Schizoaffective and.....Loving It

Sharing some Amy Winehouse

2012-01-28T21:49:00.000+11:00

I was just listening to this and thought I'd share it; the clip doesn't match my own made up visual I have when I inevitably wiggle some body part to it's infectious sound!

Hugo, my friend Tina and the royally fucked attitudes of many in the Mental Health Services

2012-01-28T20:38:00.000+11:00

I just re-read my last post with some amusement; god I was earnest toward the end wasn't I?? Bright little bunny eagerly setting myself so many Sensible goals for the year!! Ha!!

I met up with a friend today and we saw the Martin Scorsese film "Hugo" (not in 3D which was a shame, but was cheaper; 3D film cost about $20 concession in Oz); we both agreed it was a great film. We later chatted at her house over coffee; she's a fair bit older than me and works in the office of the public advocate in the area of mental health. We originally met because she was my home-based outreach worker some years back; when she left that job we became friends. I've learned a lot from Tina; she's passionate about giving a voice to mental illness people who find themselves downtrodden; she's a gem really. Even though she's past her 60's she still smokes and says Fuck and has an small tattoo on her ankle. I love Tina immensely.

We have talked in the past about mental health institutions and their workers tending to treat clients like they are children, usually naughty ones, especially in hospital. If nurses do that to me I tend to up the ante and behave very mischevously, unless I'm very unwell in which case I'm either flailing and jibbering (only happened once) or spooked out of my mind and prone to being picked on by other patients (usually the case). When spooked I turn to staff who tartly tell me to wait, which I dutifully did , often for about 3 hours, perched on the chairs outside the nursing fishbowl where you see them scribbling notes, answering phones and engaging in leisurely chit chat before emerging with a finger pointed upwards while saying " You'll just have to be patient Katrina". Then off they disappear again. Grrrrrrr.......

Anyway Tina is and has been a good sounding board for me over the years with relation to how I'm tracking, and is quick to point out that nobody-mental illness diagnosis or not- nobody gets it right all the time; ie - diet, exercise, socialisation, R & R, spirituality, work, family......etc....and yet so often Psychiatrists come down the heavy on clients to master as much of the aforementioned - how exactly is not explained; that is up to the resourcefulness of the individual and/or their key workers, should they have them. The most ridiculous part is that the side effects of the medication are expected to be absorbed and tolerated for the most part. It takes constant nagging to get a Psych to take notice, thats been my experience. The only time he reacted immediately was when my right leg began 'pinging' up from the knee when in a seated position after a few days of taking a new anti-psychotic, Zeldox, I think it was. I stopped it immediately, which , when you consider my right leg hits the accelerator pedal in my car, was probably a good thing!

But yeah getting back to my point (I think I have one....it's a balmy night here in Melbourne and I'm tired) : Tina gives me solace for not being The Model Psych Patient in terms of self management. I tend to beat myself up for being overweight etc; aside from the unpleasant aesthetic, difficulty getting clothes to fit that look ok: being unfit really sucks. Anyone with a gut will know what I mean when I say clipping your toenails and tying shoelaces can make you huff and puff and feel like you will pass out! Not good!!!!

I've decided however, to put jobseeking on hold until I get my health in order, so I can't keep puddling around ingesting crap and sitting on my arse, much as part of me would like to.

Music creating fireworks

2012-01-01T14:20:00.000+11:00

Happy new year and all that palava. I had a quiet one at home with my dog, who barked furiously at revelling neighbours and silly backyard illegal fireworks. At 12.05am Channel 9 were good enough to put on a very amusing film from 1980: "Can't stop the music". I was entranced with this film and soundtrack when I was 10 years old. I was in love with the construction worker David Hodo, even though his eyes were all squinty when he took off his magnificent sunglasses (a rare occurance). Looking at it through adult eyes I was amazed at how camp the film was; so many men in tiny tiny denim shorts! I never saw that angle as a kid!

I have always liked the music and culture of gay men, much moreso than of gay women. Things like dance music versus howling wimmen like Melissa Etheridge; I know that's a genralisation but in my experience tends to be the basic theme. My first girlfriend adored Melissa Etheridge and similar guitar strummers like the Indigo Girls; we used to watch Marie Wilson, a local muso with a huge lesbian following (in the mid 1990's). Admittedly she was good live, just not my type of music.

My neighbour asked me the other day what sort of music did I like; I mumbled that I'd bought the Katy Perry CD with a gift voucher (mainly cos I like Firework, not many other of her songs). My neighbour went on to list a number of country artists she is passionate about, like Casey Chambers (and believe me, she IS passionate....I have heard her catawalling in unison with Casey's CD turned up high). I had to concede that I'm not interested in music the way I used to be. It's like that part of me is dead now. Even if I like a tune the most I'll do is turn up the volume in my tinny car stereo....the same stereo speakers it was fitted with in the factory that sit up the front of the car and give no bass thudthudthud. I won't sing along, hardly ever tap my hand on the steering wheel. What the fuck is wrong with me?

Part of me thought it was Getting Old. After all, I do listen to 3AW talkback radio everyday now. I bought a digital radio for this purpose; clearer AM radio reception. When my dog chewed through my stereo speaker cord I wasn't devastated; I hardly ever used it. My MP3 player stopped working about a year ago; I see no point in replacing it: I never used it. What is wrong with me????

I used to be passionate about music as much as the next person: granted my taste was somewhat eclectic and contradictory (picture: Pet Shop Boys, Tom Waits, Oasis, Portishead, The The, Fat Boy Slim, Dusty Springfield, Devo, Bruce Springsteen, Madonna....). My list shows how dated things are for me; I haven't bought much over the past 15 years. Which, now I think of it, coincides with 2 salient points;

(1) I started medication 17 years ago;

(2) I put on 15 kilos (partly due to meds; mostly due to depression, drinking, junk food and self-pity) 15 years ago and have only added to that since.

In some respects I feel like someone has pulled the colour card out of my vision; everything is shades of grey, black and white. I've written about this before, a while ago now. I know the meds dull things down and are necessary, lest I escalate into technicolour and paranoid delusions. There's not much I can do about changing them at this point, or asking my psych to change them. Things need to be 'stable' according to him for prolonged periods without any episodes, and I had a minor one in November.

What I can do is lose weight; not an easy ask on Zyprexa but I will try. I am going to teach myself to cook this year; one of my new years resolutions. I dusted off my "The Biggest Loser" low-fat cookbook and it has some easy and do-able stuff in it; like making Bircher Museli. So I am going to try to learn a couple of recipes a week. I'm also going to walk my dog every day. I will try to find meaningful work and keep a better handle on the housework. I know I need to socialise more, but when I'm in this 86kg bloated frame I feel less than adequate.

Maybe I just need to pump up the music on my Katy Perry CD and shout to myself that I am indeed a firework!!!

White Lie Xmas

2011-12-06T17:09:00.000+11:00

"don't yew Judge me..."

Saw my drug and alcohol counsellor today; Debbie. Mentioned my past week's worth of imbibing efforts and how even though I stuck to pre-mixed cans instead of a bottle of scotch that I ended up drinking on 4 days, 3 of them heavily. To counter this we've agreed I won't start drinking till I am watching the 6 o'clock news, then will fix dinner at 6.30, then allow myself a max of 2 more cans after dinner. I'm not able to try this till I get paid Thursday, as I ran myself dry a bit financially this fortnight. Have several more bills the upcoming fortnight: gas, water and broadband (all up about $250); a $50 deposit on a photography session I won by attending a beauty makeover; $120 for health insurance; $100 to put my dog in a boarding kennel for a week while I have a brief holiday; $150 for the holiday....plus about $100 for everyday expenses like groceries and petrol for the fortnight. It will be tight. Not much room for booze.

I also told Debbie about my session with my key worker, Paul. We're working on my diet and exercise along with me getting some housework done. He encouraged me to go to more events at Lifeworks, so I put my name down for some fitness activities. He said he'd fix me up with a dietician, but I won't hold my breath. I am suspicious of Paul; I get the impression he thinks there's nothing wrong with me and that I should just get a supermarket job or somesuch and let him be free of timewasters like me. Bad vibes.

I ended by telling Debbie a bit of a joke about my fave episode of My Name is Earl: White Lie Christmas (Season 1). Joy's parents come to visit for Xmas and lies abound everywhere, none moreso than Joy's Mum who is wheelchair bound due to failing kidneys for which she needs regular dialysis. However, when Earl walks into the trailer one night he finds Joy's Mum jumping and cheering on her greyhound race on the TV, stopping only to say "it's a Christmas Miracle!!" when Earl quizzes her standing. She confesses to him that she gets the dialysis money from her hubby to fund her savage gambling habit, pushing Earl out of the way to go and place a bet, then waggles her finger at him: "Don't yew Judge me". This phrase is used several times. I love it. The whole watch me be an ass but don't dare judge; I know a fair few people in 12 step fellowships who are like that - and they're not in active addiction anymore!!!! Farkin hillarious!!!

It's time....food for thought

2011-11-30T17:43:00.001+11:00

http://youtu.be/_TBd-UCwVAY

Lunch today for Dad's birthday

2011-11-29T16:20:00.000+11:00

My 74 year old Dad picked me up today for us to go to a local cafe and celebrate his birthday over lunch. He drove as he was coming from his property in rural Victoria and also had a doctor's appointment for the afternoon (a specialist). We stopped at my home for a while as we had a cool soft drink (the weather has been a humid 30+ degree day here) and we played with my dog. He opened his present that I bought him and seemed happy: I got an antique small looking glass from France on Ebay.

We had a really good chat over lunch, which was a nice surprise. He began by being a bit bombastic and telling long-winded stories along with being haughty and judgemental of me when I spoke about how I was going (must be where I get it from). Thankfully once his glass of red arrived and he'd consumed it he loosened up and was quite affable. It made me wish I was in contact with him more frequently.

I asked about his wife Ada (Medusa) and he said she tends to overdo her efforts in the garden as "it must be done". Ada also, he said, tends to put on a brave face when out in company, then collapses (virtually) when she gets home, telling Dad to sort out his own dinner as she is going to bed.

I already disliked my stepmother to begin with, but hearing these stories makes me all the more sorry for Dad. His driving has deteriorated markedly; he's lost his confidence. Even in the 5 minute drive to the cafe I immediately noted how poor his skills have become. He sits on about 45kms an hour in a 60 zone and makes late judgements about turning (not indicating as well). I had to shout at him to stop at a pedestrian crossing; he nearly ran two old people over. I know some people lose driving skills as they age, but the contrast in Dad's ability since he drove me last really shocked me. Next time I will offer to drive for sure. Not all the way to his property in Mansfield (which actually belongs to my stepmother, and I'm not altogether sure she would welcome me there)...it's a 3 hour drive through tough terrain and my 18 year old little Corolla is starting to make strange noises. Maybe I'd catch the bus up. Anyway.

The meal was nice, at least, I enjoyed mine: I had a beef thai salad; Dad had a smoked salmon and cheese melt, which he disliked due to some funky dark sauce on it. He had his glass of red, I had a peach iced tea. We finished with coffee and fruit mince tarts (pastry tarts with sultanas and mixed fruit in them...a Xmas sweet treat in Australia and probably England where I'm sure we copied them from). It was a nice leisurely lunch.

Phew; 4.45 and it's still very warm here today. It started to rain then stopped, further intsifying the awful humidity. Melbournians aren't used to humid summers, unlike our northern neighbours in tropical Queensland and New south Wales. The south coast normally has a dry heat. Western Australia, in the south part (including the capital Perth) have a scorching summer, as can Adelaide in the central south. Here in Victoria (Melbourne) we generally have very little rain in summer, although last summer we had a pronounced La Nina effect, with lowered temperatures and heaps of rain. Usually we get Il Ninio, the opposite: dry, hot, windy; hellish for farmers and people without airconditioning.

Anyway I digress. Was so nice to spend lunch with my Dad today. I will make an effort to see him more often. He has type 2 diabetes and a heart condition, and yet he eats what he likes and drinks fairly heavily, naughty man. I definitely follow after Dad when it comes to alcohol.

I bought a bottle of scotch last Thursday and drank it all by Sunday. Am seeing the counsellor tomorrow. Have not had any yesterday or today (Tues). I told Dad this, and thankfully he refrained from judging me. Like he understood how hard it can be to cease drinking. His diabetes specialists must have told him the dangers of him drinking. Dad said he 'got shitty with them' and 'stayed dry for a month' just to prove he could stop if he wanted to. Sounds like they were hardballing him about his consumption. He said his doctor makes him to blood tests to check liver function to see if Dad has been truthful about his liquor consumption. I can relate: an old psychiatrist used to do the same with me. I told Dad I have been warned that due to my Epilim damaging my liver I shouldn't drink at all, according to Dr Schiff. I told him also how Lithium damages my kidneys, and about Jeff's niece Sue who is 60-ish and also has schizoaffective who is now on dialysis due to Lithium stuffing up her kidneys.

Anyway, bottom line is: Dad and I both have medical reasons not to drink. However if I were in Dad's shoes, and was 74 being told what I could and couldn't do to prolong me living to being a 90 year old shuffling prune, I'd tell them to get fucked too. While "get fucked' might not be Dad's exact words to his medicos, his actions sort of indicate a healthy disregard for authority. Or unhealthy. But at 74, why the fuck not enjoy yourself to life's little pleasures??

It's going to be 33 degrees today and humid...

2011-11-29T08:25:00.000+11:00

Celsius that is, for all you Fahrenheit ppl out there. I'm meeting my Dad for lunch to celebrate both his and my birthdays. I got him an antique magnifying glass on Ebay which came from France. I was disappointed with its minuscule size and that part of the frame was chipped, but there was not enough time to send it back for an exchange. It's unique enough, I think Dad will like it.

Prior to us lunching I have a meeting with Susie, my employment counsellor. Hopefully the job searching will continue best as possible in the coming months. However I need to get a handle on some things first. Like drinking, housework, gardening, caring for my dog, caring for myself. I'm not managing all that well.

Am seeing the alcohol counsellor tomorrow. Had my last drink Sunday (got through a bottle of scotch in 4 days prior). Need help with goal setting for daily stuff. Like taking Floss for a walk. Becoming more regular with housework (I vacuum and change my sheets monthly, wash the floors every few months, often do the dishes every couple of days so the bench is dirty). I haven't cleaned the oven since it was put in over 4 years ago. I know: putrid way of living. I am definitely domestically challenged.

I have weeds in the garden, lots of them. I don't have a whipper snipper so the edges are all uneven and weedy. I attempt to mow the lawn every 3 weeks or so (in summer).

As for Floss: she isn't toilet trained yet. I've sort of given up on that; I don't even get the urine stains out anymore, just pick up the poo with a plastic bag turned inside out. This indifference started due to me drinking. When you are pissed it's hard to keep track of when she last ate, watching for when she paces etc. Added to the smell of my indoor smoking and my house smells pretty bad. Poor Floss gets walked irregularly. It needs to be daily. I'm too scared to take her to the park in case an off-lead dog lays into her. I can't have her off lead; she won't come when called and has no road sense.

So overall: I am struggling. It's times like this that I wonder whether my Dad's advice back in 2007 to get a nice 1 bedroom flat in the urban areas of Melbourne would have been more manageable. Still I would have been living in the congested areas of Melbourne with all its stress. There would be no birdlife that I have out here; all the Kookaburras and Parrots and Galahs and Rosellas and Cockatoos just to name a few. I wouldn't be able to have my little Flossie either. Plus it would be noisy with traffic in a flat and possibly also with neighbours. I did well to score a little house here in the outer east.

Now I just have to maintain it.

Wait till they get a load of me.....

2011-11-28T08:59:00.000+11:00

So said the joker as played by Jack Nicholson. I don't know about you, but sometimes when I'm feeling dark and in the mood for retribution I have the odd fantasy that I too could have the joker's destructive powers. Not so much a Blow 'Em Up, Kick 'Em Around type of caper; moreso a hit them where it hurts idea. Usually emotional.

Why so? Vengeance I guess. Getting my own back. Righting those who wronged me. We've all had experience of Those People.

Bitter and twisted? Yes possibly, in fact probably. Aiding nobody especially myself. To hold a resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person will die. Truth be told there are precious few who have truly 'done me wrong'. At the same time there are probably an equal number whom I have done similar wrongdoing to, possibly without even realising it.

From a psychotic perspective one might be tempted to think that such aggression (ie: the wait till they get a load of me) might be used as a weapon. This couldn't be further from the truth with me when I have been psychotic. Far from being scheming and vengeful, I am random, paranoid and terrified.

Fruit Loops for December

2011-11-25T16:31:00.000+11:00

I went shopping at Aldi (German discount Supermarket in Australia) on Monday. I bought some overseas version of Fruit Loops, which I allow myself to eat in December as its a festive gesture my stepmother used to allow us as kids. Ok ok...so it's not quite December, but I wanted to commence the FruitLoopDom anyway. So I open the said pack of Loopies the next day and instead of sugar hit I get.....CARDBOARD. Tastes like cardboard. Orrible. Am tempted to give them to the dog but don't want to ruin her diet, as I know there MUST be sugar hidden in there somewhere. They did a good job hiding it.

Have been watching the odd DVD here and there which I purchase from a second hand store for $3-4. I know many ppl download movies illegally for free; I just like to have a library of colourful spines containing discs; they make my loungeroom look pretty. I guess it's my library of sorts, in a way books would be for the bookwormers out there. I tried to engage in reading a photocopy from a chapter of a book "How to manage your mania and depression" given to me by my psychologist, but was stunned by boredom. Maybe I should dust off my old copy of The Da Vinci Code and let myself get engaged. Except I know how it ends. Still, there's something to be said for pulp fiction.

My Dad gave me a Hardcopy set of the Lord of The Rings trilogy for my birthday last year. One day I will challenge myself to read it. I found the movies hard enough to follow. There were bits in it where my mind was doing a Homer Simpson blah-blah-blah vacant thought bubble, in spite of it's superb scenery, costuming, music, acting etc. Maybe I just found the movies too long. I tend to look on the back of a DVD cover where all the teeny tiny writing is and scour for the movie length time, inwardly sighing if I see its 100mins or less. This 2 hours plus movie length is a relatively recent phenomenon; over the past 10-15 years. It feels like that anyway.

On the small screen i have a new TV love: The Big Bang Theory. It has grown on me the past few months (lord knows I've had ample opportunity to view it with all Channel 9's repeats). I particularly like Sheldon and Amy Farrar-Fowler. I'm guessing I'm not alone there, especially Sheldon. Jim Parsons is so unique, what a clever, clever man. Course he is aided by snappy writing and supporting cast, but I do so enjoy his quirks. It's one of the few things I laugh out loud on the small screen, a rarity for me with American shows. I suspect the humour element is somewhat universal in this show, judging by how successful it is overseas (check out Wikipedia, there's heaps of countries which it rates well in). Anyhoo.

Back to Fruit Loops. And Aldi. I got home Monday, convinced I'd saved myself at least $25 by buying non-brand name products (ie: overseas ones and Aldi's home brands). As the week has gone on I deduced I am prepared to spend that extra $25 and get the tastes that I know and like. Such as Kellogg's Fruit Loops, a ridiculous $6.95 a box, but a guilty December pleasure nonetheless. Yes I know it's still November. It's just starting to feel festive (see last post).

Around this time of year many people have end of year office Xmas parties. Some people get blitzed and say and do things they regret. Others are the model of moderation and have two drinks then make a quick getaway. This year I have no office party (I quit my horrible office job in April). So I've let myself imbibe on days like today when I've done the housework, mowed the lawn, and there's little to do other than watch a DVD. So why not have a few Scotch and Cokes while I do it? So there's my Xmas party on my ownsome. And to sometimes ruffle the fur on my little dog's neck and chest while she slumbers.

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

2011-11-19T10:58:00.000+11:00

So says the Michael Buble version of a Bing Crosby song in an ad which is being shown a lot here. The decorations are in the shops, the festive ads are on the telly, the supermarkets are selling mince pies and plum puddings and giant smoked hams....it's the festive season.....and it's still NOVEMBER!!!!

It's belting down a tropical-like rain this Saturday morning; with the odd thunder rolling along. My dog is non-plussed by thunder and lightning, in fact sometimes she barks at it. Brave little furry soul. I slept on the couch till 10am, having got up at the usual 7am; I think thats ingrained now, which is good, particularly for job hunting. I found out the the speaking engagements I've been doing have been largely wrapped up till May next year. So it's Centrelink (social security) alone for me, for now.

I bought all my Xmas presents the other day, all 16 of them; over half for family members I only see on Xmas day; it's ridiculous. I wish my fucked-up family had a Kris Kringle policy; it would be so much easier. So I went to the $2 shop and got everything for under $100; I got some odd presents (eg: a giant calculator for my Dad) and some inspired ones (a rock-like key hider for my brother-in-law). At the end of the day it's a gesture. Nobody ever gets grouse presents in our family due to there being so many to buy for (stepfamilies and their families). I suppose its not the point of Xmas, presents. The important thing is to share a nice meal and conversation with your extended family, right? And be grateful for what one has, right?

My Mum is hosting the umpteenth Xmas at her house, which I think is unfair. My house is too small to cope with the dozen or so people from my stepfather's side. My step brother and step sister have never offered to host Xmas once. Never. In over 20 years. My sister has done so a few times; she's packing up with her family to get to their holiday house by the beach, where they will spend Xmas day. Which leaves my 76 year old mother to host: she says she's doing a buffet self-serve. I've offered to make some salads. I hope my step siblings have the decency to offer to bring food; they probably will.

My Dad I hope I get to see on Xmas day, but he's usually disorganised and lets me know where and when at the last minute. He expects a present with a high dollar value; he'll be in for a shock this year!

I'm spending Xmas night with my friend Paula who has no family; she's inviting friends to drop in all day for a casual meal. I'll bring leftovers from Mum's house; it'll be nice to relax with a friend and just chill. Diana will spend it with her best friend Jen and her family, as both her parents are deceased and her brothers like to spend it with their families.

So what does Xmas mean to you? Stress? Enjoyment? Memories? Mourning? Loneliness? Togetherness? Gratitude?

I guess for me it means all of the above.

Friendship scarred by me being the critic

2011-11-15T08:04:00.000+11:00

Ok; so you know how I said things were all ok with Diana again? They're not. She is wary and distant with me. She posted that she was descending into darkness on Facebook yesterday arvo; I expressed concern on FB and tried calling and texting her. I did this becuase she is a sober alcoholic (over 3 years sober after an 18 month drinking spell which was preceeded with 9 years of sobriety). For an alcoholic to reach utter despair can mean crisis; either relapsing or contemplating suicide. So of course I was worried.

About 3 hours later she texted me to say she'd been asleep. I texted back saying I was glad she was ok, then no response. Maybe on reflection I should have rung her again. Maybe I'd just dramatised the whole thing (probably). In any case I think I have made her wary of me due to comments I made to her on Facebook a couple of days ago. Not public comment; in private messaging. Has anyone else had the QWERTY curse of being more ballsy in comment via typing one's frank opinion, rather than being more tactful in real life (eg: over the phone)??? And that the said ballsy-ness has resulted in the other person being hurt? Deeply????

It's too, too easy to just tippity tap out a few choice words without thinking them through, especially in chat mode. Once you press enter, there they are; immortalised on the ethernet unless you delete them (sometimes easier said than done). It's almost like when if you've said something about someone in real life behind their back (gossiping) as a careless aside; it's easy for the words to tumble out; harder to accept ownership. Like, you've said it, someone else remembers it, you can't take it back. Likewise to the typewritten words of internet chat, or even blogging for that matter (although the author can delete usually...god knows I have).

Back to Diana; she's ignored me the past 24 hours, which is unlike her, normally she is a reliable and chatty friend, even when she is in a dark place. Frequently I have exchanged notes of empathy with her when she is feeling blue. I'm guessing her latest attempt to get a loan has been knocked back, she would be feeling desperate. I'm not in a position to lend her more money, being out of work myself, plus she has been unreliable in paying people back; this is know.

Diana claims to be "a touch psychic"; I wonder what her intuitive powers make of turncoats like me? She frustrates the hell out of me. She posts inspirational quotes on her Facebook page everyday, which can have nice sentiments, sometimes I find them too ethereal for my liking. Her latest quote was the one I put at the top of this post; negative me focused on the part that said: "...and forget about those that don't". I don't think I'm being totally paranoid about this message from Diana; I think she wants to let me know that she pissed with me. That's how it seems.

Paranoid? Self-absorbed? Insensitive? Oversensitive? Quite possibly (me, not her).

Slept like a bomb last night

2011-11-14T08:26:00.000+11:00

Probably not surprising given I'd had 3 hours the previous night; plus I ingested 4 cans of Jack Daniels & coke yesterday arvo to cope with a panic attack brought on by missing Zyprexa the previous night. I gladly put the bright yellow bitter/sweet Zyprexa Zydis wafer on my tongue last night at 7.30 pm, and was in bed by 8.40, asleep with my furry doggy snoring too by 9pm. Thank god for that.

Woke at 7am as per usual today. Feel a bit fuzzy but not altogether bad. The sky is blue the wind is still: it will be 24 degrees celsius today. I don't have to troop into my old office job in the basement with little natural light and deal with the moods of my odious former co-worker (skip back before April 2011 to get a dose of her). I don't have to churn through piles of correspondence and summarise them into a dull database program after scanning them. True, I don't have the paycheck that turning up to my former work afforded me. Yet I am free. A bit lonely and bereft of people to talk to, but free.

I will walk my dog again today; she loves all the smells on the various naturestrips, trotting along happily. She goes ape with excitement if we meet someone, especially if they have a dog on a lead. Unfortunately she has no road sense and does not come when called, hence I can't yet let her off lead in a park. The walk is better than nothing though, plus I leave her outside in the front and back yards for a few hours each day. Right now she is sprawled on the brickwork in my side yard, blinking and squinting at the gentle morning sun. Dogs are great. I love dogs.

A domestic day awaits: there are chores inside and out in the garden which require attention. I can't do much else as my finances restrict me to buying (mostly) necessities and budgeting. Yet for now, that is my choice. Diana challenged me the other day that I could and should be working, at least part time. She's right. My casual work doing public speaking engagements has dried up as the year winds to a close. I quit the catalogue delivery due to it being too labour-intensive and poorly paid. So I scoured the internet before; slim pickings.

I'm searching for work as a consumer educator ideally; an expansion of what I'm already doing in speaking to the schoolkids. Nothing so far, but will hold out. If it comes to Feb/March next year (when the job market picks up again) and I'm still in my current position, I will have to be prepared to compromise; maybe even soul-destroying office work again. Or retail. Or call centres. Sigh. I know there are millions who endure such jobs who would be shaking their fist at me and yelling "You sanctimonious bitch!!!! How dare you sponge off hardworking ppl like me who pay your wage (my disability pension is funded by taxes) when you should be out there working too!!!!"

I hear ya. My conscience has been prickling since I left work, most of the time. It's time of the year like this when I really notice being out of work; like having no end-of-year break ups; having time to gradually go around the shops and carefully choose Xmas presents instead of rushing; staying calm in the chaos that major road arterials become as drivers Rush Rush Rush and the roads become clogged. No wonder people find relief when the festive season is over.

And that's not even mentioning coping with 'difficult' family members to endure on Xmas day itself! You know, the one or two you normally never see, nor ever would want to, who manage to say and/or do annoying things, especially after a drink or two. Maybe not an argument, but enough shennanigans to make one feel relief when either (a) you have all guests gone and the house to yourself again or (b) you pull away in your car from the venue when Xmas lunch or dinner was held.

Anyway I digress; being unemployed puts one out of the loop in several ways. I've had my fair share of unwinding and chilling out. Diana is right: I need to work.

I've mostly recovered from my manic/depressive cycle from the past fortnight or so. I know to be mindful of seeking a workplace where such 'blips' on my radar would not only be tolerated but cared about. I did get that at first in my old workplace; in Dec 2008 I was unwell and went to hospital for a month. Work gave me a 'get well' basket of goodies and were most accomodating. I felt grateful. Then in June 2009 I had a blip where I had a cold, took a Codral cold and flu tablet(with psuedoeferdrine in it), got manic and was in hospital for a wekk. That elicited no sympathy, in fact I got a bit of schtick for it. Then in Sep 2009 my psych put me on Abilify and I became zombie-like which didn't endear me to my co-workers. I became depressed in the workplace thereafter; taking too any sick days. It bubbled and boiled in my head and I finally quit in April 2011.

Friends have said they were amazed I stuck it out for so long at that workplace. I guess that could be why I've been so reluctant to step back into another, for fear of poor relations with co-workers.

Anyway look; I've been told by more than one person that my public speaking has been fantastic. I'm gradually rebuilding confidence. God knows I was a shell of a person when I left the Shire of Yarra Ranges. Awful place.

Schizoaffective or Bipolar? Does it matter???

2011-11-13T14:29:00.000+11:00

My Psychiatrist is a Latvian fellow aged about 45. He surprised me last visit by saying "your bipolar or schizoaffective features...etc etc", as if it were a toss up betwen the two as to what diagnosis I had. Bizarrely, I felt affronted: I have always identified as Schizoaffective, especially after my worst hospital admission in 2003, whe I was 33. The chief Psychiatrist at that hospital said in my discharge meeting (with the registrar, my contact nurse and parents present) that I had a "Schizoaffective Psychosis" at that time. I was in that hospital as an involuntary patient for 7 weeks; 2 weeks in high dependancy ("the fishbowl" looks over you 24/7). So I always tougts that schizoaffective was my diagnosis. So to have my present Psych (of the past 3 years) say in his Ruski-style accent that I might be Bipolar took me by surprise.

I looked up the ever-reliable (???) Wikipedia and gleaned that to be deemed schizoaffective, one must have either (a), (b), (c), or (d) features (look it up if it piques your interest) PLUS have disorganised or chaotic thoughts for two weeks or more. That's been true for me three times; each hospitalisation I've been convinced my parents are evil or that conspiracy theories abound. At my sickest I not only heard voices but hallucinated; thankfully that's only happened once (2003, aged 33). I know I've had it easy compared with some schizoaffective people.

Why does it matter what my label is? I guess I attribute a certain level of gruesome torment to psychosis (which I'm aware Bipolar people can be afflicted with too). It probably doesn't help that psychosis, or schizophrenia, has been misunderstood (eg: media reports of police shooting a psychotic person waving samurai swords) or misinterpreted (movies like "A Beautiful Mind" get some elements rights but either gloss over or get other things dreadfully wrong).

Maybe its the type of mystique that psychosis has? That people who only read or hear about it can't begin to imagine? Why do I want to be known as Schizoaffective instead of BiPolar?

Depression is almost starting to become understood (although it has a long way to go) by the wider community. BiPolar is almost nudging its way into mainstream consciousness thanks to movies and people with Bipolar who manage to contribute brilliant things to society. I said almost.....acceptance has unfortunately a long way to go yet.

However the psychotic illnesses remain cold, as far as I see. I think it freaks a lot of people out; they get scared; they imagine axes swinging and all sorts of violence and unpredictability. I know, I know.....BiPolar people endure psychosis...very real, stark and horrific/hospital involuntary stay-type of psychosis. Please don't think I am minimising what anyone with Bipolar in distress goes through; it's horrific, I've seen it in people I've been in hospital with.

Anyway look at the end of the day a label is a label. I've seen people make careers out of their label (as public speakers, authors etc). So why the fuck shouldn't I take ownership and pride in mine?

Ran out of Zyprexa last night

2011-11-13T13:31:00.000+11:00

So I didn't sleep till 4am and woke as usual at 7am. Got on Facebook and chatted a bit (to my friend who I've posted about; we're all ok again in spite of my transgressions). At 9.30 started to feel a tightness in my chest, which intensified around my heart. I didn't smoke for over an hour and sipped water while I chatted online. Then I realised it was a panic attack probably brought on by missing my nightly 15mg of Zyprexa (hence the sleeplessness). So I showered and ate; had my morning meds and took the dog for a walk. It helped for about half an hour then the chest pain started again. So I hot-tailed it to the pharmacy and got my Zyprexa wafer script filled. Thank Christ they had them in stock (unusual for a Sunday).

Got home and the tightness continued. Tried distracting myself, then it hit me: a scotch and coke. Fucking alcohol will ease this panic. I can't take any more meds till tonight when they are due, so how to get through today? Pepsi Max and cigs will only intensify anxiety. Jack Daniels and Coke 4 pack pre-mixed for $20 (we have an outrageous 'alco-pops' tax in Australia on pre-mixed drinks to supposedly curb teenage binge drinking....it has only succeeded in driving up sales of bottles of pure spirits) will do the shot. Then I think....think through this drunk (not a drink, a drunk, for that's what it will be). I weigh up the pro's and cons. After 15mins of Will I Won't I, I shoot inside, grab my purse and keys and head out to the shops. Fifteen minutes later I am in the Bottle-O with the aformentioned JD & coke. I get home, roll three cigs, and slowly let the nectar down while inhaling and exhaling nicotine. Heaven.

After the second can, I think to myself: This is where a mild to moderate drinker thinks; "I've got that warm glow; I feel a bit giddy and giggly (because they are in company; they usually would never drink alone); I must stop now, I don't like being out of control." That's of course unless they are coping with a crisis: the death of a loved one, a lost job, the disintegration of a relationship, eviction from a rental....etc etc. Social, or moderate drinkers don't get tiddled on their own at around 1pm on a Sunday like I have done today.

I was coping with a panic attack. I am feeling alone today. I am trying to just heal and get over a moderate manic and depressive episode. I would never normally run out of Zyprexa; the past week has seen me preoccupied with my thoughts (well dah....what's new) and how I conduct myself to the extent that I haven't looked out for myself on a practical level. I've lost 2 kilos. I'm disinterested in food. Granted, the weight loss is welcomed considering I sit at a ballooning 85 kilos. Yet the carpet needs vaccuming, the garden needs weeding...eyeyaiyai...ohh Mister Hart...whattamess!!!

On the plus side I've walked my dog the past 3 mornings; that's a first. A bonus from quitting the pamphlet delivery job; walk for pleasure. The dog likes it immensely. It feels good.

I resurrected my dining room from being the engine room for sorting pamphlets (table chocked up on old university textbooks to prevent me leaning and getting a bad back; it looked awful, plus I had to eat my meals on my lap in front of the telly), to being a place where I roll my smokes and eat meals. Plus I put all the good chinaware back on the dresser (it used to house stacks of catalogues when I would sort them onto the dining table into bundles). So that feels and looks better.

Finally, despite having had 2 cans of JD and coke at 2pm on a Sunday and only 3 and a bit hours sleep, I feel quite lively. The Zyprexa really must be a knockout drug; usually by now (after takin gmy usual nightly dose and getting to sleep, say, by 10pm) I am feeling drowsy and in need of a one hour kip or so; that's if I'm up by 7am, which I am most mornings. One way around it is to get up with my dog and then doze in my armchair till 9am; she dozes too. Yet often I feel the early/mid arvo sleepies.

Oh well; medication like Zyprexa keeps me out of hospital: given the past week's activity one would think I'd be particularly grateful about that. I am.

Doofus...total foot in mouth doofus

2011-11-12T16:57:00.000+11:00

In case you don't know, a doofus is a fool of a person; that's me today. Soon after I posted the last piece of vitriole regarding my friend, my facebook window beeped: she had messaged me. We chatted for the next hour; I did virtually everything possible to sabotage our friendship. I didn't get outright nasty, just a bit snide and totally judgemental (you only need to read my last post to get a sense of that). To my astonishment she didn't get mega-defensive; rather, she turned the mirror on me. She said she has refrained from doing this in the past as it would have hurt my feelings; it did hurt a bit, but I appreciated her candour.

Her assessment was that since I quit my job in April I have become increasingly bored and angry; she said I vent my anger through pointing out faults in people like herself, which in her case is true. Before you think I send missiles of hate to anyone unlucky enough to befriend me, let me say this is not true. I have steady, warm and giving relations with a few friends. I have, let me think about this; 5 friends; 6 including the one I have spoken about here. I am closest to (lets call her) Diana, the woman in question; we chat everyday on facebook for an hour and text evry second day or so. I guess I see her once every 3 weeks, which isn't bad consdering she lives 45mins away. Normally we just laugh about things like pets etc (we both have dogs) and whatever is going on for us. She's been a great friend to me, and yet today I tried to provoke her into ending our friendship by being tarty and sour.

It didn't last long thank god (the disagreeing). She has many friends; at least a dozen, that's just the way she is. I feel jealous of her sociability at times. I get angry about being solitary. I get angry about lacking confidence in myself around others, whether its in a work or social environment. I hate being overweight from being hungry thanks to Epilim and Zyprexa. I am trying very hard to lose weight. I feel like people in shops stare at me and think "you greedy pig ugly cunt of a woman".

I said to Diana that if I got a terminal disease that part of me would say YAY now I can get off this stupid planet. To my surprised she agreed with me. She must be depressed.

I guess its not all about me after all. Logically I know this of course. Living alone can make one very selfish.

Fucked up another friendship

2011-11-12T10:22:00.000+11:00

I've been arguing with a good friend of mine the past 48 hours; I won't detail it but suffice to say I have had reservations about her behaviour (not the first time). I pointed out what I saw was occurring and she became defensive at first then attacked me. Mind you this has all been on Facebook messaging, our usual way of communicating as she has no landline phone and mobile calls are not cheap. The upshot is that our friendship is in a precarious position (not the first time), yet I would really miss her were we to part ways.

I once described myself on this blog as possibly being "a hard-wired anti-social bitch". That's not entirely true. I worked out recently that I don't suffer fools gladly, and should someone say or do something which rubs me the wrong way, instead of voicing how I feel there and then I just swallow it and think to myself "you idiot" (about them). I guess that's not being totally uncharitable; I'm entitled to have an opinion like anyone else; and to not blurt out my disapproval might be showing tact, not cowardice in expressing myself.

It's just that, in the case of a friend continually saying and doing things which don't sit well with me, there's only so much swallowing one can do, before I let rip with how I really feel. This is particularly easy to do in the Facebook messaging style of communication. Cowardly possibly, but easy to get to the heart of things instead of tippy-toeing around.

The upshot is that I've hurt my friend's feelings; I wasn't vicious or malicious I should point out; just blunt. The nature of our disagreement is about money, judgement and families; enough said.

I suppose, truth be told, I can be a bit of a bitch. I don't have a black heart though; I treat friends with kindness, patience and respect. Like anyone, I have a tolerance level, and when that gets pushed, of course I will react.

This friend has many, many friends to support her when in need. I hope she lets her defences down enough to listen to advice to help her out of her predicament, not to get them to sympathise and rescue her as she continually has done again and again over the years I have known her.

She too has a mental illness; profound depression and PTSD. Our ability to empathise with each other has been a foundation of our friendship, and yet it divides us when one or the other is needy due to symptoms flaring for either of us. Frequently we become sick at the same time, or thereabouts.

I used to describe this friend to myself as "lurching from one state of crisis to the next", which, while harsh, has more than a ring of truth to it. Before you think; You Heartless Bitch, let me summarise;

Feb 2009 - gets the sack from her job; I give her $400 of cash and groceries;

June 2009 - regains her job as a casual but works minimal amount of nightshifts needed to get by; constantly cries poor;

Dec-Jan 2009-10 - stays at my house a dozen times with her unruly pitbull due to being fearful of bushfires when the weather is hot (she lives in a rural area); her dog decimates my curtains and ruins a blanket of mine from my deceased grandmother;

June 2010 - Feb 2011 - becomes involved in an internet scam romance with a Serbian woman who asks for money; she gets her passport Dec 2010 and plans to start a new life with the Serbian until she realises the woman is married (via Facebook);

March2011- Sept 2011 - has chronic problems with her teeth which causes severe physical illness;

October 2011 - The lease expires on her rental and a housesharing arrangement falls though; she is homeless for 2 weeks then gets a loan from a bank and signs a new lease;

Nov 2011 - Her rustbucket car conks out; she hasn't worked in over a month; she is rejected to get finance for a new car.

Now one might say: shit she's had a terrible run of bad luck, the poor thing. Yes it's true, she has had a lot of bad stuff happen; but a lot of it was PREVENTABLE had she used good common sense. She continues to fall over again and again, and reaches out for help from anyone who will listen. Her family want nothing to do with her; well thats not true, but they are very wary of her having assisted her in the past (over the past 15 years).

So why do I stay friends with her, or her with me for that matter? I'm not sure. I know how this looks; you might be saying With Friends Like You Who Needs Enemies? I just don't see the point in not trying to be practical with her, instead of just stroking her hand and saying There There (believe me, I have done that approach time and time and time again...she absorbs it like a sponge).

I'm sending this out into cyberspace because part of me is furious and I need to vent. I've talked to other friends of mine about her. I've talked to my psychologist about her. This venting to other people has been going on for years.

So...again...why stay friends?? I don't know. I honestly don't know. She won't change and neither will I. If it does end though, I will miss her.

Feel like nobody cares and yet logically I know that they do

2011-11-08T19:53:00.000+11:00

Mood Indigo. Has been all day. Come down from a wave of a high that ran for 5 days till I noticed. On Sunday I was going gangbusters: a hot day up at 7am then out delivering pamphlets (I do a low paid catalogue delivery run which on avg pays a paltry $25 per 1000 that I deliver) which I got done by 10am. Then mowed the lawn in sweltering heat. Then went out and shopped; got home at midday and realised that although the temperature was 30 degrees (Celsius), I was in a tracksuit and felt cool. I looked down at my long-haired dog who was flaked out on the tiles in the heat, and realised maybe all my energy and great mood were not to be trusted. So I rang my Psychiatrist's consulting rooms, or rather, the hospital he works at, seeing it was a Sunday.

They paged him and he called within the hour, told me to take 400mg of Epilim on the spot then my usual nightly meds with dinner then to cut out my anti depressant the next 2 days and to call him Tuesday. Today. Which I did; at 2pm by which stage I was feeling beyond Indigo....beyond blue...into grey and blackness. The type of black where you curl up in a chair with your knees hugging to your chest while you cross your arms and stare at a spot for 15mins before you realise you are staring. You put the radio on and notice all the sad lyrics for a change instead of mostly the tune and melody. You don't want to eat. You don't even feel much like smoking a cigarette. Worst of all you can't cry, which is what you feel like doing, and you crave the healing salty tears as your body shudders into sobs and your nose runs.

I rang a friend who said she was going to call and check how I was at 3pm; I'd given her a fair amount of time to have made the caring call to me. She was in the middle of something; she noted that I sounded down; she said she'd ring in a week or so when she got a chance. People don't much like talking to depressed people; it may seem like the depressed one is just feeling needlessly sorry for themselves and engaging in self-indulgence. It can be hard to talk to a depressed person; they sound sooooo flat and defeatist and negative; it's confronting and to many people is not something they want to deal with at the best of times. I can't blame my friend for shying away from conversing with me in flat mode today. It hurt at the time though. The whole nobody cares thing. Such a powerful voice in my addled mind. Destructively strong.

I distracted myself on the internet for most of the afternoon: thank god for the anonymous, ever-present internet. I stayed away from Facebook, where I have a grand total of 19 friends: I don't see the point in friending someone you've never met, let alone got to know in real life. I have a skewed view of friendship, it's true to say: when i am acutely manic I am unbearable (babble babble babble about myself and get irritable and critical of people when I connect with them); ditto when depressed, as described above. Hence I have a very refined tendency to alienate myself socially. Plus I've been burned a lot. I know, I know; who hasn't been burned??? No reason to get bitter and twisted, right?

I wish I could say, right on; you live and learn; be good to those who love you; be considerate and help others, be a friend to have a friend; etc etc . Stop being self-centred.

I've tried. Here's proof: over the past 5 years I made 3 close friends. There was give and take in all friendships, but ultimately I ended up being 'the sympathetic ear' more often than not. In some ways I behaved like an unpaid therapist, which is how a lot of friendships work, and it's about showing genuine care for someone you like a lot. But things got weird; suffice to say all 3 people are no longer my friends. There was only so much I could give. I had to step away.

I've been rejected by more friends I would be able to readily add up right now, mostly due to my illness making me unbearable. Sometimes it was through my insensitivity and careless comments, which I totally regret doing and saying. At the end of the day, whether the friendships were ended by me (a handful) or by others (dozens), it's left me in a state of having few friends. Very few. So much so that I don't celebrate my birthday with friends. My birthday ius coming up in a few weeks and I'll go out to dinner with my ageing parents. I'm lucky they are still alive. I love them deeply. They put up with my moods. I try not to inflict them on Mum and Jeff too much. They are great.

So in solitude I write this. The indigo will give way to a brighter colour on the spectrum. My anti depressant will kick in eventually if not already.

Hell....I'm alive. I don't yet have diabetes or any major health scare...just a blip in the head which usually is manageable. I'm lucky to be treated for it and have a roof over my head and food in the belly. And a little dog who licks my face. That helps.

28 degrees Celsius today hooray

2011-10-19T08:50:00.000+11:00

Summer is just around the corner with Melbourne having its warmest day today since last Autumn. For me this means having salads for dinner and leaving doors open to air out the house and being able to wear a t-shirt all day without being cold. For my furry companion Floss it means splaying out on the cool bathroom tiles and having lots of gulps of water; I had Floss clipped a couple of weeks back but she stills feels the heat.

Have to leave in an hour to be part of a paid discussion group for mental health; which approaches helped me recover, which didn't etc. Then it's on to my monthly catchup with the shrink; hopefully we can discuss going on to any alternative antipsychotics than Zyprexa, my zombifying balloon-fat-making drug. He tried me on Abilify but that made me REally zombie-like, with serious blunted affect and inability to animate which impacted on all my social constructs and hence diminished my confidence dramatically. I tried Zeldox but that made me restless and also had my right leg 'pinging' up on its own from the knee joint which would have been a danger when driving. So here's hoping he thinks I'm stable and that there's something decent and new happening.

Am still delivering catalogues; have to finish my run today as I felt mega tired yesterday and only got half done; I overdid things on Monday while helping a friend get organised for moving house and wore myself out. Am still realising my limits when it comes to energy levels; it's also greatly affected if I have more than 2 drinks a day, so I try not to. I didn't have any drinks last night so here's hoping i can get through today the best I can muster.

Gotta fly....seeyou!! :)

Warmer weather, my dog and walking walking walking

2011-09-22T20:11:00.000+10:00

My beautiful dog Flossie xo

So it's late September at nearly 8pm and the wind is mild; my dog is outside fossicking around. Yesterday she caught a big black spider and every time I went near her to kill it (it looked seriously menacing) she gleefully ran off with it in her mouth whilst waggling her bushy tail. Then she proceeded to bat at the poor beast with her paws till it curled up its legs in self-defence. THEN to my horror she picked it up in her mouth and ATE it. Fearless Flossie, I call her (Flossie being her name). The other night we had a thunderstorm; she barked angrily at the rumbling; sticking her furry head out beyond the curtains to blink at the lightning. Again, fearless.

I think it's the terrier in her; she's a cross between a shih tsu, a terrier and a pekinese, which basically means she's fluffy and cute. It also means that, as a stray whom I adopted from a shelter she's been allowed to get away with murder by her previous owners, and she has a fair few challenging behavious which I'm trying to train her out of, like whining for food when I eat my meals, biting at my feet when I walk if she gets excitable, ripping furniture when bored, barking incessantly at people who walk past our front window...the list goes on. And she isn't toilet trained. She's challenging but worth it. I now have a furry friend who greets me enthusiastically when I come home. She curls up with me on my bed at night and we snore in unison. When I rub her belly she sighs and licks my hand. My companion, my Floss poss (short for possum, an Australian native animal she barks at if they jump on the roof at night).

I haven't been walking her as much as I should (ie: every day). Lately I've taken on a second job delivering catalogues to letterboxes; I do it twice a week and the delivery takes me over 2 1/2 hours to do, which feels great but is tiring. Not so good is the time it takes to collate the various catalogues into one parcel (Ie: fold 8 or 9 catalogues into one bundle per letterbox); usually around 3-4 hours to do this. For all this work I get around $30; I'm paid per 1000 catalogues I deliver. It's a massive rip-off, but I'm mainly doing it for the exercise. Whether I can maintain doing it long term is another question, but with the weather warming up I feel inclined to continue. Am still giving the talks about mental illness to schoolkids, but that will wind down as they approach their final exams in October/November. I might have to look for better paying work, but so far I'm managing. I'm learning to shop at discount sores and to budget better. So for all that it's piss-poor paid, the walking I'm doing delivering catalogues is suiting me at the moment. It's great for depression: non-existant at present. So, yeah, happy at the mo :)

Talking about having a mental illness

2011-08-23T17:35:00.000+10:00

I'm getting paid to talk to school groups about what it's been like for me having a mental illness. Secondary school kids who are studying psychology pretty much. I've done two talks; so far so good. The kids have been attentive and some ask insightful questions afterwards. Things like Did Art Therapy help you when you were sick and what would happen if you didn't take your medication. I guess it's a good thing to be able to share with schoolkids about what it feels like to be unwell and to be well; helps debunk some myths hopefully.

I spend a fair bit of time talking about what its like being in hospital and also what was running through my head when I was sick. I'm careful to balance that with how I think when I'm well.

So far, so good; hopefully I can keep doing this regularly and not ever have to go back to soul-destroying office work.

Goodbye to Amy Winehouse

2011-07-24T09:39:00.000+10:00

Is it really surprising? When every news article over the past few years had Amy Winehouse being booed at live shows for being 'erratic' in performance and slurring? The reports of further admissions to rehab? Still and all the same, to hear that Amy Winehouse has died, most probably from a drug and alcohol overdose is still saddening. I think it is anyway. Her albumn Back to Black is a classic, spawning soundalikes like Duffy who emulated her retro 60's motown style. The way she maintained her bouffant hair and black black eyeliner in public appearances. Yet Amy will most probably be remembered for her train wreck of a battle with substances, which ultimately robbed her of her life. Like Janis Joplin. Ironically she has also taken her last breath aged 27; that voodoo age which claimed Joplin, Hendrix, Morrison and Cobain. The troubled musicians curse.

Sorry you've left us Amy Winehouse; I was looking forward to your next album.

Domestic happiness

2011-07-19T08:34:00.000+10:00

Am settling in well with my 1 year old dog from the animal shelter; Flossy. Have just about mastered toilet training (it's me with any errors, not her), but have a few behavioural issues to get over, such as her barking when I leave her alone and also carrying on when I eat. Am going to the animal trainer today so we'll see how things pan out.

Had an interview to be on a committee of mental health consumers who do a monthly review of drug and alcohol services for dual diagnosis people in my region. They said I'll hear from them soon. They said the committee is monitored by the department of Human Services (State govt body) so it has some 'teeth'. Will look good on the resume anyway, if not a learning and contributing experience.

Last week I had an interview for a temp job with the ABS (Australian Bureau of Statistics) to be a data collector for the upcoming 6 yearly census. It's more data entry type work, which while not thrilling would help financially. Will hear from them in upcoming weeks hopefully. The job was to be 5 days a week for 5 hours a day, which would be taxing for me as it is an hour-long train trip to the city for me, making it over a 7 hour day. I requested in my interview to hav ea 16 hour week; whether that's possible I don't know. We'll see.

Got a referral to a drop in group for psych illness-affected people who do many walking activities, cooking classes, go out for coffees etc. Have had appointment s the past week or so which have precluded me from participating but hope to join in soon and meet some new people. Have been pretty isolated socially for some time now; have been preoccupied with my dog lately but still need some sort of ppl interaction.

Otherwise have been relatively content; it makes a big difference not to be stressed out about an unhappy workplace.

Got me a doggett

2011-07-03T09:13:00.000+10:00

Last Tuesday I adopted a dog from the pound. She is a 1 year old terrier/spaniel/shi tzu mix; caramel coloured; mischevous as a monkey and totally adorable. I am in love. My camera's out of batteries, hence no pix yet, but will get some when I get paid my next pension. Am still out of work, although have done some training to do public speaking engagements on behalf of the mental illness fellowship about what it's like to have a mental illness. Will be speaking to schools, community groups and university students. I can't make a living out of it, despite being well paid ($32 an hour); i would be doing a 2 hour talk per month max. So the hunt for work goes on.

Back to Flossie; yes that's the dog's name. That's what the pound named her and it suits her. Am trying to toilet train her with minor success. She gets separation anxiety; tends to follow me like a shadow, so am trying to restrict her access to certain areas, which is met with much crying and barking (ie: when I leave a room and shut her in). I have a secure backyard but tend to leave her in the laundry if I go out, just for these early stages. She likes to chew sticks and I have visions of her lodging one in the roof of her mouth. I know it sounds worrywart, but she's the 1st dog I've ever owned; I'm on a steep learning curve. The pound offers post-adoptive training for $30 an hour which I think i will need.

A downside is that she is a longhaired breed, which will need grooming. I tried brushing her, but have to get her when she's subdued; she tends to want to eat the brush! She had her dewclaws removed, along with being spayed hence is wearing an elizabethan collar to stop her chewing her stitches. Her stitches come out this Thursday.

She sleeps on my bed; the only way I manage to fall asleep is by having a few beers prior to bed. She makes sounds when she dreams; muffled 'wuff' and growls softly. Otherwise she nestles into my side. I'm allowing myself to drink temporarily, as I get stressed about having a new creature in my home that I have to supervise and pay attention to. Sounds alien of me to say that when dealing with a cute bundle of fluffy doggie fun, but that's the truth. The 1st day I was very stressed; I wanted a valium. I thought of ringing my Doc to get a PRN of valium, but was afraid he'd say no or (worse) that he'd say having a dog wasn't good for me.

Anyway, I'm seeing the D&A counsellor tomorrow. Will try and sort this drinking thing out. Financially I can't afford to drink, plus it's beginning to affect my mood. Seeyou.

Unemployment sux

2011-05-24T16:51:00.000+10:00

HHmmmm....what to do??? Here's the avg routine...get up 9.30; have a coffee and 2 fags while listening to talkback radio; make a 2nd coffee and turn on the computer and have 2 more fags. Browse email, Facebook and the newspaper. 10.30-ish have a shower. 10.45 breakfast. 11ish send my friend who has no landline a text then hop onto Facebook and chat to her for an hour or so. 12.30 put a museli bar in my bag and go out to a 1pm AA meeting. 3-3.30pm home again. Try phoning one or two people. Back on the net. Check the nightly television schedule. Investigate possible courses I can enrol in for some career development. Still a bit baffled as to what sort of job to apply for. One that pays, yes, I know. One that gets me off the couch and into society; that too. There's volunteer work which I'm waiting to get a response about. I'm not working in an op-shop, or doing meals on wheels. Maybe I could volunteer on the help lines at the agency who helps me look for work. Yes maybe that's a start.

Hmm....I got distracted from telling about my yawnsome routine. Not much more to tell really. Eat dinner, watch telly, go to bed. Sigh. NEEDS A JOB, I DO!!!!!!

slowwwing down, slowing down

2011-05-18T16:08:00.000+10:00

Fark!!! I got a bit hypomanic in patches over the past 48 hours. I didn't realise how kooked up I'd been till I went out to a meeting yesterday and ended up being very verbose, yammering away at a poor lady who probably just wanted to escape. I think I know now how many elderly folk feel; at home alone (sans computer skills) maybe listening to the radio or watching telly, stroking a cat or dog if they're lucky, missing their deceased partner, their busy adult kids, their busy grandkids etc.

Unlike an elderly person in the picture I've painted, I have a computer (which I've been using massively), I can walk a few km's to get the paper which my eyesight allows me to see, I can get in my car and go places, my body isn't racked with arthritis or other ailments. I have a lot of good fortune really.

However for whatever reason my instinct wants me to stay indoors and prowl around like a cat, staring out the window at the passing traffic and curl up on the couch in front of the gas heater. Isolating, eating, smoking etc. Then I start to get very stir-crazy (as would anyone), so much so that when I eventually have human contact I want talk. And talk. And TALK. Just the way my gran would when she was still alive, bless her soul.

So yesterday I was particularly talkative, both in 3-D then later at home in chat on Facebook. I ended up staying up late, which wasn't showing much commonsense as I had an early appointment today. Hence now, late afternoon, I am weary, but thankfully, have slowed down.

I contemplated deleting a post I did a couple of days ago, where I detailed a brief sexual fantasy involving me and a pretty woman. I mean why would I expose that sort of soft underbelly, even to a close friend, let alone the www??

I decided to leave it mainly because it's nothing to be ashamed of, and it shows how brief a hypomanic episode can be for me. Today I feel as sexless as a turd in the sun; not the way I felt some 40 odd hours back, but anyway. As a compromise I exchanged my real profile pic to one of a ridiculous female bodybuilder. The last thing I wanted was for anyone to read that fantasy piece of mine trying to imagine me with Joelene! EEwww..

It's now 4.30pm and the air has turned very cool. Time to shut the doors and stop airing out the smoke, which had begun to constitute a stench. My folks are dropping by Friday; I'm guessing they want to check that I'm looking after myself and my surroundings ok. And to snoop for evidence that I'm drinking, which I'm not. Sometimes I tell myself that's about the best thing I can say about myself today: I didn't drink.

I'm bored out of my fucking mind being unemployed!!!!!!!!!!!

Lior ~ This Old Love

2011-05-17T17:30:00.000+10:00

I love this song by Aussie songwriter Lior; would love to play it at my wedding one day!!

Telly, the gas heater and isolating

2011-05-16T15:26:00.000+10:00

Hibernation, I believe is the correct phrase to surmise this title. Chuck in a bit of low-lying depression, some sleep apnoea and feeling unmotivated, and that's my basic portrait from the past week or so.

It's hit home that I can't spend money like I used to when working; I've been budgeting like a ferret-nosed bookish accountant. Today I bought groceries and stuck to my list looking for the 'on-special stuff' at Coles, like a 2kg unwashed bag of spuds for $2.50 and a medium sized fresh chook for $6.30. I'm going to chop the chook in half and roast it with spuds and pumpkin tonight; that should do 2 meals. I'll freeze the other chook half. So it's not all bad being frugal, foodwise at least.

I can see why lower socio-economic groups tend to have obesity problems; if you only have an extra $50 in your weekly budget it goes farther on food than on other items. I can feel like I'm spoiling myself by doing as I did today and allowing myself a couple of things that weren't on my list, like peanut M&M's and a chocolate milk. The $7.50 I spent on these things won't do my waistline etc. any favours, but what can I buy for that amount as a treat for myself? I guess I could go to the $2 shop and get some sort of knick-knack. I could go to the op-shop and hope to find a jumper or some piece of clothing that hasn't lost its shape or gotten little 'balls' on it from friction. I could find a second hand book on Amazon easily, but the shipping cost (around $15 per book to Australia) would bump it up.

In the end I bought the daily newspaper, which is always more satisfying (to me) to read than the online versions. Call me a creature of habit, but I infinitely prefer a real paper or book than e-papers or e-books. Doesn't hurt your eyes as much. Plus the feel of the paper in your fingers. Anyway I digress.

I booked my car in for a service this Friday, which will be around $100. My mobile mechanic Dan is an honest and reliable man, who doesn't charge the way most mechanics do (avg. would be at least double that).

Otherwise it's been a case of watching DVD's and telly, which can be ok, although you get a bit bored with it. The ads drive me spare. I don't feel motivated to do any screenplay writing at present. I forced myself to go out for a walk today and will do so again tomorrow, along with doing an AA meeting. Wednesday I see my psychiatrist and break the news that I am not working. He will not be pleased. What's done is done; I can't go back to work now, I need time.

Too much time, not enough $$$$

2011-05-10T16:36:00.000+10:00

So it's nearly two weeks ago that I resigned from work. Things are ok, if a bit slow. I've gone through my last pay check like it was water; last week I told myself the $600 or so dollars I had in my account would go towards having my car serviced and going for a dental checkup. Now there's only about a hundred. I get paid this week, my final payout, which won't be huge but it will be the most I'll see for a while. I'm fortunate to have the disability pension to fall back on (with a schizoaffective diagnosis I have been deemed a legitimate recipient by all my psychiatrists, who have said that all I can manage is part time work; when I am employed I receive a part pension, not much but better than nothing). I don't intend on being unemployed long, but need to work on my workplace fears as previously mentioned.

I saw my psychologist today in a bid to work through this very thing; I also saw my D&A counsellor earlier today. The D&A lady said I need to Notice my thoughts regarding social interaction and feelings of fear and insecurity and then to Challenge them. She pointed out that the few people I have problems with (eg: when I was at work I had the bully, in AA there's a rough woman who is always rude to me) could well create problems for others too; to not view myself as an isolated case. She mentioned a heap of other stuff too which I've forgotten; I wish I could tape our sessions; she's like Yoda to me. Might have to take notes next time. She picked up that I was not in a good frame of mind in our last session and out of concern rang my psychiatrist in case I self harmed. I wrote myself off with alcohol that day, like totally, but didn't take my pills. My angst was with work. Then I had the Easter break then I quit. But anyway.

The clinical psychologist is a younger woman but has a very logical head on her shoulders. She works from her head more than the D&A lady, who tends to use intuition, experience and gut. I respect both of them, they just have a different approach. She was happy that I am nearly 3 weeks sober. Itold her I'd also been walking and going to AA, that these gave me some structure. They were up until late last week: since Sunday I have neither walked nor been at a meeting. Autumn is morphing into an early winter here; this morning it was around zero degrees Celsius in my suburb....very hard to get out of a warm bed and go walking. It's also been pretty foggy lately too.

Excuses excuses. The past week or so I have been out shopping and have spent over $500. I'm not elevated: if I were I'd be up at the crack of dawn, doing heaps of housework, emailing a million people etc etc. That hasn't happened. I suspect the expenditure has been a bit of denial on my behalf about being unemployed and having to curb my budget. Like it's been 'one last splurge' just for the hell of it. The scary thing is how easy it is to spend up on stuff you don't really need, like cheap DVD's, warm tracksuit pants (ok, I did need these and they only cost $9.99 at Dimmey's), a new grey hoodie (meant to inspire me to go out and huff 'n' puff up hills like Rocky Balboa), lunches out, coffees out etc etc.

Today at Eastland shopping centre I was killing time between appointments. A hawker with a stall stopped me to ask what face cream I used. Before I knew it, this charming well-groomed young man had me rubbing my hands over a basin using "Israeli Sea Salt" from the dead sea (purportedly). He used a spray bottle of water on my hands for me to rinse, and they felt incredibly smooth. He then put on some lovely smelling moisturiser and proceeded to tell me that normally the exfoliator ('a year's supply worth')would be $100, the moisturiser $50, but he would be happy to sell me the two for $120. I looked him in the eye and told him I'd just quit work a week or so ago. He came in close and lowered his voice and said "in that case...I can give you the exfoliator for only $50, but you must (motions to his lips) zip it and keep the price to yourself". I had a fifty dollar note burning a hole in my wallet, my last before payday this Thursday. Before I could tell myself You Don't Need This, I whipped out the wallet and smiled "ok", feeling demure, attended to and satisfied. Silly old me!!! The stuff was probably only worth half that!!! AARRGH!! A sucker for a good looking young man with a European accent. And I'm fucking gay!!! That guy must make a killing, clever fella.

Wonder how he goes picking up the chickybabes in the nightclubs??

Hello unenployment!!

2011-05-04T17:14:00.001+10:00

So it's been a week since I quit work. I emailed them last Wednesday (my normal day off); they rang me that day and said I needn't come back in, that they'd pay me for the 2 weeks notice plus my untaken annual leave. That was decent of them. I'd mentioned my anxiety etc. in my resignation and that I wasn't sure if I could make it back in but would try. I went in Friday and handed back my security pass and signed some forms; there was no farewell morning tea for me (I wasn't really expecting one not being chummy with anyone there). Still it felt a pretty hollow way to leave. I went to say goodbye to my managers and they were deep in conversation; I waited a moment, then waited, then just breezed past and waved "seeya" then left.

So since then I've been walking everyday for about an hour. I go to about 5 AA meetings a week (the drinking had started again before Easter and it turned ugly). I watch the odd DVD. I read the newspaper online everyday and listen to the radio. Other than that there are appointments to keep: psychiatrist, psychologist, employment counsellor and drug and alcohol counsellor. Most of these are 3-weekly, so there will be some weeks busier than others.

I'm yet to tee up having coffee with friends who either work flexible hours or who are also out of work; that will have to happen soon. I'm starting to feel a bit aimless. The "phew, I really did get away from that workplace I so Hated" feeling is still sort of there, but it has been joined by a new dialogue. The Count Your Pennies voice (not a 'voice' in the schizoid sense, just thoughts). I bought myself a pouch of tobacco and rolling papers in anticipation of not being able to afford to smoke tailored cigarettes anymore (the cheapest pack of 25's is $12.50 here). However after a day of smoking 'rollies' I found I had a wheezy cough, so today I bought a couple of packs of tailoreds again. It will be hard to give up the smokes, harder than drinking. I don't know when I will try to give up but can't see it happening soon...they are a timekiller, a punctuation point in the day, a companion (albeit odious and odoursome!). I know the smokes are killing me. I will cease them soon. Before turning 45. I'm 41 now; I would say 42 or 43 but I sense I might need a few attempts to quit. That's certainly been the case with drinking.

I'm mostly enjoying not being at work overall, although I know I need to utilise this time fruitfully, without hesitation. Cram in a few sessions with the psychologist and the D&A counsellors - they're the most astute and intuitive. Me needs to sort out this workplace fear and it's origins, and how to overcome it.

End of my part time job

2011-05-01T16:22:00.001+10:00

I quit work last Wednesday; it had been coming for a while. Before Easter I had some moments when I couldn't concentrate and 'froze' mentally. I found myself sitting at my desk reading and re-reading papers I had to process and not being able to take stuff in. The panic this brought up was immense, and a few times I had to excuse myself from the office and go home early. It wasn't a case of 'go outside...take some deep breaths..ring your employment counsellor...get some support...go back in there'. This went deeper. Apparently the whole office was mocking me, laughing at my expense; this is what my mind told me. It wasn't pleasant.
I tried talking about this with my employment counsellor several times...she is a 23 year old in her first real graduate job who is a nice girl but very 'green'. I have mentioned my worries to my psychiatrist but he didn't seem to appreciate just how gripped by terror I was, stating I was better to stay in the same job 'where they understood and were accomodating of my illness'. Yeah right.
My psychologist acknowledged the unhappiness and encouraged me to look for other work, but warned me against quitting without having another job lined up.
It took my drug and alcohol counsellor to fully 'get' my pain and validate my feelings. I told her just before Easter I couldn't go in that day (Thursday). She didn't try to reverse my decision. I didn't know it then but I was putting the clamps on my jobs back then.
As Easter passed I got back into my AA meetings and tried not to think about work. That was until the day before I was due back. Then I had full on panic and anxiety. I knew I had to pull the pin. So I resigned via email. Then felt a massive sense of relief.
I have felt a lightness in my body which hasn't been there for a long, long time. When I drive I feel relaxed. I have started walking again. I no longer fear using my c-pap machine at night for fear it won't work and I'll get a shitty sleep which would mean tiredness at work the next day which would be Catastrophic.

Don't get me wrong; I would like to work. I think I need to work, not just financially, but for structure and self-esteem (to an extent). But I need also to sort out my anxieties in the workplace which, my drug and alcohol counsellor told me, will follow me wherever I go, even if it is a 'dream' job. So I intend on doing that before looking for work again.

I was fortunate to have a job at all with my lack of up-to-date skills. I didn't make this decision lightly. My family are all concerned and critical, but they don't have to front up there, I do. And I can't anymore. I will sort out my anxiety. I will try.

I need to change my profile blurb: "Middle aged part time worker with schizoaffective disorder..etc" I wonder why I put the worker bit in? As if I'm some exceptional person because in spite of being schizoaffective I was able to hold down a job? What a crock. I struggled every day in that job. Every fucking day. I hardly spoke to my co-workers because I was afraid of what would tumble out of my mouth (I can be very inappropriate at times). Just ducked my head down and worked, except to slip out for a smoke every couple of hours. This meant I wasn't friendly with anyone. I felt so alone in that office. My difficulty in communicating affected everything. Everything. We had a resident bully in the office and I was mostly her prime target. She had such a go at me one day I had fantasies of stabbing her in the throat. Serious fantasies. She was (is) a total cow. Sigh.

I guess I did pat myself on the back for managing to hold down a job when I found it pretty difficult for all the time I was there. I stayed for 3 years. I think I gave it a good enough try.

Royal Wedding Entrance Dance

2011-04-28T19:33:00.000+10:00

Royal Wedding Entrance Dance

I don't know about you all, but here in Australia we are having Royal Wedding overload!! Virtually every station is covering it tomorrow night. Me personally; I'll be watching AFL football: go Carlton!

Anyway I like the above take on how "the big day" will (not) go.

Hospital sweet hospital

2011-04-24T23:55:00.000+10:00

Said tongue in cheek, well...mostly. While being institutionalised for feeling suicidal and/or homicidal can hardly be regarded as fun, there can be moments of levity in a psych hospital. Like the guy I used to see out in the courtyard who took to clicking his heels sideways from time to time. One day he came out with his boots and put them on the table in front of me. Someone had thoughtfully tied up his laces tight in all sorts of knots. He slammed a fork next to them and grunted: "canya untie these for me? Some CUNT went and fucked them up". It took me a while, but my nimble fingers worked them into straight laces again. He gave me a couple of smokes for my efforts.
Then there was the guy who hated being medicated. We had to line up to get our meds from a mobile trolley outside the nurses station each night. One time, after he had been given his meds, he waddled away, baring his flabby bottom, as if to say "Youse are all Arseholes".
There was a girl who used to wear gaudy makeup; she got out energy by belting out The Power Ballad, circling around the courtyard screeching Celine Dion and Whitney Houston numbers. Her versions were infinitely more entertaining than the original, if a little hard on the ears.
Some people liked to order in pizza, whether they had the cash or not; they'd try their luck with the delivery boy saying "we'll get you the money tomorrow". Others were more blunt, saying stuff like "if you give me the pizza, i promise not to chew off your nose".
I woke up one morning only to have a huge aboriginal woman staring intently at me. "What do you want?" I cowered away; she hushed me "you sleep...you sleep". Apparently she hadn't slept for 48 hours and got relaxation watching others sleep. A couple of days later she stole all the womens' toiletries bags, picked what she wanted and put the items in the nicest bag she could find. That wasn't such a funny thing at the time, but I can laugh about it now.
Finally, there was a funny guy who used to play hide and seek with the nurses during the nights, when they had to do hourly checks. He would wander out of his room, finding hiding spots. One night he bolted into my room giggling and shut himself in my wardrobe, hushing his finger to his lips. Soon after, a nurse opened the door, flashlight in hand and shone it in my face. "Is Mark in here?" she skwarked. I shook my head and she left. Mark bolted out of my wardrobe after a minute or so, giggling all the time.
Of course bad stuff happened. Of course I often felt a whole lot of paranoia, fear and anger. It wasn't a holiday, not by a longshot. It really pisses me off when people say shit like: "ohhh, it must have been good going to hospital for a little rest", as if there are jacuzzis and masseurs and adonises fanning you with palm fronds. Phaw.
But it's not all bad in hospital. It wasn't for me, anyway.

Going toxic???

2011-03-31T11:33:00.000+11:00

I feel like I have a brick in my stomach. This is about the tenth time in the last month I've felt this way. A couple of weekends ago I thought I had gastro, as I had to toilet myself to relieve the symptom. Apologies for being graphic, but there's no other way to describe it.
It comes and goes, although the past weeks it's been happening more often. Then it occurred to me; I might be having a reaction to my meds. I googled "Epilim Lithium combination side effects" and went to wikipedia (aka the bible). Apparently Epilim may well be the precursor; too much and going toxic can cause nausea, diahoerrea etc.

My doctor increased my Epilim about a month ago to deal with a potential spike in speediness. I also feel light headed and dizzy; like all the blood has rushed from my head.
I just cancelled going into work, which I'm sure won't go down too well. I called my doctor and am waiting for him to ring me back.
Geez I feel sick. I'm going to lie down :(

Fight Club and movies

2011-03-17T21:53:00.000+11:00

That's right....when I started writing my last post I meant to comment on this DVD which I just watched tonight for the first time. The "I am Jack's Medulla Oblongata" phrase which another blogger on this site has in his title self-description. It'd alwaysed perplexed me what that phrase meant (a section of the brain which controls respiratory function and other essential things) and then I heard it tonight in fight club. Huh.

So I was watching this movie thinking When Does It Get to the Good Bit and pondering hmmm...aside from the undertones of homoeroticism and gratuitous violence I fail to see the point and then Whammo. So the protagonist is hallucinating about the Brad Pitt character. It did improve the quality of the film but all the far-fetched stuff about the explosions etc was a bit out there for me. I prefered A Beautiful Mind or the Australian film Angel Baby better.

There's still room for more stories about psychosis and mood swings. It's such a shame that hollywood will only finance those that have sellable features (eg: the fighting aspect in fight club along with the whole Fuck the Establishment side).

I had a vision the other day: in the next 5 to 10 years some bright spark willl invent software that will enable people to script, edit and direct a film with virtual characters. By 2030 Hollywood will be a bygone era; the ultranet will take over and individuals will be able to produce their own feature films (distributed freely online but aided by eg: product placement).

Maybe a wonky vision, but a vision just the same.

Solitary confinement and gaiety

2011-03-17T20:57:00.000+11:00

I like getting lost in a good flick, as most people do. I tend to watch DVD's at home rather than see them in Cinemas; here in Australia the average film costs $15 concession ($18 full adult), compared to buying a second hand DVD from pawn shops like Cash Converters for $4. I know, I know...it's easy to download movies illegally from the net, everyone does it etc. I'm on a pissy download plan for my internet and have never learned how to download something that I could put onto a disc and watch on my telly. I did download one show once...the original Underbelly underworld crime mini series that was banned in Victoria due to certain characters still facing trial in real life. I didn't regard it as much fun to perch on my computer swivel chair and watch my computer monitor (however 'riveting' at would have been to watch Alphonse Gangitano, The Morans and Carl Williams being their devillish gangsta-ish selves)so I haven't downloaded since. The point I'm getting to is that I like to own movies to watch at my leisure in my armchair where I can put my feet up and smoke if I want to. So I do.

It's one of my solitary pusuits that I relish doing, sometimes moreso than being in good company. I caught up with a friend I've known since primary school on Wednesday, we had a nice lunch and saw "The adjustment bureau" (crap film which had interesting elements but not properly built on...based on a Philip K Dick story but I would suggest somewhat loosely). It was great to see my friend but I would have been almost as happy to be there on my ownsome.

One place where my anti-social side hinders me is at work: I can't fake congeniality. Some times I need to put on a happy face and I find it excruiciating; like when someone asks for a registered mail envelope, or a bulk mailout, or I have to do the internal mail run. Phone service I'm fine with; I can put on a warm and an "I give a shit" voice, but in person I freeze. It's mostly the eye contact thing (impossible), often it's lack of warmth and difficulty expressing myself. Like today when I asked my co-worker to explain (for the 7th or 8th time) how to do something then I got an attack of the giggles. Very embarassing.

I get a modicum of comfort in reading the wikipedia page on schizoaffective disorder;

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Schizoaffective_disorder

especially when it mentions the DSM 1V criteria of affective flattening (lack or decline in emotional response). I know, it might sound bizarre to be comforted by the DSM 1V (don't yew fuckin label me...etc etc); I just mention it because I feel so inadequate to be robotic, and yet to see it written that flatness is to be expected with S/D....makes me feel like, well then I'm just behaving as much as my medicated body will let me. It's not as if I'm intending to be aloof. Can be easily misunderstood though.

I guess my tendency to have trouble communicating, whether if it's with a friend I know and trust or in the workplace will see me naturally retreating to the comfort of solitude. Mostly I distract myself with DVD's, television (I like some reality stuff like Survivor and the Amazing Race....Americans fascinate me with their intensity; also like Nurse Jackie, The Good Wife and of course AFL Football), the internet, reading (mostly biographies), housework, recently gardening and (god forbid) going for a walk, which incidentally, is the best anti-depressant I ever took (walking). I rarely get bored and lonely these days. I said to my friend last Wednesday at lunch that I could see myself being alone for the rest of my life and that it didn't bother me. That's partially true. It would be nice to meet someone, but that seems unlikely.

'Bout time I got myself a faithful hound!! :)

I accidentally overdosed on Zyprexa last week

2011-01-09T16:08:00.000+11:00

One night last week it got to about 11pm and I thought i'd forgotten to take my nightly Zyprexa, so I took my usual dose (15mg), then went to bed at about midnight. I was half awake half asleep an hour later when I had a gag reflex; I thought I was going to be sick. At first I thought it was the big bowl of cherries I'd eaten, but my stomach wasn't sore. Then I actually was sick twice. I noticed my arms and legs were very heavy. Then I went to sleep.

I didn't waken till 3pm the next day! 13++ hours straight!!

I told my shrink about it a couple of days later and he said it was too much Zyprexa, not cherries. He told me to use a dosette box to avoid such things happening again. Now I know what 30mg of Zyprexa feels like: not in a hurry to do a repeat performanace.

So I dragged out my old dosette box; the one the hospital gave me in 2003 when I had my longest hospitalisation ever. A time when, upon discharge I had the CAT team come and give me my meds twice a day: 8am and 8pm. They did that for a few weeks; I was too spacey to care for myself. I was living in a boarding house at that stage; grimy, expensive and dank. Another story for another time. Back to the dosette: it sort of feels a bit institutionalised to use it again, but I guess I don't mind using it for now.

Zyprexa (olanzapine) is not a popular drug; every person I know who's been on it has complained, mostly about weight gain, but here's a list of possible side-effects;

As with all neuroleptic drugs, olanzapine can cause tardive dyskinesia and rare, but life-threatening, neuroleptic malignant syndrome.

Other recognised side effects may include:

akathisia; inability to remain still (restlessness)[21]
dry mouth
dizziness
irritability
sedation
insomnia
constipation
urinary retention
orthostatic hypotension
weight gain
increased appetite
runny nose
impaired judgment, thinking, and motor skills
impaired spatial orientation
impaired responses to senses
seizures
trouble swallowing
dental problems and discoloration of teeth
missed periods
problems with keeping body temperature regulated
apathy, lack of emotion
Endocrine side effects have included hyperprolactinemia, hyperglycemia, and diabetes mellitus
Brain Shivers
Auditory Hallucinations.

I can't claim to have gone through many of these; my main ones are increased appetite, tiredness and dry mouth (I drink heaps of water and Pepsi Max, around 15 tall glasses a day). Oh and seizures; had my first of those in my sleep a couple of weeks ago. That made my doctor say to cut back to 1 1/2 tablets a day (7.5 mg dose; around 11mg a day) and to start taking magnesium capsules twice a day (apparently helps with muscle spasms).

I've had a rigid neck for quite a few years now; tends to 'turn' by itself to the right; it's a subtle turn, mostly bothers me when I try to fall asleep due to head lifting off the pillow. It started happening on the older anti-psychotics I used to take; Risperdal and Solian. The 1st anti-psychotic I was on was the worst: Stellazine. You had to take Cogentin along with it to stop muscle cramps. One night my head wanted to spin off its axis a-la "The Exorcist"; it was quite terrifying.

All this in the name of cessation of paranoia and hearing voices; no wonder mental health patients are a downtrodden lot. I doubt very much whether the majority of the population would accept putting up with such side-effects if they were told they had to.

Have you ever had rage so bad you've been homicidal?

2011-01-04T21:08:00.001+11:00

I have; even today briefly. I'm not hearing voices, I'm nowhere near manic. I'm as close to sane as I can be, today at least. I believe what I felt today was a sign of humanity, not a symptom of schizoaffective disorder.

There's a young woman at my work who can be a bully; she switches targets from time to time but I am a regular bullseye for her. Today was one such example; I arrived at 1pm, my usual time, sat down at an empty desk (we swap and share desks depending on what task we're doing) and went to use the phone. It had an odd beep-beep-beep tone, not the usual dial tone. I tried pressing a few of the function buttons on the phone but couldn't get a straight dial tone. I asked thhis girl (who is the most experienced and most tech-savvy person in the department) for help. She barked at me to try I.T and How Should She Know. I moved to another desk and went to ring I.T., she went on to ring her mobile from the previous desk and barked at me the The Phone Works, Dunno Why You Thought It Didn't.

I know the logical retort would be to stand up for myself and to say something like: That tone and Look is unnessary, so Stop It. Or to assert myself in some similar way. This girl, however, seems to thrive on confrontation, almost viewing it as sport. She is large in stature (would weigh over 130 kilos) and quite intimidating. So I tend to absorb her aggression and ignore her; the problem being a part of me is seething that I didn't stand up for myself. The net result is that, here I am several hours later at home allowing this Jabba The Hutt to occupy time and space in my thoughts. It's not good.

One time she really let me have it for no good reason, absolutely bellowing at me. This resulted in me re-living the incident so much that I fantasised about stabbing her in the neck so as to save the world from the bile she spews from her vocal chords. I had that stabbing fantasy again tonight; not a wild frenzied attack, just a swift and forceful movement of the blade into the back of her neck. I won't do it though; much as I'd like for her to either be mute or dead, I'd prefer not to while away my days in Her Majesty's Hotel (prison).

Management at work have tended to turn a blind eye to this woman's aggressive behaviour/bullying because she is a good worker and is the most knowledgeable staff member we have (including management). She has been in our department for 5 years, and has tried transferring to other departments but is yet to be successful (perhaps her reputation precedes her). My manager is well aware of her moodiness and foul disposition and the way she holds the rest of the department in her hands depending on what mood she carries with her each day. My manager describes a bad mood as "the bear loose from the cage" and more or less leaves us all to fend for ourselves. I get the impression my manager regards conflict resolution as a headache she doesn't want to have to fix. She's told me to "grow some balls" about the issue. Charming.

I have learned to stand up to bullies in other places eg: my Father; I've learned he is a paper tiger, all bluster and no substance. I've learned to cut him off if he's in a tirade and just be assertive; or to let him say his piece then just react non-plussed. Maybe that's what I have to do with this young woman at work.

It's better than getting worked up and having stabbing fantasies!

Enter 2011...happy new year!

2010-12-31T22:21:00.001+11:00

So why am I nutting this out at 10.21pm on New Years Eve and not at a gathering with friends? I got invited to a good friend's house, but turned it down. Just felt like being alone, watching my box set of My Name is Earl DVD's, ripping into the Pepsi Max and fags, surfing the net. It's just another night for me, New Year's Eve. I started feeling this way about it around 5 or 6 years ago, the same time I stopped panicking about having no social engagements lined up for Friday and Saturday nights. The same time I started feeling content with being on my own and not lonely. My friend Liz said to me it's a sign of maturity. I hope that's it, and not a sign of losing touch with vitality and feeling alive.

I was watching a favourite DVD the other day: "Dracula" (the one made in the early 90's with Gary Oldman, Winona Ryder and Keanu Reeves; the latter 2 doing awful wooden performances and horrible english accents, but otherwise enjoyable). There's a scene in it where Winona comments about how she felt "so alive" when in the company of her Prince (Oldman as Dracula). It brought me back to how I felt when first watching this film in the cinema aged around 23: I felt a strong chord strike at me during the film about the wonder of sensations which I have rarely felt since age 25 when I was first diagnosed and thus medicated. I guess I'm referring to the elation that I used to feel with my unmedicated moods swirling about unfettered and how intoxicating this could feel. Looking back on these feelings, I really understand how some people with mood disorders remain non-compliant with taking medication: when you're dosed up with a mood stabiliser like Lithium or Epilim, what was once a kaliedoscopic world can suddenly become very grey and drab.

When I say grey, it's not automatically like a depression (which I describe as feeling like you view life through shit-covered filters while trying to wade out of emotional quicksand). It's just that...there's no Spark, no mojo. I saw some truly amazing ocurrances when going through undulating moods in my early 20's....I wish I could remember them all. I just had more charisma and was able to enter into conversations with strangers more confidently and fluently. An example being: I was at a friend's 21st and was going to leave early as I had a headache and was getting a bit peeved by some of her obnoxious Uni friends (they'd done a very "in-joke" speech which none of us old friends were impressed by). I talked briefly to one of these friends who invited me to a drinkies lunch they had mined up for the next day to keep the party humming at a trendy pub. I made an excuse not to go, saying I had a headache: the girl eyeballed me "Forget the headache" she spat "we'll see you at the pub tomorrow". I glared at her and said "see you there". I did turn up at the pub the next day; nobody else showed, they were all hungover. I ended up chatting to a lovely afro-american guy for a couple of hours. We went out to dinner a week later, but thereafter didn't see each other again.

My point is: I had the chutzpah to dress up, show up, not be daunted and feel ok talking to a stranger in a bar alone. I wouldn't probably do that sort of thing a few years later when medicated. Being diagnosed and medicated sort of 'extracted' my congeniality out of me. Sure, I can express things ok in a written sense, but to verbalise it is something totally different.

I'm aware that this written/verbal thing is not the exclusive domain of being medicated, and there surely must be people who do take meds who are certainly adept at conversation and many other social skills. I however, am not. I used to be.

Anyway....I've strayed from my initial line of thought: feeling 'alive'. As I type this I can hear the distant thudding bass of a party at a neighbour's house, along with erratic shrieks and shouts of those well on the way to imbibing their way into a jolly new year. I remember feeling pretty alive doing this sort of thing too in the past. These days my 'alive' moments tend to be fleeting, like the rush I get when I sit down and relax with a glass of water and a smoke having just walked for an hour. The blood is rushing around my body, my feet tingle and I feel really awake. Or the alive I get when I mix Clary Sage essential oil with massage oil and rub it into my neck and shoulders. Or if I'm watching a close and exciting football match which goes right to the wire.

It doesn't match the kaliedoscope world of unmedicated mood fluctuations, not by a longshot. I hope one day I can become less medicated, but until then I have to be content with the perceptions I have and also those I create for myself and for others.

Have a happy 2011. I certainly hope to.

Description of the onset of psychosis

2010-11-28T10:35:00.000+11:00

Perhaps I'm wrong, but I get a feeling that many in the community fear being around people with schizophrenia or schizoaffective disorder due to a perception that such people can 'turn' psychotic in an instant and are inherently violent when in a psychosis. My experience of psychosis has been very different to this: I only develop full-blown psychosis after having a build-up of mania, which takes anything from several weeks to several days to gestate. It's pretty easy to spot me (or most people, if you know them) being manic: excessively chatty, irritable, spending money I can't afford, excess energy, delusions of brilliance - pretty typical symptoms. It's only after I've been manic (fully-blown) for a few days that the paranoia creeps in.
I begin by reading significance into things that have no significance; a classic example being to hold the notion that the songs on the radio are 'telling' me something, or that the television is conveying a special message for me, usually sinister. I then start being convinced of conspiracy theories, especially that people close to me have evil intentions. Finally I get external auditory hallucinations (voices) which are terrifying, nasty and mocking. By the final stages I am well onto needing to be in hospital asap.

I cope with becoming unwell pretty effectively these days; because I live alone I don't infringe on other peoples wellbeing. I am aware that "it's happening" even though my grip on sanity is slipping. When I start to feel like my mania is escalating out of control I ring my regional Psych triage; they have me on their files having rung them in the past. They instruct me to make an emergency appointment with my Psychiatrist, which I do at the earliest opportunity. If there is a wait to see my Psych I keep in frequent touch with the Psych triage number (which I'm sure drives them batty). If need be they fax my Psych about how I'm presenting over the phone, this can speed up seeing my Psych and if needed, getting a bed in hospital (private - as a voluntary patient).

If I didn't have private heath insurance I would have to solely rely on the Psych Triage service and seeing my Doctor until (a) I got better along with adjusted meds my doctor would prescribe me or (b) my condition worsened and I totally lost the plot and needed to go to Public Psych hospital as an involuntary patient, although not all people who go in the public system are involuntary. One main difference that strikes me between public and private psych hospitals is that in the public system you get more violence; both verbal and physical. In the private one you have to sign a contract upon admission saying you won't physically or verbally assault anyone during your stay.

I guess what I'm trying to say is that for me psychosis is a gradual culmination of unwellness; I'm not nor would I ever be likely to just "snap" into being psychotic. There is a lead up to getting unwell, as described above. I wish people in the community would bother to learn a bit more about it, not just to assume things about psychosis from what they read/hear in the media (eg: man shot by police after wielding samuri swords and lunging at them; he was known to have schizophrenia).

The other thing I wish people understood is how terrifying it is to be in a psychosis; it's like a sinister nightmare, with distortions of reality lasting for days or even weeks until the antipsychotic medication has a chance to work. Then you tend to get really tired (heavy dose of meds) and put on weight (most antipsychotics really increase your appetite). Several weeks afterwards, there's post-psychotic depression, a really black place to go. Sucks, hey?

I wish someone with political clout had the experience of psychosis (not that I'd really want to wish it upon somebody), so that the politicians could do more than pay lip service to improving mental health care. So many people with serious psych illnesses are disenfranchised, or they slip through the cracks of the public system, never receiving adequate care and assistance.

I'm fortunate; when I got really sick in 2003 I did get appropriate care for a change; the rebuilding has be slow but steady. However I know I am in a minority. Housing is a major issue; I couldn't have anywhere near my current peace of mind were I still in transitional housing. Other people aren't so lucky.

So.....psychosis.....yes I've strayed from the topic. If you're in the company of someone with schizoaffective disorder it's highly unlikely they would become verbally or physically agressive unless they were unwell, and that would, in my opinion be pretty obvious. I guess the point I'm making is that people don't just 'snap'; I never have. It's a build up of behaviours as described. I guess the perception that all people who have been psychotic/have the potential to be psychotic are dangerous is a sad reality. A perception based on misrepresentation and ignorance.

Why would I love being schizoaffective?

2010-11-27T20:57:00.000+11:00

Why indeed. Life has certainly taken a different projectory to the one it was heading in, when I was a teenager, when I had my first symptoms of being unwell. I don't know the exact age my magic genie popped out it's weird and wonderful psych symptoms (was flat aged 10 soon after my parents divorce; was flat again aged 14; was majorly flat aged 18; had a minor psychosis aged 20; mood swings thereafter culminating in 1st major psychotic episode aged 25). One thing I know is that when I eventually thought I had my career path sorted (aged 22; market research) and despite my undiagnosed symptoms occuring I got my business degree (25 again). I was all lined up to start my graduate traineeship with a big market research company in the city when I had my 1st psychotic episode. It lasted months. I tried to start at the company (having lied and said I had glandular faver); I lasted a few months then got the sack.

Had it not been the case that I had become sick I might have had a successful career in market research. Or not. Life can have funny turns for people who don't become unwell, psychiatric or any other illness. There was never a guarantee that I would be a corporate success. But there would have been a reasonable chance.

So where did I go from there, the breakdown and sacking, aged 25? Too long and personal a story to do justice to in a blog. To summarise;

- 1996-1999 Worked in part time blue collar jobs and felt sad, angry and lost;
- Felt bored and lonely frequently along with a disposition towards depression;
- 1999-2000 Got lost in drinking daily to escape my less-than-happy existence;
- 2000-2002 Did the rehab merry-go-round circuit combined with emergency/relief accomodation due to being unemployed and unemployable;
- Had 2nd major psychosis 2002-3 (much worse than before); involuntary patient then homeless; in boarding houses;
- 2003-2007 Got back on my feet via effective case management; secured a community housing bedsit; started part time work again; stayed off alcohol;
- Moved to stable accomodation; retained part time employment; started being able to pay bils properly and to save;
- 2009 Had 3rd psychosis; private hospital, new psychiatrist; was able to retain work; had some medication trial and error; maintained sobriety;
- 2010 Work going well; fell off the water wagon but didn't go off the rails; stabilising on medication; solidifying friendships.

I give this summary to emphasise how different a turn my life took had I not become unwell. I've seen and done things a lot of people only wonder about: a lot of them not good things. I've learned to live on a budget and to appreciate money. As I enter my 40's I'm learning that physical health is just as valuable as mental health and that it can't be taken for granted. Ok ok....so I'm sounding sanctimonious and all that. It's just that....how can I make the title of my blog ring true???

Maybe the trick is to know that often, it's said tongue in cheek. ;)

Outing myself on Facebook

2010-11-27T20:35:00.000+11:00

I resisted going onto Facebook for a number of reasons, the main one being having a fear of no friends. As far as I could see it seemed to be a popularity contest and unless you had a minimum of 1000 friends there was something dysfunctional about you. I know a handful of people who have friends in the thousands; it wasn't until I actually got on board and added a handful of real-life friends that I saw their lists: the most friends one of them had was just over a hundred. Another had only a dozen. This eased my fears. I still am in the working stages of fashioning my profile. I've got a dodgy picture taken by me of me; I'm not out to impress. Maybe I should be; a friend met her girlfriend via Facebook. Other gay friends of mine swear by it; it's free, unlike dating sites like The Pink Sofa. It just gets tricky because you use your real name and picture, and if you bullshit, your real life friends will post on your wall "what the fuck???".

I don't bullshit here; this webpage is warts and all. I don't intend to bullshit on Facebook either; people will either like me or not, as I would them. I have left out some facts about myself on the Pink Sofa (which I'm not going to resubscribe to) such as being schizoaffective and having issues with alcohol. I don't feel bad about talking about my psych illness but I have lingering thoughts about alcoholism being a moral issue, something AA is adamant it isn't. I went to AA today and found myself feeling alienated in the meeting, not identifying with anyone's shares. Come to think of it....a lot of people probably have trouble not linking problem drinking with immorality. Methinks I need to change the banner on this blog. Hang on....

Descartes Dream Argument

2010-11-24T17:04:00.000+11:00

Ok, so I want to look a bit less pooncey (ie: like a poser) and explain my understanding of Rene Descartes Dream Argument. I studied this over 20 years ago at university, so I'm pretty rusty. It's based around his essays on "Cogito Ergo Sum" which means "I think therefore I am". In essence, this philospher from centuries back (I think it was the 19th century but could well be wrong there) was pondering how we as humans knew for a fact that we exist. It's more than doing a pinch test: how do we know that the sights and sounds we see and hear are really there, and moreso, how do we know that we (or I) really exist?

He asserted that via cognitive processing - our brains ticking over - we can make the declaration that we exist. We know that we are here - that this world really exists and isn't a mirage - based on the knowledge that we are thinking. A thought, or several thoughts, confirm our existence.

A curly variation on this is how we are existing when our minds are not as cogniscent; when we are asleep. How do we affirm our existence on this same principle of "I think therefore I am" when we are not in conscious control of our thoughts? Descartes, if I remember correctly, continued to argue his point by ascertaining that our minds are active in dream state, and although it's a different style of thinking, it's still thinking, so when we are asleep we still exist.

I've got my own variation to Cogito Ergo Sum: how do we know we exist when we are psychotic? Anyone with schizophrenia, schizoaffective or bipolar disorder (along with a myriad of other psych illnesses which can invoke psychosis) may well wonder that when their mind is tormenting, tricking them into believing things that aren't real, it can seem very surreal, and yet totally real at the same time. Like being in a nightmare, that's how I've felt. One way I describe psychosis is Reading Significance into things that have no significance; it's an altered state of mind.

I'm not sure whether psychosis fits into Descartes philosophy at all; maybe I'm just not smart enough to argue about it eloquently. I dropped out of that Uni course incidentally. Too much. Didn't like writing an essay on the feminist marxist view of Pride and Prejudice; preferred to write about the story itself. Ah well, guess I'm just not an academic.

Ciao xo

Internet dating sites and virtual friends

2010-11-24T10:32:00.001+11:00

Over the past month I have made a few acquaintances via an internet site called the Pink Sofa, a friendship/dating site for gay women. At the time of corresponding with them, I would have called them ‘my new friend’, however have found that they have tended to have a short use-by date, often lasting less than a week. The messaging to and fro can be an intense exchange, deceptively giving an illusion of intimacy. This ‘bond’ has proven to me on more than on occasion to be more of a gossamer thread, breaking easily and disintegrating into nothing, simply by the other party failing to reply to my last message to them. It’s karma in a way; two months ago I ceased messaging a woman who was ingratiating herself upon me in a manner I didn’t feel comfortable about, so I stopped messaging her, prompting a flurry of worried messages from her until I was upfront and said I found her a bit too forward and smothering. She desisted from contacting me again. That’s what has now happened to me 3 times since, with the shoe being on the other foot (although I haven’t sent a flurry of worried emails upon not hearing from people) ; karma.

I guess I didn’t smother these women in the way my suitor did to me, but what I’m beginning to see is that I can present as a little needy and lonely which, I imagine, would be offputting. My tendency to write or text back Straight Away is a bit of a sign. I don’t feel totally deflated; I know the perils of internet dating/friendship making, particularly for a sober alcoholic. There was a part of me that was saying (regarding possibly meeting with my most recent internet buddy) that continuous sobriety is overrated; so what if I were to have a social drink here and there; as long as I’m not drinking at home alone I’ll be fine. I know this is dangerous territory for me; I have been there before. True, I might drink sensibly for a number of weeks, and only when out socially. But then I might have a tough day at work, and the notion of Drink as a Reward pops into my head: soon enough I’ll be drinking regularly at home,not drastic at first, but within a month or two it starts to become problematic.

Maybe it’s not such a bad thing my latest Pink Sofa buddy has not replied for 2 days now, a yawning chasm compared to last weekend of a flurry of exchanges from both of us. She’s interesting, funny and likeable, and it sounds like she’s very sociable. She lives about 100kms from me on the west coast of Victoria. She drinks socially, regularly chatting with friends in the pub. She loves tattoos, piercings and motorbikes. These few things divide us on the surface; I am trying not to drink (am nearly 2 months sober), I am not a big fan of tattoos and piercings, and I detest motor racing. For all that we managed to chat fine. For a number of days, at least. It put a spring in my step; getting texts at work, looking forward to a chatty email at night. I felt like Someone was there in the background. It helped me feel less alone.

I never got round to telling her I have schizoaffective disorder; I have learned to keep this private until I get to know the other person and they me. I don’t mention it in my profile on the website either. I would always tell them before meeting them, in case they regard it as too problematic to pursue anything. I had one woman reject me even as a friend after I told her about it; that hurt. She said that her ex had had a personality disorder which had been traumatic, and I didn’t doubt her, but it still hurt to be flicked off as a potential friend. I guess a bit of a wake up call to me about the ongoing stigma which exists surrounding mental illness.

I put my name down to be involved in a project called ‘Ambassadors of Hope’ which involves people who are managing their mental illness well to speak to public groups about their experiences with living with a mental illness. Groups like secondary schools, Rotary Groups, Police recruits; trying to spread a positive message about recovering from mental illness. I hope this program can make a difference to some in the community; perceptions etc.

Anyway, it’s back to square one socially. I have trouble enough with 3-D relationships. I tend to totally balls-up any internet friends I make. Oh well.

Owwwooohh!!! ITS A FULL MOON

2010-11-20T20:57:00.000+11:00

I love full moons, there's always a ceratin energy in the air. I know some people who hate them: cops, ambulance officers, hospital triage nurses and doctors. You see, there is always a spike in weird and wonderful behaviours on the night of a full moon. I've heard first hand from an ambo: always more accidents and call-outs. I used to share a house with a triage nurse who worked at the Alfred; they always braced themselves for full moon nights; more stabbings, car accidents, alcohol and drug fuelled fights: general chaos.

I know I need to be mindful of my schizoaffective element with the full moon; my instinct is to stay up late, have lots of caffeine and type to my heart's content. It doesn't help if the weather is hot and sleeping is difficult, then my nocturnal urge becomes almost sensible (why toss and turn when it's 25 celsius at 2am??).

I guess, considering the carnage and mayhem that some people raise when the lunar tide is high....a little Pepsi Max and some furtive ferreting away on a keyboard could be regarded as a minor maladjustment.

Why I believe in God and Jesus Christ

2010-11-03T19:49:00.000+11:00

Don't run!!! I'm not gonna shake the holy roller tambourine at you, I promise. Just a brief thought as to why I have a christian God belief. I'm curious if anyone else can relate;
If I'm deep in psychosis and the hallucinations get bad (mostly voices, sometimes the odd visual) the only thing I can think of to feel a modicum of comfort is to ask God for protection. It always ends up being the God I was taught to believe in as a child at the Uniting Church (a blending of Methodist and Presbyterian which happened in Australia back in 1977). When I'm shaken to the core, that's the God I turn to.

Enter the Xmas silly season...

2010-10-31T10:47:00.000+11:00

My drug and alcohol counsellor noted the other day that the Xmas 'silly season' has started on the roads and in the shops; congestion, road/trolley rage, advertising, work getting busier etc.....all the stuff which can put most people's nerves on edge and see us hurtle towards Dec 25th like a comet only to ease back Boxing Day and beyond (unless one chooses to launch into the post-Xmas sales). It's subtle right now but grows louder in volume as December approaches. I started to feel it when on the phone to my mother yesterday about who's coming to her and my stepfather's house on Xmas day. The notion of dealing with my stepbrother and his two girls who can be quite bratty is enough to make me uneasy. At least my stepbrother's wife won't be there; she has the charming habit of always telling me I've put on weight (which is the pot calling the kettle black).
I usually feel like a bit of a spare wheel at Xmas; childless and without a partner ending up at my elderly parents amid step siblings and their kids. I try to get over myself and help my Mum out the best I can in preparing and serving food so that she won't stress. My blood sister sometimes joins us with her family; sometimes they spend it with her husbands clan or they just take off to their holiday house and escape the relatives with their own 2 kids. I wish I could see my niece and nephew on Xmas day, but that's not always possible. Mum's usually stressed out from being ignored by my stepbrother and sister and their kids as they always do. My stepsister and her kids are in the UK at the moment due to her work so will miss Xmas with us this year, for which I am grateful.

Blended families seep out all sorts of behaviours come Xmas day. No wonder I don't look forward to it.

On another note I have to go back to the sleep study place in just over a week to stay overnight again; this time I will have a mask and they will ascertain whether I still get restless legs while asleep and if so whether to put me on medication for that as well as hooking me up with a mask for the sleep apnoea.

I'm just over 4 weeks sober; haven't had any real cravings. Thankfully my family on Mum and Jeff's side are not big imbibers, so things should be ok on that front Xmas day. My Dad on the other hand is a guzzler; he usually drops in for about 15minutes Xmas night to exchange gifts. I hope my stepmother doesn't come as well; now there is bitterness personified, she is a viper.

I know I might seem less than charming about my step families, but there is some substance to it, which I won't go into here. It's just that the underlying tensions simmer to the surface Xmas time and I don't like that. I know a lot of people feel the same or worse than I do about Xmas. Maybe I'd feel a bit different if I had a partner and family of my own to share it with. Yes, that's quite possible.

Sleep apnoea and schizoaffective disorder...and sobriety again

2010-10-17T14:55:00.000+11:00

Last month when I saw my psych he asked me about my tiredness levels; I told him if I don't get at least 10- 11 hours sleep I am pretty cactus the next day. He said that even though my meds can contribute to tiredness (750mg Lithium, 1000mg Epilim, 15mg Zyprexa, 30mg Cymbalta) that me sleeping the length I do is odd. He said I should be ok on around 8-9 hours sleep. So he referred me to see a sleep specialist, who asked me a barrage of questions, ranging from the obvious (do I snore) to the obscure (did I wear braces as a child and have I had any wisdom teeth removed). I answered yes to all these questions. He looked down my throat and up my nostrils and said they were inflamed. I also told him that I have trouble getting to sleep (avg around 2 hours) and sometimes I forget to breathe, gasping for air. I said to the best of my knowledge I don't wake up throughout the night.

He said I'm a definite candidate for sleep apnoea, and that I may have an unrestful sleep due to breathing difficulty, which I might not be aware of due to not waking up totally. I'm going back to the sleep clinic Tuesday week to sleep there overnight and have them wire me up with monitors while they observe me sleeping. I go back a couple of days later to get the results. The cost is covered by my health insurance but I have to pay the excess of $250; otherwise it'd cost a couple of grand.

If I am found to have sleep apnoea the doc explained I can be fitted with a breathing mask for in bed at night, which although somewhat offputting and aesthetically none too pleasing comes as a bit of a relief to me. He said the mask would help me get some restorative sleep and hence allow me to feel rested after only 8 hours. The add-on effects are increased energy and feeling more inclined to exercise, hence lose weight, feel a bit more positive etc etc. Plus my concentration would be much improved; maybe I could read some of the more challenging books I have, not just the ones written for teenagers I have tended to read due to being easier to digest.

Finally he said that it is quite common for people with schizoaffective disorder to have sleep apnoea; he didn't say why and I didn't think to ask. Maybe something to quiz him on when I go to the results session on Thursday week.

Today is Sunday (despite what it says on the header of this post; that tends to be geared towards what I think is USA time); I slept in till 10am and have spent most of today reading and resting. I lost a bit of sleep late last week, which combined with work being fairly frantic meant I felt pretty wrung out Friday night. So it's been a rest weekend mostly. The household chores can wait. I need a bit of down time.

I'm 15 days sober today. Yay me! I'm doing 1 or 2 AA meetings a week combined with New Life program (an Australian abstinence program which segregates men and women in recovery from addiction - once a week meetings) and am seeing a drug and alcohol counsellor whom I've worked with in 2 rehabs I've been at in years gone by. My counsellor Annie is a hippie with long grey hair and a tattoo and she swears like a trooper. I'm looking forward to working with her again; she's smart and gets to the guts of things without mucking around. She knows about addiction and mental illness. I'm lucky to have found her again. Good counsellors are like gold; can be pretty rare.

Even though I feel a bit weary I am a lot more alert than when I was getting drunk every day, like last September just gone. It was like I was in a daze; there was no more lift or warm glow from a few drinks; just tired, heavy, can't concentrate, want to be left alone so I can drink in peace, stare blankly at the computer screen at work then 5 seconds later realise I am staring; slipping into zombie land. Ugh.

Speaking of zombies (new topic!)I saw a good zombie-like DVD the other day: 28 Days Later. It was a UK flick which had a different tone than 99% of the horror flicks I've seen (all USA-made). It was refreshing; I recommend it (that's if you like zombie flicks).
The other thing I've been immersed in is the Alien Quadrilogy; I got the 4-disc box set and it was brilliant. I love Sigourney Weaver, she is such a gutsy character as Ripley. The only one which I found disappointing was the last one Alien Resurrection, with the total miscasting of Winona Ryder as a robot. True, Ryder tends to be semi-robotic with her limited acting range, but she just didn't fit the bill in this movie, I didn't think.

I've been drinking lots of Pepsi Max and smoking around 40 cigarettes a day; I know this has to be curbed, it's not healthy. My cigarette consumption went up when I drank, so it's been hard to change that habit, and I seem to have replaced the scotch and maxes to just maxes. I will change my behaviour, I just need to temper it a bit. It's possible, just that I'm enjoying indulging in it for now. Same as ignoring the housework and grocery shopping which needs to be done. I'll get there, just not right now.

On a more functional note: I haven't taken a sick day off work since August. That's really good by my standards. I usually take around 12 days off sick per year, which is pretty shoddy for a part timer. Granted, I never "do a Ferris Bueller", and the majority of my days off are mental health days, usually tiredness or feeling a bit all over the place, or really flat - you get the idea - overall it doesn't tend to look good to take as much time off as I do.

Finally, I guess I'm here again due to feeling a bit lonely, despite being in phone touch with about 5 or 6 family and friends this weekend. Also I went to AA yesterday and went out for coffee afterwards. So there has been some socialising, even for an isolator like me. I just want to have company around the house, and yet I know that unless the person was family or a partner, I would resent them being in my space. I've had a boarder here before and it didn't work out; it was mostly me being cantankerous and selfish that became problematic; he was pretty inoffensive really. It was my shit, not his. Hence I won't get someone in the spare room again in a hurry. But sometimes living alone aches a bit. And I have to accept that my friends who live with their families lead busier lives than me and aren't often around to have an hour-long phone chat with me, especially when I am feeling needy and lonely and bored.
Hence I have had to learn to distract myself; this is one such outlet, along with surfing the net generally. Getting lost in a DVD is another way; or a gripping book (eg: an easy read like The Da Vinci Code....yes yes I know it's commercial and all the rest of it but it's at a level I can concentrate); listening to the radio, particularly chat shows is helpful for not feeling so alone.

Sometimes I really like my solitude, don't get me wrong, it happens often in fact. I'd much prefer to get the occasional 'lonelies' than to live in resentment with having someone in the house who got on my nerves. I think a lot of that goes back to when I was a teenager and I didn't get along with my stepdad; god did I hate him with venom. There's something amiss in my ability to share a place with people; not totally broken but definitely seriously flawed.

Phew...that'll do for now. God bless Saint Mary MacKillop (no, I'm not Catholic, just thought I'd throw that in!). :)

Finally a sunny Spring day in Melbourne

2010-10-02T13:29:00.000+10:00

I am at home minding my sisters two shi tzus; they spend most of the time sleeping as they are 14 years old. It's been good having the dogs and has made me realise I am capable of looking after a pet. Today is my first day sober (again); I've lost count of how many times I've said that. I knew I had to stop; the tiredness combined with a hazy feeling hasn't been good. I didn't even enjoy the drinking after a while. I was getting through close to two bottles of whisky per week, which is too much. I'm going back to AA and plan on doing around 4 meetings a week. I hope it works this time.

End of my holidays with old 'friends' Johnny and Jack

2010-09-20T10:50:00.000+10:00

That's Johnny Walker and Jack Daniels; yup I spent a sizeable portion of my 2 weeks annual leave imbibing whisky and coke. I'd had nibbles leading up to the vacation, buying four pack cans of Jack and Coke on Friday nights for several weeks. I had still been attending one AA meeting a week, although that fell away in the last month or so. The net result is I didn't get housework chores done, I smoked like a demon and ate pretty appaulingly. I did go to an AA meeting last Saturday, and hope to continue doing so. I guess I'm just pushing myself to an edge of falling off so that I feel more compelled to stay sober more long term. I'm only drinking a litre of whisky a week at the moment, which is pretty tame compared to many AA people. I must stop doing that: comparing myself to others in AA, it's been my downfall so often in the past; ie. I drank less than most people therefore I'm not as bad as them.
I have to be at work in 2 hours; I really wish I didn't have to go. If it wasn't for the money I'd quit in a flash.

The other thing I did on holidays was to spend a week on a respite holiday with other people with mental illnesses. We went to all sorts of interesting places and I made some new friends. A group of them book in together to the same holiday place and invited me to join them next Feburary, so I will. I exchanged phone numbers with one lady and we said we'd meet for coffee one day, which would be good. Basically the holiday is run by the mental illness fellowship who subsidise the cost of our outings and cook all our meals; all for $75 a week. Drugs and alcohol are not allowed, so I stayed sober a week, which was slightly tough but I managed. I learned that everyone has their own set of problems, some of them similar to others. We all tended to get tired from meds, and it was common to have a 'nanna nap' in the afternoons before dinner. It was also common to sleep till around mid-morning for some, or to have problems sleeping throughout the night. I enjoyed my week away, and look forward to going again in Feb.

Maybe by that time I will have stopped drinking; I certainly hope so.

Holidays and sobriety has descended

2010-09-06T12:54:00.000+10:00

Well sort of....I got drunk Friday night and Saturday afternoon, and I can't say I particularly enjoyed it, especially the Saturday. I was watching the football finals and thought I'd have a double celebration by having a few shandies (scotch and cokes). After the first hour on Friday it was all downhill, feeling tired and hazy. The Saturday all I felt was tired and foggy...there was no 'warm glow' or 'buzz'. I couldn't wait to get a decent sleep and lots of glasses of water in to get rid of the lethargy and foggyness in my head. I know the alcohol would have mixed with my meds, it always does and tends to nullify the enjoyabilty of any drinking session I might have. It turns me into a cheap drunk; after about 6 drinks I'm happy to lie down and fall asleep. This tends to set me apart from most people who attend AA, for whom 6 drinks would be considered a warm-up toast. Most people I come across in AA used to drink around a bottle of spirits or a 4 litre cask of wine or 2 or 3 bottles of champagne in one sitting. My six drinks stands out like dog's balls.
It's one of the reasons I have not been quick to head back to the 12 step fellowship for the past few months; the most I've attended has been one meeting a week, just to keep in touch. That and I'm a bit 'over' many of the personalities who attend meetings in my local area.

One thing I felt yesterday and today is how nice it feels to be alert and not hazy; I tend to feel tiredness at the best of times due to meds so I don't need any further dulling through booze.

The drycleaning man is doing my carpets as I type this, then I'm meeting my Dad for coffee for a belated Fathers Day. The rest of the week will go all too quickly, then I go away for respite holidays for a week and I am really looking forward to that.
Enough prattle, ciao for now xo

A heartwarming youtube flick....The bear

2010-09-04T10:56:00.000+10:00

I got sent the following email link by a friend which I want to share;

http://www.flixxy.com/bear-animal-nature-film.htm

it's truly heartwarming!!!

BTW I am now on two weeks holiday and have a week's worth of domestic things to do (carpet drycleaning, gardening, washing, floors, sorting through papers and photos etc)
then I am off for a week to a respite holiday run by the mental illness fellowship. It's in a large suburban house where for $75 a week they cook and clean all meals, you get a room to yourself, each day we go out on excusions which are paid for, like trips to the aquarium, the open range zoo, art galleries, op-shopping, tulip farms...a whole range of stuff. To qualify you need to have a mental illness and be a holder of a disbility support pension card. The downside is that among the eight consumers there is usually at least one unwell or disruptive person. Last time I went there was a girl who couldn't stop eating....she ate so much one day that she vomited all over the place. I know people can't always help behaviours like this, but it can be trying. Oh well, I'm lucky to get any sort of a holiday I guess, let alone one so affordable.

Spring has sprung and today we are having torrential rain; I know the water's good for our drought-stricken state but 'twould be nice to see some sunshine.

On a not-so-good note: I have been drinking again. The past two weekends I have drunk whisky; the first I bought pre-mix cans of cola and whisky, the second a bought a bottle of whisky, and yesterday I bought another bottle of whisky. I don't know why I'm doing it, I really don't. I know I can't afford to drink. It's perplexing and frustrating. I wish I knew how to stop permanently.

The elusive motivation....

2010-08-25T10:46:00.000+10:00

It's 10.45am; I'm not working today, I have 2 appointments later today, one with my employment consultant, the other with my shrink. I have a couple of hours to kill before I leave for these and I should walk. I haven't walked in over a week; the weather has been vile (winter's end has come with a punch) and today is no exception. It's windy and showery and a top temperature of 13 degrees celcius. I know I could put on a raincoat and just bluster through the weather, but I can't muster up the motivation to get out there and do it.

The same applies with diet; I know I should eat more fruit and veg, and to be fair I have increased the fruit, but not as much as I should. I crave fatty carbs and have been told that Zyprexa can cause this (by my doctor). Unsurprisingly I give in to my cravings frequently, and sort of feel like losing weight is a bit of a lost cause.

Then there's the drinking: I had sort of accepted that total abstinence was beyond me, content to aim for abstinence but not get too perturbed if I had the occasional drink/drunk (ie: no more than once a month). I got drunk last Friday night; I had four cans of Jack Daniels and coke, which I really enjoyed, but had a lingering flatness for the next couple of days. I also felt really tired. The odd thing was I didn't feel racked with guilt, in the way that most AA people do if they pick up a drink. I just accepted that my drink was the nature of the beast and that if I can minimise it to once a month and make sure I enjoy it, then what's the harm? I wouldn't share this thought with AA people, as I could face some wholehearted condemnation. I just won't share too often if asked to at an AA meeting, as I'm not sure I fit within tradition 3 of AA: "The only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking". I don't have that desire, I love drinking. I just hate what I become when I give into it and let it damage my life. So I abstain mostly, until I just want to have a treat. So far it's been ok; no real cravings once I stop (ie:" the next day and beyond) but it's really just a thought that builds up and I finally give into it at an appropriate time (ie: on a Friday night when I have 2 days to recover for work) and in appropriate quantities (a four pack of Jack doesn't do too much damage - I would never buy a whole bottle of spirits - that would be too tempting).
Also I know my shrink wants me to stay abstinent due to the effect drinking would have on my already damaged liver (due to medication).

Motivation.....exercise, diet and drinking. I struggle with all 3 things daily (maybe not the drinking as much as the other two). I wish I could get some more help with managing these better.

Whether to work in mental health or not.....

2010-08-22T18:41:00.000+10:00

Over the past few months I've been tossing up a possible career change; from records managment to working in mental health in a peer capacity. In Australia there are numerous different types of paid and unpaid positions for people with a mental illness to work helping others who also have mental illnesses. Some of these are called consumer consultants, others peer support, or mentors. The main thing to qualify for these jobs is to have lived with a mental illness and to being relatively stable. Until last night I was seriously considering applying for such a (part time) position. Then I talked to some people who are working in this field, and re-thunk my ambitions.
I went to a party held by a friend of mine who works in mental health, as it happens many of her friends do as well. I chatted to 3 people about my ideas and found out that it can be a pretty full-on experience. One lady told me of someone she knew who was sent in to visit a client who was very psychotic and whom ended up in hospital (with the worker's help). Now this worker was an untrained consumer who should not have been expected to handle such a situation alone, but due to mismanagment ended up doing so.
Another lady at this gathering told me of some of the situations she had been in, namely one involving domestic violence. Again, I felt my hopes for such work fading. I told my friend who was holding the party about another idea I had of creating a new website for people with mental inllness, mainly offering practical advice on getting better. I acknowledged that many of my ideas were things I know I should do myself in theory but fail to always do in practice. "Motivation" she nodded sagely. That was enough for my website bubble to burst; who am I to tell anyone else how to 'get well' and 'live a good quality life' when my own history and present scenario has and is chequered??? So that idea was snuffed out.

It was when I was talking to a third lady that another idea popped into my head. She asked me what qualifications I had; I said a bachelor degree in business majoring in marketing, and that market research had been my favourite area. I got a job with a market reasearch company when I graduated, only to develop full-blown psychosis and end up getting the sack. But I described the market research process to this lady, like I had conducted at university: examining the brief, setting objectives, writing a survey, analysing the results and writing a report. The lady said to me that I seemed passionate about market research and that I should follow my passion. I took note.

I can't honestly say I'm passionate about working with people with mental illness; I must admit to being fairly intolerant of people at times. It's a character flaw I have; being judgemental and aloof. I'm also naturally shy, so stepping outside my comfort zone to chat on easy terms with people and to offer support perhaps is not playing to my strengths.

Conversely, I love analysing things, making sense of data and writing. If I could find a way of working part time doing market research I would be as happy as a pig in mud.

It feels good to have something to aim for. It beats feeling like I am in a rut at least.

When to turn down a party invite

2010-08-16T10:19:00.000+10:00

My friend Sarah is having her 50th birthday party this Saturday, to which I am invited. I hadn't thought much about it till recently as the date looms nearer. I met Sarah through AA, she is 8 years sober; she has been able to put the drink down more successfully than me. However this will be no dry party; Sarah is a vivacious woman with friends from all walks of life. It is being held at a hotel in a private room, located in the inner city. The dress code will be cocktail or dressy at least. Sarah has said there will be non-alcoholic drinks and 'bubbly' served for free. I am really concerned, and don't think I can go.

For starters I don't have the wardrobe to match, and can't really afford to buy an outfit. I am worried about driving there and being able to find a park near the hotel in Prahran, a busy suburb; and then walking alone in the dark to the hotel. Mostly though I am worried about the drinking; there will be some AA people there, but unlike me they will mostly be a lot more sober than I am. I am barely a month since my last drink, and still have thoughts here and there of drinking.

Even if I get through the night without having any alcohol (which is quite likely), I would be inclined to get some to have when I got home, or maybe the next day. On top of this, the night doesn't start till 8pm, and these days I am in bed by 9pm, usually asleep by 10. I know this is a special occasion and I should put myself out for my friend, but I am filled with dread over this party.

One way out I was thinking of doing was to feign having a cold, as my worries might seem ridiculous, and the cold would seem more legitimate. I know this is lying, but I don't see another way out.

Horror movies and psychosis

2010-08-15T10:04:00.000+10:00

Lately I've been teasing my mind by watching DVD's which have mostly been horror movies; I have found a bargain bin at a local store which has them at $6.95 (not all horror, but I have picked them out). I've noticed that some movies from the 70's which garnered an "R" rating are fairly tame by today's more violent and gore-prone films, and would probably only get an "MA" rating today. Films like the Omen trilogy, The invasion of the body snatchers, Carrie and so on. In contrast I've watched a few post 2000 horror ones, like the remake of The amytiville horror, and boy are they scary! I can only watch them during daylight, and even then sometimes with the mute button on. Half the buildup happens through the use of sound, that's what I've found.

I've questioned myself about the wisdom of watching spooky films when prone to having paranoia at times; it's like I'm adding to my memory bank of frightening things which could come back to haunt me when psychotic. It's really only happened in a full-on way once, back in 2003 when I had to go to hospital. I was having florid dreams of Hannibal Lecter at the time; total nightmaes where I would sit bolt upright in bed and be sweating. I had watched the movie Red Dragon and the Hannibal character was torturing me in my dreams. I ended up as an involuntary patient for 6 weeks in hospital, having attacked my mother twice and the police arriving. I don't remember attacking my mum, my mind has blocked it out.

So the Hannibal series is one I choose not to revisit, no matter how well I feel. In contrast the spooky movies I watch these days tend to be a bit hammy and formulaic; after a while you tend to anticipate storylines.

The other thing I'm finding I'm loving are sci-fi movies; you know the typical thing where somehow from outer space a being comes to earth then gets inside a human and acts as a parasite, becoming destructive and seeking to colonise the earth. One of the best ones like this I've found was The Faculty, with an honourable mention to the 80's classic The Hidden. I'm kind of hoping the Alien quadrilogy will come up cheaply at the DVD store; I love the whole Ripley character, it's great for women.

So today, with rain softly falling outside in a typical winter's afternoon, I will curl up on the couch with the gas heater on and a horror movie going and have an enjoyable spooking. Strange maybe, but definitely fun.

Tiredness and paranoia

2010-08-14T10:00:00.000+10:00

I woke early yesterday; earlier than normal. I got up at 7am, had breakfast and listened to the radio. At around 9am I started to feel fatigued, so I went back to bed and slept for an hour. I did my usual morning routine of watching a morning TV chat show and getting ready for work. I left for work at 12.45, getting there as usual at 1pm.

The shift was a litle more frantic than usual; we'd had a power blackout the previous day which meant no computers so we had done other tasks. However that meant yesterday (ironically Friday 13th) we had the work building up like a snowball. I was looking after faxes and emails of which there were hundreds. Normally I batch them up by halfway through the shift then work on registering them into the system, but come 4.30pm I was still sorting and batching, there were so many. It was around this time that my tiredness was at its peak, and a bizarre thing happened.

One of my co-workers got a dressing down for something from our co-ordinator. Shortly after another co-worker began whispering something to another worker, and they got the giggles. Soon it was just me and the other three workers on the floor; I was fixed on my terminal, but they were bunched up the back sniggering. I was convinced they said snatches of jokes aimed at me; at one stage I thought I heard them say "faxes and emails". 10 to 5 came, my knock-off time, and as I sorted my papers they were still giggling and I had to fight to stop myself from saying "I know what you're doing" or "You think you're so funny don't you?". I left hurriedly, saying a muted goodbye.

As I left and walked to my car, a snippet from the horror movie Carrie came into my head: "They're all gonna laugh at you!!!" (as said by Carrie's fervently religious mother before Carrie goes to the prom). I looked at the youths at the skate park a couple of hundred mentres away, and thought they were calling and crowing about me.
I got into my my car and focused on driving safely home, despite feelings of wanting to get alcohol and wipe out the paranoia I was feeling. Once home I quickly took my nightly dose of Zyprexa and sat down with a non-alcoholic drink, then rang a friend and then, only then, did the feeling and thoughts subside.

I learned a lesson; when I am overtired I can interpret things in a paranoid way. There was every chance that the gigglefest from my co-workers was aimed at the co-ordinator who is not well respected. Even if it was aimed at me, my friend was quick to point out "they're a bunch of dickheads", and not to worry myself over them. Today, the morning after I am not worried anymore. Just glad my schizoaffective has raised it's ugly head then gone again; a reminder to look after my sleep a bit better.

When a website becomes a drug company's Get Out of Jail card

2010-08-02T12:01:00.000+10:00

I discovered a new health website on the weekend; mindbodylife.com.au. It gives a fairly comprehensive view for mental health patients as how to improve their living habits to being healthier. I also discovered that it is sponsored by pharmeceautical company Lily, which gave me food for thought. Why would a drug company give two hoots about caring about the physical health of mental health patients? Then I considered the possible legal aspects and/or cases of people on psych drugs which cause weight gain and any possible court cases which may have been lodged by people who may have developed life-threatening illness like heart disease and type 2 diabetes.

So is Lily covering their arse by creating a caring and sharing website for people like me with schizoaffective or some other illness? I get a fairly constant message from my doctor about needing to lose weight and do more exercise; even when I tell him I walk for 50mins 4 times a week he counters with: It should be an hour every day. Pretty tough love. I see a dietician and haven't had much success; I crave fatty carbs, which I've read can be caused by Zyprexa, which simultaneously then makes it difficult (the zyprexa) for my body to process the said carbs and burn them off. It's tough to lose weight on some drugs, really tough, as many people who take them could attest to.

I wonder how many legal cases or precedents have been set by anyone rich enough to take the drug companies on. You hear about other medications like Vioxx and how that was withdrawn. I just wonder whether its because most mentally ill people tend to be disenfranchised that they can be ordered to take meds which can endanger their physical health to the extent that they develop physical conditions which can be life-threatening. It sucks. I know, I know, the alternative in not taking medication can result in hospitalisation. I just look at my cousin; she's a fair bit older than me, she's 60 and has schizoaffective like me. She was on Lithium for donkey's years and now has to go on dialysis regularly for her kidneys which are shot. It brings it a bit closer to home for me, but she's pretty stoic and cops it on the chin.

I just hope the damned drug giants can refine the crap we currently ingest to the extent that side-effects are a thing of the past. To be honest though, I can't see it happening in my lifetime; I'm 40 and am grateful enough to have tried many different new types of medication in the hope of getting the 'right' balance. So far type 2 diabetes and heart disease haven't raised their head yet, but they are on the cards unless I can lose weight and give up smoking. I'm sure there are some people out there who have managed far better than I have done with far more challenging illnesses; I don't mean to whine. Sometimes medication is frustrating, that's all.

Supercalafragalisticexpialedocious!!

2010-07-31T09:17:00.000+10:00

I had a bright shiny day yesterday; it came as a nice change. The blog heading is a nod to a stage show running in Melbourne at the moment: Mary Poppins opened here last Thursday. I feel like it's catchphrase tune sprinkled some magic dust over me yesterday (metaphorically speaking).

I had been in a very blue funk for several weeks; spending protracted periods of time balled up on the couch in front of my gas heater. It didn't help that one night after work I got totally blitzed on scotch and coke. I took five days off work I had been feeling so black. Fortunately I got to see my psych during this period off work and he initially suggested putting me back on a low dose of Abilify (I said a definite NO to that dizzying, zombifying shaky drug), then suggested a 'weight-neutral' anti-depressant called Cymbalta. I have been taking this for ten days, and yesterday I noticed my first ray of hope.

My psych has me on a low dose of Cymbalta due to my propensity to escalate into mania on pure anti-d's; I'm taking 30mg in the mornings due to it possibly causing insomnia. The only side effects I noticed have been some nausea, a couple of days of headaches and general tiredness. Not as bad as many other drugs I've taken, and I'm prepeared to wear it if it makes my mood brighter, which yesterday it seemed to.

I got to work and felt incredibly tired but strangely relaxed; I found myself during the day laughing more readily, asking questions and generally being animated. This is in stark contrast to my usual office demeanor: withdrawn, silent, controlled, wary, bordering on paranoid, separate from others' interactions, hoping that I don't have to answer the phone or any questions levelled at me in case I don't know and am gasping for an answer; generally very fearful and rigid. I even found myself subtly eyeing off one of my workmates whom I find attractive, as she was wearing a form-fitting black t-shirt which flattered her shapely body. My workplace was a fun place to be yesterday. I never thought I'd find myself saying THAT!

Despite my newfound happiness I know I need to watch for mania signs, particularly when some of the signs seem to be present (chattiness, animated, of good cheer, heightened libido). It's just such a shit that these general 'feelgood' emotions which I'm figuring most people without schizoaffective or bipolar experience in moderate levels on a daily basis without having to second-guess themselves as to whether they are 'unwell'. Because the flip side (grey to black depression) is what I'm used to; when I experience any other than this my immediate reaction is: Don't trust this, you may well be getting sick.

Well today I woke at 8.30 with my alarm and didn't bounce out of bed (having fallen asleep exhausted at around 10.30pm last night); that's usually the most definitive sign, if I only need around 6 hours sleep and have tonnes of energy. Another sign is that I write copious diary entries (not neccessarily blogs; moreso Word documents as I tend to refer to individuals whom I would not want to identify in a public domain). Yes I acknowledge that I'm writing now, but I don't regard this entry as excessive.

I guess I just have to keep a careful eye on myself for the next week or so, which is frustrating. It's just so nice for a change to feel like I'm seeing the world in colour instead of black and white (depressed state).

Tattslotto thinking......

2010-06-25T17:45:00.000+10:00

I am trying to wrestle away from Tattslotto thinking. It's a state of mind when I buy more lotto tickets per week than I can afford (around $70 worth) in the vain bid that I will win the top prize of however many million dollars and will never have to work and be able to spend on things like a holiday (my last holiday was a package trip to Tasmania in 1996. It cost me around $700.) I'd also love to help out family and friends financilly too. And to donate to worthy causes, like housing for the homeless and food vouchers and essential stuff.

I know what it's like to be homeless; I've been there. Not literally out on the street, but living in a boarding house littered with ex-crims and junkies and alcoholics. I've shared emergency accomodation with prostitues and con artists where you had a lock on your bedroom out of neccessity. I've rationed my cigarettes to 10 per day due to the high cost of boarding houses, and saved up for cheap and filling food, like peanuts and bananas because the meals were stingy.

I'm lucky I've found secure affordable housing now, but I think to a degree I've earned it.

Anyway, back to the lotto. I know this is dangerous territory for me because it's a form of escapism which can lead to me wanting to have a booze binge. It'd probably be a one-nighter, but doesn't assist me long term. What I need is relief from healthier things, like walking daily (this hasn't happened for weeks, the weather's turned cold), socialising (ditto), looking after my health and diet, pursuing leisure activities. Basically living life and enjoying it. Accepting reality, not living for some unlikely fantasy (like winning the lotto).

I also want to address something I didn't explain fully last post: the value of working. When I drive home from work I have a modicum of self-esteem in knowing I did an honest day's work. I was useful. I was needed. I belonged somewhere. That's how work can make me feel.

I wish I didn't have to work, but I know I must, and not just for the money

2010-06-23T17:33:00.000+10:00

Lately I've found myself curled up in a ball on the couch in the mornings before I am to go to work. I listen to my crackly transistor and wish I could lull myself to unconsciousness for a few hours. Then at the last minute I lurch up, drag a brush through my hair, toss my smokes and an apple into my handbag and go out the door to work. During the drive to work I am filled with trepidation: will I come across some correspondence I have no clue how to process and have to ask my condescending, moody and (often) downright rude workmate. It's bizarre, when I approach this woman I am tentative and anxious, expecting a disdainful look with a tone that implies "I can't BELIEVE you don't know this one".

My trouble is I have a pretty appauling memory. I used not to, however since being on my medication my memory can be quite poor, which particularly impacts me at work. I currently take 1000mg Epilim, 750g Lithium and 15mg Zyprexa per day. My poor memory added to my general lack of confidence at work often means I am stunned into muteness in the workplace out of fear, which doesn't help me create comraderie with my workmates (there are only 4 others). I spoke to my workplace consultant (she is with the mental illness fellowship who assist me in not only gaining work but staying in a job despite wanting to quit often); she suggested thatI try to create a 'cheat sheet' which shows procedures that I could refer to. Unfortunately due to the widely diverse range of mail that I process it would be imossible to cover everything.
We do have a set of excel speadsheets which details precis and subjects and actions needed (for a database program we use called dataworks), but these only cover about half of the letters we get. I've figured out ways of pulling out similar documents which have already been processed and fishing out the way that was registered, which is my first fallback. But usually once, twice, sometimes 3 times in a day I have to ask the moody girl how to process a document, which I dread.

I feel like I'm creeping around anticipating being yelled at (that used to happen in my last workplace).

The silly thing is I'm not too bad at what I do; I'm fast and accurate and have an eye for detail. My problem is I don't ask enough questions and I tend to forget things that I've been told. My other problem is that I generally shut my mouth and keep to myself which doesn't earn me any friendships. I figure since I slip out for a smoke once or twice a shift that I can't take any more time out. I slip out for a smoke to clear my head and get a break from looking at a computer screen.

The past week I've felt so negatively about work that I seriously considered quitting. I took today off instead.

It's been a bit of an emotional week. My Gran died last week. We had her funeral yesterday. She was 99 years old, poor old possum. She was a beautiful lady with such a kind and thoughful heart. I hope she's in a better place.

Walking into wellness thru winter and stopping the smokes

2010-06-02T16:52:00.000+10:00

Initially I thought that a daily one hour walk would help me shed kilos and then I would be a happier person. Little did I know that the said walk itself can help me feel better about myself if I keep it up daily. Walking is my meditation; for the first 20 or so minutes I have thoughts buzzing around, sometimes at a frantic pace. The next 20 or so minutes I begin noticing my environment more, like birds and goings on in the neighbourhood. The final 20 minutes are me starting to build a sweat under my mackintosh which doesn't breathe and challenging myself up and down hills. When I get home I have a couple of waters and a cigarette and feel on top of the world.
I know the irony of the cigarette post doing something healthy; it's ridiculous. Today I was talking to my home-based outreach worker about wanting to quit smoking. I'm 40 now; have been smoking a pack a day since I was 18. I have developed a slight cough; my sinuses are tortured which compounds me feeling tired much of the time (something I don't need when my meds already contribute to tiredness); my dentist told me last checkup that my gums are showing signs of being diseased (I thought it was because I didn't floss, but I learned this week that smoking causes gum disease) and that my teeth are going to fall out.

On top of these health concerns, there's the financial cost of smoking. The Australian government recently put a new tax on cigarettes; the average pack of 25 cigs costs $12-$14. I buy one of the cheapest brands on the market, and a carton of eight (which lasts me around a week) costs $100. Yup $100 a week to smoke in Australia. The proportion of lower socio-economic groups who smoke is high, and we of course have to cop it or quit. It fucking stinks. Yes I know smoking stinks as well, but there's scant little offered by the government to assist people in quitting smoking. I have concerns in trying to quit. Last time I tried to quiit I became incredibly anxious and depressed. My psychiatrist told me to tell him before I try and quit so he can adjust my meds.

So I see my psych next Wednesday. I will ask his advice on stopping smoking. I really don't want my teeth to fall out and have to wear dentures in my 40's. I also don't want to get emphysemia (any worse than I already have it that is).

Seeya xo

Next day and the calm has come across

2010-04-29T11:10:00.000+10:00

I slept ok last night; got about 9 hours in fact. I have rung my psych's proxy as I said I would, only got the receptionist who said he'll ring back soon once he's read my file. I imagine he's seeing patients all morning so it'd be quite possible that he won't ring for a while. I'm due at work this arvo so will ring them again before I go if I don't hear from them.

I feel a bit less zippy today...probably last night's meds still in me and a decent sleep helps. I almost feel like a bit of a fraud for ringing my sister and getting her worried and making a drama out of what was perhaps just me being a bit overtired. And yes, being slightly affected by lunar (full moon) activity. It does make a difference. Along with PMT, although that wasn't an issue last night.

However it's undeniable that I've overspent in the past week, not dangerously so, but significantly. I did feel quite buzzed last night, but don't this morning.

I'm repeating myself. I think the storm has passed.

it's a full moon and i'm a-howwling!!!

2010-04-28T21:49:00.000+10:00

Yes. Wednesday the 28th April 2010 and it's a full moon. And hey presto, I'm showing signs of elevation. Like so;

The past week I've spent hundreds of dollars on stuff I don't need;
I'm a bit lacking in appetite;
I have a fair bit of energy (not frenzied but a bit above usual);
Today I thought my gym instructor was flirting with me when he was probably just being nice;
I set up a profile on an internet dating site - something I'd vowed not to do again because of the weirdos I've met;
It's 9.55pm and I'm chugging on Pepsi Max and Cigarettes even though I KNOW I need not to do that in the evenings if I am to sleep.

But here's the kicker: my psychiatrist is on annual leave till June. He does have a proxy I can call. Tonight I called my local hospital psych triage and they told me to call the proxy tomorrow and that I can call them tonight if need be. So that's ok. I think I need to see the proxy asap and get a meds adjustment. I'm due to go to work tomorrow but I'll see how I sleep tonight and feel tomorrow. When things go downhill for me it tends to happen fairly quickly: I can be totally manic and psychotic within 24-48 hours if things are bad enough. I don't think that's the way I'm going tonight; as the triage guy said I've caught it early and I have some insight, which is a blessing.

However I tend to self-sabotage a bit when like this, such as the pepsi max and cigs. It's as if I almost enjoy inducing mania, the fluorescent flamboyant Hyde to my dour depressed Jeckyll whom inhabits my frame 95% of the time. I really, really wish I could manage my Hyde...for him not to be such a destructive element to my psyche. Because Hyde can be truly erudite, witty and charming. The life of the party. Life is sparkling and truly a gem through Hyde's eyes. Hyde can look himself in the mirror and feel pride and self esteem. Yet this lasts all too briefly. Then Hyde's perspective twinges with paranoia: she's reading my mind....why is he laughing at me?.....they are plotting against me....she wants to kill me...he is a demon in disguise. The terror rolls and rolls in waves of agony and the word 'fear' cannot adequately describe the gripping freezing ROAR of conspiracy and malicious intent against you. It is torture, and it follows wherever you go, especially into psychiatric hospital wards, where people are quick to pick off the weak and pillorise and mock them. Sometimes there is violence, often in fact. The only thing that goes down like a Jack Daniels chaser is a shot of Liquid Largactil...ahhhh...the numb, the numb...the hamster wheel of a mind starts to slow...the adrenalin lessens - for now.

But I digress. Not unusual for one who is slightly unravelled. My schizoaffective self has popped it's head up to announce "don't forget about me, sonny Jim...not now, not today...it's a full moon, and I'm going to give you a run for your money!!!"

Fair shot Hyde. I could be derelict in my duty to remain as sane as is possible within my control. I could do this by making myself an expresso, or just by continuing to chugg down pepsi max. I could go to sleep at 5am, having listened to old music, typed out realms of garblings, cleaned out all the cupboards, done some baking...the list goes on. And then I could call in sick tomorrow, make an appointment to see Psych proxy and say...poor little ol' sick schizoaffective me: meds & a sick certificate please, and take a week off work.

Well I don't intend to do that. I'll try to sleep before 1am but won't panic if I don't. I'll ring Psych proxy at 8.30am and try to get in to see him tomorrow or the next day. I'll go to work and do the best I can. I'll try to eat properly. I'll keep in touch with people who care and who matter and who know my situation. I'll do all that Jeckyll stuff.

For all his boringness Jeckyll is the glue that keep this frame together. Along with some professional help and family and friends. It's not so bad being Jeckyll.

I just wish being Hyde wasn't so intoxicating!!!

Not sober for a change...

2010-04-01T19:02:00.000+11:00

The past few weeks I have been dabbling in the drinkies again. I did have 21months of unbroken sobriety, but found myself at breaking point, so I drank. Nothing particularly bad happened, in fact I'm pretty predictable when I drink. it's at home, alone till I get so tired (it mixes with my meds) that I fall into bed only to waken a few hours later with a really dry throat and a throbbing head. The negative manily is that I tend to feel foggy and flat for a few days afterwards. I might add that it doesn't take much for me to go into numbness and hence fall into bed: usually a six pack of mixed spirits or beer will do the trick.

So if that's all there is to my drinking, why do I beat myself up if I drink? Part of that's due to an AA legacy. When I've descended into daily drinking in previous years, I end up feeling pretty black. Basically I become suicidal. So I did rehabs, and most of them pointed to AA as the long term solution to staying sober. The average AA person I have come across who has 'busted' and picked up a drink has had pretty diabolical consequences as a result. I'm an unusual cat in AA. I've busted between 20-30 times and have not really paid a heavy price; mostly just a hangover. Never lost a job, family or friends over drinking. It's odd, and rare. Quite possibly the reason why I do a repeat performance, because I do so love drinking. i just don't like the consequences, hence I go back and forth to AA.

Tonight I'm drinking a beer which has 'a hint of lime and a touch of salt', or so the label says. Enough to hook me in. Look....it's the Easter break, there's a football match on TV tonight and I start 2 weeks of annual leave as of today. I'm celebrating. But I know I can't drink every night, and that I've got to go back to AA, which both galls and relieves me. Galling that I have to fess up to boozing again and risk being judged; a relief that I can meet with people who know what it's like to deal with everyday issues without resorting to destructive types of drinking.

I wish I could afford to drink, I really do. But I overindulge to the extent that after a period of sustained drinking, I want to kill myself. I become morbidly depressed. That's no way to live. I have trouble alone keeping depression at bay when I'm sober, let alone a drunkard. The healthy living stuff I try to do: walking, eating healthy, socialising....it all falls like a house of cards when I'm drinking.

Hence I sincerely hope that tonight's my last night of drinking. I don't need to be a suicidal zombie. Ciao xo

Waiting for Easter holidays.....

2010-03-31T19:33:00.000+11:00

It's the last day of March and I am burned out. Work is positively horrible at present with staff shortages and people acting out. I find myself feeling more and more stressed there to the extent that I have been tossing and turning about work worries for the past month. I even had an emergency appointment with my shrink last week over work stress.
Basically there's a pair of female co-workers who buddy up and bully me, one moreso than the other. It's subtle and hard to document; at times it could be said that I'm being paranoid about them (particularly given that I am prone to paranoia).

However I don't imagine expressions on faces, nor inflections or tones to voices and what is said to me. Basically the main bully is a girl I have to ask procedural questions of on a frequent basis. She is a rather moody soul and is inclined to take it out on people like me. I know I'm not the only one to have copped her fouul temper or snide manner: other people have complained about her. However she is very good at her job, hence she gets away with a lot of poor behaviour. My boss describes her as being "the bear loose from the cage" when she's in a bad mood, and has pulled her aside on more than one occaision and told her to pull her head in.

Anyway, tomorrow is my last day of work before Easter, and I then have 2 weeks of annual leave after that, so I am looking forward to having a break. My first proper holiday since Nov 2008 - I have had time off in 2009 when admitted to Psych hospital twice, but I would hardly call that a vacation. I'm not going away anywhere for a holiday (a further ambition to achieve); instead I have a handful of household jobs that need doing, like painting my bedroom, doing some gardening and general cleaning jobs that I've been putting off. I also intend on doing some fun stuff, like practising at the golf drving range and going to the dog pound to see any potential doggie companion for me.

That's about it from me for now. Ciao XO

It's the festive season, so I'm eating fruit loops and drinking chinotto

2009-12-10T13:59:00.000+11:00

So what can a schizoaffective alcoholic indulge in as Xmas approaches? There's the lure of boozy office Xmas break-ups, the prospect of spending Xmas day with the less-than-happy relatives...you get the idea. It can be stressful. So to give myself a minor modicum of cheer, I let myself have Fruit Loops for breakfast and drink Chinotto instead of diet cola for the month of December...my treat to myself.

I also am turning 40 in a few days; the mid-point of my life perhaps (if the smoking of cigarettes doesn't force me prematurely to my grave). I'm choosing to celebrate with some friends over brunch. About half of these friends are from AA.

I am struggling to like work at the moment; my boss and most of my co-workers are younger than me and prattle on about things which really hold no interest to me. I keep buying lotto tickets in the insane hope that I will win the jackpot and need never work again. My chances of winning are around 40 million to one. Yet still I buy the tickets. "The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result". Have heard that at many an AA meeting.

I am 19 months sober today. I have felt wobbly in my sobriety for the past two months. Had drinking thoughts on several occasions. Need to up my AA meetings. Have had another medication change; am now off the Abilify (thank god) and am onto Lithium. I have a tremour which is pretty severe at times, and get tired, but otherwise have some renewed confidence. My chemical cocktail is now Lithium, Epilim and Zyprexa. I have put on 2 kilos in the past three weeks, but have not been walking as much, so understandable.

That's all for now. Am feeling pretty flat :(

Wikipedia self diagnosis...yup, I'm navel gazing again

2009-11-01T11:40:00.000+11:00

Why am I disinterested in looking up issues of the world and its goings-on via the net then making a social commentary? That's what a lot of people who blog do. Instead it's a bit about me, then a bit more, then lots more and finally all-encompassing me-ness for blogging.

I guess I tend to keep up with local (Australian) news more than world issues via television and radio. I am pretty insular in this mode; also I lack the unborn curiousity into issues to look up on the net due to an overwhelming pre-occupation with mental illness issues (which I do look up).

My 3-D contact with people has been severely compromised due to 2009 being one of the most fucked-up years I've had in managing my illness; I have lost so much confidence that I am a shell of who I have been in the past; this has been brewing for some years however.

Getting to the point: I trawled Wikipedia yesterday to better understand the social difficulties I have. The only diagnosis my Psych has given me is schizoaffective and 'vulnerable personality', whatever the hell that means.

Here's what I dug up;

Avoidant personality disorder (AvPD)[1] (or Anxious personality disorder[2]) is a personality disorder recognized in the DSM handbook, characterized by a pervasive pattern of social inhibition, feelings of inadequacy, extreme sensitivity to negative evaluation and avoidance of social interaction.
People with AvPD often consider themselves to be socially inept or personally unappealing, and avoid social interaction for fear of being ridiculed, humiliated, rejected or disliked.

also this one;

Borderline personality disorder (BPD) is a psychiatric diagnosis in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (DSM-IV Personality Disorders 301.83)[1] that describes a prolonged disturbance of personality function characterized by depth and variability of moods.[2] The disorder typically involves unusual levels of instability in mood; "black and white" thinking, or splitting; chaotic and unstable interpersonal relationships, self-image, identity, and behavior; as well as a disturbance in the individual's sense of self

furthermore on BPD;

The relationship between bipolar disorder and borderline personality disorder has been debated. Some hold that the latter represents a subthreshold form of affective disorder,[44][45] while others maintain the distinctness between the disorders, noting they often co-occur.[46][47]
Some findings suggest that BPD may lie on a bipolar spectrum, with a number of points of phenomenological and biological overlap between the affective lability criterion of borderline personality disorder and the extremely rapid cycling bipolar disorders.[48][49] Some findings suggest that the DSM-IV BPD diagnosis mixes up two sets of unrelated items—an affective instability dimension related to Bipolar-II, and an impulsivity dimension not related to Bipolar-II.[50]

So the Psych last week made a new assessment of 'rapid cycling' in my moods, based on a daily mood monitor I have kept for over a month. Basically the moods have fallen and risen like spaghetti: in every direction, sometimes varying daily. Thus the call for Lithium.

I don't mean to waggle my arms in the air and proclaim some profound self truths based on being able to relate to the above Wikipedia citations. Yet my Psych can only make judgement based on my aural, personal presentation when he sees me for around 20mins every fortnight.

I've only had this Psych since January when hospitalised in the private system due to me taking out health insurance; before that a General Practitioner prescribed me my meds; prior to him I've had 9 or so Psychs in a 15 year period (this number is high partially due to when I was in the public system being case managed and had a revolving door of Psychs who only had an appointment of 6 months...sometimes when addressing me they got my name wrong, let alone my symptoms...a pretty appauling system thanks to the state of the public mental health).

I know it's perhaps a futile exercise to venture into the Wiki domain of self-diagnosing - what does it achieve? Another label? That's not my aim; I look at the "Treatment" sections with interest. I guess were I happier and having fruitful friendships and were I with a partner, none of this would matter 2 hoots to me. Life would be there to be enjoyed, not mulled over and dissected in detail; ruminating and being filled with self-pity, resentment and loneliness.

I mostly find it extroardinarily difficult to socialise presently, yet I have a basic need for self-expression. I choose to mostly do this in Microsoft word, but on occasion blurt it out into cyberspace.

Believe it or not I do put on a brave face as frequently as I can, I show interest in others' issues when speaking to them, I do care beyond the self domain. I would lack humanity if I didn't.

Really, 2009 has just been a bit of a shitty year. It's just that I don't walk with crutches, or have my arm in a sling; my healing process is slow and yet invisible. People see me and I guess don't 'see' the illness or at least find it hard to make any concession for any weird or odd mannerisms I have due to symptoms.

Time to stop navel gazing. I have housework to do.

After a slow day @ home something for a bit of a chuckle...

2009-10-30T17:53:00.000+11:00

Robbers caught using 'the worst disguise ever'
October 30, 2009 - 10:06AM

Tried to hide their faces ... Matthew McNelly, 23, and Joey Miller, 20.
It's been labelled the worst disguise ever - two men arrested over a burglary attempt in the US were found with fake beards and masks scrawled on their faces with a permanent marker.
Police stopped the car of Matthew McNelly, 23, and Joey Miller, 20 after it matched the description of a vehicle used by two men who allegedly tried to break into an Iowa apartment last Friday night.
When officers looked inside the 1994 Buick Roadmaster, they were surprised to find the men with masks, beards and moustaches painted on their face in some sort of rudimentary disguise.
“It's a little weird,” local police chief Jeff Cayler told Radio Iowa.
"I've been here long enough that I've seen a lot of things, but this one's a little different compared to most ... I mean, just the face thing is what sets it apart."
Mugshots of the pair show the black ink scribbles on their faces.
A number of US blogs, including the popular Huffington Post, described it as "the worst disguise ever".
The men may have been under the influence of alcohol when they devised the idea for their disguises.
"For what it's worth, it appeared they had both been drinking quite a bit and maybe weren't thinking quite rationally,” Police chief Cayler said.

I've spent most of the day mooching around at home; when I came across this one I couldn't help but laugh; reminds me of the 2 Aussies who tried to rob a bank in the US a few years back (ie: the ones labelled 'dumb and dumber').

My only dumbass contribution to this post is in admitting I bought a ticket for tomorrow night's $20 million tattslotto draw, when i know full well the odds of winning are around 14million to one. I guess if I lose, I don't do jail time, unlike these poor bastards!

Anti Social behaviour and why I do it - schizoaffective view

2009-10-25T11:15:00.000+11:00

I was out having coffee with an aquaintance a couple of weeks ago in a shopping mall. She suggested we go window shopping afterwards; we looked at a few stores, then said our goodbyes. I say "aquaintance' instead of friend, because this is only the second time we've met for coffee; otherwise we tend to text each other a few times per week. My instinct after coffee was to say my goodbyes and roam the centre on my own, but I sucked it in and went around with her. My instincts tell me that I can only stand being around most people, even if I know then reasonably well, for short periods. This perplexes and saddens me. It perpetuates my solitary state, which I both crave and dread.

I have not always been this way. I used to more actively seek out company. Sometimes I made what I thought were good friendships, via school, work or other groups. Yet this diminished as I approached my mid-twenties. This coincided with my first major psychotic episode and being diagnosed and medicated. I spent around six months in post-psychotic depression and was zombie-like due to heavy meds (including that grandaddy fucker of a pill called Stellazine). I then used to wonder why people tended not to return my phonecalls promptly enough for my liking, if at all. It was the start of people knowing "the mentally ill me" as opposed to just me the co-worker, the college student, the housemate, the family member. My entire identity turned on its medicated head, due to me spilling my guts about why I was the way I was. I had figured honesty was the best policy: it was pretty hard to disguise my 1st manic and psychotic episode aged 26. I still have tended to 'out' myself regarding my illness to most people. I am realising increasingly how this can be a really bad move.

There's a handful of people I know whom I ring regularly and we care about each other. I guess they are friends. We meet few times per year all up; maybe once or twice for a coffee or lunch. These people all know I am schizoaffective, they accept me for that. And yet I'm not really close to any of them. Whether it's them being wary or me - or a bit of both, I'm not sure. All I know is that I have been burned by quite a few people I once trusted. Unfortunately this has resulted in me sometimes ending some friendships too; I have learned how to be an arsehole to others just as some people have been to me. This is not good.

The net result is that I spend around 80% of most waking days (when not working) in solitude. I am a bit (or a lot) of a hermit. I am not great with technology, including the internet (this explains the basic look of my blog; I don't know how to customise it the way I see others doing it). I shun sites like MySpace and Facebook: as far as I can tell they are social networking sites and I am an inherently anti-social person. I don't have pics of my latest outing to share with my friends. Come to think of it I don't have pics I have taken for over the past ten or so years. The few ones with me in it are Xmases and family occasions where I sit there, bloated and double-chinned and pale-skinned with a half attempt at smiling with a sad look in my eyes.

Oh for fucks sake can you hear the violins???? This is pathetic. It's little wonder I have sought solace in the shape of alcohol over the past 15 or so years. Yes I know, I know, my name says I'm sober. I have been for the past 17 months. I'd fucking kill for a drink at times like now. I feel angry sad bitter misconstrued misunderstood mistreated....all of that. And yet my family expect me to suck it up, stop with the self pity, get on with being productive and attempt to fashion out a life for myself; this includes having friends and (god forbid) a decent relationship.

People in AA would have a lot to say about my little rant here: write a gratitude list, pray, do service, go to a meeting, help a fellow alcoholic who is suffering more than you...etc.

I have been struggling with the AA juggernaut the past 3 or so weeks. I have jumped off the bandwagon, doing only 1-3 meetings per week (strictly poor form for someone so early in sobriety according to common AA 'wisdom'). This is partially because I have been struggling with being in a group setting due to medication issues (refer to earlier posts - Abilify).

I was at an AA meeting yesterday, and was talking to a couple of people afterwards. One lady quizzed me what my illness was again (she had forgotten), the joked that when she had been studying psychiatry she used to self-diagnose using the DSM 1V. Some people can be nice enough, as she was, and yet I'd like to bet she would not be comfortable going for coffee with me. I could be wrong, but it appears the only ones who feel 'safe' with me are people who also have mental health issues, mostly depressive types.

I then forge 'friendships' with these depressives, who have (in past times) bombarded me with their angst over phonecalls. Now, I understand that friends lean on each others' shoulders for a cry. Yet when I've done this in the past I can't help but wonder whether this has been the catalyst for driving them away - whether depressive or manic. I know that when psychotic me pops up that people have become very cold and say "ring your health authority", meaning hospital psych triage, which I do.

I don't know whether people are wary that the unwell me might 'pop up' spontaneously and endanger them if alone with me. I hope this isn't the case, however I suspect it might be.

Well that's a fucking pisser if ever there was one. No wonder my social life is fucked up. I struggle to even make virtual friends (I am really bad with internet etiquette, and have a remarkable propensity to write with 'foot in mouth' tendencies and get absolutely slammed for it).

Maybe I'm just a hard-wired anti-social bitch. I hope not. Yet I sometimes wonder.

When moods are like Yellow and Red M and M's - a schizoaffective perspective

2009-10-23T19:44:00.001+11:00

I just watched an ad I've seen about ten times, only tonight I saw it differently, quite possibly because I have been in a very good mood today. You could almost say I'm on a high compared to recent weeks.

The ad in question is one where a mother figure brings out a red 'jersey' from the washing and intones "ok, who put this red thing in with the wash?". The item is the red M&M animated figure's; he comes strolling out with a towel around his waist and says "oh no, that can't be mine, that's a 'w', mine's an 'm'". At this stage, the yellow M&M figure says dolefully "mine's a 'w'..." while looking down at his chest.

Basically, the whole series of red versus yellow M&M figurines pit the red guy (aggressive, accusatory, savvy, confrontational) against the yellow (doleful, self-depreciating, gullible).

This may sound wacky, but I can relate to 'being' the yellow M&M for most of the time, when I am in what my sister describes as 'my usual steady, plodding self'. However on days like I've had today, and have felt more confident, articulate and (dare I say) attractive...it's sorta like I morph into shades of the red M&M. It's days like today that I need to be vigilant about things like caffeine levels, time of taking meds, watching my spending and (importantly) watching what I say and write.
The red guy in me can spell being very unwell. For that matter, so too can ultra-down times of being yellow. I'll probably read back this later and think: you know what, this is not such a 'revelation'. I guess I choose to write it now because I'm @ home alone (typical) and want to share just a quirky thought with someone.

Speaking of thoughts, I am on the watch for 'coincidences' and tending to read significance into things that have no significance; this is my tipping point over into surreal thought, paranoia and possibly psychosis. Which then means hospital....AGAIN.

I've had 2 hospitalisations due to psychotic mania this year. It's so disruptive to any semblance of trying to get on with life. The job on hold, then a return to work plan (I know I am fortunate to have this and not get the sack, I am grateful). Feeling safer being holed up at home alone, isolating. Lots of disruptive behaviours, like not cooking or cleaning or having a regular sleep/wake cycle. That's not to mention the side-effects of the 'new and improved' meds I get tried upon me when I am in the safety of hospital.

I've been on Solian, Epilim, Avanza, Zyprexa, Largactil, Valium, Zeldox, Lamictal & Abilify this year. Not all at once; rather in varying compilations. Net result? Tired, weak, dizzy, thirsty, nauseous, confused, really poor memory, anxiety, tremours, restlessness, blunted expression. All of this has added up to a significant loss in self-confidence, particularly at work.

I work in an office doing information management. It's like records management. It's skilled work yet you don't need a tertiary qualification necessarily, but you do need comprehension skills and an eye for detail. I am on reduced duties at present; have been for the past three months. I don't know how much longer they can keep me on; I know I am costing the department in lost productivity. I can sense some frustration from co-workers. I do not get involved in office politics at all. I feel quite alone at work to tell the truth. My flatness and lost confidence means I have reduced initiative, which doesn't go down too well. So I believe I have reason for concern. Or maybe I'm paranoid and negative, also quite possible.

Getting back to my initial observation about the M&M tv advertisement: 'being' either colour sucks for me really. Red means manic and yellow is depressive. Neither is much fun ultimately, even though red can be exhilarating until you realise you've been out of control and done some cringeworthy behaviours.

Maybe I just gotta aim at being an orange M&M!!!!

Climbing out of the darkness; Abilify affected or not

2009-10-10T19:07:00.000+11:00

The past month has been pretty dark for me; coincidentally my shrink started me on Abilify a bit over a month ago. The mood has been beyond flat at times, with floods of tears and angst, a pronounced fear of being in the company of others around whom I normally have a 'brave' face (ie: people I only sorta know and work colleagues), total loss of structure with sleep & diet& exercise & housework. Basically I fell into a heap. I found solace in retreating home, sitting having cigarette after cigarette and staring into space.

A week ago I saw my shrink again; he must have noticed a difference as he requested my next visit to be within 10 days instead of three weeks. However his response was to increase the Abilify up to 15mg for a week then up to 20 as of yesterday, which I have done.

My reason for concern was that I researched side effects from Abilify and found that (uncommon as it was) Abilify can create depression for some. I have tolerated nausea, tremours, minor twitches and a bit of restlessness from it so far. I need to be careful when I mention twitches and restlessness, as these can be serious (they become permanent). Put it this way, they haven't been overwhelming.

Just as I thought I was armed with all the evidence I needed to demand to be taken off Abilify, I heard an inspirational share at an AA meeting last Wednesday which helped me take control of the reins again. This guy said that just when he thought all was hopeless, that nobody cared, all of a sudden it hit him like a thunderbolt: "I Care" (meaning about himself). That was enough for him to seek help.

I know he was referring to drinking, but for me it works with mood too. If I care enough about me, I can be bothered to cook a meal for me alone. If I care about myself, I do the housework so I don't feel depressed looking around my home. You can see the ongoing pattern.

My shrink organised a visit from the community pych nurse, who last week assessed me as being 'quite unwell', with the need for another visit from her next week. That was before I went to the meeting and heard the guy. She mentioned I needed structure in my day again, to get my sleeping habits right I needed to be up by at least 9am daily. I need to walk, she said. I told her I had an unpleasant experience of being swooped by a magpie (it's nesting season here and this big bird has a sharp beak and they aim for the head), undaunted she said "so walk under an umbrella". Overall she had several suggestions for me, which I noted down.

The past 3 days have been gradually better, today being the best day overall. I mowed my front lawn today with a handmower which was good solid work. I went to an AA meeting and did some clothes washing and reading. Overall it's been the most productive I've been in quite a few weeks. So hopefully I'm crawling out into the light again.

I know my shrink wants the Abilify to work for me because it's weight-neutral, and for that reason I do too. I just need to be very careful to observe whether the 'tics' etc are significant or just in my imagination.

I turned 17 months sober today. Yippee. I know I should be excited, but really the past 10 months or so have been psychiatrically challenging. It's not been a sobriety of much joy. Yet I know it would be hellish if I went back to addiction, so I remain abstinent. I don't follow the yammerings of program that I hear some people talk about from the floor of an I.D meeting. I've tried working the 12 steps and have found it frustrating and fruitless - more than once. I bought a dual recovery book from Amazon, and so far it's been very good; I only got it a week or so ago.
This book is also 12 step based but is reworked to allow for psych illnesses. I haven't finished reading it yet but am enjoying what I have read.

Just hand me the worry beads

2009-09-16T12:01:00.000+10:00

I've worked out that I pretty much manage to worry about just about anything these days; have done for a long time. It's pretty rare that I go through a worry-free day. What was 'major issue' stuff in my head a month ago will not be the same as this month; some elements might still be there, but overall the worry cloud has reconfigured to a diferent shape.

Last post I was worrying about my diet and work. Today I stepped on the scales and *finally* after 3 months I have gone down a kilo to 79. Until the past fortnight my walking had been sporadic, often not at all for a week here and there. The past fortnight I have walked for 45 minutes or so 4-5 times. The past 3 days I didn't have a skerrick of junk food either, including Pepsi Max. Except for last night, when I had a craving for alcohol late yesterday afternoon at work, so got a can of full-sugar coke and had a full stick of garlic bread for dinner. It was either that or drink, so I compromised the diet.

Today my worry cloud has transformed into AA (again). I now have a service position which will see me rooted to the same meeting for 12 months, and I'm not happy about that. I like being able to decide spontaneously when and where I'll do a meeting; I certainly dislike being responsible for setting up a meeting and feeling like I have to 'make it a good meeting' for everyone. Aside from that I have reservations about the meetings in the area I live, and am reverting to thinking of travelling far to go to meetings, but that's mainly based on resentments I have on 2 or 3 men at the meetings I have been attending.

Another issue which has surfaced is that my doctor prescribed valium for me when he put me on Abilify, which can (and has) caused a degree of agitation and restlessness. The problem is I have abused this (taken more than prescribed) and felt 'hungover' the next day and in an odd mood.
I cannot tell AA people about this because some will declare that I am no longer sober and need to change my sobriety date, which would kill my pride. I have worked so hard not to drink the past 16 months. But I need to tell someone. I'll tell my counsellor tomorrow.

I'm feeling pretty low on energy so might leave it there. Tried walking but had lead legs due to the menstrual fairy bobbing up (thank you not). Bye.

Today I feel a bit better than the past 3 weeks

2009-09-11T19:40:00.000+10:00

Saw my Psych today and he said that me not putting on weight (I've been steady for 3 months on 80 kilos) is a good thing since I am on so much olanzapine (15mg; it was 20 for most of the past couple of months). He wants to reduce my Epilim to 1400mg (down 100); then again down to 1200 next time I see him (3 weeks), with a view to gradually increasing the Abilify if I can tolerate it.
I walked today late this afternoon and felt filled with energy, unlike earlier in the day when I felt so fatigued I napped for an hour or so mid afternoon. When I am tired I tend to think very negatively.

I have a feeling that my poor diet has contributed a lot to my energy levels (or lack of). However I really have improved in my breakfasts and lunches...it's my night meal that remains suspect. I still struggle to get up early, so tend to eat breakfast (1* weet bix and half a cup of all-bran with either a cup of tinned fruit or a teaspoon of honey and a cup of low fat milk) at about 9.30-10am. I then don't feel really hungry for lunch if I am working that day (I start at 1pm and have to eat by 12.30pm...not really acceptable to eat at my desk), but I force myself to either have 2* sushi rolls or something like a cheese sandwich if I'm bored or something better like a small tin of salmon on toast with tomato.
However by the time I get home at 5.15 pm I am ravenous and have to try hard not to binge eat as soon as I walk in the door. I usually let myself have a couple of mini packets of rice crackers (the flavoured ones with msg...like cheese)to take the edge off, then sit and have a couple of diet pepsi glasses with a few smokes before watching the 6 o' clock news. I usually eat dinner between 6.30-7pm and if I've worked, I struggle to find the energy to make something from scratch and clean up again, so I tend to cook meals for 2-3 serves on Sat and Sun nights and freeze them, and alternate this with a couple of Lean Cuisines during the week.

This would all be ok if I DIDN'T have a weekly serve or 2 (or 3) of junk food, like McFucked, or Hungry Jumbo, Fish n Chips etc. If I didn't do this I might lose more weight. I'm also prone to slipping one or two (or 3) "bad" items in my grocery trolley, like single serve tiramisu, or a custard tart, or some oven-fry chips with stuff to dip them in. Again, stuff that keeps (or adds) the weight on, and must send my sugar levels into overdrive.

Another strange occurance.....I was drinking about 1.5 litres of Pepsi Max a day the past 3 weeks (most days, sometimes more)...on the days when I have had only a couple of glasses and have stuck mostly to water (around eight glasses) I felt much calmer. Yes I know the caffeine wouldn't help; maybe also the additives to Pepsi Max can affect mood. I know I mostly stick to it because it's my "drink"; my substitute for alcohol at this stage in my sobriety. BTW I turned 16months sober yesterday, another day sober; unthinkable some 9 years ago. I know it's taken me a long time both in and out of AA to achieve the time of unbroken sobriety that I have done. I also know some people who have a mental illness who managed to stop drinking and/or using without AA.

For me, I'll stick with what's working for now. I know people might think; well if it worked so well why aren't you 9 years sober? I don't know the answer to that; AA works differently for different people. The only thing I can say was that every time I picked up a drink again (after having been to rehab and AA) I thought I could manage it. I thought it wouldn't snowball again. I really really wanted to be back as I was 20 years ago, having the odd binge once a fortnight with friends out at a social function having a laugh. The thing is there are some people my age who still chase the youthful social 'party animal' scene; even older than me. And there's nothing wrong with that, if that makes people happy.
Where it goes wrong with me is that I'll need a few drinkies Before I meet my friends, and also a supply for when I crash home. I would also be drinking every night at home alone, when not meeting the drinking buddies. I would also be drifting into unconciousness every night as the booze mixed with my meds to make me drowsy and most night wish that I could die in my sleep.

I don't wish I could die in my sleep today. Not at one stage in the past 3 weeks, however depressed I became, did I feel suicidal. That only happens if I'm psychotic (usually a meds miscalculation by either me or my doctor) or if I'm drinking. I rarely get psychotic, I am grateful about that.

The worst I felt in the past 3 weeks was one night when I kept listening to Radiohead's song from "OK Computer" called "Paranoid Android" on repeat and staring into space, smoking at 1am or so in the morning. I felt alone and disconnected to the world. I had a lingering malady the next week or so, feeling very negative about work along with my uncle dying from illness.

However my employment workers (people who coach me into turning up to work when I feel down or paranoid; people who discourage me from being hypersensitive to office politics etc) finally suggested to me that I could just grit my teeth for the next months or two while maybe looking for other work; that there are lots of opportunities out there (they are an agency). So that gave me hope.

I also walked 4 days this week. That helped.

Finally, today my Psych said that it was not unusual for schizoaffective people to feel socially inept in a group situation when on certain medications which can render them somewhat blank-faced. He said that peopl who were once 'the life of the party' (particularly when manic) tend to close up a bit later on in a group setting, and yet they can become most animated and conversational when one-on-one. That made me feel a lot better about the whole AA group situation I have been battling with and why I find it really hard to mill around in a circle and talk while having a smoke before or after a meeting....particularly with a group of 'sick' alcoholics.

That'll do for now. The football is about to start. It's the finals series! Football (Australian Rules) is such an escape for me. It's my guilty pleasure. Bye x

In memorium and thoughts on life and friends

2009-08-28T19:29:00.000+10:00

My uncle's funeral is next Wednesday. This is what I remember of him;

He was a plumber, then built kitchens; he married young; he was softly spoken but could be stern and steadfast; according to my Mum he looked like Tab Hunter when he was younger; his first wife died of cancer; he remarried and lived on a large rural property; he was a fire captain with the voluntary fire fighters; he developed a talent for sketching in later years; he endured an unusual and virulent strain of parkinsons disease for the last ten or so years of his life; as his physical health deteriorated he developed depression, at times psychotic. He helped me out a few times when I was mentally unwell over the past 10 years.

Mum's still sad but is coming to terms with it. I'm going to visit her this weekend. Even my Dad was decent enough to send her a note of condolence (they divorced over 30 years ago).

Life's too short isn't it?

No matter how shitty it gets, in spite of the blackness, the i-see-me-ness of the ugliness of endogenous depression.....when someone I've loved has now left life on earth, it puts stuff in perspective.

I want to have decent friends....I know I have some, but I'm only learning to gradually trust ones with whom I have much in common.

I want to love someone intimately and be loved in return and have it last; a partner, not family.

I want to say what's on my mind Really...not to hang back lacking in confidence and feel inadequate (eg: at work around some people with questionable character).

Life's too short. My uncle didn't make it to 70; some might say that's not too bad an innings, which to a degree it isn't; but the quality of life he had for the last five or so years has been severely compromised. To be debilitated from one's early 60's onward scares me somewhat.

Makes me realise that eating junk food, smoking, not exercising....I could conceivably be physically unwell with a myriad of stuff like Heart Disease, type 2 diabetes, Breast Cancer etc. by the time I get to 60; if I last that long.

I don't want to die that young. I haven't experienced enough good stuff yet. It's not all been bad, yet I have a propensity to continually see the negatives in life. I guess that's why I'm on medication, see a psychiatrist and a clinical psychologist. It may explain the coming and going of friends I've made over the past 15 years; there's been between 20-50 come and go. I have many 'associates'; people who will be friendly to me but that's it. They don't ring me; I ring them, until I get fed up and stop trying to induce a friendship.

However I am able to still learn. I have made one AA friend this year with whom I do speak regularly, and the communication is 2-way. I have a handful of associates from AA whom I've 'befriended' over the past year or so as well.

Back to my uncle: his ceremony will have family and friends. I will be the only niece that has no partner; I'm used to that, along with the childless aspect. There will be alcohol there. I will have to contain myself and my insecurities and try to think of other people rather than myself. As you may have noticed, I find that difficult to do at the best of times. Years worth of isolation and poor socialisation have contributed to that. I do care about others genuinely.

I will miss my Uncle. Goodbye xo

Just get on with it

2009-08-27T10:06:00.000+10:00

My uncle died this morning aged 68; he had advanced Parkinson's disease with complications. I have related to him over the past five to ten years as he also suffered from depression; psychotic at times.
I last saw him in January, when he visited me in hospital. He siad his goodbyes to my Mum and her sister the night before last. He didn't request to see any nieces or nephews, but to say that he loved us.
I have a meeting with my psychologist in 50 minutes; then to grab some lunch and go to work, where we have - hurrah - a Team Meeting. I will try my best to concentrate.
There's no point making a drama of all this. My Mum is a bit of a mess, understandable.
He died peacefully. He was a good man.

Manic or not so? Rational thoughts (I hope).

2009-08-25T11:20:00.000+10:00

I woke again this morning at 6am. I was incredibly thirsty, and got up like I did yesterday, feeling a bit groggy (like yesterday). However unlike yesterday when I had 2 coffees and stayed up, today I had a glass of milk which quenched my thirst and went back to sleep for almost 3 hours. It occurred to me that yesterday I woke with a dry mouth too.

So....maybe I'm not so manic as I thought. I wouldn't have been able to sleep again if I had been. When I saw my doctor last Friday I complained of lethargy since being on the Abilify (10mg), along with being on a high dose of Zyprexa (20mg) and usual dose of Epilim (1500mg). His response was: inertia breeds lethargy, and that the more I 'give in' and avoid moving my body into exercise or motion that I perpetuate my feelings of tiredness. This irked me at the time (along with his continued inference that I need to lose weight), however it stuck in my head.

So despite feeling lethargic last weekend along with feeling nauseous, i made myself busy around the house. The past two mornings I also walked for half an hour. Having said that I have otherwise been kooked up inside my house, spending a lot of time on the internet and isolating a bit too much, allowing too many ruminating thoughts to run rampant in my head. It's easy to see how I've come to the conclusion that I am manic, lacking perspective from others and not having the funds to go out and 'do stuff' due to only working two afternoons a week at present.

On a positive front, I am back in touch regularly with my good AA friend, along with getting to know a couple of others bit by bit. I have missed her and we chatted on the phone this morning, which was a relief.

Off to work today....thank god I can get outta here and some respite immersed in doing stuff and earning my keep. Bye x

Speedy Gonzales has arrived...Manic!

2009-08-24T11:55:00.000+10:00

Signs of mania brewing;

I emailed one of my posts to a friend (cut & pasted) on Saturday; I always fervently email my opinions and 'brilliance' when going up;
I did not stop yesterday despite feeling queasy - did housework, gardening, walked, went to an AA meeting;
Woke at 6am today and have been on the go all day. Can't sit still. I usually drowse out of my slumber at around 9.45am and am very slow. Have not been slow today.
Started Abilify nearly 3 weeks ago - 10mg per morning
Denied being elevated to a friend - usually a fair sign that I am high
Rang my mother to alert her to the storm alert for the next 3 days and told her to put away her garden furniture as I have done with my stuff at my house lest they become missiles in the expected 100+km/hour winds expected
Have been doing a wee bit of overspending (not dire, but I didn't need what I bought, and my funds are much lower at present due to being on restricted work duites and hours post-hospitalisation)

So I called my doctor today; he's not @ the practice today, but they will notify him when he gets in tomorrow and he'll call me on my mobile when he can (I'm going to work tomorrow...that could be dodgy....I can only try my best).

It fucking sucks that anti-d's mostly cause me to spiral up into mania and become the unbearable chatterbox that has thus far alienated me from so many former friends. That and/or the combination of me doing my stunned mullet routine when socialising if I am paranoid (I stare at people's feet) or depressed (anxious and or/flat).

Fuck I hate being sick today! I fucking wish I could work and be NORMAL. Ok Ok....wrong word....totally subjective...yeh yeh I hear you. Ok then, I just wish that for today, I didn't have a chemical imbalance in my head requiring medication with side-effects, and furthermore that the imbalance wasn't misfiring as it appears to have thus far been doing for the past few days.

Enough rambling for now. My neck is sore. My hands are cold. I want to scream. Maybe I should! Ciao x

new day, off to an aa meeting

2009-08-23T10:20:00.000+10:00

Hope to catch up w/an AA friend I hadn't seen for over 3 years 'till last Sunday. It's really nice to see old familiar faces now and then. The best thing is knowing they're still sober, still ok, maybe kicking goals (or not...).

Just for today I don't need to drink to get through today. I notice a lot of sobriety blogs on this and other sites are fairly hardcore steps oriented and much mention of higher power etc and gratitude. I'm not quite like that at this stage. I just keep it simple; don't drink, keep in touch w/AA people; go to meetings; say the odd prayer; keep my mind where my hands are when stuck.

There's be a lot on the 12-step wagon who'd shake the finger at me for being willful and not doing things the AA way. There's reasons why I don't. I'll tell you next post.

Things are ok friend-wise in sobriety

2009-08-22T16:51:00.000+10:00

The last friend I mentioned last post and I have since talked; it's ok between us, but we simply don't chat as frequently, which I guess is good, since I found the co-dependant nature of our former friendship too much. That and I was briefly falling for her, and she not for me. So some distance is good.
I've made the effort to reach out to a couple of newer friends in the fellowship; went to one woman's "belly-button" (as opposed to sobriety) birthday last week; am catching up with another for coffee this week. All new-ish behavious for me in the past couple of years of being in AA in the area I live. It involves trust issues and feeling nervous around people what with re-learning social skills etc. Trying to be less selfish and hold a genuine interest in others with no self-gain. I learn these principles from AA, fo people who have been sober longer than me. I also learn how Not to behave from some other AA members, who can be erratic to say the least.

Despite this, AA remains my social point at present. However I am considering taking up some line dancing for fun and fitness. Yes really, Line Dancing. Even (maybe especially for) the Billy Rae Cyrus songs (they make me chuckle).

Am feeling a bit bit physically unwell (stomach bug) so will cut this short. Bye for now x

I miss my friend...

2009-08-20T12:05:00.000+10:00

Up to a fortnight ago I had a friend with whom I talked to and texted daily. When I became unwell about 6 weeks ago, the dynamics of our friendship changed; basically I was very manic and hyper-emotional and told her that I loved her. We stayed platonic friends, although I found, as I left hospital, reasons not to like her anymore. I can't explain it, I don't know why my head went in this direction. I do know that I found having an intensely close platonic relationship (daily phonecall of an hour and around 6 sms's) to be too intoxicating; I found it impossible not to feel more than a friend on this basis.
However my friend communicates with a number of her other friends this frequently. My other friends don't contact me this much...not by a longshot. It's more like a fortnightly phonecall of about 30minutes if that. So I wriggled out of our friendship.
I never said I didn't want to be friends anymore, but that I couldn't cope with the frequency of our contact. She said one or two observations of me that I disliked, and made a couple of judgement calls on my sobriety (I know her through AA). This really got under my skin. We last spoke when she rang me a fortnight ago. She hasn't called since, and what's more, I've avoided going to the AA meetings she attends because I don't (or am unwilling) to face her.

Hence I've been hermiting away on my days off, have joined blogger and have tried to keep busy. There, I've fessed up. While I do wish to meet like-minded people on the net, previously I haven't spent all that much time on it, maybe 20 minutes a day.

I miss my friend but she irritates me too, and yet I am also a bit afraid of her.

I'm one fucked-up emotional unit at the moment relationship-wise.

Jayzus Mary and Joesph..my tax return back within 7 days!! As ABBA said: Money Money Money....

2009-08-19T08:46:00.000+10:00

It would appear that by me doing my 2009 tax return online has been the way to go- it took less than a week for me to get a handsome $950. Mind you, my gross income was pretty low (around $17,000), hence the hefty return.

People can be really cagey talking about money; generally I find they are. I'm not because I don't feel like I've got anything to hide. Does that make me weird? I know I know....you gotta be careful on the net especially and not give clues like bank accounts, passords, personal details etc due to fraudsters.

Maybe this (the rip-off merchants) is why people clam up in conversation about money (I'm talking in person or over the phone - even to friends or family).
Or maybe it's fear of being judged; you're worth what you earn type of thing. Really I have no idea. I don't live for my work, I work so I can live. I just rock up, do my shift, mosey off when it's time to go. I don't do overtime. I don't think about work when I'm not there. I'm not paid enough to do this, I don't think.

I try to take pride in my quality of work, but equally try not to stress if I am not reaching the bar I set for myself for the day (not always successful with this due to being prone to anxiety).

I've had to accept that the career I was qualified for (Marketing) is somewhat out of my reach due to it being stressful which can exacerbate my psych illness, and also that there are virtually nil part time positions which offer satisfying tasks.

Maybe by having my career dreams derailed 15 years ago due to mental illness I've been taught a valuable lesson: becoming less materialistic and having my eyes opened as to how people cope living on not that much money.

One thing I have an abundance of is time; probably too much of it to be honest. I guess I'm just learning how to be productive with it and yet have enough energy to meet my obligations (eg: work, appointments, housework, AA meetings). Because yes, I could be less self-seeking and for instance do some charity work for a few hours a week. Maybe that's a goal to work for in the longer term when my energy levels get better.

I know over the past ten or so years I've received a lot of assistance; some from charity groups like The Salvation Army (eg: emergency housing; food parcels). It's time I gave back to those who have given to me at some stage soon.

Geting back to my first sentence: my tax return (I've decided I really like e-tax from the ATO...I find it easy enough, but my return is pretty uncomplicated due to no investments etc). I know where most of the money will go: to pay my annual rates bill which will be around $800. It means I don't have to worry about saving up for quarterly installments. The rest will go towards my October bill for car insurance, for which I am also saving; that's around $400.

I plan ahead for months for 'the biggies'- all my insurance, house and car bills. When you're on an income like mine you have to. I don't have any credit cards; only a visa debit. I don't buy anything on credit (there's so much of that sort of advertising "Buy Now! Pay no Interest till 2011!! It's a massive ripoff); if I want something substantial, I put it on Lay-By.

While it is possible to manage on part wage/part pension fairly comfortably, there are thing I can't afford, like holidays away, going to live performances, driving long distances to explore (petrol cost), dining out regularly etc. I can do any of these things once in a blue moon, but it requires hard saving. That's the down side of low income.

However, I am lucky to be in the black for my bills - that's only because I work part time. The pension alone is not enough to afford insurance, car maintenance, utilities etc., let alone luxuries. I used to consider buying myself a coffee a luxury when I was on the pension, luckily now I can afford it.

The internet is great too, even for technologically-challenged persons like myself. I will work out how to insert pictures and videos to my blog one day! I now, I know, I just need to read the Blogger istructions. I'm finding my comprehension is limited at present; I can splurge my thoughts but have difficulty reading other stuff...medication issues mostly.

Anyway, I'm relieved to get the tax return. Now when my rates bill comes I can pay it off and have no worries about that. Phew.

A bit of personal info for a change not relating to misfiring chemicals in the brain

2009-08-18T19:04:00.000+10:00

Worked again today, and yup I'm mega-tired. I only do 4 hours per afternoon, and even that is only Tuesdays and Thursdays at present...and still I am worn out! There's reasons for this- recovering still from my July hospitalisation; being on stronger meds; getting up earlier today for an appointment pre-work (one med I take causes me to sprout werewolf hair on my face..v. ugly requiring regular waxing)....I could go on.

I am aware I've prattled on ad infinitum about being schizoaffective so far in my blogs. It's boring. There's more to me than my diagnosis. Such as;

I have plans to renovate my house when more financial and do much of it myself
I have lived alone for the past 6 years (save one bad experience with a boarder) and have come to enjoy it
I have worked in retail, domestic housecleaning, market research interviewing, pamphlet delivery, waitressing and office administration
I've been in two loving relationships : one man, one woman
I spent much of my twenties being a drunken floozy around some not-so-well-intentioned men whilst trying in vain to display my strident 'heterosexuality'
I came from a conservative middle class background with a prim churchgoing Mum and a distant atheist heavy drinking and gambling Dad - they divorced when I was nine and both remarried
I enjoyed acting as a child and teen, but was discouraged from pursuing this by my parents since "that's what you do in your leisure time, not as a job"
I love my parents today despite feeling 'wronged' by them intensely for many years. I found that I had to draw the line somewhere between blame/forgiveness and just plain and simple growing up and accepting things
I find that during the weeks I don't buy a lotto ticket I usually feel more positive about my life and less escapist and "I'll be happy when...." type of thinking
I don't watch much TV, mostly the local news, although during winter I am glued to the football - my team Hawthorn isn't doing well this year :(
I am gradually learning the joys of gardening; it's somewhat spiritual. When I lived in my last place (a poky bedsit for four years), I used to listen to the lady next door sweep her driveway every weekend. I'd lie on my bed, and let the soothing brushing rhythm lull me into a sleep-like state; it was soothing. I am discovering that gardening is a good chance to get to know your neighbours too
My favourite 'good' food is watermelon; fave 'bad' food - too many to mention. Ok, I love McDonald's hot caramel sundaes. I'm guessing that's why I am overweight along with a reluctance to exercise regularly
I have a goal to become more positive in my outlook as I age. Life's too short to be a misery-bags. Sometimes I feel like I have little control in having a bleak disposition (endogenous depressive state),, and yet other times I feel like I can choose to react differently to some challenging situations
I attend around 3-4 AA meetings a week and have been sober 15months. I have been attempting to be sober since 2000, both within and outside of AA. The best I achieved was seeing a D & A counsellor (18months sober), but he one day said to me: "You know, I could see you drinking a champagne during Christmas in about 5 years time". I was obsessing about that drink for the next two weeks and was drunk again within 3 weeks. I know AA seems very radical to most people, but I have so far found it mostly to be successful for a lot of people, so I feel inspired to keep going
Lately I have been outdoing myself with daggines by cranking up MC Hammer's "Can't touch this" when I clean the house (discovered a dodgy cheap 90's mix). It's fun! I do draw the line at Vanilla Ice though. I press skip when he comes on. But boy do I vacuum hard to Tammy Wynette and the KLF!! :) All bound for mu-mu land!
My favourite actors is are the guy from Atonement (James McAvoy - British) and Janeanne Garofino (I'm sure I spelled that wrong): her turn in "Romy & Michelle" a few years back was great; I love her darkness
I really like John Safran, an Australian satirist. His series John Safran Vs God was priceless; I wish they'd publish the panel series with Father Bob from South Melbourne, that too was gold
I love the British comedy "Shameless"; Frank Gallagher and his family are achingly funny and tragic at the same time. Real black humour.

That's about it for now. I might read about some other people for a change. Distraction, not introspection - a positive move.

Ciao :)

Food for thought - The Anti-Psychiatry movement

2009-08-17T14:18:00.001+10:00

Having the day off work allows me to ruminate...one of my pet pastimes, not always productive, but anyhoo. I began searching wikipedia to try and understand other countries approach to treating mental health, and was not left too enlightened. Then I came across the following link;

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anti-psychiatry

and was rather gobsmacked at how people with mental illness have been (and still are) mistreated in most communities (and I'm talking about developed so-called 'enlightened' western cultures). I have a friend who is a public advocate for mentally ill people who have been hospitalised and she maintains that people in jails have more rights than patients in hospitals. For instance, she advocates for people who are denied the right to speak with their usual doctor, or who are put on medications against their will, or who are told they will have shock treatment etc.

I copied the following from the above link;

The pharmaceutical industry is one of the most profitable and powerful in existence, and as Joe Sharkey has argued, there are many financial and professional links between psychiatry, regulators, and pharmaceutical companies. Drug companies routinely fund much of the research conducted by psychiatrists, advertise medication in psychiatric journals and conferences, fund psychiatric and healthcare organizations and health promotion campaigns, and send representatives to lobby general physicians and politicians. Peter Breggin, Sharkey, and other investigators of the psycho-pharmaceutical industry maintain that many psychiatrists are members, shareholders or special advisors to pharmaceutical or associated regulatory organizations.[45] There is evidence that research findings and the prescribing of drugs are influenced as a result.

About 5 years ago I got political and took on a part time job being a consumer consultant, working in a public hospital and advising people in their of their rights; basically an advocacy role. I only lasted about 3 months; I found being with really unwell people frequently was unnerving to an extent and was a bit like holding the mirror up to my face. I also found it hypocritical that I was saying "You can dispute this, it's your right" to others, when here's me, the brown-nose who takes her meds as prescribed, keeps appointments with professionals, tries hard to stay sober etc. There was a big part of me which felt like saying to people "Don't you get it? You're mentally unwell! Take the goddamn meds, do as you're told and you'll get sane again!!" Of course I couldn't do that; it was totally counter to what my job required. So I quit.

There's definitely a place for consumer advocacy in mental health; where it becomes tricky is whether people who are afflicted with mental demons are able to trust and take advice to comply and take medication as is (hopefully) responsibly prescribed by a professional. If the above excerpt I cut and pasted from Wikipedia is really what's going on regarding pharmaceutical companies and psychiatrists (and the signs would appear that this is so), then even if a person is compliant with meds, the lack of concern over side-effects, the financial investment in psychiatry from the drug companies which dictate the direction a practitioner may go in (who knows what sort of kickback a medico might get if he/she writes say, 100 scripts a week for a certain product); it all appears to be as discompassionate an industry as something like dodgy insurance or bank loan companies - without any ethical base.

I understand I am being contradictory in this blog. I comply with taking meds, and here's me questioning the integrity of mental health professionals and pharmaceutical companies.

Here's the rub: try reading as much of the abovementioned wikipedia link as you can (it's long).

The part they mention about the artist Antonin Artaud and philosopher Michael Foucault; how they argued against being labelled mad and displayed brilliance through their artistic endeavours and/or intellectual arguments - all of this would resonate with me should I go off my meds. Fuck the job; fuck being sober; allow me and my bohemian brilliance to shine with my undulating mood and dazzling hallucinations.

Yes, my life might not end up this way (my family would rally most rigidly against allowing me to do this), but it's possible. Aside from writing I paint here and there - badly I might add, but it gives me self expression which I enjoy.

Is there any more or less merit for allowing my mind to course it's journey unfettered by pharmaceutical influence? That's debatable; one for the philosophy crew. Part of me wishes I could do this with gay abandon.

Then again, the price I may pay for being an eccentric self-expressionist would probably be more isolation (except for the internet and being paid a visit or 2 by the CATT team). My parents would be worried constantly. My sister would cut me away from her to protect her family. Or maybe not. I can't predict.

I'm not willing to try it out just at this point in my life. I'll put up with the meds for a while to come. Maybe till I'm 50 or 60. Who knows? I could yet become totally recalcitrant and disobey society's norms and live in a 'free' way. Hah!

Medications rundown - 1995-2009 - Compliance versus Side-effects

2009-08-17T11:33:00.000+10:00

From about 1992-1994 I would go back and forth to my GP (General Practitioner) and complain about chronic insomnia, anxiety and depression. No, walking daily didn't work; lavender oil baths didn't work; calming music didn't work, muscle clenching exercises didn't work. I would have seen him maybe a dozen times before he one day deadpanned me and said: "I think I need to refer you to a psychiatrist". Ok, I said.

End of 1994: My 1st psych diagnoses me with depression. Puts me on Prozac. I find myself screaming into my pillow at night with such agitation trying not to wake my housemates. All is not good.

1995: Start a new relationship. Have found Mr Wonderful. Feel so good I stop taking the Prozac.

Mid 1995: Relationship ends. I graduate from University. Secure first graduate job. Have my first major Manic and Psychotic episode. My psych diagnoses me as Bipolar. Puts me on Stellazine, Cogentin, Prothiaden and Epilim.

1996: House-sharing difficulties due to my erratic behaviour. Am at risk of homelessness. Psych puts me into a community for people with mental illness. I escape after 2 weeks when some guy tries to beat my bedroom door down and live in a hotel for 2 weeks. Psych prescibes Valium.

1997: Change Psychs due to loss of confidence because of traumatic experience in living conditions. New psych puts me on Risperdal, Epilim and Efexor.

1998: Begin drinking daily. Become depressed. Change Psychs again. New Psych puts me on Avanza instead of Efexor and tells me not to drink.

2000: Try cognitive behavioural therapy with Psych. Limited value. Still drinking.

2002: Have been sober 9 months. Psych believes I am over-medicated. Over the course of a year, he weans me off bothe the Epilim and the Risperdal, leaving me only on the Avanza.

End 2002-2003: Acutely Manic and Floridly psychotic. Involuntary Hosptalisation for 6 weeks. The worst experience of my life.

2003: New Psych puts me on Solian, Epilim and Avanza. Am going through post-psychotic depression. Begin getting drunk again, but not regularly, just sporadically.

2005: Drinking has escalated to daily. Mood very dark. Meds the same; levels altered here and there.

2008: New Psych has a strategy to help me deal with my intense PMS by altering my Avanza each month. In November, feeling so good on the higher dose I maintain the increased level. By December: Manic/Psychotic.

2009: In hospital for all of January. New Psych puts me on Zyprexa, Epilim and Zeldox. Have some agitation but am beginning(finally) to lose some weight through regular walking. Lose ten kilos within 3 months.

June 2009: Psych puts me on small dose of Lamictal. Slightly greater agitation.

July 2009: Relapse: Manic/Psychotic. Patch myself up with Largactil until get a bed in voluntary hospital. Psych takes me off Zeldox and Lamictal; increases my Zyprexa from 2.5mg to 20mg; increases my Epilim from 1000mg to 1500mg. My appetite goes through the roof. I put on 1 kilo.

August 2009: Still on same meds as July; Psych also adds 10mg of Abilify to assist with depression and anxiety which has emerged. Also gave me valium and temazapan as PRN's.

There may well have been a couple of other anti-depressants in the mix 10 or so years ago, but my memory is poor and patchy and I can't recall them at present.

I guess I have just put this record down to say that even when a person is Totally compliant with taking medication no matter how shitty it can make you feel; there is no guarantee that the doctor's estimation of what will work for you can sometimes be totally off the mark and end up with you becoming very unwell. Having said that, I do still hold faith in the medicos to a degree; I have little choice I believe. Because I know that in the years when I was unmedicated at all and was starting to show symptoms (aged 18-25), my life was pretty hellish and erratic. It wasn't all bad, don't get me wrong, and I would dearly love to live with no side-effects. I guess I just have to accept that my psych has the training, experience and insight as to how best medicate me on the lowest level possible without me getting unwell.

As I've mentioned in previous posts, I can help myself with my thoughts and mood by changing many of my behaviours. The challenge is to knuckle down and do them.

Each time I see my Psych he asks me the same few questions;

How are the meds going? Side-effects?
How is your sleep?
How is work?
How is your diet?
Have you been exercising?
How is your social life?
How has your mood been?

All this within a half hour consult; there's not much time to muck around and get all airy-fairy and go off on tangential anecdotes. If I need to talk more in depth about my emotions and thoughts, I discuss these with my clinical psychologist, who helps me with strategies. These are mostly cognitive behavioural oriented; often designed to challenge "Black and White thinking" and "Catastrophising" type of thinking errors.

However, to conclude, I have to say that getting the right balance of medication is very much a case of trial and error; what works for one person could spell disaster for another. There are always side-effects, which can be most unpleasant and incredibly debilitating. If I get a side-effect on any new drug, I call my psych and describe it if I consider it significant (having read the info sheet which comes with the meds). Sometimes he says: leave it a few more days and call me if it gets worse; mostly he says: drop it back to xyz amount and we'll review it when I see you next.

Side-effects can be significant enough to make many people refuse to take medication. In Australia, if this happens and a person is prone to frequently becoming unwell to the extent that they are acutely suicidal and/or homicidal; they are sectioned and put into a public psych hospital by the medicos and/or police (usually alerted by relatives). If they still don't comply with taking medication once they are discharged they are put on what's called a Depot, or a CTO (Community Treatment Order) where they are given an injection of anti-psychotics and other meds to keep them from hallucinating and hearing voices. Some people go and get their injection voluntarily; others are tracked down by the CATT (Crisis Assessment and Treatment Team) and are given the injection; sometimes with force. I know one guy who used to call the CATT "The Vampire Squad". He was usually quite unwell.

I hope as time passes the pharmaceutical companies can develop meds which have less and less side-effects. I know it would greatly enhance the quality of many peoples' lives, should they choose to take meds.

Schizoaffective - what I can be like when I am unwell

2009-08-16T15:41:00.000+10:00

I am mostly depressive and am able to function semi-ok in this state (eg: work, take care of myself for most of the time).

If I am stressed and on the wrong medication (and the medication bit has been a guessing game on my doctors' behalf - I take them as they tell me to), I can escalate into mania within a week, then both mania and psychosis within a fortnight.

The mania manifests as;

functioning on around 5 hours sleep
having stacks of energy
higher libido
desire to shop beyond my budget
irritability and being argumentative
denying that I'm manic to anyone who questions me
write copious amounts of 'revelations' which I excitedly email to people, convinced of my literary genius

The psychosis kicks in later and goes like;

people who are close to me (friends and family) are trying to hurt me
eg: a friend who is new-agey and into mystical stuff cast a spell on me
the fact that a red car passed me means I should stop what I was about to do
the radio and TV 'tell' me 'messages' as to how I should act
voices tell me what to do and are frightening and menacing
my parents molested me as a child then brainwashed me to forget
my parents are a part of an evil cult designed to kill angels like me
I have been placed on this earth by God to purify the demon-infested people
I am Jesus' sister.

I should add that when I am well, I consider myself spiritual, not christian; but when unwell become so terrified that I become convinced that I need the caring cloak of a christian God. Go figure.

I have no memory of being abused by anyone; I have been told by my doctor and by psych nurses in hospital that it is common when one is psychotic to have delusions of being grossly hurt when young and yet not be able to remember any detail. They did qualify this and say, yes, it's true there are a portion of people we see in hospital who really did get abused (either sexually, physically or mentally), but there is also a portion for whom that belief is symptomatic of being unwell and is in fact a delusion.

It depends upon how deep the mania and psychosis is as to how long I stay in hospital, and if I catch the symptoms in time I can be a voluntary admission to a private hospital (where you sign a contract saying you will not physically or verbally assault anyone). If I don't recognise that I am unwell and the psychosis is very deep (this happened only once, back in 2003), I attack people verbally and physically due to hallucinations and voices and have to be involuntarily escorted to a public hospital by ambulance or the police. Public hospital is a bit like what I imagine some jails to be like: every day a code grey (assault requiring seclusion); every few days a code black (assault with a deadly weapon requiring seclusion). There was not a day go by that I didn't fear being beaten up by another patient, let alone being sworn at and screamed at, having things stolen, the list goes on.

I am lucky I can just afford to pay the expensive private health cover that pays for me to go to the private hospital (it costs me $110 a month); the trauma of being in the public system is significant. Also, if I am sick enough to be an involuntary patient, it has taken me up to 12 months to recover completely after being discharged. I should add, that to be a candidate for either Public or Private, a person is usually teetering (or hurtling) towards being either homicidal or suicidal, and is deeply psychotic.

2009 hasn't been great for me mentally so far: I was in hospital for most of January, then had a brief relapse in early July when I had a week in hospital. Both were voluntary admissions to a private hospital. I have been gradually returning to work a couple of afternoons a week this time, as I get easily tired (common after having an episode). I am on a different combo of meds and they also tire me a bit, but I can push through the lethargy if I try - yesterday was an example of that.

I am gradually learning that there are many elements unrelated to medication that I can control to optimise my metal wellbeing, such as diet, exercise, vigilance in pill-taking and sleep hygeine. It's not all about the pills, or some 'magic' pill that makes me 'normal' (subjective word) and have no bad side-effects. I very much doubt that any such medication will be created in my lifetime. Even if it is, and someone like me takes the Said Magic-Pill, if I slob around on the couch eating Doritos and pancakes, drink and smoke and isolate, my quality of life will still be shite. No pill can magically fix anyone, I don't think. Certainly they can make a difference, but they are not the sole answer for people with mental illness.

Today I have yet to walk. I have yet to talk to anyone. I have only eaten a bowl of sugary cereal at 1.30pm and it is now 4.20. Compared to yesterday, I'm not doing so well. But I know I'm relatively sane today. I have no delusions of my writing ability, even though that's mainly what I've done today so far. I will go to an AA meeting tonight and chat to people I know. It's not all bad. I'm not unwell.

I really like the Matchbox Twenty song from a few years back called "Unwell". It came out when I was recovering from my Public Hospital stay in 2003; I was living in a womens' hostel for mentally ill people as my parents wouldn't let me live with them so I would have been homeless. The housekeeper used to chat to me as she was making the meals for the 30 or so women there and one day we were talking about music. She mentioned the Matchbox Twenty song and told me to listen to the lyrics, as she thought they really applied to me. At this stage I was still having lingering paranoia (I had been in hospital for 6 weeks) and wasn't convinced I'd ever have total sanity back; the world was pretty spooky to me. I was petrified of the other woman for the first month or two of being there. I felt doomed.

I was listening to my headset radio as I was walking to the drop-in centre (where psych patients sit around and drink coffee and smoke and do occupational therapy like painting mugs and jewellery making) and the song came on. I really liked this line;

'....I'm not crazy, I'm just a little unwell, I know right now you can't tell,

but someday soon you're gonna think of me...as how I used to be".

Hearing that made me have a glimmer of hope that the paranoia would decrease, and eventually it did after a couple more months. Then I got post-psychotic depression, which is truly crushing and black and really tough to trudge through. That lasted around 4months.

Then I got back to my 'normal' state which is to have a slightly depressed demeanor. That's where I think I am now, after my minor (compared to 2003) hospitalisation this July.

The main comfort I know today is that with the right treatment I don't have to be unwell forever, and for that I am grateful.

The distorted Lens has shaped my outlook somewhat

2009-08-16T14:42:00.000+10:00

I was undiagnosed with my Psych illness until I was 25 yaers old, back in 1995. I had symptoms prior to this (mostly insomnia and mood swings; predominantly depressive; one short psychosis at 19). Somehow I managed to study hard and get a bachelor degree in Business, all while living in a shared rental house with other young people and working part time and being financially independent.

After graduating, I got my first job with a market research company in the city. Prior to commencing, I had my first major manic/psychotic episode. I tried working while dosed up to the eyeballs on Stellazine, Cogentin, Epilim and Prothiaden. I got the sack after 2 months. I was a tearful, scattered and shattered mess at work, which was stressful.

I was unemployed for a couple of months, then resumed working part time for the food store I had worked casually in while putting myself through University. I did this for a couple of years, had some medication changes, moved house a few times and fell into a mostly depressive state. I felt like my life (the one I had imagined for myself whilst studying) was over. No graduate job for me, no privelleged perks financially, no settling down with a similarly affluent person in a 'nice' suburb. So this is where the self pity began. This is how I began to repel the few remaining friends I had.

I remember at the Food Store where I worked that we had an extensive range of jams and marmalades from around the world. One imported from England was a marmalade called "Bitter and Twisted". I used to chuckle about this. Later, I realised it to be an appropriate self-description.

When people you consider friends don't return the call you leave on their answering machine; when people are too busy to catch up for a drink or a coffee for the next fortnight; when people are 'just on their way out' nearly every time you call - it doesn't feel good. I realised I wasn't much joy to be around. I began to envy other peoples' lifestyles. By this stage (1998) I had began to give up on ringing old 'friends'. I was working in a supermaret deli part time and was on a part pension from the government. I was living in a share house with a couple of guys in a 'family' outer suburb which had no decent coffee shops or interesting places I could visit on my own to fill in time (the main highway had all sorts of Mega Warehouses designed for more affluent people, like Bunnings Hardware, Furniture Stores etc). This was where my loneliness, self-pity and anger became overwhelming.

I discovered that getting drunk daily helped me to escape my sorrow.

It began a whole new world of downward spiral which was to escalate out of control within 2 years.

By 2002, I had been in 3 rehabs and one detox; all for alcohol abuse. I was utterly unemployable.

Since my first rehab (2000) I have attempted many ways to either control or stop my drinking.

Each time, I am led back to AA as the most effective treatment.

I have made some friends in AA, but have been somewhat nomadic since 2000, and haven't got to know too many people intimately. My goal is for platonic friendships in AA; there is too much that could go wrong if partnered with a fellow alcoholic I believe.

Back to my original topic: being distorted and full of self pity; being like the jar of marmalade - I am gradually learning that I can care about others and be cared for; I get that through attending AA. I am learning that self-pity and resentment are like dynamite to a recovering alcoholic; highly dangerous to allow to fester and often a precursor for having a slip-up and picking up a drink.

I am nearly 40 years old. I am in a better space than I was ten years ago; miles better. As long as I stay sober I am able to work on self-improvement, particularly with things like self-discipline in relation to living skills which impact upon my schizoaffective traits. Granted, such behaviour is not perfect; it's often one step forward and one or two back, but I'm able to at least hold things together enough to function.

The best gift I have is that, unlike when I was drinking daily, when I put my head on the pillow, I don't wish that I would die in my sleep, only to wake with a hangover and severe depression and self-hatred and anger the next day.

I'd choose that gift any day really. It helps keep things in perspective. Which is valuable for a person like me who can sometimes turn the telescope the wrong way and look through a distorted lens upon life.

Mood goes up, mood goes down: a reality check

2009-08-16T14:12:00.000+10:00

What poppycock I wrote about last blog; ah yes I over-achieved. I outdid myself etc etc. I cheerleadered myself into a state of intoxication. Ok, so here's how my 'perfect' day ended;

Watched football till late, drinking pepsi max throughout
Took my meds at midnite
Tossed and turned till 4am
Slept in today till 1pm

Admittedly we had some wild weather last night: winds over 100km/hour and I have lots of big trees around my house, so none too pacifying. There were over 1000 calls in Victoria (the state I live in) to the State Emergency Service to get assistance with felled trees and roofs ripped off etc. However, getting back to my unhelpful nocturnal behaviour: this is how easily I can self-sabotage to not behave sensibly. The net result was the mega sleep in today which will make falling asleep tonight before midnite difficult.

Well I'm only human; I have to allow for 'blips' to happen. This is why I don't work full time: I can't manage myself to function normally (definition of normal is debatable) enough to eat, sleep and function adequately in order to cope with: up at 7am ready to work by 8.30, home by 6pm, fed nutritiously by 7pm, have some light entertainment or socialising till 9 or 10pm; asleep by 11pm ready to repeat it the next day.

I don't know how people do this routine!!!! I really don't. I know one of my fulltimer workmates spends every Saturday flaked out on the couch recovering from the week, and that Sunday is her 'doing' day. I really admire people who can slog it out, and am aware that people mostly do this day in day out from neccessity, not choice. Bills to pay, roof over the head, food on the table, clothes on the back.

I am lucky I can survive alone by just working 19 hours a week: my housing is affordable, I budget for bills and have a modest amount to allow for the odd indulgence (around $100 a fortnight). I don't earn much (less than $30,000 a year - that's low in Australia; the cost of living is higher than in America; for instance petrol costs around $1.25 a litre; the average 3 bedroom house costs around $500,000, and that's not in an affluent area ) but I can keep my head above water.

I guess I am not lucky because I am on a single income; more to the point I am not in a defacto relationship and have been alone most of my life. I have problems with intimacy. I even have problems keeping friends. There is something inherently anti-social about me, and yet I do often wish for company; to know and care for people unrelated to me.

To be continued......

A spiritually healthy day with mindfulness meditation

2009-08-15T16:56:00.000+10:00

Today's been great for me; a win mentally, physically and spiritually. It's rare I manage to do what I've done so far, and it's still only 5pm. So what were my Monumental efforts? Nothing out of this world. Just ordinary, pedestrian stuff. But I feel like I've won a lotto prize. Here's what I did;

Woke early and allowed myself to doze till 9.45am seeing as it was Saturday
Had a healthy breakfast and not too many coffees and cigs and took morning meds
Got ready and went to my usual Saturday AA meeting
Came home and had tinned soup for lunch
Went on a brisk 45 minute walk (it was a sunny day for a change)
Cleaned up around the garden and filled my Green Waste bin with garden rubbish
Took in 2 loads of washing from the line
Had the odd cigarette and water in between all of this

I don't mean to sound egotistical saying what I've managed to get done today, but when I manage to do like I have done so far today, it stands as a remarkably different lifestyle to what I have done in previous years. Left to my desires, I would do the following;

Not do any paid work and rely on handouts from family and not afford any insurance cover
Drink myself to oblivion each day
Smoke around 50 cigarettes
Keep my house inside and out as a pigsty
Eat only takeaway or microwave food
Not maintain personal hygeine
Be filled with self pity over having no friends
Hating people left right and centre
Singing along drunkenly to bad old sad old "They done me wrong" songs
Be constantly depressed to the point of being suicidal
Be in hospital for my meds failing to work much more often due to the mixing with alcohol
Stay up all night till around 4am and get up mid afternoon

This picture was me ten years ago. With much help from both paid professionals and family and friends my life is completely different today. I don't deny that to many I live still a somewhat hedonistic lifestyle as I am single and childless and can indulge myself to many self-centered activities. To some I may appear very spoiled and selfish, not having to care and provide for others. I don't even have a pet animal yet - that is too tough for me to handle (have tried this in the past 12 months and it coincided with me going to hospital for a month so I had to give the puppy back to the breeder). I find it difficult remembering to water my plants most weeks. I don't always remeber to make my bed. There are multiple areas for improvement.

Just for today however, I have done ok. I have kept myself occupied when alone and kept my mind where my hands are (so to speak). It's like an action meditation; becoming engrossed in sweeping the leaves and scooping them up; observing the different trees, plants and houses on my walk and not allowing chatter in my mind to ruminate in my head. This is my way of dealing with loneliness, along with phoning people I know (within reason...I have learned to allow gaps between calls as I understand others have busier lives than me and can't always spare time to chat as frequently as I might like to), and attending AA meetings regularly. I won't bang the AA tambourine today; I know that repels many people, and that is not the focus of my blog today.

All I'm saying I guess is that I like to note when I manage to get most of my 'responsible adult' side of me gelling in a day, as opposed to the willfull adolescent doing behaviours which self-sabotage my mental, physical and emotional well-being. Who knows whether I'll totally regress tomorrow and eat McDonalds or KFC, lie in bed till midday, trawl the internet about depression or schizoffective traits, fail to do any housework, or - god forbid - go to the bottleshop and buy a bottle of Johnnie Walker? I can't guarantee any of that won't happen.

But I don't have to think about that now. It's 5.25pm. I can watch Football for half an hour, heat up the casserole I made last night and have some veggies with it, take my evening meds, watch more football tonight and try not to have too much Pepsi Max; be in bed by 10.30 and hopefully asleep by 11pm.

I deal with today. Tomorrow I will deal with when it comes. And if I feel flat or off tap emotionally, I will deal with that as best I can, but I don't have to think about that until the moment arrives, if at all.

Grateful for today, as it has so far been. :)

Some days as a schizoaffective are easier than others

2009-08-13T20:06:00.000+10:00

I worked today. I work 5 afternoons a week in an office job using a database program. It's probably the best job I've ever had. Despite this, I don't really enjoy my work; it can be repetitive and doesn't really allow me to draw on my strengths. I have a business degree majoring in marketing, but I have never been able to work in that area due to it being stressful (can trigger my psych illness) and also the lack of part time graduate work available. I graduated when I was 25 and am now nearly 40. It has taken me all of 15 years to gain some stability and I still have a way to go yet. But I must count my blessings: I am employed; I receive a part pension from the government (for people unable to work more than 30 hours a week due to illness or injury); I have secure housing; I have a car, and today at least, I am well. So that is something.

However I slept poorly last night (not unusual); I am eating badly at present (craving fatty carbs); I have neglected my walking routine and am tending to isolate. These all come naturally to me, much to my detriment. I usually wake up that I'm feeling a bit depressive when I start trawling the internet for info on mental health issues.

It's a fight I must maintain: to push through the reluctance to get up out of bed by a reasonable hour; to eat fruit and vegetables and not McDonald's; to walk despite feeling fatigued; to make my bed even though it's only for me; to stop drinking caffeine by mid-afternoon (I have a savage penchant for Pepsi Max) and to take my meds on time. It's not always a battle but some days it seems like it.

I've had not such a great year in terms of mental health: I have been a voluntary patient in hospital twice this year: for all of January and for the first week in July. I'm gradually returning to my workplace (I am lucky my employer allows me to do so and has been supportive by giving me light duties as my concentration is shot). My Psych has tried me on Zyprexa, Epilim, Lamictal and Zeldox until July, when I had a relapse (manic and psychotic episode lasting 2-3 weeks). He now has me on waaaay more Zyprexa (20mg); more Epilim (1500mg) and has just introduced Abilify (10mg).

All this means that I have put on 1kg of the 10kg I had lost from the first 6 months of this year by eating junk food, thanks largely to the savage hunger I get from the Zyprexa and Epilim. I am still overweight (81kg) and am a potantial candidate for type 2 diabetes and heart problems and breast cancer (in the family and I smoke). I think my quack wants to reduce the Zyprexa over time and swap it with the Abilify. Anyway, I see him in just over a week, so we'll see.

I have tomorrow off work (am only doing two afternoons a week at present as I continue to get better from my episode). That means getting a bit responsible and doing stuff like housework and a walk and buying some healthy groceries and not crap. I know it's all part and parcel of being a mature adult" getting on with the dailies and not complaining, and thanking my stars for what I do have instead of feeling self-pity for what I contend with or have missing in life.

I'm tired. It's only 8.30pm but I won't be too far off bed tonight. I've taken my meds. I've eaten dinner. Granted, I am sipping on a Pepsi Max (whoops), but I'm not perfect. It's progess I seek, not perfection. Here's hoping for some better habits to emerge tomorrow. Ciao x

What books did you read as a child?

2009-08-12T17:31:00.000+10:00

It was only when I finally moved into my dream home that I finally collected all the stuff from my Mum's garage that I had no room for in my shared rentals previously. This included my books: all of them, including those I had read as a child.

I bought a sturdy bookcase and neatly piled my once much-cherished collection of Peanuts Books; a close second was the Alfred Hitchcock and the 3 Investigator series (unlike my sister who went for Enid Blyton and Nancy Drew). I also liked Garfield, but really it paled in comparison to Charles Schultz's creations.

My favourites were Linus (the sensitive philosopher) and Lucy (one kick-arse bitch), and, of course, Snoopy.

I have since re-read some of these mini-books: they are not laugh-out-loud type of humour. I don't slap my knee and howl with mirthful tears over any of it really. Just the odd wry smile, and even that's being over the top a bit.

When I was younger though, these books offered me an escape; our home life was not perfect (ok, so whose is) and reading Snoopy helped me create my own set of familiar faces. I find it ironic that Schulz originally named the comic "Lil' Friends" - that's exactly what they were for me.

I eventually grew out of Snoopy by high school, but am glad I kept most of my book collection. It's like Linus' security blanket to me in a sort of way.

Bye x