The Inevitiable Hard Reset

I’m not going to kid you, living with Bipolar is no easy task, some people have it to a degree where they notice no ongoing effects. Others suffer constantly and end up needing serious and long drawn-out medical care and support.

All I know about my Bipolar as I learn, is that I cycle through my moods rapidly, with sometimes deep and pronounced mixed effects. In the past I have had serious depressions, which have lasted over six months, with medical assistance, the highs have been paid no attention, until my diagnosis. Now that medication and exploration have begun, I seem to have short bursts of mood, deep in their intensity and without those around me trying to understand, they would have been immensely damaging.

Saturday, I had my big reset day. This has been happening each month without fail, for the past three months and I’m not sure if it’s me fighting off something bigger, or if it’s a regular part of my seemingly new-erratic bipolar cycle.

I woke reasonably early, finding a text from my sister advising that she was going to go with my Mum to her new Gym earlier than planned. Thankfully I had planned a day ahead and had already picked up a bottle of champagne and a congratulations card ready to go. Up, showered, Tom-Tom programmed to avoid the M5, off we went up to Avon..

We arrived in good spirits to find my sister out on the streets advertising for the business and trying to get people through the door. I surprised my Mum as I had fobbed her off in the week and wanted to sneak in under the radar and make her smile.. which I managed to.

I admit, yes, I was a little excited and hyper… nothing out of the ordinary for me though. AT & I grabbed a big wodge (yes that’s a real word) of flyer’s, and we headed out on to the streets to irritate the fine public. My Bipolar symptoms seem to trigger a lot around my family, this is probably why my younger sister sees me as vulnerable or a little incapable. So, what I’m admitting to, is that I should have sat back and thought about what comes next and planned my actions, as a typical responsible adult…. I didn’t.

Things should have been apparent when I wasn’t phased by approaching the public “cold” and selling the idea of gym memberships, I started to get excited and a little competitive. I was getting better and better, appearing the ever charming sales woman, hooking people in with my wit and ease of conversation and encouraging a lot of people into the gym to the open day, teasing them with the prospect of a membership and all of our unique selling points. AT has always known that I have a great way with people, she believes when I want to, my sister’s never seen this side. Sis works in PR (amongst other things) and she was totally taken back with my gung-ho attitude and confidence. I was at this for about 3 hours continually, shifting my wodge and chatting to all sorts of people, usually getting a big smile at the end of my patter. Things started to get a bit fuzzy, some of my words got a bit jumbled, although at times with amusing outcomes. I got a woozy feeling in my head and slowed a little, I was panicking, sis saw this and said that I should have 5 minutes.

I started to think about what else was to happen that day, I had website photo’s to take and I was meeting Sis’ new boyfriend. I really hate meeting people for the first time, I get so caught up in the will they like me cycle, I can be so spiky and hard to work out. This is compounded by the fact that when Sis’ is involved, it’s worse, I’m fat, she’s thin. I have black hair, Sis is Blonde (both naturally). I can be reserved on first meeting you, Sis’ can be rather RAAA. The differences could not be further exaggerated and people often discuss this for the entirety of our first meeting. Sometimes this is amusing, at other times a little draining and it can play on my deeper insecurities and need for identity.

Anyway, returning to where I was. I decided to come in from outside the gym and headed upstairs to the rest foyer, I had a small bottle of water, which I always call my saviour as I am eternally thirsty. I was working up a big panic, I couldn’t think why. My brain is racing, looking at all the detail in the building, looking at the small cracks, the joins in the carpet the paint splashes (minimal) and at the same time re-running all the faces I had seen that morning, along with our chatter, mixed in with what I thought the lunchtime meet chats would involve. This is getting a bit fast, I am trying to control myself with breathing, trying to suppress the feeling to get up and run as far and as fast as I can into this unknown town and stop only where I find a safe and warm place to be alone.

It’s a really frightening thing to experience a feeling that you’re losing control, be it a year of loss, a month, or a matter of hours. The bit that really counts, are the few seconds where you feel it go, the panic, the fear of the knowing, what’s this going to unleash? As I mentioned earlier, some people are profoundly affected by what happens after this moment, to the point that they end their lives, or make some awful decisions which impair their lives. Some people can just about throw the anchor out and slow things down enough to prevent the “biggie”.

So here I am in the gym, freaking out, clawing at the inside of my head. But to look at me you would not realise that anything was amiss. I am an expert at disguising the early and mid stages of Hypo Mania. I remove myself from all people and stimulus and freak out internally. My brain is the fastest computer, the fastest commentator you will ever have experienced, it is thrashing out a million scenarios and what ifs at the same time it is considering what is happening around me. To the outsider I seem removed and a little lost in thought, if you try to communicate with me, I’ll try and get rid of you as effectively as possible. This could be casing an argument, being rude or generally walking out on you. I won’t make much sense, I’ll talk a bit slurred, I’ll be aggressive, it’s just the pattern. 25 years of being Bipolar without diagnosis, without support, has allowed these barriers and behaviours to develop. They have also made seeking treatment extra difficult and maintaining communication near on impossible, if I can talk to you, then trust me I’m OK.

After about 40 minutes of this, I can’t handle it. I’m fidgeting, I know that if I allow my brain the luxury of space, it’s going to pick a fight and it will win, using my own energy against me. So, the open day for the Gym has concluded. I unpack my digital camera that I have brought along to do the web photos, ready to build a site. I ramble on incoherently at my Mum’s business partner, mixing my words up, jabbering, missing the bloody point of the conversation! I get everyone organised, send them off to do make-up and outfits (bloody straight women!).

My sister is winding me up, smacking my arse when I bend over, pinching me and generally trying to rile me. I get irritable and swear like a sailor, chase her and give her a mighty arse slap, my Mum’s trying to tell us off without much success! Eventually, everyone is ready and we’re off. I take my work very seriously, as I like my sites t be as good as they can. I chat to people when photographing them to get expressive shots and like a Hypo Manic fool, this job has taken my mind off the panic that is waiting to pounce back in. I take over 150 photos of 20 pieces of gym equipment, Mum / Business Partner / Sister & AT posing as models and the building.

Time’s up, ready to move on to the pub for some food and the boyfriend meet, he’s travelling down from Sheffield to Bristol and is currently stuck on the M1 behind a massive accident, poor git!

I hate pubs, I hate noise, people, eating out and alcohol, so not a lot working for me on that count eh! We arrive and I get the drinks in, to celebrate Mum’s new venture, we settle on sitting outside. The wooziness has now subsided for a buzzing headache, we’re all making gentle conversation, the atmosphere is tick though. Sis is clearly nervous about her new boyfriend meeting the family, Mum is tired and feeling emotional as my Dad is not here to support her, something we don;’t really discuss, I have a headache and AT is the only one that seems truly relaxed (lucky cow).

Mum says that her stomach could eat itself, so I order some jacket skins to tide us over until the boyfriend arrives. Thinking about it, I haven’t eaten since 8am when I had my breakfast and pills, not feeling hungry though, feeling pumped and a little anxious.

Boyfriend arrives, seems sweet. Has sunglasses on though and doesn’t take them off, AT knows that this is a pet hate of mine, I hate not seeing someones eyes, feel it’s disrespectful, but let him off as I feel he’s nervous. Jacket skins arrive while I’m in the loo, get back to find them soggy and a little cold, think I’ll have one or two, it’ll keep the family quiet. Instantly, I feel unsettled and very distracted, hardly able to maintain any interest, the boyfriend is sweet, telling the right stories, laughing in the right places, being attentive accordingly, how refreshing. I then feel my eyes switch from normal vision, to wide eye. Where I notice everything, from the pepper lowing out of the pot and wafting across the beer garden, to the smallest ant three tables away. I feel a further rush of anxiety, which has no grounds, I’m surrounded by family who adore me, why would I be this wired?

I hold out for AT, Mum and Sister to eat their main courses, I just can’t face food, becoming more fidgety. I can’t hold on anymore need the loo again, make it just inside the pub and I’m sick in my own mouth <?>, run to the toilet and I am violently sick, uncontrollably, shaking, crying, shocked. WHY?! It takes 20 minutes to finish, calm down and clean up. I bump into my mum in the toilet, who sees I’ve been ill and sees me shaking, I explain that I really need to leave, but I don’t want to spoil my Sister’s day. She says she’ll explain it to her, which relieves me, so I go back to the table and try to disguise my absence. Anxiety is back up and I can’t relax, I tell AT that we really need to leave. She doesn’t make a scene, but you can see she’s not best pleased. It’s all kisses goodbye, and I feel relief as we leave the pub.

This is where the fun usually starts, you see AT is amazing, but does not see the differences between Bipolar me and usual me, she doesn’t differentiate that I can’t rationalise nor explain away my thoughts and feelings and I think this really frustrates her.

We’re walking out of the pub and she’s been relaxed, had a few drinks and was really enjoying the company. From her viewpoint, I’ve probably just yanked her out of a comfortable place for no good reason.

We’re bickering a little as we walk, I’m not making sense, I know that, I keep telling her that I don;t feel right, my head is weird, I’ve been really sick and I’m trembling. I walk into shops, unsure of what I’m looking for and walk around lost, confused and then amble out again, which is heightening AT’s frustration. I can’t explain myself, how bad is that, over 2000 words on this post alone already and I couldn’t articulate myself at all to my long term partner, adding to her now anger.

I end up in the last shop picking up Paracetamol for my headache, I reasoned that with them and some water, 20 minutes rest I could zip down the M4. I was trying to convince AT, who was over the limit and I would never ever ask to drive, I was far to high to stay with family as I was becoming more and more agitated. We’re still arguing as she keeps saying to me “I can’t see where this is going”, “this has only been happening since you’ve had a CPN”, “well I can;t drink if we go out again if you’re going to put us in this position”, none of which I can compute, I don;t want to be talked to, I can’t explain myself. I am at the edge of terror looking in, feeling completely alone from the world, despairing and now thinking that I am going to lose my partner! The CPN is not causing this, this has caused me to seek help and call in the GP and subsequently the CPN etc, which is completely necessary.

I sit in the car, reluctantly take my pills, I don’t advocate driving while high, seriously don’t do it! I’ve had an accident and written off a car when high, I had no idea I was high at the time. I didn’t hurt anyone, it was my car vs. a parking post and I lost. That’s one for a different blog.

I was not conscious of the fact I was high, all I knew was that I was in Bristol and I needed to be in my home back in Wiltshire. I had no other way of getting home, the longer I waited, the worse I felt, I needed a distraction. AT would shut up if I was driving, I would be at home, safe, relieved. So I started the car and started my journey home, it took every ounce to keep my eyes open, I was sitting in the most peculiar way, head splitting but it had to be done. Hitting the M4, I know I was driving like a maniac, hard and fast, I just needed to be home and I was going to get us there hell no high water. AT was sensibly silent, I think afraid to do her usual driving instructor routine.

We pull up at home, still frosty. I’m still tunnel visioned, trembling, I go to bed racing and just lie there. AT is attempting to bring me round with her version of tough love and bossiness, trying t get me to eat and talk, neither of which I can do.

After 3 hours of lying in bed, zombied.. I manage some food, then manage some low-fi TV and a browse on the internet, the tingling is backing off, the brain slowing, the relief thawing through me. I’m online until 2am and then make it to bed for a relieved and deep sleep.

I am woken at 3.30am to AT on the toilet, bad tummy. Hmm karma has a funny way of dishing things up, I make a sarky comment about AT’s lack of tolerance and support when I needed her. I think the point is proven, before I make her some Tea & Toast and we crash out.

My Bipolar life is so random, so hidden, so personal. I would love to fit an auxillary jack at the nap of my neck and plug it in to an LCD and visually represent my feelings, my rushing surges of interest and obsession, my feelings of slight from a glance or the misjudged word which will always be carried around in the self-effacing compartment.

I can’t do this unfortunately, but I can blog.

-Beeper-

This Morning….

Halfway To Arghh (and I Think I Left The Oven On)…

Oh what to say? I promised to be honest in my blog, even about the squishy bits, something which is somewhat alien to me.

One thing about my bipolar that I have noticed more than anything, is my intolerance to noise and in particular raised voices, it sets off a fight or flee complex. If I can’t turn the situation round, I can’t cope and I start a withdrawal that will involve an angry tirade or I will just become very quiet, remove myself from the situation. Both normally point me towards the start of a depression and I find it very difficult to fend it off.

I understand that people have the right to be angry sometimes, that in normal conversation voices can and do become raised. People are entitled to their opinions, I would always argue this. The issue I have is in the delivery, please, respectfully if you want to be around me, speak to me, I respond to it very well. When you raise the voice, start quoting me back and trying to tie me in knots, you’re pushing a deep pre-programmed button, which will result in us both being unsatisfied.

I have had that said situation right now, nothing I request seems to be going through. I know my GF is ill at the moment and not being herself, I am trying my hardest to be tolerant and supportive, cooking / buying dinner, tidying up and making sure there is cold medicines about. I know that she’s not sleeping properly, and some of that is due to a snoring issue my medication has brought out, so I have slept on the sofa to allow her a full night’s sleep. Still she doesn’t understand that I can’t deal with the angry and tinged outpourings, I’m tired too, on my way down and trying to hold it together.

You can’t dish bipolar up on a platter to show people how you feel and what it’s doing to you, how do you demonstrate a broken mind? Some people say they understand, but do they really? or are they saying that to stay onside? I barely understand my reactions, to what seem natural behaviours. I think this is me learning about triggers, what they are and trying (tactfully) to manage them.

Here I am, having a shitty few days. I haven’t done any of the work I was supposed to off my bosses’ shopping list (she’s on leave), eating like a horse, feeling a bit down in the mouth and lacking energy even to shower, when this is a ritualistic part of my being.

I am dwelling on tiny insignificant comments that people make, they’re whirring around in my brain, to the point I can’t see properly. Something silly like “snap out of it”, “get over it” or such said in jest, is building up a huge, inappropriate rage for me. It’s part of myself that I hate the most, the inability to let something go, just float away and pay no heed to. Something I inherently can not do, I wish people could see that their words are like oversized crows, adamant on pecking my heart out viciously.

The physical change is evident when I swing, I feel the chemicals whirring in my brain, it’s like a bunch of irritating worms, slowly crawling though your brain. Mix this in with the electrical pulses that shoot out, bipolar for me is very much a physical condition, which eats into my mentality.

I have a CPN visit this lunchtime, which should be interesting. She’s never really seen me like this as I am usually bouncing about, it’s hard to even look at people at the moment. I feel like I could walk up to the next inappropriately happy person and punch them square in the chops!

I need to remember to discuss my Depakote with my CPN, I haven’t seen her properly in about three weeks, even though it’s meant to be weekly. like her, so I think I let her off a bit. I only have about a week’s worth of Depakote left and before my upgrade, I need a blood test and a new prescription. I think they’re cutting it fine to pull it off, but we’ll see what happens. Maybe we’ll change level, mid month. I’m considering telling her about my mini-bursts of hypo mania, I think it’s that which is burning me out.

Here I go then, trying to pull the mood around, at work looking at the sunshine through the door and wishing I could be alone in my camper Mr. Bojangles in a field somewhere, with the door open and a good book, letting this shitty feeling wash over me and go for a journey of it’s own.

Whilst I’m drinking my second coffee so far, I’m thinking about my mum’s business opening this Saturday. I know she’s so excited as it’s her life’s dream to open it, we all got an invite to go along and my first response was Ugghh god I really don’t want to! I love my mum and I’m so proud of her, I just hate being at “events” and since my bipolar diagnosis, I don’t think she connects with me very well. I put her off with a text (my usual blanket of disguise), saying I was taking Mr. Bojangles away this weekend. I was feeling a little guilty about this, but justifying it to myself, until I got a text from my sister….. who was completely right. She asked if I was going to travel up and be at mum’s opening for moral support, god how much of a shit did I feel.. not to mention Hypocrite. She’s taking her new boyfriend up, which is lovely as he sounds so nice, must be serious, boyfriends never get an introduction. So I think I will U-turn and surprise mum with a big boquet of flowers and a hug. I think she deserves that much.

Right, I’m going to take my fuzzy, ungrateful, angry brain and try to do something constructive with it … “meh”.

I’ll see if I can gibber about the CPN visit a little later… stay safe.

-Beeper-

Please Sort It Out Guys!…

Ok.. So I’m overbearing, irritating and full of annoying habits. But please, please can someone else unload the work’s dishwasher? Really it’s not that hard, I load it and put it on at night,first person in to touch it in the morning should unload it, fair? Christ sake, it rubs me up to walk in and see that you’ve taken your cup out and left everything else in there, it’s so lazy, it takes two sodding minutes!

You see I have to tolerate the cheese that smells like baby death and cloggs up the whole kitchen with it’s green fog, the random dog licked bowls hanging around, cobwebs, poo smells and dust. Just chip in occasionally here and there, I mean is it standard adult practice to eat a yoghurt, run the spoon under a tap then place it back in the tray? I saw that and it made me gag.. I could be using that in my coffee later!

I know my “individual” washing up equipment causes a hoot, you see I’ve been obsessive from a very young age. What’s the point of having nice things or trying to be above your station, if you can’t be clean? It undoes everything you are, I’m a person of simple things, cleannness, tidyness, respect and routine. It’s simple, clean up after yourself, it takes very little and gains a lot of respect.

By leaving the dishwasher, you think it will play on me until I can take no more, well, although it is irritating me, I can hear it calling me. I have left it this time, just as you have. When you go to lunch before me, you’ll see that I’m not going to constantly wipe your arse for you.

Oh by the way, wash your hands after you’ve been to the toilet, that’s a basic one, your mum should have taught you that?!

How can people be upper class and yet so god damn untrained and unashamed in their lifestyle? Maybe it’s my Bipolar or OCD traits, but I was brought up working class, through the 70’s and 80’s. Everyone had chores and both of my parents were very tidy people, nothing was left sitting around. Soap costs 20p, bleach under £1, dusters are pence… it’s relaxing to clean up, well when I’m Hypomanic, I love it.

Phew, bet I go and empty it in a minute!

-Beeper-