is this a hickey or a bruise???

I'm completely in love with Katy Perry's new song "Last Friday Night", which is where the title of today's post comes from. One of the other things I love most about the gorgeous Katy is this..

I want, I want, I want! Her new perfume is just the bomb. Luckily my birthday is next month and I've been dropping major hints to Neil haha.

While on the subject of cats, I totally love the new comic from Yasmin at Cat Versus Human:

This is EXACTLY how my friends react to my cat-fluff-laden house and clothes. But what can I say, I love Charly to pieces and if she wants to sit on my best sweater or sleep on my pillows, she is more than welcome! Thank heaven I found a man who loves animals just as much as I do!

Things with me are going okay. Still exhuasted and nauseous, I have an appointment with my GP this afternoon to find out the results of my blood tests. Am going to get an appointment with Dr Paul, my lupus specialist, in the next month or so (hopefully) to see if this is a lupus flare or something else. I had a great weekend, though, mainly because of the Eurovision Song Contest, which regular readers will remember me raving about last year. I just love it, lots of Australians watch it each year even though we're clearly NOT part of Europe LOL. It's kitsch, quirky and in bad taste sometimes, but some of the music is awesome and I love learning bits and pieces about other countries. This year's winner was Azerbaijan, who were one of my top 5 acts. Neil looked up Azerbaijan on wikipedia after the win and we learnt all about their independence from the former USSR, and that the capital is Baku and the population is approx 9 million. It's a Muslim country, and they were the first Muslim country to initiate voting for women (in around 1918, so years before the US or UK!). We're such a romantic couple, laying in bed googling hahahahaha.

Thanks for everyone's support over the last few low-mood posts. I'm so grateful for this blog, and the blogs of my friends, which help keep me moderately sane! I'm also grateful for my readers, of whom I now have 103!! Thank you for reading, commenting, emailing (-:

Things I love just now...

* Cats

* Neil

* Coffee

* Blogs

* Survivor's Boston Rob - bless his heart xx

* Adele's CDs 19 and 21 (anyone who hasn't heard her, look for her Brit Music Awards performance on youtube, it's just amazing)

* Buffy

how many times could you have blown a kiss...

...but instead you swung your fist? My favourite band at the moment are The View, and that line is from their song "Beautiful". I like that line because it sums up how much of life is choice, and how much choice affects our self-esteem. I am trying to be more positive this week, in an attempt to re-wire my mind/body connection and perhaps feel healthier. Wish me luck!

In the spirit of such things, I am copying some of my favourite bloggers (Sarah at This Lunatic Express and D'Arty at Living In Iowa as well as the fabulous Wandering Coyote) and writing a post about the positive things in my life. It may end up being short haha! But it's something I don't "do", and should. I am grateful for a lot, and need to focus on that rather than feeling sorry for myself. So here goes.

• My relationship with my angel Neil is healthy, and happy, and he's a damn fine bloke. I'm lucky!



• Biological Family continues to be a positive experience, after many years of the opposite. My mum is finally in therapy, which is great for her but also the rest of us (-:



• We recently got a new addition to the family, Roxy - an 18 month old cat who belongs to Neil's son Jarrad but is equally loved by all of us. Except my cat Charly, who is not one to play well with others... Here's Roxy...

• My ten pin bowling team No Deal are placed second in our league, and considering we are an all-girl team that's pretty awesome! Traditionally men bowl better than women, apparently. Blah.



• Michelle (my former housemate) and I have tickets to the Roller Derby on May 21st which will be freakin' wicked!!



• I no longer have to take valium regularly to survive work, even though I'm working fulltime. It's a fairly dull job, but worthwhile, and I'm left alone doing it. It's quiet and low stress.



• I have an appointment with Doctor Graeme, my lovely GP, on Friday and will be able to organise some blood tests and a referral to my Immunologist Doctor Paul. Steps towards better health!



• I am incredibly fortunate to have support from this madosphere, the mental health bloggers, who are terrific and wise and funny and brave. Thank you!

I have to admit, I feel happier for having made that list. It cancels out all the worries and stresses I normally have on my mind. Maybe I will have to make it a regular thing. Neil and I are currently in the midst of a Buffy The Vampire Slayer marathon, after seeing the original movie on television a couple of weeks ago. I have all the DVDs (and Angel). My latest saying has become "What Would Buffy Do??" when I get negative. While I'm not planning on taking up staking or kick boxing, having an attitude of strength and survival is all-too-important.

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".

fear is the heart of love

So much has changed over the last six weeks. Left my job, got a new one. Left my house, got a new one. Left my independent life, became a live-in girlfriend. Not all of it's been easy. In fact, most of it has been fracking hard. I feel like I'm treading water, waiting for my feet to be able to touch bottom, but all there is down there is a vast, terrifying, murky depth. Honestly, I don't know how long I can keep my head above water. Being mad is all very well when you live alone and work only three days a week. There's a lot of time leftover for retreating to bed with the sheets pulled up over my throbbing, pounding, naysaying head. These days I have to be awake, showered, dressed (and not just in sweat pants or a sarong) and ready to face the world by 6.45am. Neil asks me if I have had breakfast (puke at the thought), made lunch (ditto), tells me to have a great day. Without fail, I spend the entire hour and a half journey to work thinking how I can get out of going, or how I can be well enough to not be in one of the hospitals I pass, or what food I can binge on or junk I can purchase to cheer myself up. I am no sicker than before this all began. Mostly, I manage to feel "normal" and complete a day's work. But there's no doubt that the extra social pressure takes its toll. For most of the weekend I collapse thankfully into sleep or junk-TV watching. I eat entire packets of chocolate biscuits then berate myself for being so fat, lazy, unmotivated, hideous, ill, ill, ill. Neil asks me, fearfully, if I've taken my medication. Yes, yes, yes, but I am still mad, you see. The medication takes the sharp edges off but you can still be hurt by the blunt ones. My things arrived at Neil's two weeks ago and are still half-packed. I don't have enough cupboard space for my clothes, pantry room for my food, bookshelves for my books. My belongings randomly overflow out of boxes like the disjointed conversations I have with people at work. Nothing makes sense, there's no rhyme nor reason, no place for my Big Ole Crazy to be. I miss having space. I miss having peace and quiet and nothingness. It was easier to convince people I was okay when I didn't actually have to see them. I don't know if I can do this. But I am still here, trying. Title post from Death Cab For Cutie's "I Will Follow You Into The Dark"

do you know the one where we all live happily

Hi everyone! I'm so sorry I've been away from the blogosphere, and crikey I have missed you all )-: Contrary to how I sometimes feel these days, I'm surviving and occasionally thriving. Went back to work fulltime two weeks ago and jeez it's been tough. I miss my four day weekends. I miss having a lazy ass job where I was able to write and check blogs every day. But, I am looking forward to my first pay cheque next week and to having enough money to start repaying my parents for all their financial support since my last breakdown in 2009.

I have a job working for a government department, it's fairly basic data entry and it's quiet and that suits me just now. I think going back to work fulltime is hard enough without having to cope with stress or phones ringing and people needing me to help them, etc. Sometimes I feel bored, but that's natural right? Sometimes (often) I feel tired, but given my new lifestyle that's expected, right?

Mostly, I have maintained a positive mood which is probably thanks to the Cymbalta and Solian more than anything else. Life outside work is going well, though there are major changes in my home life to contend with along with the changes at work. Michelle, my housemate, met a nice man six months ago and they have decided to move in together. Awesome for them, but it meant I had the choice of trying to find a new room-mate, trying to live on my own (financially difficult) or moving in with Neil. After discussion Neil and I decided I should move in with him, which I'm both excited and terrified about! He lives with his obtuse and recalcitrant 19 year old son and his small dog, and as you know I am devoted to my moody cat. His house is a lot further out of the city (where I work) and further from public transport. But apart from these minor issues, I think it's going to be great for our relationship and will save me money. Neil owns his home and doesn't want me to pay rent - so I can put that money aside for saving or repaying my parents. I'll obviously contribute to all the bills, but even so I will be a lot better off financially. I love and adore him, too!! So that's a positive environment to be in. It's just a change, that's all, and one that may bring out the worst in me, my mental illness, our relationship, etc. Moving day is April 2nd so wish us luck!

Doc A has been away in Italy at a conference, and I cancelled my last appointment, so it's been about six weeks since I saw him. With all these changes, I could have done with the support. He's stopped doing after hours consultations, so I don't know how I will juggle fulltime work with therapy. But I know I need to try and work it out.

I need to get back to work so I have to be brief. Michelle took her computer when she moved out, so I have no option for reading blogs except lunch breaks at work. I miss everyone so much! I hope you're all hanging in there, and finding some happiness. I will try and check in more often and update you guys.

Lots of love, Lil xx

Post title is from Lisa Mitchell "Coin Laundry".

just a jump to the left

And then a step to the right. To and fro, up and down, here and there. Life is a comedy of swings and roundabouts lately, and if I didn't know better I would wonder if I were experiencing a mixed episode... Recently I spent the majority of ten days in bed, paralysed with the crippling grief of depression and swallowed whole by a black cloud. An appointment with Doc A (the first one in 3 months due to his vacation) had me upping my Cymbalta meds and since then things have improved. But one of the things I instigated while I was languishing in my depressive episode was to quit my job.

Rather than it being an impulsive act, or the result of a breakdown, I decided to quit because my job has steadily become too easy, too boring, too pointless, too... well, too simple to just not go. There are a lot of positives, and they were very kind to me last year when I had my month of mental health leave, but in the end it was time for me to move on. I've decided to look for full-time work, which is terrifying but necessary. I need money. I need private health insurance, and to pay $500 to finalise my divorce. I need a decent haircut and colour. I need new shoes. I've been finding it increasingly impossible to live on the part-time wage I was receiving, so I have to at least TRY to work more hours. I've done it before, and I believe that if I find a job that's halfway interesting and productive I will be happy to go full-time. Even if it's just for six months or a year until I get ahead again.

I can't lie, though, it's a scary proposition. I am used to having four days a week to spend in bed recovering from working three days. I am used to a slack workplace that expects very little where I can (as I am now!!) check blogs, write emails and apply for other jobs without anyone commenting. Bring it on, though. I kind of look forward to having expectations placed upon me, I almost believe that I will rise to the occasion and perform as required. At the moment, even though so little is required of me, I still languish in depression and lazy bed-ridden-ness. My mum made the point that I may as well "die trying"!! If I am going to have a massive meltdown why not do it while earning stacks of money and doing a high-faluting job??

Thus far, I've had a few interviews and been offered one job which seemed to be nearly as boring as the one I have now. I have until March 3 at my current position, so there's time to find something. Neil and I are going to Melbourne tomorrow for a few days holiday, which I am SO looking forward to. I get to introduce him to my friend H, and we are going to a great zoo over there which has open range safari type landscape with African animals. My parents paid for the plane tickets as a Christmas present, and Neil has saved up the spending money as I am ridiculously poor )-: I am looking forward to the break, and some time spent with my lovely boy. We had a great Valentine's yesterday, went out for dinner and talked about possibly moving in together at some stage over the next few months. YIKES!! Big changes!

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?