bounce

First I was bad. Then I was great. Now I'm just in limbo. And by that I don't mean the fun game played with a broomstick. I mean that awful nothing state, where the slightest push can send me rocketing either way. It's like being on the crest of a rollercoaster and knowing that the plummet to darkness is just a millimetre away. I feel like if I try hard enough I will be able to get the happy place back.

The three day Ignite Your Life course was amazing. It inspired me, and challenged me, and since then I've been feeling more positive and worthwhile and able to change. I've been less depressed, not at all suicidal and had more energy. Until... Until. Until. Until. There's always an "until" isn't there? Or an "and then/but then". I'm so grateful for the two and a half weeks of strength and sanity but WHY does it have to end? Monday morning dawned and my old friend lethargy was back, with apathy and self-loathing not far behind. Of course I could have, and should have, used the strategies I learned in the course to change my mental state and try to motivate myself... Instead I spent the next two days in bed feeling the old depression envelop me. I guess I felt comforted in some way, it's easier to slip back into old patterns than try to develop new ones, right?

I'm frustrated that I am not "cured".

I know that it's impossible, but I still kind of wanted it.

Even though I am the first to tell people you need to work hard at recovery and illness management, in the end I am a lazy SOB who wanted an easy way out.

The teachers I met at Ignite Your Life would say I'm using the mental illness, depression, suicide "game" to try and gain attention, connection with others, and self-worth. They're right, because while I definitely have mental illness, it's my choice how that illness manifests itself and how far I let it take hold of my life. I definitely had a choice Monday morning and I made the choice to remain trapped in the depression cycle.

All I can do now is try to switch my mental state and embrace happy, energising, positive thoughts. Which might be (IS!) tiring, but is certainly within my capabilities. I'll let you know how it goes :-D

all the small things

Here's a Cat Versus Human comic I had to share, as it emphasises to me why a lot of us mentally interesting folk love our kittehs and goggies (dogs for those of you unfamiliar with LOLcat lingo!).

My cat Charly is usually in two minds about my depression. She HATES me crying and sniffling but she loves to lay in bed with me for hours. Regardless, there is no doubt she makes me feel better most of the time. For this one of her middle names is "Prozac" (full name Charly Louise Feral Beryl Prozac S). I know I'm not alone, as I've read other bloggers comments on their pets and how beneficial they are to our mental health.

This is one of those "Gratitude" posts I'm trying out, and at the top of my list of things to be thankful for is animals -particularly cats. Here's some other stuff to be going on with...

REASONS TO SMILE

1. Animals, esp cats. And especially those viral videos I get sent like the one with the owl and the kitten playing, and the mama cat comforting the kitten who had a nightmare. Could those things get any cuter???

2. Buffy. We finished our seven season marathon, and as always I cried at the end. The girl power, all women are slayers, theme is just awesome. I wish I was as kick arse as Buffy and Willow!

3. Movies. My favourite past-time. I saw X Men First Class and it rocked!! Though disappointing that the female mutants were evil )-: I like Storm from the other movies, but she didn't make an appearance.

4. Neil. I'm the luckiest woman in the world, I swear. He is patient and kind and decent. And a hunk of spunk (Aussie slang for a hottie LOL).

5. No Doz (caffiene tablets). Thank you for keeping me alert and awake at work!!

6. Roller Derby. It's brilliant! We're going again on the day before my birthday - 18 June. Great present, huh?! Those women are so tough and cool!

7. My boss Jan (he's a man, it's pronounced "Yarn" - Polish origin). Even though I have had so many sick days lately, he's supportive and understanding. I never worry about calling him, I know he'll be ok and not make me feel guilty or lazy. He doesn't know about the mental illness, but I believe he would be okay with that too.

8. The Madosphere. I love my blogger friends, and learn new things and feel new things every day from your terrific writing. Keep it up guys!

I have some challenges in my life at the moment (having the flu on top of lupus, anaemia, etc, is not fun) but I'm glad I took the time to note some positives. I think I should write down some of this stuff and read it every morning when I wake up, because it's getting harder and harder to motivate myself to get the hell out of bed. Brain = fizzy, body = shaky but I am still fighting y'all!

we wear our bruises like watermarks

Thank you so much to be darling friends for your comments previously. I wish I could say things have improved. They are made markedly worse, at the least complicated, by the re-appearance of my lupus in a hideous whole body flare that threatens to render me inert. (FYI - Lupus, or Systemic Lupus Eurythematosus is an autoimmune disorder, whereby the body's immune system attacks itself, eg: organs, joints, skin, rather than attacking external threats like bacteria or viruses. It's usually hereditary and incurable).

I'm not foolish enough to gloss over the connection...mind/body medicine is one of the things that cured my fibromyalgia (kind of similar to chronic fatigue and sometimes connected with lupus) and helped control my lupus, so I know that what I think and feel is reflected in my physical wellbeing. The fact that I've been struggling with some emotional issues has left me fatigued and rundown, and a perfect target for a lupus flare. So far it has shown up as joint pain (particularly my hands and right knee), constant nausea and neck pain. I'm lucky, in that my degree of lupus is very mild (so far). I am medicated for it, which helps, and thus far my autoimmune system hasn't attacked any serious organs. I know people who have kidney and liver or heart disease from lupus, and people who have lost eyesight and mobility. My paternal grandmother died because of it.

Anyway. I am now feeling even sorrier for myself, and struggling even more to maintain a positive outlook. I am even tireder than I was when my problems were "just" mental/emotional. The way I beat fibromyalgia and controlled my lupus in 2005 when I was first diagnosed was through fairly strict mind/body medicine - predominantly meditation and diet, as well as the medication.

I just don't think I have the energy it will take to get well again.

Last time I was ill, my mental state was strong, I was in (what seemed then to be) a supportive marriage, I was barely working in a casual job. Basically, I had a lot in the positives column. Now...it seems like things were just starting to take shape for me in my new work/home, and BANG, life throws me a curve ball. Ain't it always the way.

Neil is even more concerned than before, now I'm even more bedridden and exhausted and complaining. I have to make an appointment to see my specialist and find out if my medication needs changing. There really is only one medication for lupus (Plaquenil) but maybe I need more, or something new might have become available. I was so complacent and cocky... I thought I had the lupus whipped.

My mental state has kind of taken a back seat at the moment. I'm feeling okay, coping mostly with work and getting on well with my adorable man. Big picture is kind of blurry. Finer points are kind of rough round the edges. I haven't felt BPD-ish for quite some time, which is mostly (I think) due to the basic CBT/DBT I have ingrained in me, as well as the medication and a strong relationship based on honesty and boundaries. But the scary part is, I feel like I may be slowly unravelling. If I have lost control of my physical health, is my mind the next thing to go??

Title from Perth band Birds of Tokyo's song "Plans".

Childless Women - Lacking An Essential Humanity??

I found a link to this really interesting and thought-provoking exhibition on a blog I follow Edge of Everywhere. Moved by the negative reactions to her and other women’s decisions not to have children, Miriam Schaer embroidered real quotes onto white baby dresses with red thread, creating a shocking visual representation of the societal prejudice against childless women.

View the exhibit online

The artist writes:

“Selfish… Neurotic… Irresponsible… Immature… Unfeminine… Unfulfilling… Materialistic… Uptight… Deviant” — all words I have heard to characterize my decision to not have children, a decision transforming me into a target of one of society’s remaining and widely held prejudices.

Baby (Not) on Board: The Last Prejudice?, addresses the question of why the existence of women who choose maternal independence over child-rearing angers or offends so many people and institutions. The work presented here is part of a continuing exploration of our culture’s pejorative views about women without kids. For Baby (Not) on Board: The Last Prejudice?, I hand-embroidered representative negative comments on baby dresses using red thread to create scarlet letters. Gathered from interviews with childless women, online research, and personal experience, the statements taunt and accuse, and are typical of an endless flow of critical statements that seem to be growing bolder even as non-traditional families are gaining greater acceptance.

These pictures really touched me, as a woman who for most of her life has been uninterested in having children. I've most definitely had that decision questioned, sometimes almost vilified, even though I have the "excuse" of being physically unable to easily bear children and probably having to have had IVF or similar if I had been keen on having children. I just have so many reasons why kids can't and won't be a part of my life, not the least because of my mental illness. I have nieces and nephews I adore, but in general I find children uninteresting and irrelevant to me and my life. Why is this so horrifying to people?

almost didn't notice the roses

It seems like 2010 is shaping up to be a strange and wonderful year. Bring it on, I say! Christmas was a bit of a challenge, mostly because of my grandmother staying with us. She went into care at a nursing home a month ago and came out for a couple of days over Christmas. Although the place we chose for her is top-notch in many ways, with million dollar views over the city and river and the highest patient-staff ratio in the city, she continually complains about being unhappy. I'm not sure what she expects from us, we cared for her as well as we could, for as long as we could (five years) and now her health has deteriorated to the point where she needs professional care. But she seems to think we moved her into care for our own amusement, or from spite. And perhaps believes if she complains and snivels enough we will move her back home. None of these things are true. In the end, I am ashamed to admit I was pleased to come back here to my own new home, and drop her off at hers, and lalalala try to pretend none of it was happening. Being back at my parents' place was okay, but overall it made me happy I am here in my rockin' duplex with Michelle.

Michelle is a joy, she's literally one of the funniest people I have ever met and we entertain ourselves for hours making up songs, shouting random witticisms at each other, and contemplating life. We're planning on having a kick-ass year, including a massive costume bash for my 40th birthday in June. The other day we bought Singstar for PS2 on ebay and plan to harrass our neighbours with our tuneless fun hahaha.

Another area of life that's surprising me is my social uprising. I decided that I wanted to put myself out there a bit, and perhaps meet some new friends, so I signed up to an internet dating site - yikes!! It's a good site, and more detailed and meaningful in its profiles, so I'm seeing some high quality matches, which is nice. I hold out much hope for 2010! At the very least I am going to have some new friends to invite to my party :D

I am still on a month's vacation from work, so am borrowing Michelle's laptop to access the internet - so if it seems I am not around the blogosphere so much, then that's the reason. I am still trying to keep up with everyone, even if I don't get the chance to comment!

Previous blog title is from an Iron & Wine song, today's courtesy of Taylor Swift's Our Song

drawn to those ones that ain't afraid

I'm really not good with change. One of the precursors, perhaps even catalysts, to my last psychotic break was shifting offices - the entire company moved across town to a newer, fancier office space which was my very idea of hideousness. Our old building was opposite a park, walking distance to the comfort of retail outlets and various cafes, and the office layout was cubicle style. I shared my cubicle with people I almost-liked. Then we moved to a street shared with a brothel and a methadone clinic where our entire company was set out over one huge floor, in open-plan setting, and my desk was adjacent to a couple of the loudest, most irritating telephonists and also near enough that I could overhear every critical comment directed at me from the woman known as the Notorious B.I.T.C.H. My paranoia, OCD, introversion, hysteria and the like escalated to the point that within a month I could no longer do my job and was put on medical leave (never to return).

I guess my point is that I need to make sure I'm doing okay with this new massive change in my life. Loneliness and abstract terror aside, am I managing to readjust and get in to some kind of groove? On the plus side, I am in good therapy now and have working medication (unlike prior to my breakdown when the huge dose of sertraline I was taking was making things worse rather than better). On the negative, I don't really have any stability in other areas of my life - although I've been at my job for 7 months now (can you believe how fast time passes??) I still feel like most people there consider me at worst a destructive influence, at best a hard-working annoyance. I'm determined to work at it, and stay there, because it's proving to be a great way to work through some of my Borderline issues and tendencies. But it's not the most comforting place to be and consequently I'm in a state of unease (disease? lol) at home as well as at work.

Knowing all this, and being self-aware and mindful (love that DBT), I believe I can claw my way to a state of security and calm. In some ways, the odds are probably against it, but one thing the odds don't take into account is my sheer bloody-mindedness haha!! I swear, that is more powerful than any medication or therapy for getting me through hell and high water. I simply refuse to let my illness, other people, fate, Satan, or what-ever beat me down. Dylan Thomas would say "rage, rage against the dying of the light", P!nk would say "don't let me get me". I like to quote the game show and shout NO DEAL.

heaven in my hurricane

This is a photograph of my brain. No cabbages, no obvious lesions, but as I have just the scans and no report, we'll have to wait and see. I have an appointment with Dr A on Monday, and the radiology clinic have faxed the report to him. During the MRI there were no audible screams of horror, or ironic chuckling, but due to my muffler-headphones and the extreme noise of the blasted machine I would probably not have heard them anyway. Nobody told me that the MRI machine would sound like putting your head in a washer/dryer. If I hadn't had a headache for the previous 3 months I would definitely have come out with one lol. It was also the most claustrophobic, anxiety-inducing experience I've had in some time... I think it's similar to my opinion of childbirth -- no-one tells you quite how horrifying it is because then no-one would ever go through it!

One of the reasons I found it so difficult was the choice of location. Seven years ago Mr Ex and I endured 6 months of stressful, painful, embarrassing, intrusive and ultimately unsuccessful fertility treatment in that very same hospital. Before yesterday's scan I had coffee in the same coffee shop where Mr Ex and I sometimes sat after various tests, phrases like "hostile mucus" and "deceased sperm" running through our heads. After my scan I used the same bathroom I sat and cried in after one or another sad meeting in which our treatment nurse Janet, or an offsider, shared the inevitable bad news of another failure. It brought back so many memories I thought I'd forgotten, or driven away with my determination to be sexily un-child-ed. But the soul doesn't forget, and the cellular memory pushed me hard in the back towards the edge yesterday...

Glad it's over. I'm not surprised my brain showed a lack of obviously-fatal tumour-shaped objects. I should be so lucky. I told my friend Michelle that I was possibly one of the few patients they had in the clinic who would have been disappointed to be NOT dying. Having a terminal illness would just put an end to all this irritating and exhausting business of living and trying and working on being well. I know, I know, I know. It's not funny. We've all lost people we love, good and special people, to tumours, cancers, lesions...But I'd be lying if I denied that a sick and twisted part of me has always hoped that there would be a denouement to my life that would render me worthwhile and purposeful.

Sadly, unless the report tells me something I couldn't find by comparing my MRI scans to Google Images of "brain lesions", it seems I must continue to find purpose in living rather than dignity in dying.

I spent some time with my oldest friend Samantha today, and her baby daughter Sierra (whom I call my niece). Here she is in all her cuddlesome glory:

Even jaded old me had to admit that life seemed to have more oomph to it when she was nearby, even though I'm sadly not the slightest bit clucky or maternal. I really have made peace with being child-free (I refuse to say child-less as if I am less of a person, less of a woman because my body won't work in certain ways). I'm thrilled and blessed to consider Sam's three kids as my nephews and niece, and perhaps one day my perennial bachelor brother will settle down and make me a genuine blood aunty! Sometimes I wonder if being a mother would have made a difference, would have somehow filled part of the gaping hole in my heart. Being back in that hospital this week certainly made me wonder at the paths we take in life, and those that we're forced down through circumstance. In the end, though, I guess where we end up is where we're supposed to be. How would Jon Kabat-Zinn describe it - "Wherever you go, there you are?" Yep, ain't that the kicker.

(NB: Today's title from P!nk "The One That Got Away")

not somebody who's seen the light

Sometimes I like to do Sudoku puzzles. I always carefully write the answers in pencil, so I can rub them out and start over, but every now and again I just can't solve it and the puzzle ends up illegible - scratched and rubbed raw. No matter how many times I try to erase and rewrite the answers, there are the odd Sudoku puzzles I just have to accept as failures. Draw a line through. Either throw them away, or turn the page and start a new one.

What if a life is like that? Are there a finite number of ways in which I can try to make things work? What if next time I try to reimagine myself and start things over, it's just too late? Maybe the bare bones of my life are so fragile and patched up that I need to draw a line through it and start a new one?

These are the things I think about.

(title from Hallelujah, all versions I think, but my favourite is Leonard Cohen's original)

The Trouble With Love

I've decided the trouble with love is that its a finite resource. Much like gold or copper, once its gone, all that's left behind is a dry and barren landscape which is good for nothing. Today I was thinking about all the great passion in my life, for boys mostly but also for "obsessions" (some ppl call them hobbies lol), and how that passion is so closely linked to my illness that I doubt I will ever "go there" again. I just couldn't trust myself to feel that extreme and still remain emotionally in control...yet I don't know how else to be when I am involved with someone or something new.

So I'm left with the feeling that while I may have a productive and sane life for the next 40 years, I doubt whether I will ever feel that grand love. I've spent the first half of my life being crazy for things...crazy for boy X,Y or Z, for girl A, or for Dawson's Creek/Barbies/Scrapbooking. Then I was just plan ole crazy. And now, I'm not crazy, I'm mostly stable and sane, but that seems to come at the price of losing the passion. Or at the very least curbing it.

I do think it's a step forward, to grow up and away from all-consuming hyperattachments, crushes and obsessions. But I think I will always miss that mania. This time last year, every breath was pure adrenalin and excitement. I longed to go to work to interact with Lewis, and to feel hilarious and gorgeous and fabulous. There was always that emptiness underneath, though, which is the nasty worm in the Borderline apple. While I may not scale the dizzying heights of lust and passion, these days I can sit safely in my own skin for long moments at a time without wanting to rip myself apart. It has to be a good thing.

"Star" Of The Week

In case the cheerleader didn't give it away - I got the job! My dream job, helping out with events and admin for a literacy charity, starts on Tuesday and I couldn't be more thrilled. In contrast to my last ill-fated new job, which I was dreading and felt nervous about, I can't wait to get started at DF. I went there today to sign the paperwork and meet everyone -- the clincher for me is that there are no men working there! As much as I love blokes (love them too much, to my detriment haha), I think that having them in my workplace has been a major distraction for me. No doubt I will be lamenting their absence soon!! When I get bored and cast my eyes around the office for some eye candy...

Although it sounds trite, I have been desperately wanting a job that gave something back to the community. It's something I've talked about to my friends and family for the last year, and this opportunity is wonderful. I love reading, am passionate about it, and helping people to read is a dream come true. Also, the job will use my wide range of skills - unlike other jobs I've had which focused more on either PR/marketing or office admin, this one has both aspects. I'm excited for the first time in months.

Last night I picked up my birthday present (a month early!), which was my new ten pin bowling ball.

It may be a coincidence but the first frame I bowled was 60 pins over average (which qualifies for a Star of The Week Certificate lol). I've only been bowling since January but I truly love it, even at my lowest points this year I've managed to get to league and smile and have fun. I owe my friend Michelle EVERYTHING for introducing me to ten pin - our team is called No Deal and we have heaps of goofy sayings and signals. Crazy, but fun. My parents and Mr Ex clubbed together to buy my new ball - they rock! I've named her "Pinky".

So all in all, a great couple of days. I'm hoping to get to the gym tomorrow and do some grocery shopping. Looking after the family is tricky, but I'm finding organisation helps (menu planning, timetables, etc!!) Two adults (plus me), four cats and a dog are all being fed and medicated correctly and on time. In some ways, I'm finding having the extra responsibility is a good motivator. If I don't drag my arse out of bed and cook dinner then everyone goes hungry, not just me. Mum called and she is having a terrific time, which is great - I'm so happy I managed to keep it together long enough for her to feel she could leave us all without me cracking up. If she'd missed out on this trip because of my illness I would have been devastated. I hope she brings me back something cool from Laos! I collect snow globes but somehow I don't think they have a lot of those in the Golden Triangle...

Layered, As An Onion

Sometimes it feels like I am shuffling deck chairs on the Titanic (as they say). Or maybe I'm building a particularly precarious matchstick bridge over this raging torrent I call the River Crazy. As I posted yesterday, I constantly question the point of planning, of having ideas and making choices. What if, what if, what if. Nonetheless, I went to an interview yesterday for a job so exqusitively perfect for me it should be framed and hung on the wall in order for it never to tarnish or disappoint. Three days a week - exactly what I think will work best for me financially and logistically. With a not-for-profit organisation, specialising in literacy. Great team of women, laidback office, interesting and varied work. There were 6 of us on the shortlist, and I will find out one way or another by the middle of next week. Don't you just love that expression "one way or another"... such an innocuous way to describe the beginning or the end, the heaven or the hell of things.

Mr Ex took me to the interview, as he is on holidays and a genuinely decent bloke. The office is located a fair way away, but for 3 days a week I can manage the bus trips. Having a lift there and back for the interview was terrific, and we spent a bit of time together afterwards. In a few days it will be one year since I decided I had to put the dying marriage out of its misery, in order to salvage some happiness for Mr Ex (and maybe, myself). I can see he is more himself again, and that rips at me more than anything. I always believed I was a person who added to situations, to people, rather than took away. But although Mr Ex will say I was everything to him, and brought so much to his life, I would be an idiot to not recognise the path I took him on was nothing he would have chosen or imagined for himself. Still, I made the hard choice for both of us when he was too stuck and too afraid to make it, and every piece of serenity he's gained since then reassures me that it was the right thing. For a while, I wondered if he would fight to get me back, or try to convince me we should try again. But a year later, it hurts me to look him full in the face and realise he is scared that I will ask for another chance.

I blamed so many issues for my marriage problems, and told myself I was leaving to pursue a lot of different things for myself. I have achieved none of them, and now I realise that I was telling myself stories of an exciting and passionate life full of truth in order to disguise the facts... I knew a breakdown was coming, and I could not survive it for both of us. I had to know that Mr Ex was relinquished of responsibility this time, so that I could avoid the crippling guilt and the temptation to fake my way out of it. He was, and is, my best friend, even if we were never ideal marriage partners, the friendship is still there. And this year I have been overwhelmingly relieved that his involvement with this breakdown was limited, and that he could get on with his life without the mental wife hiding in the closet.

Being alone is also the only way I will be able to fight my way back from this illness, knowing myself and my behaviour as well as I do. There are so many layers to my Crazy, like an onion I peel back one only to find another and another. There are scary times ahead, as I start to realise some of the truth at the centre of the layers. But this time I can't just put the layers back together hoping no-one will notice the weeping cracks. This is one time when it HAS to be all or nothing.

Things I Know To Be True

1. The two times I tried to kill myself (as in moved past the "screw this, I want to die" phase, into the counting and swallowing pills phase), the repercussions and physical after-effects were exhaustingly prohibitive.
2. If there was a legal, non-painful method of suicide, like voluntary euthanasia for the mentally strapped, I would have chosen it.
3. If it wasn't for logisitical concerns about my cats, and the aforementioned after-effects of overdose, I might still have chosen a non-legal, painful method.
4. Given points one through three, and given that I'm still here and still showing some semblance of fight, maybe I need to accept that I'm still here

By that I mean, trying to make some plans and encourage the tiny unfurlingness of dreams. After all, I would hate to think I stuck around in this life just to exist in a mechanical stupor with no big picture. You know??