that I've had such a hard time this year will compound it. I don't feel that my bipolar has been that well controlled since my heart attack in February. I feel that I'm always close to "the edge". I don't really know how to explain that. I just don't think it would take much for me to lose it completely.
It's everywhere and it's overwhelming. It gets into your thoughts. It makes me want to scream.
I don't know where my son is and I doubt I'll be seeing him. I've never had a Christmas without him before. That will impact on my parents too. Christmas Day will be hard.
I'm aware that trying to commit suicide on Christmas Eve and ruining Christmas for just about everyone I know is not something people forget...I know that even 3 years on it will cross my parents, my sisters, my friends and even my ex husbands mind. I still feel guilty and I'm still petrified that I'll feel that way again. I'm scared to be alone on Christmas Eve.
There will be good times. I know it won't be all doom and gloom. I have great friends and I know my family will look after me. I just have to try and take extra care. I have to try and and keep things as routine as possible. I have support from my care coordinator and a number for the crisis team. I still can't wait for it to be over.

Back to reality?

I'm trying to do things to get myself back into some sort of routine but it's just so hard.
I don't feel as if upping my medication has helped that much. It's two weeks now and I still feel that my mood is all over the place. The only difference I can say is that at times I feel overwhelmingly tired. I seem to be going from high to low in a short space of time. One day I feel full of energy and enthusiasm. I have so many ideas I can't keep up with myself. The next I feel miserable and lethargic and just can't get anything done. Some days I can't stop eating and other days I don't eat a thing. Some nights I'll go to bed at 8 and sleep soundly for hours. A few days later I'm up all night, chatting to god knows who online. Sometimes I have conversations that I'd never have in real life. It sometimes excites me and it sometimes disgusts me. I sometimes get bored and I sometimes get lonely. It's like another world when you're wide awake at three o'clock in the morning and have energy to burn. Sometimes I feel great. A lot of the time I feel like crap. Just lately I've had times where I've I felt so high I've almost been bouncing off the walls. Everything just seems hilarious. I've felt so happy it was as if I didn't have a care in the world. I've also had times where I feel like I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders. It frightens me how quickly my mood changes and for no apparent reason. It's hard work and it's confusing.
I've decided I can't take the increase in dose of my medication. I haven't really felt any benefit. Even though I'm having some really up times, for the rest of the time it's just making me too tired. Last night I went to bed at 11 o'clock and woke up at mid day. Thirteen hours sleep is way too much. It's not even as if I was doing anything tiring the day before. I still feel groggy and as If I haven't slept at all. If I felt better in myself then maybe it would be worth it, but I don't.There's absolutely no point in talking to my doctor. I know exactly what he'll say. He'll tell me to give it a bit longer and he'll tell me there's a good reason why the dose was increased. I don't care what anyone says. I don't want to feel like I'm not with it. I don't want to spend half my life asleep. I'll just have to do it and hope for the best. Of course now I'm back to square one. It's so fucking annoying.
That's the trouble with medication. It works brilliantly then all of a sudden it just seems to stop doing what it's supposed to do. I know it's risky to muck about with it but I know how I feel. I'm not prepared to be turned into some kind of zombie.
I'm trying to make sure I've got things arranged. It's the days when I'm not seeing anyone or going anywhere that are a real problem. My motivation to do anything is zero, the day goes by and I haven't done a thing. It's just so hard. It makes me feel useless and guilty. It's a vicious circle.
I started back at the gym with the help of my friend who also happens to be a personal trainer. Getting myself there is unbelievably difficult yet once I'm there and doing I feel so, so much better. I can't tell you how much exercise benefits me. Well, it's good for everybody but it really does have a huge impact on my mood. It's hard this time because I'm so unfit compared to how I used to be. It's frustrating that I can't do the things I did before. I'm so grateful to have the support of someone who knows what he's doing. I know I just have to persevere. My best friends son is also giving me encouragement . It really helps to have someone that actually believes I can do it, especially when I so often doubt myself. It's given me a bit of spark back....and of course when I'm a bit hyper and can't sleep I can jump on my stepper and step the time away!
Working in the shop is helping too. I worry about it constantly yet once I'm there it's great. It makes me feel like I'm doing something useful for a change, well I guess I am. I can't believe how tiring it is. It's only a few hours yet I feel exhausted . At least I've got a reason to be exhausted.
I'm trying to make sure I keep in touch with people instead of isolating myself.
If I can just make sure I've got something to do every day then maybe things will improve.  If I can keep myself busy maybe I won't have time to think too much. Maybe I won't feel so out of touch with reality.  Maybe I'll start to feel like me again.

It's obvious she's mad

There are odd times when I forget I've got bipolar and I just carry on with day to day things without even thinking about it. It's not very often that happens. It's hard to forget when you're shoving a whole load of pills down your throat every day. It's hard to forget when your life has been turned upside down. It's hard to forget when most of the time you just don't feel right. It's hard to forget when you have to be mindful of nearly everything you do in order to try and keep yourself well. Maybe it's because it's been so long since I could say I felt really "stable". Maybe it's because there hasn't been a time for months and months where I could say I've been totally symptom free. Bipolar really is shit sometimes.
I don't know why but I'm often so conscious of it. I don't mean I'm ashamed of being bipolar, I mean I'm just so conscious of how I look, how I act and how I feel. I feel like I've got an arrow pointing at me saying "look at her she's got bipolar". Ridiculous really. When I'm with people that know I've got it I can't help thinking that they are looking at what I do or say and relating it back to bipolar. I feel like they're judging me, deciding if I'm up or down, if I'm in a good mood or bad mood, if I'm normal or crazy. When I'm with people who don't know I think that they must be thinking there's something not quite right about her. She must have something wrong with her. She's obviously got some sort of mental illness. She's not normal. I worry that people are laughing at me behind my back or discussing how mad I am. Of course it's mostly me being paranoid. Of course it's just me not thinking straight....
I'm sure most people who know me, or when people first meet me they think I'm outgoing and confident. When I'm up that's true. Social situations excite me and make me even more hyped up. I thrive on interacting with other people. I need to be around people. I need to be doing things. The rest of the time it's just an act that I've perfected over the years. Sometimes the thought of being near other people makes me feel so uncomfortable.
There are very few times that I feel really at ease with myself. When I'm with my best friend, just the two of us, that's when I feel most comfortable. I still worry that she thinks I'm stupid and I'm getting on her nerves. When I'm with my other best friend, that's when I feel most safe. I still worry that he thinks I'm a pain in the backside and that he feels sorry for me. I worry that he's embarrassed about me. When I'm with the guy I have sex with (so it did happen again) that's when I feel the most alive and confident about myself. I still worry that he doesn't really like me and thinks I'm just some old slapper. When I'm with my family I think they are judging me. It's not their fault. I know there's no real reasoning behind it but I can't help thinking it. Having said that I do think people really do sometimes base their opinions on the fact I have bipolar. I guess I do act differently sometimes. I guess it is obvious if I'm high or if I'm depressed. I guess if they pick up on those things and act on them then it's not all bad if it means I get help before things get out of control. 
I spend so much time worrying about what people think, yet in reality I doubt most people even give a shit. Some of the time I really don't give a shit either. If people don't like how I am tough. I'm such a contradiction. I think living alone makes you a bit more selfish, nothing to do with bipolar. I spend too much time thinking about things and analysing every little word or action. I over think things and end up coming to the most ridiculous conclusions. I can't help it.
For a huge part of my time it's a constant battle, juggling with my thoughts. Since I lost my job I have far too much time on my hands. Too much time to think about everything. Too much time to worry. Someone told me I was lucky not to have any responsibilities and be able to do whatever I like. Maybe but I don't always feel that way. It's hard enough getting through each day, even harder when there's no structure. I feel like I'm mostly floundering about wondering what to do next.
I've decided to go back to volunteering in the charity shop. I really loved it before so I'm hoping it will give me some purpose. They don't know about me being bipolar, though I'm sure they know that something's not quite right about me. 

Changes

I don't know why I feel so cross at the moment. I just feel angry but I don't really know why. I think I've come to a bit of a standstill and I don't know how to move forward. Sometimes I feel incredibly sorry for myself. Then I feel incredibly guilty as I know my little life and problems are pretty insignificant in the scheme of things. I get so wrapped up in my own world when really I'm not that important. Things have changed so much over the last few months and I don't really know how to handle it. I need to move on but I'm not sure how. There are some things I have no control over but there's a huge amount that I do and that's frightening. 
I think I've finally come to the conclusion that there's nothing I can do about my son. The police have a warrant for his arrest and he has gone AWOL. I can't help him if I don't even know where he is. The only time he's called me is to beg for money. I don't know if he is back on the heroin. I know he is in trouble and I know that he's blown his chances of help from the rest of my family. It's not good but I'm powerless to do anything. I feel like I've let him down but in reality he has let himself down. I know I should just let him get on with it but he's always there in the back of my mind. Of all the things I wished for my son, to be a drug addict was the last thing I ever imagined. 
Yesterday I had to go to the meeting to finalise termination of my employment. It was awful. I didn't realise how awful it would be. Even though I knew it was coming it still upset me more than I imagined. Having to sit in front of a panel of managers and listen to the report that had been compiled about how I'd had recurrent bouts of absence due to my ongoing mental health problems. How I'd been employed by them for 23 years but since 2007 I'd had over 20 episodes of sickness and over 1,200 days absent. How I'd had input 
from occupational health, the mental health team and various other agencies. How the organisation had done everything in their power to try and help me keep my job. How after due consideration they could no longer support me in my role. I tried to keep my head up but the tears just flowed as I listened. I couldn't help it, I felt so pathetic.They asked me if I had anything to say. What could I say? It was there in black and white. For the last 6 years I'd been off sick more than I'd been at work. I felt like a freak. They were very nice about it and they made it clear that it was in no way a disciplinary action and that my ability to do my job and actual performance was never in question. There was never any question that I was excellent at my job but in reality it doesn't make a shits bit of difference wether I was good at my job or not. I feel like I'm now probably unemployable. That's another huge part of my life fucked up.
I'm missing having someone to be intimate with. I know it was right to stop it but I do miss him and I do miss the sex. I don't always feel safe now. I know what I'm like when I get high and sex is on my mind. It frightens me. I really don't want to do it with just anybody. I know I'm going to have to be really careful and stay away from certain people and certain situations. 
I'm probably in the worst shape I've ever been. When I look in the mirror I hate what I see. It's one of the few things I know I can easily do something about. I am trying but it's just so hard to find the motivation. 
I still can't seem to make a clean break from my ex husband. He still messages me and I still reply. He still insists that if I was ever in "that dark place " I could turn to him. He means if I ever wanted to kill myself. He was one of the main reasons why I wanted to do it in the first place so I don't see how that works? 
My medication is still not right. My moods are all over the place. It's just never ending. 
It's coming up to Christmas, which is the worst time of year for me. Too many bad memories. This year has been unbelievably hard and I know I shouldn't wish time away but I really will be glad to see the back of it. I felt exactly the same this time last year and probably the same for the last 6 years. I don't deal with change very well. I know things can't stay the same forever but I just wish for a bit of stability. All I want is to be well and be happy. What I don't want is to upset anyone or cause any problems, which is what I seem to do constantly. I feel like I'm always taking and never giving. I keep telling myself things can't possibly get worse. Surely next year has to be different. 

What a joke....

So according to the report by my psychiatrist I haven't really got a problem at the moment but he still wants me to take more medication?  Maybe he thinks I'm going through some sort of phase. It almost feels like he's taking the piss.

His diagnosis is:
"F31.7 Bipolar Disorder currently in remission
The patient has had one manic, hypomanic or mixed episode in the past and in addition at least one other affective episode of manic, hypomanic, depressive or mixed type but is currently not suffering from any type of significant mood disturbance and has not done so for several months. The patient may however be receiving treatment to reduce the risk of future episodes."

What a joke. Well, yippee. So, according to him I haven't been suffering from anything significant at all! I guess I must have been imagining all the shit I've been going through. I must have imagined that my mood has been all over the place for months. I must have imagined the thousands of pounds I've frittered away on crap. I must have imagined that I've lost my job because of my health. I must have imagined the days on end where I felt so low that I couldn't get out of bed. I must have imagined the nights where I've felt so restless I didn't  go to bed at all. I must have imagined feeling so desperate that I wanted to die. I must have imagined feeling so irritable that even a door shutting made me want to hit someone. I must have imagined people telling me I was "high as a kite" or that they were worried because they could tell by my voice I was so down. I must have imagined feeling so confused that I felt I had to run away. I must have imagined that my entire life has been turned upside down because of my moods.
Well how stupid of me.
Don't get me wrong, I don't want to be labeled with something I haven't got but for fucks sake. This last year has been horrendous.I agree that things have happened that are nothing to do with bipolar. I agree that having a heart attack and having all the problems with my son would challenge anyone's mental state but I don't agree that I haven't suffered because of my moods. I haven't felt right for months. I still don't feel right. I know there's something very wrong. I've said it before, as long as you're not manic or suicidal they don't give a shit about anything in between. He wrote that I spend money to make myself happy...no it doesn't make me happy knowing that I'm probably going to end up broke. He wrote that I live alone but have good neighbours..? No mention that I lost my job because of my sickness record. He wrote that my mood is fluctuating...I know!  He wrote that I sometimes have thoughts of killing myself but that I won't act on it. I don't even know that, so how the fuck does he know? He said I often get angry for no reason. How dare he tell me there's nothing wrong and expect me to take even more medication, when everything is wrong.
I don't even know if bipolar can ever truly be in remission. I always think of remission as symptom free. For me I would think of it as being depression free and hypomania free and all those other horrible in between moods free. I'd think of it as being able to get up in the morning, go to work, come home, cook dinner, have a social life, sleep in my bed. I'd think of it as being able to function properly on a daily basis. I don't know why I feel so cross. I would love to say my bipolar was in remission but I know that's not true right now. Of course I'm not a psychiatrist so I don't really know what the criteria is. What I do know is that sending out reports that are in no way helpful is detrimental to my health.
So, if I'm not suffering from any type of significant mood disturbance then maybe I should just say stuff it and go it alone. Maybe I don't need a psychiatrist. Maybe I don't need a care-coordinator and maybe I don't need handfuls of fucking pills.

So I spoke to my care coordinator about it and she agrees that sometimes what psychiatrists write isn't always obviously helpful but that I'm really getting upset for the wrong reasons. She agrees that my mood is fluctuating rapidly....that's why he increased my meds and why I need to see a psychiatrist and why I have a care coordinator! She said that they follow strict guidelines and the criteria for diagnosing people is set in stone. She explained that what they mean by significant mood disturbances are the very very extremes.  She agreed that he probably missed out some important facts and that he didn't explain things to me very well but that what he wrote was to inform others involved in my care and mainly to ensure my safety. She suggested that maybe it wasn't necessary for me to receive the reports. I don't know about that. She also stressed that she thought it would be very dangerous for me to come off my medication. She couldn't say 100% what would happen but suspects that without it I probably would become very ill and hit one of the extremes. I don't know if I feel better about it. I know things could be a lot worse but I always feel lately that I'm on the very edge of completely losing it. Sometimes I do get myself in a state but it's hard to see things clearly when there aren't always straightforward answers. I just get scared that's all.

When all else fails, go shopping?

I thought I'd better do as the doctor said and increase my medication. I hate it when I have to change meds. It always frightens me. Quetiapine is pretty strong stuff and I always worry about side effects. I don't like the idea of not being in control. I hate the idea of being turned into a zombie. A bit daft really as I really haven't felt in control anyway. I doubt it could make things worse. Well, it's five days in and mentally I am starting to feel a bit better. Some of the time anyway. If anything I've been on a bit of a high, despite all the crap that's going on in my life. I actually feel reasonably happy, which I haven't done for a very long time. Physically I feel like shit. At times I'm so tired it's unbelievable. I'm so tired during the day but wide awake when I'm supposed to be asleep! I'm hoping as my body gets used to it that will pass. I'm hoping that after months and months of my moods being all over the place I'll have some stability. I need it badly. I need to get myself back on track. I need to get organised. I've made a start. Yesterday I sat and went through my finances. It's not great. I don't want to say exactly how much money I've wasted when I've been high and gone on spending sprees. Over the last couple of years it's run into thousands. All on stuff that I was convinced I needed at the time but mostly a load of crap. I don't know what happens but I manage to tell myself there is no problem. I mostly buy clothes but it could be anything. I've got all sorts of weird and wonderful gadgets that are still in the box. I'll buy anything apart from the stuff I really do need...like food. The last time I felt really well I put a fair bit of my money into places where I couldn't get at it. Thank goodness I did or I'm sure by now I'd be totally skint. I don't know why it's so common for people with bipolar to struggle with managing money. I don't know why there are times when I'm compelled to shop and shop for stuff I don't need. I don't always remember doing it. Sometimes I do and I don't really care. I don't even remember if it makes me feel better. It just seems right at the time. Maybe it is a form of self medicating? It frightens me when I'm sorting through what I've bought. I often find two or three of exactly the same item. I find it hard to get to grips with why on earth I would do it. I buy stuff that I'm never ever going to use. I find stuff packed away that I don't even remember buying. Sometimes I give it away just to get it out of my flat. I put at least ten brand new items of clothing into a charity bag this morning. I feel so guilty that I've done it and I wonder how I'm going to manage in the future. When I've been depressed I've missed payments and ignored bills. I've given money away and acted as if I had a never ending supply. When I'm well I am really good with my money, I'm organised and I know where every penny goes. Unfortunately that's not very often. I don't know what the answer is. Unless I let someone else manage my money I doubt there is an answer. I don't think I could ever let anyone do that. When I feel well I'm too strong willed and independent. Unless I cut off my internet so I don't have access to the thousands of opportunities to shop online I think I'm always going to have a problem. I don't have any credit cards anymore, that really is too dangerous. The times I've closed and reopened my eBay and Amazon accounts is unreal. I once spent nearly £4,000 on eBay in less than a week. I was still married then and as I was the one who sorted the finances I managed to hide most of it. Not one item cost more than £30, so you can imagine how many parcels came flooding through the door. That's the trouble, it's all too easy. I guess I have to try and get as organised as I can while my mood allows me and hope for the best. When I got my divorce money it was supposed to set me up for the rest of my life. Small compensation really for 23years of marriage but I guess I should count myself lucky. At least I had some money to start with. In truth I may as well have flushed half of it down the toilet. I'd like to say money is not important but unfortunately it is. I'm on my own, I have no job and I have to look after number one. Fucking bipolar.

What a difference a day makes....

Some people are special. Some people are just extra special. That's how I see my best friends son. At the weekend I spent the day with him, his girlfriend and his best mate. The two guys were doing a gruelling sixteen mile obstacle course, so as well as to cheer them on I went along to keep his girlfriend company watching them. It was a long, long day. The weather was shit and it was cold and muddy but it was the best day I've had in a long time. It was the best day not just because of the event but because of who I spent it with. I felt honoured that they'd let me be a part of something that was so important to them.
I nearly didn't go. The usual reasons.... they probably didn't really want me there, they only asked me because they felt sorry for me, I'd get in the way, I'd probably do or say something to spoil it, they wouldn't really want some stupid old cow cramping their style. All absolute rubbish reasons and just the usual ridiculous stuff that goes on in my head whenever something is going on. They asked me because they wanted me to go. I didn't feel awkward and I didn't feel out of place. All those insecurities just slipped away as the day went on. I just felt "normal" for a change. They all made me feel part of it and not once did I feel like I shouldn't have been there. I felt so happy and so proud seeing them finish the course. I haven't felt so relaxed for a long time. It's funny but spending a day out in the fresh air, watching the determination on peoples faces as they worked so hard to complete the course really helped me to put things into perspective. What a difference a day makes!
My friends son is the same age as my own son. They used to play together when they were little. That's it, that's the only thing they have in common. I know that I can rely on my friends son 100%. I know that he would do anything he possibly could if I was in trouble. I know he really cares and I know he loves me. Whenever I'm ill or something has happened he is always one of the first people to visit or even just text to see if I'm ok. He doesn't treat me any differently because of my bipolar. He listens when I go on about it and is encouraging without being patronising.  He treats me with respect and it's genuine. His girlfriend is the same. She has accepted me unconditionally as part of the family. I love them both very much. I can't say the same about my own son. Of course I love him more than anything. I know he loves me in his own way but I can't make him into something he's not. I have to accept that years of drug taking has made him selfish. I long for the day when he rings me just to see how I am instead of wanting money. I long for the day he rings me up just to say he loves me. I don't ever think it will happen and that really hurts.
Even when everything seems to be falling apart and I'm struggling to make sense of anything, knowing I have the love and support of a few special people really does help. My friend has four sons. They have all helped me in different ways over the years. I am certain that I could turn to any one of them and they would do their best to help. That really is something to be thankful for.
The best thing about it all is that I know my best friend doesn't mind at all that I "borrow"  her family every now and then and that really is special.

I've lost my job

 I've lost my job. The job that less than five months ago was deemed to be perfect for me. The job where after a week they told me it was as if I'd always been there. The job where I was doing so well that they asked me to increase my hours after only four weeks. The job where nobody knew about me being bipolar. The job that was supposed to give me a purpose. None of that seems real now. It's as if it was someone else doing it.
It wasn't my fault I went off sick. They changed my medication and it completely knocked me for six. It's not my fault I'm not ready to go back. It's not my fault that I'm not "stable" enough to return to work. Yet I feel so guilty because I've let so many people down and I feel so stupid that I can't do the job that I'm supposed to be so good at. I feel like a failure.
It will be finalised at a contractual review meeting. A panel will look at my sickness absence record, discuss my health, then terminate my employment. That's it. They are not doing anything wrong. They've followed procedure. If I'm really honest I can understand. Doesn't make me feel any better though.
I don't know what on earth I'm going to do. I've never been unemployed before. I don't know anything else apart from physio. I'm too young never to work again but I have a feeling that at nearly fifty and with a sickness record like mine, my job prospects are hardly going to be that great. I can't afford not to work and I don't even want to think about benefits. I don't think I can do any kind of care work again. The thought of being responsible for anyone else fills me with terror. I need a job with little or no responsibility yet I need something stimulating or I'll just get bored. I don't know if there is such a job. I'm not ready to go back yet so I just have to hope that if I start to feel better it will all become clearer. I don't want to wish time away but if I can just get Christmas out of the way then maybe next year will be a new start.

Psychiatrists know best?

So I decided to come home. A huge part was the fact that I missed my best friend. Talking to her made me realise how important friends are and how ridiculous it is for me to think I can do it all alone. I don't really feel any better for trying to run away but I suppose I have more of a plan of what I need to do to try and get my life back on track. I wrote a list of everything I think I need to do. There's nothing new on there. It's all stuff I've been talking about doing for months anyway. It's all stuff that should be routine. Eat properly, sleep in my bed, exercise, sort out my finances, the list goes on. It's easy to write a list. Not so easy to actually do any of it. Definitely not so easy while my mood is all over the place.
My first priority was to see or contact everyone who means anything to me. I visited my parents . They were blissfully unaware of my meltdown. When I arrived I was shocked to see my son. He was out in their garden cutting all the bushes. He seemed ok. He's been staying with a girlfriend . He showed me a bit of paper from the police station saying he'd had a drugs test and he was opiate free. I didn't ask why he was being drugs tested, I was just relieved at the result. He insists that he hasn't used heroin and I think I believe him.
I've seen my two sisters and my two closest friends.
I've seen most of my "other" family (my best friends family) and I messaged a couple of other friends. So that's everyone taken care of. I don't think I've upset anyone beyond repair. Now I need to sort myself out.
Last night I slept for 12hours solid. I still feel tired.
I'm seeing my psychiatrist tomorrow . It feels like tomorrow is D-Day for me. I have to try and make him see that I'm not right. I can't carry on the way I am. I need him to do something.

Well, that was a waste of time. I saw my psychiatrist. As soon as I arrived I knew it would be a disaster. My care-coordinator couldn't make it and the first thing he said to me was that we needed to get started quickly because he had a lot of people to see....great. He asked me a million and one questions. The usual stuff...... Was I spending lots of money? Did I ever feel superior to other people? Did I get road rage? How many hours do I sleep? Am I taking my medication? Do I ever feel like harming myself?  blah,blah,blah. He told me he wanted to leave my Lithium as it was and up my Quetiapine dose. He then told me that I needed to make sure I occupy my mind! That was it. No explanation as to why he wanted to up my medication, no explanation as to why he thinks I've been feeling and acting the way I have, nothing. I didn't even get the chance to ask him any questions but I made damn sure I called him an idiot as I walked out the door! Probably very rude but made me feel slightly better. I find it hard to put my trust in someone that I actually can't stand. I guess I either have to stuff a few more tablets down and hope for the best or stay as I am and I really don't think I can do that. I don't really know what to do. I probably should go and talk to my GP. I do actually trust him.

Time to go home?

I'm just an attention seeking drama queen. Well I suppose that's quite true in a way. I write these blogs for anyone to read. I do try to be honest and I only write things as I see them but still, maybe I do go on a bit. Maybe I'm hoping someone will pay attention and come and rescue me. I don't necessarily mean a knight in shining armour. I just mean someone who can help me make sense of it all. I'm heading towards fifty and instead of being settled and happy with life all I can see is disaster. I know negativity is a symptom of bipolar. I've made myself aware of the huge array of crappy moods that someone with bipolar might have to endure. It doesn't help. Sometimes it makes it worse, knowing there's always something. I doubt I'll ever feel normal.
I am sitting in a hotel room, miles away from home. I have to leave in half an hour and I still haven't decided what to do. Of course if I'd have done this a few weeks ago when I was high as kite it would have probably been a real adventure. I guess I'm just going to get in the car and see what happens.
I didn't drive far. I've got the worst sense of direction. I drive for miles and end up back in the same place! I ended up in a lovely little seaside town. Rows of beach huts and quaint holiday cottages. I walked along the beach then sat on a rock just staring at the sea. For the first time in weeks I actually felt really calm. I sat there for a good couple of hours. In my head I planned all the things I needed to do if I went home.
When I got back to my car I realised I'd had a missed call from my son. As soon as I rang him back I wished I hadn't . He was angry and on the defensive. He didn't have anywhere to stay, he didn't have any money, his supply of methadone had been cut, he wished he was in prison again, he might as well be back on the heroin. I had to tell him there was nothing I could do. He cut me off. Not once did he ask if I was ok. There really is nothing I can do. I just sat and cried.
Once I'd composed myself I decided to start driving again. When I was watching the sea I thought maybe I should start heading home but now I wanted to get even further away. Everything I'd planned was a joke.
I've ended up in another hotel room. I'm tired and feel like I've got the weight of the world on my shoulders.
I plucked up the courage to ring my best friend. I didn't really need courage. I knew she wouldn't be cross. She was just pleased to hear from me. I still felt really guilty. We chatted for ages. We both came to the conclusion that I haven't been right for a long time now. I haven't had any length of time where I've been really "stable". My moods have been all over the place and even though I haven't hit any real extremes it's just not right. I can't go on like this. I need help. I need help before I end up doing something stupid. I agreed to go and see my doctor when I get home and she agreed to come with me. Talking to her really helped. I'm very lucky to have such a special friend.
I guess that means that tomorrow I should start heading home.

It's not all it's cracked up to be

I didn't run away because I thought it would be exciting, I ran away because I couldn't stomach what I was running away from. My life. I'm sitting in a hotel room, wondering what on earth I should do next. I've spent the day sleeping and reading. I could be doing the same at home but somehow it feels different here. It's so quiet and so peaceful. I don't know what I've been thinking about...nothing and everything. I couldn't tell you what the book I've been reading is all about. I feel like I'm in a completely different world. I keep telling myself it's doing me some good. I don't really know. I do feel guilty that I've ignored people's texts and phone calls but I really don't want to go through trying to explain something that I don't understand myself. I'm staying another night. After that they are fully booked. I don't know what I'll do then. I can't say I'm really enjoying the experience. I'd imagined it would be somehow liberating just getting in the car and taking off. It's not . I have my phone and my iPad so I keep dipping into what everyone else is doing. I've been looking on Facebook and Twitter . Life just goes on wether I'm in it or not. I suddenly feel really insignificant. I did speak to my best friends son. He means the world to me and out of everybody it somehow seemed ok to call him. It was comforting to hear his voice but I honestly can't remember what he said apart from that I am a strong woman. I have spent so much time lately trying to be strong. I don't feel strong right now. I feel like my strength has been drained out of me. I just seem to go from one drama to another and I really have had enough. I have no idea what I'm going to do. I still can't face the thought of going home. I'm starting to feel scared. I feel like I've got myself into a situation that I don't know how to get out of. I really could use a wish right now.

I have to go

I don't know how to explain how I feel right now. I'm not depressed but I'm deeply unhappy. I'm unhappy with myself. Unhappy with how I look, with what I'm doing, with my life in general. I can't think of one thing in my life that really excites me or makes me really happy and I can't think of one thing that would change that. I don't know what I want.
Sometimes I frighten myself with the thoughts that go through my mind. I'm having some really weird thoughts lately. At least I know they're weird so I guess that's one good thing. I can't have completely lost my mind. 
As I take so many tablets I always put them in one of those plastic things with each day of the week on. I never remember to take them otherwise . This morning as I was filling it up I had the urge to just swallow the whole lot at once. Somehow I imagined death would be a better option than the bullshit that's my life at the moment. Obviously I didn't do it. I don't know what stopped me. 
Sometimes when I'm driving I have the urge to just take my hands off the steering wheel and crash into whatever is in front. Obviously I wouldn't do it. 
I don't know why thoughts like that are so often and so vivid. 
I feel so unsettled. I feel like I need to just up and leave. Fuck knows where I would go and fuck knows why I think running away would make any difference. I just feel compelled to pack my bags and go. Something is making me want to go. The feeling is so strong. I feel like I'm being suffocated here. Sometimes when I think about it I actually end up gasping for breath.
So I did pack my bag and go. I'm now sitting in a hotel room. I've got no idea where I am. Last night I drove round and round  for nearly five hours. I wouldn't mind but I kept ending up back in the same place. See, I can't even run away properly. By rights I should have been in Scotland by now. Instead I think I'm somewhere near Gt Yarmouth . I stopped at a few places to stay but everywhere was full up. I finally managed to find somewhere and that's where I am now. It's nice. I slept so soundly, better than I have done for ages. Probably because I'd worn myself out. Now I don't really know what to do. All I know is that I'm not ready to go home. 

Banging my head against a brick wall

I can't be responsible for someone else's actions, can I? I am a mother and as a mother I will always feel partly responsible for what my son does even though he's not a child anymore but I can't tell him what to do. So why do I feel like it's my fault, the fact that he's fucked up again. He was doing so well. Everyone said so. The truth is he wasn't doing so well and I should have realised it. I knew it was too good to be true for him to stay drug free after years of being an addict. I should have insisted he had some sort of professional help. No one can be addicted to heroin for years and be expected to cope in the real world without proper help.
My sister rang to say they'd found prescriptions for methadone in his room. They weren't in his name. He obviously couldn't manage without and has been buying the stuff. My first thought was that he must be back on the heroin. So he's let everyone down and lied to everybody again. Why am I not surprised? He's now broken the trust of everyone who has bent over backwards to try and help him. My sister and her husband won't have him to stay at theirs now, no matter what he does....and I can't blame them. He's going to end up homeless again and I know what that means. If he's not using heroin now then it's only a matter of time before he does. If he's homeless he'll seek help from the very people he needs to stay away from, the dealers and other addicts.
I've managed to talk to him once. He's blaming everyone but himself. He swears he hasn't used heroin. He says he was under so much pressure to get off the methadone quickly, start work and prove himself that he felt he couldn't tell anyone or ask for help. He said he couldn't cope with his moods and methadone was the only relief. I feel sure that he has some sort of mood disorder, like me. Maybe bipolar, maybe not. I've tried before to get him assessed but it's impossible while he's still using. I'm sure he's self medicating but it's a vicious circle. How do they differentiate between mental health and substance abuse and how one thing affects the other? I do feel for him. I know what it's like to have everyone thinking you're fine and telling you how well you're doing, when really you're in bits. I can understand why he kept it all to himself but at the same time he should have been man enough to talk to people.
I haven't been able to contact him again. I have no idea if he is ok. I don't know what to do. I don't know if there is anything I can do. I feel like I'm banging my head against a brick wall. I feel helpless. I just want him to be alright.

Am I bipolar or am I just lazy?

All I seem to be saying to myself at the moment is "I don't know and I don't really care". Probably because I really don't ....know that is. I like to think I still care. I'm in a bit of a mess but I don't have a clue what to do about it. I don't feel that bad, I just don't really feel anything. I don't feel particularly depressed and I'm certainly not manic. I don't know what I am. I can't seem to get myself motivated. I feel tired during the day and wide awake at night. I feel like I need a really good cry or a really good laugh but I can't even do that. Nothing really excites me or gets me going at the moment. I hate to say it but I'm bored and I can't think of anything I'd like to do that would alleviate the boredom. I have snippets of a more upbeat mood where I imagine a whole host of things I'm going to do but when it boils down to it, it's as much as I can do to get up in the morning. I feel like I'm stuck in the middle of nowhere. It probably seems like I'm being nothing more than lazy. I worry that it's me and I'm just a useless lazy person but I know deep down it's not like that. I'm not a naturally sedentary person. I'm not naturally apathetic and unsociable. When I'm really well I have a zest for life. My mood at the moment definitely isn't the norm for me. I guess to say that bipolar has only two moods (manic and depressed) is very misleading. There are a whole range of moods and right now I'm somewhere in there, just not sure where! I guess I have to take each day as it comes, try to have a least one thing planned every day and hope for the best.

"People Like You"

I was diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder three years ago. Four years after I first sought help. Seeking help when you don't know what's wrong and when you're scared and completely desperate is hard. I think we all expect people in the medical profession to have empathy and be free from prejudice. We put our trust in them because we believe they are experts, so when they don't come across how we expect it's even more difficult. I remember very clearly the first time I went to see a GP because I felt so bad. I remember it clearly for the wrong reasons. I knew I was depressed. As I tried desperately to tell him what was wrong he looked at me and said "I'll prescribe you Prozac.Thousands of people take it, it's very safe. You have to remember how old you are. You're getting close to the menopause. Are you sure you're not just having a Shirley Valentine moment?" I took the prescription and ran out crying. He left me feeling like I was just some silly woman having a mid life crisis. I doubt he even realised the impact of his words. He obviously thought I'd see the joke. I didn't. It turned out Prozac wasn't safe at all for me. It kick started hypomania and then a mixed episode that lasted for months. I changed my GP but it took me a long time to feel ok about going to the doctors. A few careless words at the wrong time can have a huge impact.
I always find going to see my psychiatrist a challenge. Depending what frame of mind I'm in, I'm either ready to cling on to every word he says, because he knows everything or I'm ready to argue with whatever he says because he knows nothing! Of course there are several scenarios in between. My usual psychiatrist, who I had a good relationship with and trusted, sadly died. It wasn't a surprise as he'd been ill for a long time. One of his replacements left me feeling angry and upset with his words. He'd explained to me why he wanted to leave my medication as it was, which was fine but then he came out with " of course people like you need to be extra careful about how you behave". What was that supposed to mean?
Maybe if I'd been in a different frame of mind I wouldn't have reacted so badly to their words, but I wasn't and I did react. I'm sure that any good doctor would be horrified if they thought they'd upset a patient with their words but I'm sure it happens all the time.
Thankfully I now have a fantastic GP, who is very knowledgable about my condition and who treats me with respect.

And the point is?

I feel like I've just stepped off of the biggest, fastest, scariest ride at the funfair. My head is still spinning and I'm stumbling a bit, trying to get myself back down to earth. I got a thrill from the ride but I hated it at the same time. Now I have a sense of nothingness. Not good, not bad , just nothing. That's how I feel about my life at the moment. I don't know where to go next. 
Sometimes this type of mood is the worst. It's like being in a relationship where you don't know where you stand.
When I've been unwell I tend to bury my head in the sand. I tend to ignore things in the hope that they'll just disappear. I need to take stock and start sorting my life out. Instead I'm sitting in bed at midday, faffing about on my iPad . I can't be bothered to get dressed. What's the point? I haven't got anything in particular to do. I haven't got any concrete plans for the next few days.
Of course I have everything to do.
I haven't been proper shopping for weeks. Well, only for things I don't need. My food shopping has consisted of coffee and milk. The essentials! If it wasn't for my neighbour and the odd meal out I doubt I'd eat at all. It's not because I'm not hungry or I'm trying to diet, it's because I can't be bothered. I have a huge pile of paperwork, letters from work, letters from the bank. I don't know, there's loads of it. I'm too scared to look because I know my finances are in a complete mess. I know my spending has been out of control and I know I'm going to get a shock when I do try to sort it. I really don't want the bother of all that right now. I made a huge fuss about being allowed to go back to the gym and got a GP referral . I went to the induction and haven't been back since. I do actually want to go, I just can't bring myself to do it. It's too much effort right now. I've just realised my car MOT is out of date by over a month.Work is the most important thing I need to sort out. I may have lost my job,well I know I'm going to lose my job, yet I cannot even think about it. I have a complete mental block when it comes to decisions about work. I just don't want to know about it yet. 
Sometimes I wish someone would come along and take care of everything. Of course that's never going to happen. It's one of the scariest feelings coming to the conclusion that I'm the only person that can help myself. 
I don't mean to be so apathetic. I do care deep down, I'm just having trouble getting motivated right now. I feel like I'm up and down like a yo yo at the moment. If I thought for one minute that one mighty kick up the backside would help, then I'd be first in the queue. Somehow I think I'll just have to wait until my mood settles or something big happens to shock me into life. 

Love or guilt?

My ex husband told me recently that he thought because I'm an intelligent woman I should have been able to realise what was going on with my health and deal with it. How ignorant can someone be? Even after all this time, he just doesn't get it. It makes me mad. He thinks its my fault for being ill. Yes I am an intelligent woman but at the time when I was first really ill I had no idea what was going on and couldn't possibly deal with it. All I could do was go along with what the doctors said. It's taken years for me to be able to recognise my symptoms and try to deal with them. God, he's such an arse at times. 

I agree that if someone has an illness they should try to be as informed as possible but ffs, if your in the middle of a heart attack you're hardly going to be thinking about what you're going to choose as the healthy option for your tea. Same with bipolar. If you're  in a deep depression and can't even get out of bed , how can you even think about going to the gym or going to work? Would be a piece of cake if it was that easy. 

I feel sorry for the fact that he's so blinkered. He either wants to blame me because he feels guilty or he really is thick. He thinks that because he sees me happy and managing things now ( on the surface), that I'm somehow cured. He wants to believe it anyway. I think if there was a cure for bipolar and I could get it, he would want me back. Until then I'm damaged goods. He still loves me but I'll never quite come up to scratch.

It's all starting again. The emails wanting to know how I am. The little hints at how he misses me and still cares for me. I don't doubt he means it but what is he playing at? We've been split for nearly three years and he still wants to be a part of my life. He's looking out for a car for me at the moment. I don't understand why he still wants to get involved. The stupid thing is that I'm letting him do it. I just can't seem to bring myself to tell him to fuck off. I should tell him to butt out and leave me alone but I can't. I don't need him in my life. There's nothing he can do that I can't do for myself. I am quite capable of finding a bloody car. Part of me feels flattered that I obviously still have some sort of hold over him and part of me feels comforted by the fact that he's still there.  There's absolutely no reason why we need to stay in contact yet neither of us can make that final break. I bet she doesn't know what he's doing. That makes me feel a bit smug. 

We have completely different lives now. I have no clue what he gets up to and vice versa yet we have this strange grey area where we come together and it's still as if we're married. A small part of me still misses what we had and I don't want to cut him out completely. I don't want to admit it but I like to know he's doing ok. 

Maybe we will always be friends but there's more to it. I feel it's a bit like playing with fire....just not sure who's going to get burnt. Probably both of us.