There are a number of passages in the Bible which make me sit up and question, sit up an reflect on, their true meaning.
Indeed there are a number of passages that lead me off on wonderful journeys of discovery.
Likewise some passages which I thought I had understood will often leap out at me with new meaning, new significance, new revelation.
But then, more than any other writing, the Bible for me stands unique as a constant living and fluid unfurling of narration, a living explanation of the relationship that I have with God through Christ.
One such passage that has often caused me to sit and reflect is that of 1 John 4:18…
18 There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love. (KJV)
“But perfect love casteth out fear.” Its an interesting one isn’t it? Especially if, like me paranoia, or anxiety, forms part of your mental health. And especially if thqt paranoia forms part of your schizophrenia or your schizo-affective disorder and those ‘voices’ or that inner dialogue asks such things as “see you have fear, so you are not made perfect in love – what does that tell you then?”
The key words for me here however, is that of “casteth out” or in the NIV ” drives out”. In the Greek the word is βάλλω (ballō) and means to throw out or get rid of. So in answer to those voices and that inner dialogue I have to say, “how can you cast out, drive out, throw out, or get rid of something that you don’t have?”
It is a valid point isn’t it? You have to have something in the first place in order to be able to cast it out or get rid of it? So having a faith in God through Christ doesn’t mean that I will never fear or have reason to fear, it instead challenges what I do with fear when it comes my way.
So let’s look at that for a moment…
I wonder how many of us as parents have had our child or children wake up from a bad dream or nightmare and in their fear automatically call out to us of come to our bedroom door in search of us?
Or if you have no children how many of us can remember doing that ourselves when we were children and had a bad dream or nightmare?
Just going to Mum or Dad and getting their reassurance and the security that that offered dealt with that fear didn’t it? The faith and trust that perfect love that a child has for and in and from his or her parents casts out that fear.
Isn’t (and shouldn’t) the same be true in respect of the fear that we face in life as children of God?
Can’t we go to Him in faith through Christ knowing that as our perfect heavenly Father we have that perfect blessed assurance?
God is our heavenly Father and His love is perfect. In Him we have comfort and joy, as the old song goes, and yet there is no where in the Bible – as far as I can see – that says that through a relationship with God through Christ all threats, all trials, all troubles will be removed from us. In fact there are several places that indicate that they may well increase.
I have long since said, that one of the fundamental roles of a parent for a child is in many ways to be representatives and representations of God until the child is able to understand and develop his or her own relationship with God through Christ Jesus.
That source or comfort, of reassurance, of guidance and protection that we should get from our parents – especially in our younger years – is an excellent example of this and I fully believe that as Christians it is the perfect love of our heavenly Father that enables us to cast out all fear.
Some students of the bible will no doubt suggest that since this verse being preceded by the words of verse 17…
17 This is how love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment: In this world we are like Jesus.
it would indicate that this passage is speaking of the day of judgement, but I would point out that actually it is also about how we live our lives up to that day. Consider the words of verse 19 I would add…
19 We love because he first loved us.
We love because He first loved us and it is that perfect love that provides is with the courage that we need to run the race for which we are called.
Yes things have and in many ways are still tough and I know that I am not alone in that and that many others are going through equally if not tougher times. But as a child of my heavenly Father, His perfect love gives me the strength to go on
Well it has been a long time since I have done a serious post. Certainly much longer than I had anticipated or would have wanted.
In my post “A. W. O. L.” (posted March 4th) I briefly explained how I had not been well for some time and how due to this (and the cold weather) I had not felt able to post anything coherent or noteworthy.
I also thanked everyone for their very kind concern and messages of encouragement and “well-wishes” and would very much to thank everyone again now.
The good news is that I am very much on the mend now and have been busy working away on a couple of projects that I have been wanting to do for a while now.
The truth is that I had found myself in a bit of a hole, quite a deep hole really – and I would wager I am not alone in experiencing these.
I knew that I was in one and indeed could see the light at the end of the tunnel and hope that I would soon reach the end of it, but actually reaching it was something entirely different!
Mentally I have been struggling also. Thankfully not so much that I couldn’t see the light at the end of the tunnel. Isn’t that often what depression can be like? That no matter whether the light is there sometimes we just can’t see it?
Physically I have also been struggling and sometimes, no matter how bright the light or how desperately I may have wanted to get to it, I just haven’t had the strength of means to reach it. So it was as if the light at the end of the tunnel seemed unreachable for that time.
Thankfully I was not alone in all of this. I had the kindness of many of you and the support and care and encouragement of my family and friends and my church family and even more I had (and have) my faith to help me get through it all.
So I am very encouraged!
Not only do I feel much stronger but now I even feel as if I am climbing out of that hole that I was in and I am looking forward to getting back into the swing of things! (Of course I have to exercise wisdom and caution and ease back into things)
As I said before, I am so thankful for all the care and support that I have had and for all your kindness. I am also extremely thankful for my faith which has without doubt helped me through this last episode
I promised dear Ellen from over at Moonside, that I would write and post this and being true to my word is important to me. But I know it will be a fairly long post, so I apologize fr that from the outset and would hope that folk would still take the time to read it…
Not really understanding what was going on in my heart, I walked into the office after work one night, in search of Jim.
“PTL! PTL!” Came the ever-happy reply – it was short for ‘Praise the Lord’ and was, from Jim, a stock response to most things.
“Got time for a chat?” I asked him.
“Yes of course” came his instant response as he shut the office door and gestured towards a set for me to sit in. “I’ll make a coffee and then you can tell me what’s up” he added.
Jim was a really nice guy. A Christian brother and colleague and the Center Manager. Although definitely my senior in age and technically my senior in the staff hierarchy, being senior just wasn’t Jim’s thing. Certainly not with and not with anyone else from what I could see.
As Jim made us both a cuppa, I looked around the office. I would be moving into it soon enough as Jim was leaving to go to Bible College soon and I would be taking his job. On his desk sat a little wooden cross with a light green plastic Jesus nailed to it. “That’s going the minute I take over this office.” I thought to myself, “I am not into crucifixes and Jesus has risen!”
I was already the weekend Center Manager and was taking the job up full-time when Jim left. There was a strange connection there as the Bible College Jim was leaving to attend I was considering going to before deciding instead to go work at the YMCA and eventually replacing Jim.
“I don’t feel or experience God or see Christ any more.” I told him sadly as soon as he returned with our drinks.
“Well He isn’t hiding” Jim laughed but soon guessed from my face that it was no joking matter and was bothering me greatly.
Jim, like most people knew nothing about my mental health although he had always sensed that I was “slightly different” to most of the other staff there. That sounds very serious” He told me. “And I can tell that it is really bothering you.”
Jim was right and the conversation that then took place lasted for about 40 minutes and covered most of the bases when t came to feeling or experiencing or seeing God. But to no avail.
“Perhaps I am just incredibly tired,” I offered weakly. “It is almost Monday night and it has been a tough weekend. Apart from the odd nap here and then I have now been working since Friday evening.”
Jim agreed and suggested that we prayed together before I went. I agreed and closed my eyes ad lowered my head. “I’ll just turn the light off.” Jim told me. It will help us focus and hopefully will convince others that the office is empty so we won’t get disturbed.
Eyes still closed, I listened as Jim turned off the light and then started praying. It was a deep heartfelt prayer and I was touched by the intimacy of his pleas for me. I agreed with him by saying amen when he did and then struggled out a prayer of my own. Jim agreed with me throughout the prayer and then once I had said “Amen” he also did.
I opened my eyes and looked up in the darkness of the office waiting for Jim to turn the light on. But the minute my eyes were open there before me was a little green glowing Christ. For a moment I was stunned. I hadn’t realized that the plastic Christ figure on the little wooden crucifix was glow in the dark.
“Weird isn’t it?” Jim commented as he turned the light on and noticing my staring at it. “It was donated by an old supporter of our work and I didn’t have the heart to get rid of it.”
“Well it certainly surprised me” I told him.
“Can I ask you a question?” Jim asked me.
“Sure” I told him.
“What is the one place or one thing that always brings you close to God?” he asked me.
I thought for a moment of two. There were so many potential answers, or at least there had been up until a few days ago.
“Other than people, Creation I guess.” I told him. “I just have to look at creation at the stars, the sea, the land, plants, flowers, animals, birds, fish and I see God.”
“Well maybe that’s your answer” He suggested. “Spend some time with creation.”
I thanked Jim and left the office. It was the middle of summer and hot out so whilst I was dressed only in tracksuit trousers and a t-shirt I didn’t even bother stopping to go back to my quarters for a jacket. I just said goodnight and left.
Walking out of the front doors of the YMCA i lowered my head a little and started to pray as I made for the beach no more that 500 yards away. It was a deep heartfelt prayer telling God I didn’t know why I could no longer see him, feel Him, experience Him? Asking God what I had done wrong? Explaining that I was on my way to the beach to stand and look out at the sea, to watch the rolling waves which reminded me so much of his ever flowing power and mercy.
Right across from the YMCA where I worked and would soon live and running parallel with the beach there was a long grassy mound under which hid some naval defenses – a left-over after the war. Head still lowered I climbed the mound and then looked out across the sea.
There was nothing. No roaring waves, no foaming tips, no nothing. It was dark and a very calm night and I cannot begin to describe the anticlimax in my heart. “But I need the roaring waves.” I complained silently. “I need the reminding of your ever-flowing power and mercy.”
Still nothing. I am not even sure I even expected God to suddenly summon up a storm for me.
“Ok.” I thought. “Then I will look at the stars.” That beautiful blanket of stars which always remind me of a million tiny blessings sprinkled over creation.
I looked up into the night sky. Again nothing! Not a single solitary star could be seen.
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me!” I complained. “What did I do that you would pull so far away from me?” I couldn’t understand it. It felt somehow personal. Of course logically it probably wasn’t. It was just a very calm night with an overcast sky, but I was in no place for logic.
“Ok Lord.” I called out defiantly. “I am not going anywhere until you give me a star. Just one star. Surely that isn’t asking too much from you, after all wasn’t it you who sewed together the very universe?”
I waited. Still nothing.
“Right then.” I told Him. “I shall just wait until you are less busy.”
I sat down on the grass looking up at the sky, glancing every now and then back at the sea in case a storm happened to roll by.
Just how long I waited, sat there expectantly I couldn’t say, but finally I got a sore butt.
“I am not going.” I told God, laying myself down on the grass mound, placing my hands behind my head and looking up into the blank night sky waiting for a star. A single solitary star.”
Still nothing.
“It’s just one star!” I complained. “Just one single solitary little star! It doesn’t even have to be a good one.” I turned my gaze from side to side and scanned the skies. Nothing!
“Ok God.” I explained in my defiance. “I am not moving from this spot until you give me a star.” I told him.
The heavens opened and it poured down. A cold, heavy, clothes-drenching downpour.
“Oh that is just not funny!” I told Him. “But it won’t work, I am not moving without seeing my star.”
Just how long I lay there defiantly looking up into the night sky in the pouring rain I could not tell you. But certainly long enough for the dawn to break around me and the night sky to become the day sky.
Cold, soaked to the skin and incredibly tired and dejected I finally gave up. Without word I got up and started the long walk home. It was too early for a bus and what taxi driver would want a soaking wet passenger? And besides I didn’t want to talk to anyone.
I walked home along the beach but cannot even remember looking out to sea even once. What was the point? I had already got the message loud and clear – or so I thought.
The walk home was about 4 miles and I finally made it back to my parent’s house where I was living at the time, let myself in and climbed the stairs to my room.
What I was thinking I couldn’t really say. What can you think when you feel you have lost the most important relationship there is in life?
Going into my bedroom I peeled off my soaking wet clothes and let them drop to a sodden heap on the floor before standing there exhausted and naked.
Kicking the heap of wet clothes to the side I didn’t even have the energy to dry myself and simply slipped into bed. I was so tired. So very tired, tired beyond the ability to sleep. Laying on my back and placing my hands behind my head once more but this time on the pillow I listened to the sound of my mother moving about and then going down stairs.
Just as my eyes had desperately searched the sea and skies for signs of creation, signposts to God earlier, so my mind desperately searched for answers.
A knock on my bedroom door was immediately followed by its opening and my mother entering the room holding a hot mug of coffee.
“Morning son,” she greeted me. “You home very late, I made you a mug of coffee.” She told me as she placed the mug on the bedside table before turning and going to leave the room. But on reaching the open door she closed it slightly and turned her head back towards me and said, “Oh by the way, they think your dad is dying. But don’t say anything because we haven’t said anything to him yet.” And with that she left my bedroom closing the door behind her.
I could hardly believe my ears. “What was I hearing? What kind of night was I having? In one night was I truly destined to lose my heavenly father and my earthly father together?”
Turning on my side, I reached to my bedside table and took hold of my bible. Opening it I lay there blurry eyed and read it…
9 And he said unto me, My grace is sufficient for thee: for my strength is made perfect in weakness. Most gladly therefore will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. (2 Corinthians 12:9 KJV)
And in that moment I had my answer.
Yes the roaring flow of the waves, the white capped crest of the waves would have shown me God and spoken to me of His ever flowing power and mercy. Certainly the brilliance and majesty of the myriad of stars in a sky would have spoken to me of His blessings. Absolutely the vibrant variety of colors and shades and textures and pigments of flowers would have spoken to me of the wonderment of God.
But none, not one of them would have been the message that I needed to hear and that God needed to give me. Somewhere along the way, even though I was still only a young Christian at the time, I had lost my way, stopped relying on God and started relying on my own strength instead of His and He, in His infinite wonderful father-heart wisdom knew that I needed His strength not mine.
The fear that my earthly father was dying turned out to be premature. The cancer they thought he had was not there when they tested again. He died several years later – although sadly we had lost our closeness long before then.
I hadn’t lost my heavenly Father either that night. He was simply and lovingly teaching me a lesson that I needed to know so very deeply. That He is my Father and the creator, and that creation is His garden. His garden for us to play in and grow in and love in with Him.
“Good morning,” greets the doctor. “How can I help you today?”
“I think I am suffering from depression or something.” The man’s tells him. “I feel low all the time, am on edge, irritable, have a constant sense of impending doom. I think I need to see a psychiatrist.”
“Oh dear,” The doctor responds. “Have you tried being more positive?”
“Do you think that would help?” the man asks. “Because if you think it would help I am more than willing to give it a go.”
“I am sure it would.” The doctor confirms.
“Good,” replies the man, “Then, I am POSITIVE I am suffering from depression or something. I am POSITIVE that I feel low all the time, am on edge, irritable, and have a constant sense of impending doom. Now stop faffing about and refer me to a damn psychiatrist!”
I am not sure if I heard that joke, or a version of it, somewhere or I just made it up but either way it certainly has a ring of familiarity and truth about it doesn’t it?
Of course there is no disputing the power of positive thought but positive thought is not going to fully counter act chemical depression or other such conditions.
So, that being the case, do we simply give up and accept what is happening to us?
Well my answer is a very definite no! Do I accept that some mental health disorders/conditions are chemical or physiological or run so deep that thinking positively simply isn’t going to address or remove them? Yes of course I do but I have to believe that even in these situations positive thinking can and will is some way affect how they affect us and what impact they have on our quality of life.
Is that just psycho-babble or the desperate act of someone simply trying to get through? Well maybe that is true but what if it is? Sometimes desperate acts are all we feel we have left aren’t they?
And here’s the deal. I never asked for this mental illness and I may not have any control over the fact that I suffer mental illness, but I sure as heck have control over how I respond to it!
Last night was pretty bad and it hasn’t changed much this morning BUT I am not going to let it get me down. I am so very grateful for all the messages of support and encouragement that I received either here, on Facebook, Skype, Viber or email and I am sorry if I caused undue concern for anyone.
But I promise you I am ok and I will beat this thing!
I still have my faith, I still have my mischievous nature, I still have my sense of humor and I am blessed with a great deal of support. All of which gives me so much strength and all of which are a very real life-line for me.
So today I am thinking positively and today I am mooning my mental health and saying, “ok you can knock me down, but you will never beat me!”
If I had to describe my current mental health status using weather terms that would be the description that I would currently use as it is the most fitting that I could think of at this time.
“Overcast with a forecast of inclement weather”
Not a very positive report I know. But then I like to keep things real and I am acutely aware of my mental health and how it affects me and as I said, I couldn’t think of a more accurately descriptive report.
The thing is that whilst it give some information about what is happening right now and indeed does carry with it some warning of what is likely to come it doesn’t commit to anything too specific. Does it say tornadoes, hurricanes, whirlwinds, gales, etc? No. It just says that what is to come is likely to be stormy, tempestuous and severe.
The thing is that I just don’t know what is to come. I just know how I am at the moment – hence the “overcast” statement and I just know what feeling like this, being like this, normally leads to.
But we all get times like this don’t we? Times when we feel that there is little to no sunshine in our lives or even on the immediate horizon? Times when, for no apparent reason we get a sense of impending doom?
I mean surely those things, those feelings, those thought processes, are not unique to those of us who suffer from poor mental health or with mental illness? No of course they aren’t but here’s the deal.
When you do suffer from poor mental health or from mental illness, and know how that poor mental health or mental illness plays out in your life, those feelings – those thought processes, are usually far more accurate and are usually indicators that all is not right within and trouble is indeed in store.
Sadly, what they don’t often come with is specific indications as to just what kind of inclement mental health weather is to come.
Physically I am run down at the moment and, as the trip to the doctor today has confirmed I have indeed had flu for the past few weeks and on top of that also have a sinus infection.
I am very much aware of this and I am very much aware that this is affecting my overall poor physical health, sleep patterns and general mental health. LIkewise I am also aware that one of the conditions that I suffer from is paranoid schizophrenia. Impending doom and paranoia are close relatives in my experience and I also need to bear that in mind.
But I find myself extremely agitated an anxious at the moment and I find myself very much on edge. I want to sleep and hope the whole thing goes away, but know that sleep avoids me once again.
I want to reason this whole thing out with logic but find myself in that heelish place where I can reason enough to work out things are not right but not so much that I can reason my way beyond that or out of that. I dislike this particular place of confused and impaired mental agility and in response to that comes the temptation to self-medicate to such a degree where reason is no longer possible. But then isn’t that what the voices want?
My faith of course assures me that I will get through this and yet that same faith and assurance condemns me to go through it and not to give in.
The past seven days or so have certainly been a tough time for me physically although the good news is that mentally I have managed to keep fairly upbeat despite it all.
Being so ill has really put a block on my attempts to get healthier, lose weight and become more mobile but the fact of the matter is that this is all part of being ill, my CFIDS and being so desperately overweight.
Additionally my Hidradenitis suppurativa has flared up again and I have open lesions which is making walking much harder and more painful but hopefully with cleaning and treating and dressing these will go soon enough.
I am determined not to let it get me down and to keep on fighting regardless of it.
I had hoped for a good solid few weeks of better health so that I could serious make a dent in my weight and at least have something to show for what I have done so far. It is one of the cycles of the CFIDS and being so ill and so overweight that you do some exercise and then have to spend so much time in bed and seemingly undo all you have done.
Of course that is a pessimistic way of looking at it because the truth is that I would have been in bed anyway and so the exercise I have managed has if nothing else lessened the damage done by my being in bed so much.
But then that is one of the aspects of depression, looking at the darker side of things or at very least not being able to see the brighter side of things. Again I am determined to not do that and to fight the habit and tendency of doing that.
Tomorrow morning I have to see my psych and normally would get a cab/taxi there and back but tomorrow morning I am going to try to walk it – at least walk there if I can’t manage both. But since it is now 2 in the morning I had better go to bed and get some rest.
Oh and just to top things off for me, the dreaded breast lump has returned again but – seeing as I am wishing to be upbeat and positive this evening I took Tj out and we walked to town and back despite the torrential rain. By the time we got back I was absolutely soaked to the skin but felt so pleased to have been able to have done it.
There are many different perspective concerning mental illness and indeed Bipolar Disorder itself. Some have remarked that the manic part of bipolar is a complete high. The ‘funfair’ part of it all if you will.
Well I personally don’t think the manic part is always a high in terms of ‘happiness’ or fun and I have to ell you that if the manic part is a fun fair the depressed part is definitely the wasteland.
Actually, if you talk to folk who suffer with poor mental health or with mental illness, you get used to words such a “phases” and “episodes” and “levels” and “cycling”.
There is nothing unusual in this and indeed most things have associated with them certain terminology or jargon that is appropriate to that thing.
You might for example hear or read someone saying they think they are entering or exiting a “manic phase” or going into or indeed coming out of a “depressive phase”. And indeed that is perfectly understandable and quite common especially in respect of something like bipolar which in many ways is not only identified but also measured/judged by said phases.
The difficulty is however that it can lead to the misunderstanding or misconception that it has to be one or the other.
The fact is however that in my experience it simply doesn’t and that whilst certainly the ‘poles’ that are synonymous with bi’polar’ disorder are often present there is the huge area inbetween the ‘funfair’ and the ‘wasteland’.
What is also possible and in my personal experience often happens is that you can sometimes be in some yoyoing flux combining elements of both poles.
This weekend seems to have been one such time. Sometimes I am up and other times I am suddenly down and I can find no clear reason for the sporadic variation.
I have, on the face of it, had a really good weekend and have achieved a great deal but along side this I have felt like ‘death warmed up’ and each and every time I see a positive – something I have achieved this weekend – my mind (as if to turn right around, drop its pants, and moon me) throws out the awareness of a number of things that I have also failed to achieve.
I have had a great weekend in so many respects but I am aware that there are things I didn’t achieve but wanted to. I am going to try to remedy that tomorrow.
My physical health has been very poor this weekend and this has been a bit of a downer as it has hindered my attempts to get healthier. (you can follow these attempts here) And fortunately I have been able to achieve some stuff despite this. But it has been my mental health which has been the biggest concern to me.
In many ways it has been good but then right in the middle of my thinking it is good it would suddenly crash and for no apparent reason.
I need to keep an eye on this as these are often the times which prove the most harmful and tonight I have the urge to self-harm. I don’t think I will respond to it badly of follow the urge but it is definitely there. Urges and compulsions are a facet of my mental health and I am very much aware of this but then even being aware doesn’t always remove the risk. I am going to go do some things to try to distract my mind and also to hopefully tire myself out so that I can sleep tonight.
Yes that is the word for how I have felt today – although I accept that some scholars would argue the validity of it actually even being a word.
I woke up in a restless state with an absence of peace this morning and then read an article concerning a muslim man with mental illness who is facing execution in Ohio regardless of that mental illness and his ability to understand what is actually and is potentially happening to him. (You can read more on that here ‘Guilt By Dissociation’ if you wish although I do warn you it is somewhat disturbing.)
As the day progressed I found my peace – something which is extremely important to my mental health – coming and going with both positive and negatives happening all day long.
One such negative is in respect of my eyesight. I am finding it harder to read – even when typing. Of course the fact that I keep forgetting to wear my glasses may well have something to do with this lol.
On a positive note I heard back from the dietitian who is part of the team dealing with my morbid obesity and how it is affecting my heart and she has agreed the meal plan I designed and so I was able to institute that today and am now eating much healthier. (If you are really bored and/or want to see what I am up to in respect of my morbid obesity and my [once again started] fight for better physical health you can read this on my Weightloss blog – ‘No More Simply Weighting‘
[But please be warned that if there is one area of my life where I get so very disillusioned and thus start and stop when it comes to both my efforts and by related blogging it is in respect of my weightloss attempts.]
On the negative my health seems to be yoyoing again thanks to my heart and weight and CFIDS and consequently my exercise plan is following suit – although I am extremely encouraged by my recent efforts regardless of this.
On the positive I was able to pick up the mini-stepper and the exercise bike that dear friends of mine have kindly leant me. I have been waiting to pick this up for a very long time but not driving myself and the fact that it won’t fit in a normal car has made this very difficult. BUT thankfully it is now here and I have already started using it.
Perhaps the biggest negative of all is in respect of the recent set of blood tests and the fact that I am still awaiting the results of my Prostate Specific Antigen levels (PSA’s).
For those of you who might have missed my earlier post about this, I have for the past several months been part of a clinical trial trying out new treatment in respect of obesity.
Part of that trial is the regular monthly monitoring of certain things through blood tests – they take about 17 phials (or vials if you prefer) of the stuff out of me each time.
The previous et of results flagged up abnormally high PSA levels and this can indicate the presence of prostate cancer. Added to this is the fact that rectal bleeding is not uncommon to me.
Having had the final set of bloods taken on the 25th (I think it was) of last month they were going to check it out and contact me with the results. But I had heard nothing.
So today I sent a text to Doctor in charge and he messaged me back saying he had been called away but would check them on Monday morning when he returned. This means a few more days of anxious waiting – which is not the best thing for my mental health.
However. I have a faith and that does provide me with a great deal of comfort and I need to focus on that. I am tired and still very much unsettled by the day but I am going to bed to pray and then try to get some sleep.
I do however want to thanks so many folk who have been a great source of encouragement throughout this whole process. You all know who you are but what is more important to me is that you know how precious and valuable you all are.
A schedule defends from chaos and whim. It is a net for catching days. It is a scaffolding on which a worker can stand and labor with both hands at sections of time.
Its an interesting quote and one which holds a lot of wisdom I feel. For those of us who suffer from poor mental health that ‘chaos’ can be a very real threat and a regular and frequent ( and often an uninvited and unwelcome) visitor to our minds and thus our lives.
Order and structure are therefore so very important and certainly order and structure make very poor bedfellows for chaos.
The adoption of my new healthier lifestyle (albeit a somewhat enforced adoption as a result of the potential consequences of not adopting it) seems to be paying dividends both physically and mentally and I am so very pleased about that.
But I have noticed that even with its benefits there are certain things which are starting to become strained and which obviously need addressing.
One thing which has become obvious is a need to be disciplined about my schedule and especially my sleep patterns. I have set myself a goal or target in respect of how much walking I am doing each day and thankfully I have been able to achieve that goal every day so far. BUT it has been very tough.
In order to achieve that goal I need to walk at regular intervals throughout the day and failing to do so has a knock-on effect. 2 days ago I had a very busy day and was very much feeling the effects of the new exercise regime and so lacked motivation. I ended up going for my final walk that day in a very tired and worn out state and much later than usual.
The walk woke me up a little and when I came back from it I played my new Xbox for a few hours before going to bed and waking up much later than usual. This meant I missed my now usual early morning walk and so the same thing happened that day too.
I am feeling the effects of this so much today. I am groggy and lethargic and not feeling well at all, even my mind is not good today and I know it.
The thing is I have for many years been nocturnal in my timetable and changing is very hard. BUT I know that changing is the right thing to do. I need order and structure and I need that schedule and to stick to it. It is the only way I can have the healthier lifestyle and keep that chaos at bay.
So today I am drawing up a schedule and will be trying to keep to it. I will of course not be so rigid or fanatical about it that it controls my life but I will be using it as tool through which I can achieve my goals.
I am also not seeing these recent difficulties as failures but as a part of the learning curve that is natural whenever you start a new project. So despite the way I am feeling today I am still able to be positive in my approach which is a good thing I feel.
I liked the new clarity of thought and the relative peace of mind I was enjoying and I need to do what I can to protect and maintain that.
I woke just before 7 again, washed dressed and took TJ out for a walk around the field. I expected to be in a lot of pain after the way I was feeling the night before but actually and thankfully it was fine and I slept very well too.
This is now our morning routine and will be the time that I get up most mornings from now on I feel. The walk is refreshing and awakening and affords a great time to think and to pray.
Getting home I had my breakfast and then got on with some stuff on the computer.
Then my new book arrived ‘Carbs & Cals & Protein & Fat’. It really is an excellent little book and resource for helping me plan my meals properly and healthily. It basically shows lots of photos of food substances and gives their Carbs, Cal, Protein & Fat Content. (So pretty much what it says on the tin)
This was followed shortly afterwards by my new Xbox360 – an early birthday present from a dear friend. Matthew came round and helped me set this up and then it was time for lunch – which was a light lunch of a couple of sandwiches.
After this I decided to take TJ out for another walk around the field but then my new graphics tablet arrived. I actually surprised myself! Instead of unpacking and playing with my new graphics tablet (which I have wanted for years by the way) I took TJ out for the walk as I had intended and then played with my new toy
The evening was spent simply relaxing and reading through the new book and designing a new meal plan as well as exploring the features on the Xbox360. After that I took TJ out for our night time walk and was in bed by around midnight.
I have to tell you that I am truly liking this new routine (although it does still need some tweaking.) I have even cut out the sugar from my coffees and that is a biggie for me as I dislike the taste of most artificial sweeteners.
Physically..
It is without doubt very tough at times. I wake up refreshed and enjoy the early morning walk but as the day goes by I grow stiffer and stiffer and seem to ache more and more. This makes the walks harder and harder as the day goes by. BUT the reality is that I am desperately morbidly obese and that I do have some major health issues which complicate things.
What I am finding is that I am needing more sleep and so will have to adjust my bedtime to allow for the earlier mornings. But I am seriously loving not being on the computer as much and being out of the house more.
I am also very keen to see how my heart condition and Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome is effected by this and what happens if and when my CFIDS flares up again.
Mentally…
interestingly it is in respect of my mental health where I am finding the most benefit at the moment. I find that I am much more clear minded than I was and this is really helpful.
Additionally I find that I am brighter and more positive which given my bipolar and my paranoid schizophrenia is a big thing. Now I fully accept that this could simply be as a result of the change in routine and the sense that I am actually achieving something in respect of my health and thus could be temporary. But whether it is temporary or longer in term I am grateful for it and am going to make the most of it, using it to build on.
This morning I again awoke just before 7 and again took TJ for a walk. It was raining today – the first morning of rain since I started this new healthier routine/life-style and although the rain did mean that I couldn’t take TJ for a walk round the field – the ground is too bad for that – I still managed the route I usually take during the evenings and am really pleased about that.
This morning I am going to finish designing my new meal plan and then email it off to the dietitian on the team at the hospital and get her feedback on it. I have designed it with both health and economics in mind and so hopefully it will be manageable once I am more financially stable.
I am so keen to turn this all around and to beat this thing and am really enjoying the sense of actually doing things which are much more positive. I do feel very frustrated that I can’t afford to implement my healthy menu at this time but know that this will come in time. So I am very thankful for what changes I have been able to make thus far and will be interested to see the longer term effects of them both physically and mentally.
I woke up this morning before 7am and got up and washed and dressed and then took TJ out for a nice long walk around the field opposite my home before doing anything else.
To be honest that was really tough but I am delighted that i pushed through and managed it.
On coming home I made a couple of small slices of brown toast and then ordered the new artist graphic’s pad which a dear friend is buying for me so I can draw straight onto the computer. I am delighted to be getting one of these as I have been wanting one for many years now.
The post came this morning and I am delighted to be able to report that the new mask for my CPAP machine came and so I should get the full benefit of my CPAP machine from tonight onwards.
I update the website for my old church – it is a committment I decided to keep doing even though I had left that church and then Matthew and Trish came round and we sorted out the spare room (which had basically become a store room) in order to make room for the exercise bike i am borrowing from some other dear friends. Man there was a lot of stuff to sort out.
By the time we had finished this I was feeling so very tired and was worried that by the time I had rested for a bit and had some dinner I would not have the energy to take TJ for another walk tonight. The purpose of these walks are of course to exercise TJ bless him but mainly to help me lose this darned weight and so they are very important.
So I got my shoes on and took TJ for a long walk round the field this afternoon instead of the slightly shorter walk I have planned for the evenings. That way ( I thought) if I am not able for a walk this evening at least I have done the same as I had planned in terms of distance just at a different time.
Coming hoe I rested for a bit and then had a small evening meal before watching some television and then I decided that if I was careful and paced myself I could do a short walk this evening as well. That meaning I would have done three walks today instead of the two and that would be great.
It was a lovely evening and so I did just that but because it was starting to get dark decided not to take the field route but to walk down the road and back instead.
So that is what I have done and I have now designed a route to be taken in the evenings…
I live in a long quiet road which as you can see has a slight incline in it and a couple of cul-de-sacs coming off of it. (Shown on the left) I took this picture from the point where I turned around to come home and my home is almost at the end of this road. On the corner of one of those cul-de-sacs.
So I walk from my house up the incline then around one of the cul-de-sacs (pictured above) until I reach the point I took the first photograph from and then all the way back down the road and round again to the cul-de-sac my house is on the corner of.The I walk round that cul-de-sac (pictured below) and back to my house.
This is a great wa;lk as like the one round the field it taxes me but not to the point of chest pains which of course I need to be careful of.
I realize of course that exercise is just one of the things that I have to do and that my diet needs to change also. But the truth is that eating healthy costs money and that is something I really don’t have at the moment. I need to go out and buy a healthy food for the week but can’t do that until I am a little better off financially.
It frustrates me greatly that this is such an important thing and yet I can’t addreess it yet but there is nothing I can do about that as yet and so I have to be content with what i can deal with right now.
I have started eating a little more healthily and as healthily as I can on an extremely limited budget. I am also waiting for the new book to arrive in order to help me plan meals a lot better. And whilst it is very regrettable that I can’t immediately launch int a healthy diet I know that this will indeed come.
So tonight (very shortly actually) I am going to bed a happier man than I have been for some time. I finally feel as if I am making a difference and might even be winning. Even my m,ental health is better today!
In truth, I ache! I ache in places I never knew I had places and I have little doubt getting up and facing the walk in the morning is going to be tough. BUT I determined that I am going to do it.
I am mindful that I haven’t blogged anything since last Thursday and to be honest that has been because I am still shell-shocked by what I was told at the Hospital that day.
Those of you who have been following this blog and who have read the post “I Can’t Stand To Fly, I’m Not That Naive” will know that I got some very bleak news from the hospital. The truth is that it has come as a bit of a wake up call. Hopefully not too late!
I want to take this opportunity to thank all those who have sent me comments and messages and emails of support and best wishes.
The way I see it I either give in and just wait for the proposed hospital admission and subsequent surgeries or I start the fight for recovery right now. The latter of these options seems the better to me as, in truth, whilst I may be admitted to hospital next week or next month it could just as easily be 6 months or more away as so many factors are involved in this.
LOL the fact that I don’t seem to have much longer than 6 months according to what I am told seems not to be much of a factor in it all. So that is what I am going to do. Start the fight back to recovery now on the grounds that any improvement is better than none.
So this week sees the start of my positive action to beat my health problems. Truth is I should have done this years ago and the deeper truth i that I have done this many times over the past few years.
Living alone has so many benefits for me but I am not blind to the draw backs that also come with it. A lack of accountability is one of them, a lock of motivation is another.
With a family or a partner you have someone on tap who can be there for you when you need them. Someone to spur you on and encourage and motivate you. In truth I do not have that person and in truth I have yet to find anyone reliable enough to provide that support for me.
Many have claimed they will be there and yet have fallen by the wayside. I have hear all sorts of wonderful promises and yet they are all just empty words.
This is not sour grapes talking nor is it my having a pop at anyone. In truth why shouldn’t they have fallen by the wayside? Folk have their own lives and families and I accept that.
The plain simple truth is that I am, on a day to day basis, pretty much alone in this and I need to face that reality and incorporate it into my approach to things.
And incorporating that into my approach is essential if my approach is to be realistic. I will falter and at times I will fail but those times are not important – what is important is how i respond to them and how I pick myself up and carry on. My depression and mental illnesses will no doubt be a factor in all this but I have to be strong.
What is equally important is that I start on a sure footing and so that is what this week is all about for me. So here are the steps I am taking…
Some months back I broke the mask on my CPAP machine and that has meant it hasn’t been functioning properly. Additionally, due to nightmares, about 2 months ago I got all caught up in the air hose in my sleep and pulled the machine onto the floor, rendering the humidifier part inactive. I have been in contact with the suppliers of the CPAP machine they have reprogrammed the humidifier part, increased the pressure and are sending me a new mask. This means that I will get more oxygen into my system thus increasing my energy levels.
I have, thanks to the kindness of a dear friend, ordered a new book entitled, “Carbs & Cals & Protein and Fat” which will aid me in meal planning. The dietitian who is part of the team I saw Thursday showed me it and it really is an excellent and easy to use book.
I have been measured up for a compression stocking for my swollen leg.
I am working on a new meal plan which whilst increases the amount of times I eat, (I tend to only eat once a day and sometimes once every two or three days at the moment) will increase my metabolism and provide me with healthier food.
I have, thanks to another dear friend, gotten access to an exercise bike and a ‘step’ which I can use and my son is arranging transport to bring them round to my house so I can make them a regular feature in my exercise plan.
I am designing a new timetable which will not only include the new meal plan (taking breaks to eat more regularly but also affording me more structure to my day.
I am going to, incorporate within my timetable a lot more – getting out of the house time – and hopefully a better sleep pattern having preset bed-times and waking times and trying to stick to them. The increased exercise and more defined structures to my day should aid in this.
I am going take TJ my dog out for a walk every morning and every evening and I am delighted to be able to say I did both of those today and not just short little walks either! I actually managed long walks.
Here is the area I shall be walking around. I am walking around the outskirts of it. It may not seem much to some but when you are as morbidly obese as I am and suffer from the health conditions I suffer from it really is quite taxing. These photos were taken this morning when TJ and I went for a walk.
Just how successful I will be at this I am not sure but I do know that I am going to give it my best shot.
Earlier I made the statement that, “The plain simple truth is that I am, on a day to day basis, pretty much alone in this and I need to face that reality and incorporate it into my approach to things.”
I want to make it very clear here that I am talking about the fact that I am physically alone most of the time and that I am not discounting the verbal and prayer support that I have already received.
My new church, were very good and prayed with me on Sunday over this health scare and I am very grateful to them for that and the fact that some of the folk there have said they will continue to hold me in prayer. If you have a faith and would like to do that same I would very much appreciate it.
Prayer is such an important thing in life and I recognize that fact. I might be alone on a daily basis and physically and yes indeed this does make it tougher. BUT we are not just physical beings, we are also spiritual beings and I know that my Savour is also with me daily.
As a Christian it is sometimes a simple thing to dismiss the threat of death – 1 Corinth 15:55 “”Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” (NIV) with the assurance of where we are going through Christ. But being a Christian is not only about eternity and what comes after life on this earth. It is also what we do whilst on this earth and I am convinced that He has a plan for me and that plan includes the here and now.
There comes in life sometimes things that make you sit up and take notice. Things that challenge your hope and faith even. Sometimes they sneak up on you and other times they are kind of expected but even then they can knock you for six.
Today was just one such day when this happened.
The day started well with my journey up country to my hospital treatment being really enjoyable. Instead of my being one of 14- 16 patients crammed in a hospital transport minibus I was the only one.
As can be seen from this photo (that I snapped en-route) it was a glorious day and being the only patient travelling meant I got to sit up front and talk with Jimmy the driver.
Jimmy is a typical Irishman and fascinating conversationalist and I really enjoyed his company.
These visits are a regular monthly visit and I go to take part in a clinical trial and for weight management. I have struggled with morbid obesity for years now and the effect that it already has on my existing heart conditions has always been a huge concern.
The clinical trial, or at least my part in it finished today and I get the full results of it in a couple of weeks but we have already decided that I will (subject to anything major showing up in the final results) continue with the treatment which will now change so that it can be self administered.
Worryingly my LDL levels were elevated which I have to keep a check on but even more concerning my PSA levels (Prostrate Specific Antigen) levels are very high. Apparently these are the levels which indicate the possibility of prostate cancer.
Now I was told not to worry too much about these at this time as more tests were done today as part of the clinical trial which ended today and that will give us a truer and more up to date reading. (Yeah right telling a paranoid schizophrenic not to worry is like telling an injured haemophiliac not to bleed). But I shall do my best not to focus on it too much.
Thankfully, but not really thankfully at all, I was then given other stuff to worry about by the other team members I saw.
It seems the problem with my heart condition and my weight is now very concerning and they want me to consider going into hospital for treatment for six weeks and then having surgery or surgeries at the end of it. Being seriously sick and morbidly obese makes the normal avenues of fighting weight gain so very difficult and removes limits your options somewhat. So part of the treatment is to address my weight and to get me at last healthy enough for the surgery or surgeries that have been needed for a while now.)
The ‘it is entirely your choice but if you don’t you have to accept the seriousness of your heart condition and the situation and that you could be dead within 6 months’ was just a little disconcerting. As was the sincerity and seriousness of the discussion and facial expressions during said discussion.
Now I have to be honest here. Part of me is extremely worried and kind of scared by all this.
But the greater part of me is at peace over it.
As a rule, since this s primarily a mental health blog, I tend to keep matters concerning my faith pretty much low key on here but sometimes things are so serious that you just have to be fully open and who you are.
I am a Christian and I have faith in Christ and in my heavenly Father and from that the assurance that is provided. To borrow the words of Paul from Philippians 1:21 “For me to live is Christ and to die is gain.”
I am – despite the appearances you may gain from my online candor and openness – a very private person. So the thought of being stuck in hospital, in a ward full of people, for 6 weeks is almost as unsettling the whole surgery thing. I hate hospitals and have a morbid fear of them, surgery and dentists.
At this time the only decision I had to make today was whether I would be willing to be put onto a list in readiness for this hospitalization and treatment and subsequent surgery/surgeries. Not actually to commit to anything other than being put on that list and so this I have consented to do.
We are, I am convinced, spiritual beings in as much as their is a spiritual aspect to all life and especially to us as humans. I therefore have the power of prayer on my side and to be perfectly candid – seeing as over two years ago I was told my heart could give way at anytime and I am still here – I do have some confidence in my ability to beat this thing. And yes I am aware of the seriousness of the situation and no I am not being guilty of post hoc ergo propter hoc here.
I am scared and I am worried. Not about where I will go or even what comes after the here for I am at peace over that. But how I get there or rather how I stop being here, what happens to those I will leave behind, and how to be all I can be and fight this thing in the mean time does worry and scare me somewhat.
Some days ago now I wrote a piece called, “I don’t wear my underpants on the outside” in which I was saying that we need to afford ourselves the right and the freedom to be human and weak and imperfect.
This piece comes so clearly to my mind right about now and something else has been going through my mind all day too. We, I, am human not superhuman.
Many moons back, one of my Kids – Trevor, (who possibly knows more than any of my kids what I am going through with my weight problems and heart problems since he too has had to face similar things) introduced me to a group called ‘Five for Fighting’ and one of their songs – Superman – has been going through my mind ever since I wrote that piece and especially ever since my hospital visit earlier today.
So I leave you will that song and I hope you really enjoy it. I am, we are human and we, I, have every right to be human with all the weakness, imperfectness and vulnerability that comes with it.
I am determined to fight this and in the mean time to accept that I am not superhuman but to do so with the sure knowledge that no matter how human, how weak, how imperfect, how vulnerable I may be. I do not fight this alone.
Somethings are desperately uncomfortable to talk about aren’t they?
Like traumas supposedly buried in our pasts, or when you are tragically hurt by someone, or a lie you are forced to live because other’s just won’t understand.
I think Paranoia, Guilt and Insecurity can be some of the things that we find hard to talk about, or at least I do. But I am at the moment in a terrible slump – amidst the nothingness as I put it – and so now is possibly a good time to talk about these things.
Paranoia. Yes I suffer from paranoia. Really bad paranoia at times and no I don’t often talk about it.
Why don’t I talk about it? Well there are numerous reasons really. Some you might understand even agree with and some you might think are just weird. And hey ho that is ok. We are all entitled to our own opinions.
One reason is that I don’t want people walking on eggshells around me. I want to be treated for the me I am mostly not the freaked out weird me that happens every now and then. And before my inbox is flooded with folk challenging me or reprimanding me for the “freaked out” and “weird” labels above, I understand how wrong and unhealthy they are but I also know how very real those self-applied labels are to me at times.
Another reason is that I don’t want to feed into anyone else’s insecurities of paranoia. Trust me it can happen.
Thirdly I don’t want other to use my paranoia or mental health as an excuse to justify or excuse their bad behaviour and yes that can happen a lot as well.
The last reason, (or at least the last one I can think of at this time) is that as a Christian I am always concerned about seemingly being a bad witness. A fear which is often fed into by well-meaning but extremely harmful Christians who ask such questions as “do you think it could be demon-possession?” or “is there something wrong with your faith do you think?”
And if anyone is out there thinking yeah that is how I always thought of it, let me share the words of Matthew 4:24 from the KJV with you…
“And his (Jesus) fame went throughout all Syria: and they brought unto him all sick people that were taken with divers diseases and torments, and those which were possessed with devils, and those which were lunatick, and those that had the palsy; and he healed them.”
In the above passage there are 6 different types of illnesses here and a distinct difference is made between ‘demon possession’ and the others including ‘lunatic’ which is to say ‘moonstruck’ or as we would say nowadays – those who have mental illness. (Thayers also suggests that this could also mean the epileptic although it state this is dubious)
But no matter what reason I have for my seldom discussing my paranoia, the fact is that it is a very real and frequent part of my mental health and thus my life.
And paranoia is not a stand alone condition in as much as it never just stops at the paranoia. It creates further damage and damage that seeps into so many other aspects of your life.
And it often undermines and fractures what little stability you have.
Insecurity is one of the spin-offs of paranoia.
It can be cancerous in it’s effects and can damage and harm your perceptions and understandings and even more than that it can cause behaviours and responses which can so seriously and detrimentally impact your relationships.
Anyone who has, despite their best efforts, reacted badly as a result of a severe bout of paranoia will know the intense and extremely disturbing sensation of being left naked, judged and vulnerable as a result of that reaction and the fear of how those who have witnessed it are now going to treat you.
Which brings me to the last of this trinity of torment that of guilt.
Guilt. Along with that insecurity – that naked vulnerability and fear I spoke about above comes the guilt. Guilt which can plague you and eat away at you.
Guilt in and of itself is not a bad thing. It’s function is to motivate change. It’s unpleasantness is designed to cause us to address, repair or right any wrong that we may have done. And having done so that guilt no longer serves any positive purpose and thus should be got rid of.
But what if your mind will not let go of it? What if that paranoia, that insecurity, continue to fuel that guilt?
I have written about how harmful guilt can be in my post entitled Guilt-Edged Bonds and it really is something that I and I know many folk who suffer from paranoia struggle with.
When I do something wrong I want to make amends for it. To right that wrong. To face the consequences if you will. It is a big thing for me and I am sure I am not alone in this. I think it is all wrapped up in a deep desire to not allow my illnesses to have that much control or impact on my relationships coupled with an equally deep desire to not be treated ‘differently’ as a result of those illnesses.
So there you have it. A trinity of torments that so many of us can so easily go through.
In the slump, the nothingness that I wrote of the other day, this is the next phase it seems – the torments.
There are, for me personally, fewer times when I sense potential harm (other than of course when the suicidal thoughts and tendencies try to take over) as greatly as when the nothingness comes.
The nothingness (as I call it) is a barren wasteland devoid of emotions and feelings, energy and motivation. It is an emptiness.
It is a land where all the colour of life is suddenly bleached away and it is a land I can somehow sometimes fall into without warning.
It is also a land I fell into Sunday evening and which I seem to have remained in ever since.
In truth I had a fairly good weekend. Saturday I spent some time working around the house, blogging and reading and felt perfectly fine.
Sunday I went to church and thoroughly enjoyed the worship there. Afterwards the friend I was with did a little shopping with her daughter and I accompanied them.
This of course gave me an opportunity to generally make fun, crack jokes and be slightly mischievous – as is often my way – (it is one of the ways in which I cope) and we had a good time.
Sunday afternoon and early evening was also spent with them (and the rest of their family). Plus some old friends from the church I used to attend also came over and again it was an enjoyable time.
Sadly, as can sometimes happen, there was one statement (which was made in total innocence) which launched my paranoia into apoplexy (figuratively speaking that is) but even then I thought and felt like I was having a good time.
Coming home I still felt fine and indeed, despite the fact that I was so incredibly tired, I read some emails, caught up on some blogs and then suddenly just sat looking at my screen as everything seemed to have drained from me.
It was the nothingness. This colourless, grey, barren, wasteland. No feelings, no emotions, just an emptiness. A void.
And that nothingness has remained ever since. Well almost remained.
For the mind, or at least my mind, doesn’t like nothingness. It can’t cope with it. Has to fill it and it chooses to fill it with unsafe or harmful thoughts.
Will I respond to these thoughts? I seriously doubt it (although certainly I have the means to do so). But no. What I need to do is to just survive this latest barrenness this latest slump.
I woke up early on Saturday – having not slept at all really – and things did not look good at all. Even the process of getting up was laborious and taxing and I recognized almost instantly that my CFIDS was kicking my butt once again.
Having been so ill for a weeks now, with whatever infection I had contracted this time around, I was hoping that my CFIDS would not ‘come a calling’ for a while. But of course it did.
Actually the day turned out to be one of both positives and negatives.
When you suffer from an illness like CFIDS (Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome) or CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) and you know that it is kicking your butt you have to exercise some caution and some sense. You need to do things as and when you are able, knowing that quite probably you won’t be able to do them later on.
So in the morning I did a little blogging and then broke from it to go into town briefly around midday in order to get some provisions – thanks to my son being able to drive me in.
Coming home I managed to put those provisions away, prepare a meal to cook later and then finish the blog piece I was writing before then collapsing in an armchair and just resting up.
Later that afternoon a friend from church turned up with her kids and that really lifted my day I enjoy good company and love those kids and so it was a delight to see them all.
As good as the visit from friends was, it also tired me out some and so I just rested up once they had left.
Actually I rested up for a good few hows and it was quite late before I could even consider going and turning on the stove in order to cook the meal I had prepared earlier.
Emotionally I was quite upbeat but physically I was drained and mentally I was on rocky ground. I have been that way for a while now mentally.
Deciding that my meal would now be cooked I went and served it up, grabbed a glass of coke and made my way back to the armchair to eat. (Often I will eat at the kitchen table but when my CFIDS is this bad even sitting at the table is too much for me and so the armchair was favourable.)
And then it happened. Sitting eating my meal I reached for my glass of coke, lifted it and then immediately dropped it smashing the glass and spilling the coke all over the place.
This one simple accident crashed my mental health through the floor and I sat there like a quivering wreck. Tears flowed and my appetite disappeared. I was more despondent than I was frustrated and I just sat there not knowing what to do and not having the energy to do anything about it even if I had wanted to.
My son is a very active busy guy who does a lot for the local youth in this area and Saturday evening would not be a good time to call him so I just sat there known that I had to pull myself out of this somehow.
Experience has taught me that when my metal health goes off the rails like that I am sometimes able to prevent it from crashing even further (and even able to rescue it) if I distract it and try to refocus it on something.
I sent my niece a message on Viber to see how she was doing and soon learned from her hubby that she had gone into labour and was in hospital. I was delighted! This baby was so very important to them as a couple and has been the focus of many a prayer lately.
The news was enough to stop my mental health from crashing any further. That particular niece is more like a daughter to me and I wanted to be able to be there for her and her hubby (albeit on the end of text messages).
4.16 Sunday morning baby was born (no name ahs been announced as yet) a beautiful 7lbs 12 ounce boy and what is more baby, mother, and father are all fine
Yay! Welcome to the world Grand Nephew!
Sunday (despite my tiredness and weakness) I managed to get to church in Wexford thanks to the help of a friend and even managed to spend the afternoon in fellowship. But had to come home relatively early as I had been having chest pains all day and needed to take some meds. Not to mention the fact that I was fit to drop I was so weak and so tired.
The news of baby’s arrival and the ability to spend the morning in church and the afternoon and early evening in good company has lifted me mentally and I feel fairly stable again.
Even coming home, feeding the dog and wearily climbing into bed only to find that the television in bedroom had broken and wouldn’t even turn on wasn’t enough to detail my mental health again. I simply played some music on my laptop and went to sleep.
The post I had written on Saturday (not the funny word one I had written previously in my drafts and published that day) but the one on not being too harsh or expecting too much from yourself, had been a timely post for me and a good reminder.
Today I know I am still a little fragile mentally but am determined to stay focussed and not be too critical of myself. Four or five days ago (May 9th) I wrote a piece on ‘Signs of things not being right‘ in which I recognized that things were not as good as I had thought they were in respect of my current or recent mental health.
I need to remember this and to recognize that I am still in that place and still coming out of that place and trying to improve things. Having the right and a healthy perspective on things is important and I need to remember that and to see things clearly.
Today I am going to rest up some and to take things clearly and orderly. This is my mental health and I have both the responsibility and the right to protect and improve it. So the next few days are not just going to be about damage limitation they are going to be about recovery.
Confused thoughts, lapses in concentration, inability to focus, psychotic episodes. These are all common to my mental health and have been for years.
Can I claim that I am generally on top of them and able to manage well probably not but I can claim that I generally do cope quite well and that thankfully these all do seem to be episodic rather than continuous in my case.
Of course sometimes they come in pairs or all together and sometimes it is hard to differentiate between them.
To make it slightly more confusing and even more fun (not) I have several medical conditions some of which share the same or similar symptomatology and thus I am often unable to determine which medical condition is causing a medical symptom when it flares up or becomes more extreme.
I am of course not alone in any of these and I am sure that many readers will relate to what I am saying in respect of either the psychiatric side of things, the medical side of things or both.
Interestingly, I didn’t actually see one of the on-duty psychiatrists (that’s how it works over here in Ireland it seems, or at least the part I live in, you never see the same psychiatrist just whoever is on duty at that time) but instead saw the Consultant.
It seems that the Consultant reviews patients treatments on a regular basis and this time it was my turn. “Bonus” I thought. [I confess to being able to have little to no confidence in seeing a different psychiatrist each and every time.]
But he took one look at me and realized things were not good. Several minutes later and he and I were talking and whilst he hadn’t heard of the Johnson and Johnson fine did have major concerns about be having been on Risperdal in the first place. HIs comment, “I am changing you from Risperdal to Abilify as you should never have been on Risperdal in the first place”, did I have to admit, concern me somewhat.
But what concerned me even more were his facial and verbal expressions when he realized from my file that I had a serious heart condition and was on Effexor. “What on earth are you doing on Effexor? No one should be on Effexor and especially on that much with a heart condition such as yours.” really was quite disconcerting. HE has therefore taken me off of Effexor and put me on Cymbalta.
So in terms of my Psychiatric ailments I have a new drugs regime to follow and will of course have to go through the whole weaning on and finding the right dosage process.
But I have to confess that I am relieved as I have been very concerned about how dark my thoughts have been lately and also about my additional withdrawal from things and people and also the way I have been responding to situations. (Although I have tried to keep this in check I promise.)
In terms of my medical ailments well just as with my mental health my physical health also poses some confusion with cross over symptomatology etc. And certainly this has been the case for a few weeks now. I have a serious heart condition – one which means my heart does not work anywhere as effectively as the average joe’s and I also have Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome and on top of this I have both problems sleeping and Severe Obstructive Sleep Apnea.
All of these conditions can lead to (among other things) a feeling of tiredness and fatigue and so when I came down will extreme fatigue some weeks back I simply put it down to one of these.
When they continued but were then accompanied with general viral infection come flu-like symptoms, I loaded up with general over-the-counter meds and thought that it would solve it. But although they did at first seem to be responding, they soon came back with a vengeance.
So today (several weeks of over-the-counter meds later) since I was due to go into town to see my Psychiatrist anyway, I thought I would make an appointment with my Doctor.
The good news is that I was right I did have some sort of viral infection but the bad news is that it was pretty severe and so over-the-counter meds wouldn’t touch it.
I have now, however got a prescription for my new psychiatric meds and a course of strong antibiotics designed to attack the infection along with two or three other things designed to manage or at least reduce the symptoms.
Were some of the medical symptoms down to my normal stuff? Without doubt, but the severity of them is no doubt down to the added viral infection.
I can honestly say, and feel able to admit now, that I have for some weeks now been totally confused by what has been going on with me both mentally and physically. But more importantly I do at last feel that today I have some clarity amidst the confusion.
Today my mind is thinking about impressions and images. About relationships and understandings, or the lack of them or the wrong understandings. Misunderstandings if you will.
About how we see each other.
If you are looking for a good, light-hearted film which will make you laugh whilst also high-lighting some very real social issues then “Inside I’m Dancing” (Also latterly known as, or entitled in the USA I think as ‘Rory O’Shea Was Here’) is one that i would very much recommend.
I got it some years ago now and am more than happy it forms a part of my DVD collection.
But the real reason I like it so much, apart from the entire storyline, excellent humor and great fun factor, is that it I find it to be inspiring.
Set in Dublin here in the country I have grown to love and call home – Ireland – and focusing mainly on the lives and friendship of two lads who are disabled and the way they impact and challenge each other’s lives, it challenges me also.
My own disabilities are not so obvious but certainly they are there. Some are physical and some mental and certainly they – especially the mental ones – which I try to hide as best I can sometimes get the better of me and become very visible and noticeable at times.
It is, in my experience, these times which often leave a lasting impression and which can seriously affect and even change our relationships with people isn’t it? Trust me, even in a loving church who are aware that you have mental health difficulties, when those difficulties start showing themselves you might as well turned up to church naked.
Because it can feel like that can’t it? When your all of a sudden the poor mental health you have ben trying to keep at bay or at very least keep controlled, becomes so very evident.
You can feel like you suddenly you have become naked and vulnerable and exposed. Either when it happens or, if you have disconnected during it, immediately afterwards when you become aware of it. How people react to it, how they let it affect their relationship with you can so seriously add to those feeling can’t it?
The thing is that my poor mental health and how it affects me are a part of me and I freely accept that BUT they are not all of me nor are they even the biggest part of me.
Even during those times, those times when my poor mental health and resultant struggles and difficulties and behaviour do appear to be the biggest part of me, I am still me and I am still there somewhere behind the chaos and confusion or the blankness or the darkness that you first see.
And do you know what?
Somewhere deep down inside is the real me, the free me, the healed me. And do you know what? He is happy, he is carefree and he is able to be naked, to dance around naked and without a care in the world.
So to all those folk who have witnessed my bad times, and who mainly remember the chaos or the confusion or the blankness or the darkness which sometimes smothers or imprisons me. Just remember this.
Some because they are designed that way and some because we fail to see beyond that which is first presented to us or because we are (IMHO) prone, as a species, to making assumptions.
Perhaps I am just cynical and certainly I accept that not everyone makes assumptions and yet so many folk do seem to don’t they?
‘Functioning’ is one such area in which, in my opinion, so many assumptions are often drawn and all too often drawn in error.
Being high-functioning implies (and yes this is a deliberate simplification) that you are able to cope or to function within social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning quite adequately despite your condition.
To all intents and purposes I am considered to be ‘high-functioning’. Whilst it is true that I am not able to work, that inability to work is mainly as a result of my physical health and not my mental health.
I am, for the most part, extremely articulate and do actually socialize from time to time – generally within a church based environment as a result of my personal faith – and indeed many people who know me would not consider me to have any obvious mental health difficulties.
The trouble is of course that I do and the trouble is that whilst to all intents and purposes I am high-functioning in some areas there are areas in which I don’t function well at all. Areas which folk don’t often see and which, as a result of my apparent high-functioning in other areas, are not only seldom considered but which when they do become apparent folk find hard to understand given how well I function or cope in other areas.
I am an avid writer – writing both novels and poetry and magazine articles and the such and I author several blogs. I used to, up until last year, teach creative writing I fix computers (although I do less of that nowadays as a result of my health etc). I sing and for years led worship in my local church. I design and maintain websites. I draw and paint and sculpt and taught art for some time and am scheduled to do so again soon.
So when friends and family consider what I do they consider me to be extremely high functioning and indeed even my psychiatrists have commented on how well I seem to be coping.
The difficulty is of course that ‘seeming to be coping’ and actually coping are two different things entirely and all this comes at a cost and takes a lot more effort for me than for most folk. Effort which I, and I am fairly confident a lot of others in similar positions to me, hide and try not to let people see.
We want to be high-functioning or at least adequately functioning don’t we? We need to be high-functioning, adequately functioning, coping.
It is inbuilt to seek to ‘get better’, to cling to evidence that we are indeed ‘getting better’ or at very least ‘managing as best we can’.
Additionally isn’t it equally important to many of us that we are not a ‘burden’ to others or that we don’t cause concern or worry for others? But in so doing are we creating a rod for our own back? Are we feeding the very difficulties that others have in understanding the difficulties we experience with or as a result of our poor mental-health?
Is there a price of being high-functioning? Yes, I am convinced that there is. Whilst I accept that some of that is down to my own actions or my inability to show or share what I am truly going through sometimes, I think a great deal of that price is the loneliness and the feeling that folk really don’t understand which often results from my lack of sharing and other people’s assumptions.
Well I did manage to spend some time out of bed today and also managed to do a couple of things around the house.
Although not as much as I would have liked and I also managed to write some more of the book.
Not an easy task when your mind is getting progressively worse as the day passes and when your fingers are feeling the cold.
And I have to say boy were they cold and Man did it suddenly get cold here today! Although thankfully the threatened snow has not yet arrived.
The day started off enjoyable but the voices were at me a little this morning.
By the end of the day, (Which is when I am writing this) they are just constantly at me and affording me no respite.
But that is how, well for me at least, they seem to operate sadly and it seems so very hard to get people to understand that. Something happens and the voices which are there but no aggressively so, seem to change character and intent and they become very vocal and very aggressive in their approach.
So I find myself still fatigued and indeed now mentally fried not to mention also being somewhat disheartened yet again.
Still tomorrow is another day and I at least have the relative sanctity of my bed to look forward to tonight and hopefully a little warmth as well.
Spending so much time in bed gives your mind time to think doesn’t it? That is of course if the time in bed is waking time and not sleeping time.
Yesterday, part of that time was spent thinking about my own and other people’s different approaches and attitudes to medication.
Some of these approaches and attitudes I relate to so very much, others I see as being understandable and yet others I have to admit strike me as being a little cavalier even reckless.
I guess if I am honest I have a kind of BiPILLar Disorder often fluctuating from one extreme to the other in respect of the meds that I have to take.
Sometimes I recognize them for what they are – essential and liberating even and yet at other times I see them as anything but liberating.
And subsequently I therefore really resent them and loathe having to take the darn things and yes ( I will be honest here) even end up not taking them.
(LOL as you can see being in bed so much also gave me time to play with some graphics and animations)
Add to this the question of your acceptability and how people see you as being on and off your meds.
And let’s not fail to recognize the duplicitous nature of this. “That can’t really be what I am like?” versus the “Well even if it is, don’t I have a right to be loved and accepted for who I truly am and not just the chemically altered version of me?”
The truth is of course that meds do have different functions.
Some of them I have to take, according to the specialists, in order to stay alive or to extend my life span. (Which of course poses its own problems since often I am so depressed that extending my life span is counter-intuitive and this therefore affects my willingness to take those meds.)
Others – both physiologically and psychologically based medications – are designed to simply improve my quality of life.
Whilst yet others are intended not so much to improve my quality of life as they are to simply allow me to function.
Especially some of the psychologically based ones it seems. Without which my brain often doesn’t function anywhere near where I need to be and sometimes even seems to stall.
So on the face of it both physically and mentally these meds range from beneficial to essential and how good or bad I am about taking them really does affect me.
In fact I adapted these graphics into a chart that I am seriously thinking of printing off and placing on a t-shirt so that people can see where I am in respect of taking my meds.
The trouble is that I am meant to take a considerable amount of them every day and it gets so very tedious doesn’t it?
You get to feel that the constant need to take medication is somehow de-humanizing you or at very least making you somehow less-organic and that you are becoming just one collection of different medications.
This of course can feed into a desire to be well and healthy independent from or at very least less dependant on that medication.
And there is another consideration here isn’t there?…
The plain simple fact of the matter is that no matter how good or experienced our doctors or psychiatrists may be, when you consider such variables as…
The level of demand being placed upon physical and mental health care professionals nowadays.
The limited amount of time that they have available for each patient/client.
The shere volume of different medications and pharmaceuticals out there.
The differing physiology of each individual patient.
they can’t possibly fully know how these meds are affecting us. So we feel justified in taking things into our own hands. And after all isn’t it entirely right that we have a say in the management of our own medication?
But there within lies the problem I feel.
Do I agree that we should have that say in the management of our own medication? Yes absolutely BUT [and like mine it is a very big BUT ] that say must be both educated, informed and totally objective.
If we truly want a say in the management of our own medication, and I believe we should, all of the factors above – including our own tendencies, character quirks, likes, dislikes, mental conditions, weakness and even deluded thinking – should, in my opinion, be taken into consideration not just the limitations of our psychiatrists and doctors and not just our desires.
Well I have finally given in and agreed to spend the day in bed. It is something I actively avoid like the plague as it reminds me of how bad my health can get sometimes and I personally believe – rightly or wrongly depending on which specialist you listen too – that fighting my CFIDS by pushing through the fatigue is more advisable than giving into my body’s desire for rest.
So, armed with a good book to read – ‘The Trouble with Alex ( A Child too Damaged)’ by Melanie Allen, for when I can muster up enough energy to actually hold something as immensely heavy as a paperback book (Sarcasm I know but hey it helps me through) plus my Netflix subscription and a DVD or three, I am ensconced in my bed all set for a lazy day.
The first DVD of choice this morning was ‘Fry’s Planet Word’ in which Stephen Fry looks at language.
As a writer and blogger I love language and so I was really keen on seeing this DVD and it is one I have been ‘stock piling’ for just such an inevitable occasion of having time to spare and no energy to go with it.
I have to tell you, even the opening statement of this DVD fascinated me and encouraged me greatly.
“Hello. You know just saying that one word is one of the most complex and extraordinary operations we know. 70 muscles and half a billion brain cells go into it.”
Isn’t that staggering! LOL here I am fatigued and frankly a little fed up, hardly able to move a single muscle without pain or extreme effort and just by saying hello I can move 70 muscles!
I am so tempted to spend the morning saying ‘Hello’ to TJ my dog, and faithful companion, one hundred times. Just so next time I see my physiotherapist I can proudly (if not a little deceptively) announce that I had moved 7,000 muscles in one morning alone.
The fact that it was the same 70 muscles one hundred times and them all being in my jaw/head being something that I might neglect to mention
But what is more encouraging to me, however, is the fact that despite the struggles that I, and indeed many of us face, with regard to our mental health I can still cause half a billion of my brain cells to function properly and in so doing say “hello”!
Isn’t that wonderful? And yes I realize that this, in some ways, qualifies me as an eternal optimist.
(Oh, and by the way. It occurs to me that if someone ever claims to be an ‘eternal pessimist’ you might want to just point out to them that even acknowledging that there is such a thing as ‘eternity’ is ‘optimistic’ in itself and thus perhaps they aren’t as pessimistic as they might believe. LOL)
But then can’t we all benefit from looking at and seeing things a little differently sometimes?
Life is beautiful, wonderful, inspirational, precious and amazing in so many different ways and no matter how much richness and color our mental health may rob from our perception of life sometimes there is one simple basic truth that I guarantee you.
The life of your family, your friends, your neighbors and those around you would have less richness and less color if you weren’t a part of it.
Sometimes that is hard for us to see that truth and yes, I have to be honest here since it has taken me hours to even type this, I struggle to see that myself sometimes. But how about today we all dare to think outside the box?
Even the box our poor mental health tries to confine us too?
How about today we reach out, from the things that seek to confine us and suppress or even oppress us and dare to be free! Free to reach out and say “Hello world, I am still here and still fighting!” and to do so by bringing some magic into our own lives and the lives of those around us.
“Um. Hello. Hello.” The voice on the telephone sounded somehow urgent. “Is there anyone there?”
“Yes I am here.” Came the cool, calm, and collected response from the attendant. “How can I help you?”
“Oh. Good.” the caller replied. “Is that The Cube? The most secure mental asylum in the country?”
“Yes it is.” the attendant responded. “How can we help you?”
“This is very important.” The caller advised him. “I need you to go to cell 13 and then come back and tell me what you see.”
“I am sorry?” The mystified attendant replied. “You want me to what?”
“Trust me there’s no time to explain.” The caller insisted urgently. “You have to go to cell 13 and then come back and tell me what you see.”
Totally surprised by the demand and somewhat alarmed by the caller’s insistence and the urgency in the caller’s tone the attendant quickly laid the telephone handset on the desk and rushed off to do as he was told.
Many moments later and many doors unlocked and relocked then unlocked and relocked once again, the now somewhat panicky and out of breath attendant picked up the telephone handset.
“I, I, I don’t understand it.” Stuttered the breathless attendant. “It, it’s impossible but Cell 13 is completely empty and the cell door has been left wide open.”
“Oh good.” Came the now calm and reassured voice of the caller. “That means I have escaped.”
Ok so it is an old joke and one that will no doubt evoke different reactions in different readers.
Some, who have heard it or a version of it before, may simply groan and say, “that old chestnut” or something along those lines.
Others, who perhaps have not heard it before or even those who have, may find the talk of mental asylums and even the whole premise of the joke disturbing perhaps even offensive. I assure you I did not intend for it to be.
Some of course, might find it amusing.
Yet others, and certainly I would be prone to this kind of response, might not only experience one of the aforementioned reactions but then also go on to analyze it further.
The caller is calling ‘the cube’ – a place which both he (or she) refered to, and which the attendant confirmed, as being, “the most secure mental asylum in the country.”
The caller is obviously calling from somewhere else other than ‘the cube’. We know this as a result of the need to confirm that they had actually got through to someone in ‘the cube’.
Furthermore the caller, from their final response of “Oh good. That means I have escaped.”, must have been the occupant of Cell 13 and since they were calling from somewhere else other than ‘the cube’ surely they should have already known they had escaped.
Ah but that’s the part that I can relate to so well. Even in the face of the obvious there is an inability or perhaps an unwillingness to believe.
No matter what your reaction to the old joke maybe and certainly I do understand all of the reactions I listed above isn’t there some truth in the joke? You may be repelled by the circumstances in the joke or even the inference of the joke but does that remove or negate the truth contained within?
I have mental health problems and like the caller in the joke I have real trouble accepting or believing the obvious sometimes. What is more, whilst the joke may present a more extreme situation than thankfully a lot of us experience, I am fairly certain that I am not alone in having difficulties accepting or believing the obvious…
That I really can be loved.
That I am worth loving.
That I can still contribute something to society despite all my medical and psychological flaws, difficulties, and/or conditions.
That I am able to achieve despite all the negative arguments from all the neigh-sayers that are so keen to warn against trying.
The fact of the matter is that I am convinced that if we take a little time to step back and look objectively at our lives, even in the midst of all our mental or physical health challenges, there are victories that we have already won. It is these victories, I believe, that are the nuts and bolts or the rivets and studs that hold our armour together against future attacks and which can give us the motivation and the confidence to go on and to attempt and subsequently to achieve more things.
Recognizing and acknowledging those victories is therefore important and essential.
I am of course not recommending that we ignore all advice which tells us to be cautious or to take it easy or to exercise wisdom in what we attempt. Without doubt some of that advice is both wise and beneficial but working out where it is coming from, how credible it is and indeed which advice we should or shouldn’t listen to can certainly help us.
An excellent example of this – in my own situation – is in respect of my poor, all too absent memory and the echoing advice that I have received to simply ‘let it go’ and ‘not to try to recover’ for those memories not currently available to me.
“Your mind has probably forgotten them or suppressed them for a reason” has been the suggestion made by several people including psychiatrists. “Perhaps it is better therefore to just ‘let it go’ and ‘not to try to recover’ those memories.
I refuse to live that way and I likewise I refuse to be defeated by this. Those memories are important to me if i am going to retrace and rebuild and to understand my mental health and its effects on me. Likewise, being able to retain future memories is also very important to me.
So in response to this, the other day I started a new blog on which I am going to record past events in my life as and when they come to me and today I managed to write out one such event.
Will this potentially place me in a position where I have to face my own demons? Yes I have no doubt it will but you know what? I have faced them before and survived to tell the tale. How’s that for recognizing and using those past victories!
Was it a good memory? Well yes actually it was amusing to rethink it and remember it even if it did then lead onto somewhat darker thoughts.
“Without illness would we truly appreciate good health?” is a saying that comes to mind and which I have often said in the past. Those dark thoughts were present certainly but were put into context by the victory that I felt I had achieved in the process.
It has been a good day today and I am extremely thankful. In respect of my health I am still just as fatigued as before and I still have this darn flu. But it hasn’t beaten me or debilitated me. I managed to redesign this appearance of this blog, to a much more appealing design I think. I managed to write some more to the book. I managed to update some websites. I managed to re-face past events and to do so without crashing into a more depressive state.
I am incredibly tired, now but just as thankful and I am tired.
Tomorrow is another day and another chance to claim more ground in my journey towards wellness!
I wonder if that is a term that you ever consider, or if not that exact term whether you ever consider that kind of behaviour?
Do you see it in others? Do you see it on yourself? Are you able to recognize it in others much quicker or far easier than you recognize it in yourself?
Are you ever guilty of self-destructive behaviour? Is it something you only seem to recognize in hindsight?
I found this t-shirt over on zazzle.co.uk and do you know what? I truly think all of my clothes need to be fitted with a self-destruct button. Heck it would be a lot quicker and much more humane than some of the slower more painful and protracted methods I seem to employ in order to partially self-destruct.
Do you ever feel yourself slipping into a depressive episode and yet fail to do anything about it? Perhaps it is that you are already too far gone to care or to lethargic or depressed to be able to get motivated?
Do you ever see yourself approaching a manic episode and again do nothing about it. Perhaps the mania has already started to take hold and it is a forgone conclusion.
As a child I think I had a Scalextric™ set. I say I think I do as my memory of my childhood is pretty sparse but if I didn’t I am sure either my older or younger brother did and even if they and I didn’t I do know that my son Matthew had one and possibly a Total Control Racing™ car set.
They are great fun – cars whizzing around a plastic track at high speeds. I remember Matthew having a Rover police car with flashing lights and siren sounds. Hm I wonder if I actually bought it for him or just as an excuse to give me something to play with? Nah I am sure it was for him (mainly lol).
The thing is that there was a level of certain predictability with both of those racing car sets. That predictability being that if your car was going too fast when you hit a chicane, a crossover, or a turning it would inevitably fly off the track.
And here’s thew strange thing about it. So many of us (and I very much include myself in this) even thought we are fully aware of that inevitability often failed to slow down in readiness!
It was as if either we just got too caught up in the race and the determination to beat the person we were racing or we simply defied the odds and thought that ‘this time’ we could get away with it.
Of course we almost never did ‘get away with it’. Not that that taught us anything, (well not me at least).
But the sad thing is that I have to confess that in so many ways that Scalextric™ Track and even more sadly my approach to it, is very much like my mental and even my physical health and the way I approach it.
For a couple of weeks now I have been battling with this flu and seem unable to shift it. I have felt so very tired and fatigued. My CFIDS is kicking my butt once again and on top of all that I have been experiencing dizzy spells.
Additionally I have noticed that my mental health has been getting progressively worse – just like it does immediately before I enter into an episode and yet I am still pushing myself and doing too much.
I don’t know what it is about me that makes me do this? I do know that I dislike being sick and inactive for any length of time – which given my health is something that I can’t avoid. And perhaps this has something to do with it.
But the truth is that I know that when it comes to my mental health – I am approaching a chicane, a crossover, or a turning and I am failing to slow down.
Again I am fully aware fo the inevitability of approaching this too fast and yet again I am doing nothing about it.
Am I the only one who does this? Or is it something common within those of us who do suffer from poor mental health?
To be perfectly honest I just don’t know and in fact to be perfectly honest I am not sure just what I could do about it.
This evening I went to make a coffee and once again got hit by a sudden unexpected dizzy spell. I had not exerted myself at all, I hadn’t just stood up, I can find no logical obvious reason for it but bang there it was.
I had been sat relaxing and watching some television and fancied a drink and so got up to go make one. I went into kitchen and filled the kettle and put it on to boil and was then stood perfectly calmly watching television in the kitchen when bang it hit me.
I grabbed at the counters in my kitchen in order to steady myself and remained there for a little while. Then grabbing for one of my kitchen chairs I sat down for a bit and then after a little while felt ok again so made that drink. I then carefully made my way to my study and checked my blood sugars ( I am diabetic) and they were ok. Not great but ok and certainly not anywhere bad enough to cause such a spell.
I have decided that I am, going to go to bed tonight (well this morning since it is now 1 am) and have a lay in tomorrow and try to pace myself tomorrow. Not that I did a great deal of strenuous activity today, having spent most of the day in my study working at the computer.
What will happen in respect of the impending episode I am just not sure. When it will actually hit me full-force and with how much force I again do not know.
But what is even more concerning is that I don’t know how to stop it or to prepare myself for it.
I have them a lot it seems but fo some reason last night was one of the more severe bad nights.
Unable to sleep but momentarily and yet exceptionally tired I just lay there trying to stop my mind from going to places it really shouldn’t go. My mind does that when I am at my weakest. It takes advantage of the situation and knows that by doing so it can have the last laugh.
Even so I am happy that I managed to get through it relatively unscathed.
Today of course it mean that I was so very tired. On top of the bad night there the fact that the clocks went forward here in Ireland last night and so we lost an hours sleep and on top of that I am still trying to fight off this flu. Something I have now had for two weeks dag nab it.
Even so I did manage to have a productive day today. I did a lot of work on computer files which I have been meaning to sort out of late. I managed to write another chapter in the book that I am writing and I also manged to mop all th way through my home.
On a really positive note, my son came round this afternoon and gave me a haircut. This always tends to lift my spirits a little and at least I feel as if I look somewhat human again even if I don’t feel very human.
This evening I am going to have an early night and see if I can’t get some energy for tomorrow as there are things I want to achieve tomorrow also.
Who knows perhaps I will experience a miraculous healing tonight and this darned flu will be gone by morning.
As many of you know I have been particularly unwell for about a week now I guess. Some sort of flu or something which has really kicked my butt and has had me laid up in bed most of the week.
Thankfully on Saturday I did feel a little better, which was a good thing since I had exhausted all my provisions and desperately needed to go out and get a few bits.
Saturday of course was St. Patrick’s Day and since I live in Ireland it is a very big day over here with lots of parades and things and so I took my camera out with me and managed to get a lot of shots of the parade before doing my shopping.
By the time I was back at home I was near fit to drop and so I made something to eat, fed my wonderful TJ dog and then got into bed for the rest of the day.
Sunday I was feeling much stronger again and was hopeful that actually I was at the end of this last episode of sickness.
[Some of you might recall that I suffer from, among other things, Chronic Fatigue Syndrome but what you might not know is that the type I have is Chronic Fatigue Immune Dysfunction Syndrome which seems to mean that if there is anything nasty going around I am very likely to catch it.]
But as I say, in respect of this last episode this flu that I have I seemed to be getting better and indeed Sunday I was up and out of bed nearly all day, blogging and writing and doing some other stuff. I still had the blocked and draining sinuses and indeed the cough but still felt an improvement.
Likewise, yesterday I was also still feeling better although I did notice that there were more sporadic episodes of coughing and indeed my sinuses had stopped draining and I was completely blocked up. Even so I decided to stay up and work in my study for the best part of the day and to just hope that it would soon clear.
By yesterday evening however I could take it no more. I was so fed up with being blocked up and struggling to breath. So I grabbed a hanky and had a good blow. (Ok now see where this piece and the title are going?)
Whilst one of my ears popped I have to say very little else happened and so I tried again but this time blowing a lot harder.
WOW! Never in all of my life have I reacted so badly or experienced what happened next!
Both of my ears popped and then my whole world (or so it seemed) started spinning at a sped I cannot even begin to explain. Simultaneously I felt like I was being pulled to the floor by an incredible force and had to grab hold of the arms of the office chair I was sitting in. And I don’t mind telling you that the resultant feeling of confusion and nausea were indescribable.
After a few minutes I managed to call for help and within but a few minutes from that call my son, bless him, had driven round and was putting me to bed.
What happened after that I just can’t tell you as I was out for the count before my son had even left the house in order to go home.
Will I be doing that again in a hurry? Nope not at all!
Thankfully I am up and out of bed again today and although I do still feel worse than I did on Saturday I am determined to beat this thing.
Just lately I have been thinking about patterns and cycles and actually I have been thinking a lot about blogging and journaling too.
As an avid blogger the whole subject of blogs and journals interest me and because of the way my mind works I am also fascinated by patterns etc.
I don’t think you have to be around the whole mental health arena very long before you run into such words as ‘patterns’ and ‘cycles’. Although admittedly how frequently you do so can in many ways be dependant upon which particular mental illness your experience is related to. Especially when it comes to ‘cycling’.
In respect of bipolar disorder terms such as cycling, rapid cycling, or even manic cycles, are quite common place as a result of the nature of the illness. Indeed the ‘cycles’ themselves in this illness relate to the patterns of symptom variance experienced within a recognized time-frame.
Rapid cycling in respect of bipolar disorder for example, is widely recognized as being a patter of four or more episode of mania or depression within one year. I personally am not comfortable with that definition but that is irrelevant.
Of course words such as ‘patterns’ and ‘cycles’ are not exclusive to mental health or bipolar disorder and indeed a common place within our everyday language because patterns and cycles exist in our everyday lives regardless of mental illness.
Likewise patterns and cycles which are not so clearly defined can be present within the lives of a person with mental illness and can, if not observed and responded to, cause serious hinderance or harm to that person’s well-being.
One such area where this is potentially very significant is in respect of medication.
Many years back, long before I became physically ill and could no longer work I was involved in full-time Christian ministry within the social care sector. This work called into direct contact with several different client-groups including folk who had mental-health related needs.
Of course, for reasons I probably don’t have to go into at this point, I was keeping my own personal struggles with poor mental health very much under wraps in those days and indeed was not under the care of a doctor for it or taking any medication.
This often brought me into conflict as time and time again I would be put in situation where I would have to encourage even cajole clients to take their medication, emphasising how important it was when all the time I wasn’t taking any myself.
The truth is that this conflict was very hard for me to live with. But the fear that I would no longer be accepted as credible or trustworthy by my colleagues within my own organisation and indeed within other linked organisations once my own mental illness became known, was just too great to take the risk.
But the more I worked alongside those clients with mental-health related difficulties and who were so poor it seemed at taking their meds – and especially, it has to be said, those clients suffering with schizophrenia – the more I started noticing a pattern common to so many of them.
When they were taking their medication properly most, if not all, of the symptoms of their illness disappeared or became negligible. Hardly surprising considering that is the purpose of the medication in the first place.
But for the patient, the client who was taking that medication there would develop an unhealthy mindset as follows.
“I take medication because of my voices or because of my symptoms, but I no longer have those symptoms so I no longer need to take my medication.”
And of course the inevitable would happen once they had stopped taking their medication for a few days and thus they would within weeks be back at their doctor explaining how they had thought that they had gotten better but how their symptoms were now back and so they needed to go back on meds again.
For a number of patients this became a repetitive pattern and one that was extremely dangerous. Especially considering that very often it can take a while for a medication to start working again once it had been stopped for any length of time.
One of the difficulties is, I believe, that many of us have grown up in a responsive culture when it come to medication. Taking it only when we see a tangible sign of a need for it and seeing medication as something that we take in order to cure rather than to manage an illness or condition.
For me personally my own circumstances have changed since those days. Years back, my physical health deteriorated so badly and at the same time a couple of extremely difficult life events took place and all this culminated in my not only having a complete physical and mental breakdown but my being told that I would, as a result primarily of my physical health, but also due to my mental health, never work again.
It was in many ways a devastating blow. But to be honest with you, at that time I was more focused on trying to survive what was happening to me than I was about earning a living.
I had already lost the ability to work and subsequently had given up my work and with it I had lost the reason (and actually the ability) to hide my own mental health difficulties.
Of course thankfully I am much better now than I was when my whole life crashed around me. I am blessed by having many good days along with the lets just say harder days. But even so, and even with my own knowledge and experience of the potential patterns and pitfalls when it comes poor medication management I still sadly struggle to take my medication properly. Partly as a result of memory issues, partly as a result of focusing issues, partly as a result of the fact that I am quite rebellious and I have to say partly because I am still convinced that I can manage better with it.
Noticing our behaviors and resultant patterns can be a very useful tool in the management of our illnesses and I think for me that is one of the best things about journaling or indeed keeping a journaling aspect to blogs.
It affords us the ability – if we regularly review our own journals and blogs – to look for or to notice patterns. That is also, I am convinced, one of the benefits of sharing blogs, because sometimes we can see in other people’s stuff the things that we fail to notice in our own and because of that even the most mundane or ordinary of blog posts can serve a purpose.
Ok so it is official. I have now had more restarts than a cheap laptop with a dodgy version of Windows 3.1 on it.
But the good news is that sometimes any restart is a blessing. See it is all about how you look at these things.
Are you a ‘glass half empty’ kind of person or a ‘glass half full’ kind of person? Personally I am an “Ok. Which one of you pesky kids drank half my drink!” kind of person.
So having been laid up in bed sick all week I finally got to the stage where I just had to get up as I had no food, which is admittedly a state of affairs which I often will just ignore for a couple of days, and no dog food for TJ my dog. Which is a state of affairs I will never just ignore.
So today I just had to get up and go into town and get poor old TJ (my Dog and faithful companion) some food. Oh and I got myself some too Hehe.
Actually this coincided with St. Patrick’s Day here in Ireland and since the local parade was due to be held about the same time that I was du to be shopping I took my camera along with me and snapped a whole load of random shots of the parade.
Keen that my kids should get to see them I have uploaded them all on my Facebook page but here (if I have done it right) are a selection of them in a slide show for all you folks who are following this blog.
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[Hm. Not sure why the slide show also included the two previous images? Perhaps I am doing something wrong - sorry about that.]
Actually I have to admit that I really wasn’t looking forward to going into town today and to be perfectly honest I really shouldn’t have gone since it really has taken a great deal out of me. Especially standing for so long watching the parade and taking pictures.
But even so, I am so very pleased that I did and at the end of the day I really did need the shopping. Additionally, being sensible for once, (yes I know that can be a little out of character for me) I did do as I was told and come home and after putting the shopping away and feeding TJ, I went back to bed for a while.
So all in all it has been a very good day. I managed to get out of the house for a bit. Pick up some shopping, feed my faithful companion TJ and also get some rest. All of that really pleases me but I have to tell you that whilst all that pleases me, there is something else that pleases me even more.
This evening I started writing again!
(Cue: Fanfare! Chariots zipping past flying banners! Fireworks launched from civil buildings!)
Ok so perhaps it isn’t that much of a big deal to anyone else, but it really is a big deal to me and I am pretty sure that my kids will be pleased.
Many moons back I started telling my kids a bed-time story and they asked me if I could write it down for them so that they could keep it and read it when I wasn’t available.
That led to the writing of the first of what has now grown to be 8 full novels in the series but sadly as my mental health worsened, so too did my memory and focus and I have been unable to continue the series.
But that was then and this was now. Is my memory better? Not really, well not a whole lot, but I figure I can work around that if I am careful. Is my focus better? Actually I think it is getting a little clearer. And here’s the deal. I figure I can either sit there and let this whole series just die and never end it or I can try to combat the difficulties and see what happens.
So this evening I started writing it again. Book Nine in the series and I am delighted.
Actually I had started writing the first chapter of book nine already it seems. But when I went to it I noticed that it needed a fair few changes made to it. Which isn’t surprising being as it was at that point in the book’s writing that I really did notice my mental health, memory and focus had deteriorated so badly.
But I changed it. Some 5 years (if the book’s date is to be believed and I have no reason not too) after I stopped writing it I have now started writing it again and I have already re-written a lot of Chapter One and newly written almost all of Chapter Two.
How will I get on with it? Will it make any sense? Will the kids enjoy it? Will my mental health hold up long enough for me to actually finish it? Who knows. But hey at least I am trying and that had got to be a good thing.
There are several things in life that I find hard to accept. Intolerance, injustice, neglect, abuse, bigotry, the list goes on . Thankfully I don’t have to deal with those very often and even when I do it is often indirectly or they are somehow detached or removed.
One of the things that is far less important on the world-wide scale but far more direct and far more personal to me is wasted days.
Wasted days. Days when I am forced to spend almost of my time in bed resting and when I jut can’t do anything else but rest,
I need to be active, have my mind active – in a directed, healthy, purposeful, way. Not being able to, not being able to focus my mind properly and not being physically able to get things done really bothers me and if I am honest depresses me greatly.
Not least of all because it is a wake up call or an in-your-face reminder about my health and how bad it is. And that really bothers me.
Many years back – in 1999 they built me a wheelchair and told me that within six months I would be spending most of my time in it. I refused to accept that as I could think of very few things that would be worse. So I decided not to use it.
Additionally I am a very big guy and someone trying to wheel me around is kind of like stuffing a hippo in a wheelbarrow and asking someone to push. Simply not likely to happen and definitely not a good idea.
Laying in bed completely exhausted and unable to move very much, struggling to breath and with a head that feels like it is going to explode is no fun at all and get’s boring so very quickly. Additionally this breast lump is still bothering me.
So I pulled myself up, grabbed a laptop and decided to write something. And you know what, I may pay for having done so, but I am glad that I did. Not least of all because it reminded me that even though I am so sick, and even though I do feel like I have wasted a complete day, the fact is that it is still only one day, maybe two or three days depending on how I feel tomorrow and the next day.
Just a day or two out of a week, a month, a year, that I am still able to do thing despite my health.
I am tiring again and need to lay down. But I managed it. I wrote something and I got up out of bed for a few minute (or at least sat up in bed) and I am thankful. Thankful that I could and thankful that there is still hope.
Yep today is the day of the three L’s Lists, Lumps and Lethargy. I am sure I could find more words beginning with L which would be appropriate but to be honest I really can’t be honest. Did I mention Lethargy? LOL
In many ways I should be pleased or in a positive frame of mind today. Things are generally going well. Nothing too outlandish happening, positive improvements with relationships, no obvious signs of mania, and I have actually dealt with some of the important day-to-day stuff that needed to be dealt with.
And yet I am not in a positive frame of mind at all. Actually I am incredibly low.
Lists.
There are things I want to achieve. Items that I have listed that I either need to attend to or really just want to attend to. Objectives set and not yet realized.
I wanted to start writing properly again, and although I know that my focus, memory and comprehension are still not up to par I am at least hopeful that I can struggle through and hey – who knows – perhaps by struggling through it will work like some sort of mental work out and lead to better mental health. Certainly that is possible.
I want to start singing again. It is a long time since I sang properly and I miss it. Perhaps record a few tracks but then the recording quality on my computer isn’t good enough and the personal recorder/dictaphone that I was going to by last time I had some spare cash slipped my mind.
I wanted to record some new poetry but can’t really do that yet (for the same reason as above).
Sort out the spare room
Work more on the family ancestry and on friend’s family ancestry
Yep there are definitely things that I have listed and yet have not done them.
Lumps
Hidradenitis suppurativa is a nasty little condition that mainly affects the areas with apocrine sweat glands and subaceous glands. Basically that means the warmer places on the body. Inner thighs, groin, buttocks, under the arms, breasts (including manboobs) and which can manifest in chronic abscesses, epidermoid cysts, sebaceous cysts, pilonidal cyst or multilocalised infections.
Actually it hasn’t been too bad of late but seems to be back with a vengeance and that really drags me down as it means extra cleaning, laundry and most of all discomfort.
The lump that is my right leg also seems to be depressing me somewhat lately. It is uncomfortable to say the least and the only treatment that can be offered now are these full length, very tight, very heavy flat weave compression stockings that cost about 150 each and whilst the hospital are willing to pay for them I have enough trouble getting normal socks on. Heaven only knows how much extra trouble I am going to have with these and additionally I am not sure I can even have them what with this current worsening in my Hidradenitis suppurativa.
And then there is the good old breast lump which has returned again. I think this is now the fourth or firth time and whilst part of me is able to accept that it is only an infection I can’t help wondering why it always returns and why always in the same place – directly under the nipple and at the end of the day it is darned uncomfortable – both painful and inflamed.
But I think over and above all of the other stuff, the one thing that drags me down quicker than any other thing is this darned lethargy.
I am just so fatigued and so tired and so weak.
Even getting out of bed is virtually too much for me at the moment and staying out of bed for any length of time really isn’t a runner. I would say that I probably spent 21 – 22 hours of the past 24 hours in my bed and I really don’t like that. I like to be fairly active – if not physically then mentally at least – and yet I just don’t seem able to stay up very much at all lately.
I do my best to push through it, mindful that some of it could possibly be down to the depression but I know my body and I have been dealing with this for many a year now and I know that it goes beyond the depression. Although I do readily accept that the lengthy discussion I had with the psychiatrist at the hospital has got my mind fixating on something and that is dragging me down also. Perhaps I will blog about that tomorrow if I am able. Who knows.
Still desperate to remain positive, I am aware that this is no doubt yet another phase in the repetitive cycle that I and hundreds of thousands of other poor mental health sufferers go through, and that a) many go through far worse than I do and b) at the end of the day it will hopefully only last for a short amount of time before changing for a while.
But I have to admit it really is kicking my butt this time and really dragging me down.
There are a number of passages in the Bible which make me sit up and question, sit up an reflect on, their true meaning.
I wonder how many of us as parents have had our child or children wake up from a bad dream or nightmare and in their fear automatically call out to us of come to our bedroom door in search of us?
Isn’t (and shouldn’t) the same be true in respect of the fear that we face in life as children of God?
As Jim made us both a cuppa, I looked around the office. I would be moving into it soon enough as Jim was leaving to go to Bible College soon and I would be taking his job. On his desk sat a little wooden cross with a light green plastic Jesus nailed to it. “That’s going the minute I take over this office.” I thought to myself, “I am not into crucifixes and Jesus has risen!”
