Am I Still Ill?

My Depressive Day

Hi there. Depression has properly bottomed out now and got about as bad as it gets. What does this mean for me? I wake up full of fear, dread and loathing at the thought of the day ahead. However, for me personally, there is absolutely no point in staying in bed. That will make matters far worse, as my brain will just go into overdrive while my body stays immobile. Maybe it’s because I’m a morning person.

Once up things improve a little. My brain is sluggish. I am bereft of ideas and inspiration. Right now I could do with some, as I need to put some structure and routine activity back into my life. I want the comfort of knowing I have done something productive with my day.

A well-meaning worker yesterday began talking to me about CBT. Do I interrogate my negative thoughts for evidence of their accuracy? No I sodding well don’t. I haven’t the energy. The tracks of depressive thinking are so well-worn. I am sceptical about the efficacy of these techniques for the kind of mood disorder that I have. Last time I tried CBT I was simply too depressed and distraught to engage with assignments and so on.

I can’t see colours. I could tell you what they are, but  my senses are so deadened I can’t enjoy their vibrancy as I normally do.

I’ve had a lot of anxiety piled on the depression of late. Especially concerning my son, as previously documented. Now I’ve calmed down a bit.

However on the plus side I have started reading books again. I even watched three TV programmes on the trot last night. A rare thing these days. One was a fantastic documentary about a Japanese couple by a British man, in the ‘Hidden Japan’ series on BBC4. They were a part of Japan’s new underclass of ‘working poor’. It came to light that for the many casualties of Japan’s uniquely conformist, all-encompassing and sometimes bullying working culture, there are very few services to support their psychological well-being. We are luckier in this country than we sometimes think. I was very absorbed by this programme, losing myself and my mental anguish for the duration of a few hours.

During my depressive days it is best to get out and engage in some reasonably low-level activity along with others, if possible. Yesterday, after meeting with my Care Coordinator in a local cafe I went to my DRA meeting in central London and went for coffee afterward with four others.

Then I attended a singing class in the evening at the day centre. I have pretty much never been to this before although it’s been running for years. It was actually rather good. The teacher is passionate about singing and music, and their therapeutic possibilities: she’s also a great singer, and she writes songs. We sang some uplifting standards, like ‘Lean On Me’, and ‘What A Wonderful World’ by Sam Cooke. That probably sounds cheesy as hell. But it wasn’t. I will definitely go back.

Evenings, and most especially, nights, are what I look forward to when I am depressed. My mood tends to lift. I am blessed with good, sound sleeping patterns and not being an insomniac. So I know I have the ‘little death’ to look forward to where I can dream of better things and just be oblivious for those few precious hours.

The new washing machine was delivered today and I have already put it through its paces. I go on retreat at the weekend at Pleshey, a small village near Chelmsford.

Lots of love, Zoe xxx

Busy Day

Not a bad day today. For one thing I was finally able to speak to my son’s social worker. I discussed the business of the blog, and my anxiety about my son, given that he has barely been in touch etc. Social worker was very nice. He said he would have a look at the blog with my son when he sees him next week. As this is all such a sensitive matter I had better not say any more about that. I asked for a meeting with the social worker following his meeting with my son, and he agreed to that. Just to find out how he was.

As paranoia is now stalking my every blogging step I might have to go back and do some more word searches to make sure there are no specific place names concerning contact with my son.

Anyway, back to today. I had quite a lot on, which is good. Had to go and buy a new washing machine in the morning. Mission accomplished. Got a Bosch and arranged to have it delivered next Tuesday. After that had arranged to help a friend of mine who has got herself into difficulties at the local day centre . She wanted me to attend a meeting with her that she would have otherwise found intimidating. It went OK. I spent an hour or so with her afterward discussing the outcome and other concerns she has about her life at the moment.

It was quite easy. It strikes me that maybe I could make a go of being an advocate, as I have a diplomatic nature and am good at relating well to both service users and staff. So I can be a good mediator. It’s definitely a thought.

I kind of wish there was some kind of professional qualification you could do as a service user to work with other service users. Proper training around mental health and working with vulnerable people etc. Maybe there is! I just haven’t managed to track it down yet.

Then I went to see friend A. But friend A has not been too good lately. She phones or texts me all hours of the day and night (not that I take all the calls) and then starts ranting about her parents or something. Also she’s been smoking cannabis. A big no-no for someone with her vulnerability. We got into a discussion about mental health issues today and she started to get really angry with me. I’m afraid a case of shoot the messenger, and also taking your anger out on the wrong person. Then she asked me to leave so I did. That was a little upsetting, but I wasn’t surprised. I could see the way things were going with the strange phone calls, and the last time I visited, when she was smoking weed.

Talking to people about their stuff, mental health issues, whatever, is endlessly fascinating to me though. I love trying to understand how people tick.

So I took myself off to Sainsbury’s for a therapeutic shop. I’m shopping and cooking quite beautifully now that I’m thoroughly grounded. No more packet noodles! Even made an apple crumble today.

Oh and yesterday the gynae check was reassuring. There is a small cyst which is probably a result of ovulation (so said the doc) on one of my ovaries, but the scan of my womb looked ‘pristine’…all pink and shiny.  So I need to go back in three months and have a trans-abdominal scan just to check whether the cyst is still there.

Tomorrow will try and write a letter to my son. Explaining the steps I have taken to make the blog more anonymous (and that I really didn’t expect him to be reading it!). Of course I don’t even know if it’s that that he objects to. I’ll mention it but otherwise talk about other topics.

Tomorrow I also have to attend a focus group of the Haringey User Network at the local library. Should see many friends, both old and new, there.

Cats miaow out a hearty hello to you all…much love and thanks for putting up with all my nonsense, Zoe xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Anxiety Through the Roof

Oh God. I have butterflies in my stomach, churning anxiety. It’s been building for weeks and now this business of my son and the blog has brought it to a head. It’s fed into all the shame and guilt that’s native to the depressive state.

If only he had explained to me before what was troubling him. I’ve righted the wrongs as far as I can by removing all mention of his name going right back to 2007, and also removing my email address, which contains my full name. But I’m still beating up on myself for not keeping strict anonymity before. How could I be so stupid, naive, negligent etc. I know it was a mistake, and just hope that I can forgive myself and be forgiven by him in time.

The absolute last thing I ever wanted was to hurt my boy in any way. When I started out, on Blogspot, I didn’t seem to have many readers, and few comments. I guess it lulled me into a false sense of security. I regarded the blog almost as a private diary, and a way of keeping track of my moods and how I was doing when I withdrew from psych meds.

It’s different now. I have far more sense of the blog as a public space. Hence I have been more careful about using his name and have been referring to him as J, but occasionally it did slip out. But I neglected to pay attention to the earlier entries. Not to speak of the times where I’ve been manic and hence more indiscreet about details of my life generally (though not especially concerning him). At the end of the day this blog has never been geared towards members of my family reading it, let alone my son.

I am also anxious about a hospital appointment I’ve got this afternoon. It’s a gynae check. Anxious about living. Equally anxious about dying.

I feel agonised and very depressed about things at the moment. Self-esteem in tatters. How many more times do I have to be stretched on the rack of manic depression. What, in the end, is the meaning of it? Meaning and significance looms so large in the ‘high’ phase. Then you come crashing back down and you search in vain for the point of anything.

Horrible.

Oh Dear.

Hi. It’s been a fairly good couple of days despite the low mood. Although I have been anxious about my son. I didn’t get a Mother’s Day card from him and though he phoned me on Sunday he was unwilling to talk and put the phone down on me after a few minutes.

This sent me into a bit of a tailspin and confirmed me in thinking he was angry with me about something, or just generally. I have been trying to contact his social worker for weeks now, and eventually found out he has been on leave for a fortnight. However, I had phoned him before that too and left a message on his ansaphone.

Yesterday I phoned the fostering agency, and though his link worker is also on leave this week, spoke to her colleague who kindly offered to phone his foster mum.

I phoned her back today and apparently my son is fine…except that he has apparently been upset by this blog!

I wasn’t even aware he had the blog address, still less that he had read it. I can’t remember giving him the address though I can’t swear to it.

It would be good to know exactly what he has read that’s upset him, or if it is just the idea that I have a (not very anonymous) blog that I sometimes mention him on (though not by name). Or is it that he is embarrassed by my public openness about my mental health problems. Or is it my all-too-frequent swearing! At the moment I can only guess.

I will have to trawl back through the entries and make sure I have not mentioned him by name. Obviously, if it is still a problem for him I can excise the bits about him completely. But he is such a big part of my life. Of course I don’t want to.

I also slightly dread going back through recent entries during my episode of mania and hospitalisation. I was happy to be very open at the time but going back over it now, in depression, is quite another matter. Depression heightens all the shame and guilt.

Well anyway, yesterday I had a nice sociable day (considering) going to DRA, having lunch together afterwards and then going for tea in Crouch End with my good friend A.

And today I attended a conference on social enterprises with A, who was giving a presentation on her firm. She was excellent, and people were queueing up to talk to her afterward. I didn’t feel able to contribute much as I am not yet working in the social firm but hope to start soon, or else find another one. However I learnt a lot about social enterprises today, and as I knew next to nothing before, it was a steep learning curve.

It’s a delicate matter, concerning my son and the blog. I need this blog as an outlet, and sometimes I want to be able to mention the fact that I am ‘a mother apart’. It is so much a part of who I am. In some ways I’m very touched that my son has even read the blog. But I can’t do anything to jeopardise our relationship. It’s a dilemma. I guess I really need to talk to him about it. Find out what it is that is bothering him.

Sigh! Take care folks. Love, Zoe xxx

Grounded

Been down in Kent with my Mum for the past two days. Will be going back later today. The weather this week has continued gorgeous. My mood has been OK. On the low side but stable and nicely grounded. We went to Canterbury yesterday, had lunch out and a mosey round the town.

Getting back to reading books. Watching a TV programme to the end (Andrew Marr on Darwin). Gave my Mum a bunch of red and yellow tulips and a nice card for Mother’s Day. We’ve been getting on very well and had some in-depth chats.

Merlin has been enjoying his stay here (Mum has a lovely garden, and he can roam around) but he was obviously very pleased to see me. I’ll be taking him back to London by train and bus, in his basket, a bit later. Planning to get to my art class at two this afternoon so will need to go soonish. Love, Zoe.

Engaging with the Day to Day

Hi peeps. The downswing finds me finally sorting out the household tasks. I paced myself over two days and it was satisfying to get the house clean at last. I really can’t stand living in a state of disorder.

My energy levels are more normal again as the aftermath of that virus has finally abated. I can tell because I was able to do the whole yoga practice at my class for the first time since I got ill. I have cancelled my gym membership because it was money down the drain but I can still go back as and when and pay as I go. I think this is a better solution for someone with my particular unpredictable health patterns.

I’m also back shopping, cooking and eating properly, although still have less interest in food than was normal for me. That however, is actually no bad thing! Long may it last! My weight is still on the high side of my normal, somewhat fluctuating, range. Be good to get back down to the low side again.

I visited the local user network yesterday for the first time and chatted to the two paid workers there about how I might get involved. They were extremely nice. I joined the network.

I might make an appointment to go to the local volunteer office and see what they have on their books now. I worked there myself for a couple of months which gave me a pretty good overview of what was available in Haringey. Some opportunities are a lot better than others: one has to be discriminating. Alternatively I might consider going further afield, for instance to central London. Just mulling things over at the moment.

I’m supposed to be going down to my Mum’s today. I left Merlin down there with her, as I was considering going away, but now I have decided not to so I guess I’d better bring him back. Have to say Amber seems quite happy to have him off the scene for a while. Bit of peace and quiet, and she’s got me all to herself again.

I managed to write the letter to my son J and send it off but have still not managed to talk to the social worker for an update on how he is. I have repeatedly phoned and left messages but he has not been back to me.

I’m mildly low. But it’s nothing terrible. Everything is relative in life. I’ve suffered so badly with depression in the past, I really do know just how bad it can be. And also, I can see it as a necessary part of the whole process. The hypomania dragged on for so long and I wasn’t engaging with mundane (or consensus!) reality.

I won’t pretend I don’t get frustrated, or feel defeated, at times. First thing in the morning when I wake I wonder how I’ll get through the day. But getting vertical and taking on one task at a time, pacing myself, soon lifts the mood. I watch the insecure and fearful thoughts pass through my head but I do know them for what they are. Part of the condition, and not a sign of my impending doom.

Take care peeps. Lots of love, Zoe xxx

Downward Swing

My mood has started to bottom out over the last few days. It isn’t pleasant and there’s a fair bit of fear and insecurity that I am in for a nasty depressive episode. Regardless of whether one materialises, I am certainly coming into land, and reality bites after floating along on a tide of hypomania for months. I’ve got to start addressing mundane exigencies (blimey, is that a word?) like housework, shopping, exercising properly and looking after my health (starting with kicking the fags!)

The problem of what to do for work is a worry. I am not inclined to return to my voluntary admin work at a mental health charity but exactly what I will do instead is uncertain.

My birthday was OK, but my mood militated against full-on enjoyment and I am noticing that I am finding it harder to talk. Today at the DRA meeting I really struggled to share. I regret the loss of the communicativeness and flow I enjoyed before. I hoped I would avoid slumping into the customary depression this time around because I noticed a lot of experiences that were new to me (such as the shedding of emotional baggage and the clearer sense of boundaries with others).

Now I am just not so sure. Depression really sucks but I guess I need to accept these feelings as part of the whole process. Not let it bounce me into the customary volley of self-accusations but just watch what happens with a sort of studious curiosity.  Bloody hard though.

On the positive side, I need to connect back with my routines as I said in the last post. I already feel quite a lot less scattered and more capable of focusing on what needs to be done and this downward swing is helping me do that.  Planning on getting to grips with the housework over the course of this week. As long as I can still hang on to some motivation and energy I’ll hopefully get through it.

Seeing three friends tomorrow, one after the other. One wants help with writing a letter. Just hope I can focus enough to be able to help her.

I also urgently need to write a letter to my son. It’s been ages since I last wrote one and I just had the wrong sort of energy before. I got a card from him today, a day late.

I still love. I’m still loved. Depressed or not. And I have to remember that the current experience is no more and no less valid than what I felt last week or a month ago. Depression is no more or less true than mania. It’s about integrating and accepting the whole picture.

Hope this makes some kind of sense. Take care peeps. Love, Zoe xxx

Process

Had another knackered attack late yesterday afternoon. Had to get a seriously early night. Slept well, with vivid dreams. Waking I still feel pretty exhausted. Tummy still not quite right. My appetite for food is affected. I only want bland things. Stuff like quick packet noodles. However I’m not actually nauseous anymore. Thank God. That was truly horrible.

I inveigled R into taking me down to see my Mum this weekend, as it’s my birthday tomorrow. We’re leaving around midday and coming back tomorrow evening. She lives in a village between Folkestone and Canterbury, near the Kent coast.

I feel I need to get away for a while. I mean, as in for a week or possibly two, to some kind of retreat centre. Maybe Samye Ling, a Tibetan Buddhist place near Lockerbie, Scotland. But I’m so chronically scattered at the moment that I’m finding it hard to decide, or focus long enough to make the booking and other arrangements. It’s times like this when frankly I feel I need a minder or a carer. Someone to just take over these practical duties until I arrive fully back on Planet Earth.

But alas I don’t have one. Except maybe if I can explain the situation to both my Mum and R they will come up with a reasonably simple solution, or help me out.

I can’t leave Cat Merlin for two weeks. He will have to go to my Mum, while Cat Amber is better off staying here as she doesn’t like being moved and doesn’t need so much feeding.

I am not getting to grips…at all! with housework, shopping, cooking and dealing with post etc. And it’s doing my head in to be living in my house while my routines lay in ruins around me. Seeing people, socialising and chatting on the other hand comes much easier. I’m outgoing as hell these days. Who saw that coming?

This is a period of adjustment. Changes are definitely occurring, that’s beyond doubt. And they are all positive. But nothing as important as this happens over night. It’s a process. And the dust hasn’t settled. I’ve simply got to give myself time and space.

Love peeps, Zoe xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Getting out and about again…

Hello dearest Peeps. What’s new and different? Well yesterday I staggered off to the doc’s. Wanted his opinion on my sickness of the last week (by God it was a trial) and put to him the possibility that it could be a toxic reaction or side effect of the Depakote that I’ve been on since I was admitted to hospital about two months ago. He thought it was more likely to be a stomach upset or virus, but he felt my tummy to see if my liver was tender (it wasn’t) and agreed to send me for a blood test.

After getting that done I traipsed off to yoga at the day centre. I couldn’t do most of it but lay there and soaked up the healing vibes which was comforting. Our teacher is such a special lady. She comes all the way from Hammersmith on the tube to teach a few loonies yoga and I honestly think she takes a genuine delight and pride in seeing our progress. She is also a most inspiring advertisement for yoga and meditation. In her fifties she has the face and body of a young girl, albeit a very fit, toned, strong and supple young girl! We’re very blessed with her, and I think we all know it!

After I came out of yoga I had an inspirational (sorry to repeat myself!) conversation with a friend I’ve known for years. I saw him depressed, struggling with grief over his parents’ death, and totally lacking in confidence. Now I see him growing into his potential, which one could always see. He dresses with style and pride in himself, holds his head high, is about to complete his B-Tech in Audio Engineering/Music Technology or whatever it’s called and is clearly destined for great things. Drinks herbal tea, eats carefully, came off fags over a year ago, and is OK with being single till he meets the right woman (despite his obvious attractiveness).

On my way out of the centre I got chatting to a couple of the staff. The deputy manager at the centre is one of us, literally and in her whole approach. I told them about my sense of progress with my illness. She was delighted to hear it and not in the least dismissive or disbelieving. She knows me very well and I think recognises how much potential I have to help others as well as myself. We are totally on the same side.

Prised myself away and went to meet my good friend J in a cafe for tea. I motormouthed to him a bit as is my wont right now, and he listened wonderfully well as is his. I had been stuck at home going stir-crazy with that awful virus for days remember! It did me so much good just getting out and talking to people, though I am always wary of and a bit apologetic about hogging the conversation.

Later on I met my dearest female friend A for a tea. I had felt we might be drifting apart a bit and was really quite worried about it last week. But she was lovely. I realised to my great relief that my friendship with her is a non-negotiable and not dependent on how much I see of her. She’s very busy right now, and pregnant to boot. But we are still, oh God, that phrase again, singing from the same hymn sheet! Why do I insist on inflicting that one on you folks? I could write quite a lot about this very special lady and her place in my life. But not right now. Besides her work and mine is very much in progress. And we are very different, but I believe we complement each other wonderfully well. She has a fantastic political head on her shoulders. I am the more creative, spiritual one.

We walked up to my house and Richard was already there. He’s already working with A which I am so pleased about actually. It’s helping to give him the connection and sense of purpose that he needs in his working life. Hope he doesn’t mind me presuming to say that. Bear in mind he is (to me) a mystery man, and that’s the way I like it.

A left shortly to walk home and R and I got chips and chow mein from the local chippy for our dinner as I could not face cooking. What an oil-fest…I was a little uneasy I would suffer for it later, but my stomach was forgiving on this occasion. I am definitely getting over the bug.

Still not over the sense of  ‘process’ which is causing me to be mentally scattered and not cope that well with the demands of everyday life such as housework and cooking. I have been thinking about trying to book myself into some kind of retreat centre out in the country for a week or two. Discussed the possibility with my Mum today.

It’s my birthday on Sunday and I have the desire to spend it with my Mum and Richard. He needs a little persuading but I think if I am resolute about it he will accede. After all, it’s my birthday! It will be the first time I see her since I got ill this time around.

OK dearest readers, that will do for now. Love you all…Zoe xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

I Am What I Am…

Hi again Peeps. Where have I been for the last four days? Sick as a dog mostly. Concluded in the end that I had gone down with something called the norovirus, which causes ‘winter vomiting illness’ or some such charming title. That completely wiped me out especially the last two days. Not completely over it yet but definitely better.

Managed to have a bath, wash my hair and make some bread this morning. Haven’t eaten anything yet though, and the bread somewhat overcooked as I was on the phone to a friend and forgot it.

When I was ill the worst part of it were the thoughts that went through my head. If only it would just shut down as my body wants to do at these times. But it won’t. And there’s nothing like a bout of physical illness to get you thinking negatively.

At one point yesterday I began to convince myself that R doesn’t really love me. I got on the phone to him crying. As usual he said all the wrong things but it was reassuring just to hear his voice and I began to laugh at myself and him.

Coffee and roll-ups. Not exactly the healthy lifestyle options so beloved of the Zoe I was not too long ago. But I’m still not through this particular dark night of the soul and just clinging to any small comforts that I can.

No wonder I had a bout of insecurity though. What I’ve been going through lately is one of the strangest periods of my life. Half the time I don’t know what to make of it. I had the sense that some real and wonderful change had occurred within me, but also the fear that it might all come to precisely zero. My own personal faith tells me that I need to accept the fear and insecurity along with the real and wonderful.

So what does this change amount to? Well, I noticed that I had let go of some long-held resentment toward and even hatred of, my dad. I had finally gained a truly adult, mature perspective on my childhood and life up to this point. This affected in turn how I felt toward my mother. I found myself wanting to actively seek out her company, and rejoicing in her as an individual.

I also noticed that for a long time after I came down from the mania I retained the outgoing quality I had then. I felt the joy of communicating and being with others and seemed to have lost the fear of having my boundaries breached, and the consequent need to hide away.

I had the sense that the lesson my manic depression has to teach me is that both these ‘poles’ are an equally valid part of who I am. The challenge is to integrate the outgoing, connecting, people-loving aspects of the mania into my everyday life. Not to retreat (out of fear) into the shy, reserved, withdrawn face of my depression.

There’s a place for solitude. I probably need a lot of it. But I also need a sense of connection. I cannot live without it. Need it like the air I breathe.

Making sense of this manic-depression thing is the passion that I live for. I believe (and you are all free to laugh if you think I am nuts or fooling myself!) that once I have that cracked (by no means an easy feat or a foregone conclusion) that an awful lot of other stuff will be clearer to me too. Including my vocation, that long-sought holy grail.

Actually, y’know what, I quite like the thought of y’all taking the piss or calling me a nutcase. Through all of this I know I have a passion for mental health. It is endlessly fascinating to me. There is so much more to all these highs and lows that we read about on the Madosphere, than a f****** chemical imbalance. I want to be a part of a movement for change. And that movement is called complete and total recovery.

Ps, ah I know my lovely readers wouldn’t do that! All I’m saying is, I don’t mind if you do. Because at the end of the day it’s true! I am a nutcase, a loony, crazy as a box of frogs, but so are loads of my favourite people in the whole wide world, and I just have no negative connotation with any of those (wonderfully creative) ways the world thinks up to describe us! Lots of love, Zoe xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Ain’t Coffee Great?

Black, no sugar. I swear to God, one small strong cup can sometimes perform a small miracle.

Other things I like. Nice neighbours with gorgeous babies who come round and make you smile.

Naughty cats called Merlin who bring mice in and play with them till they die. Correction, I only really like this when mentally a little deranged…love the cat, hate the behaviour. Though it’s probably his way of bringing me a present in return for the many plates of meaty chunks and the love I lavish on his distinguished acquiline head…

Leonard Cohen. My new best friend. How did I live till he came into my life? First we take Manhattan…then we take Berlin! It’s nothing less than a manic manifesto.

Which leads me nicely on to a new blog (to me) I just found called Daily Living in a Manic-Depressive World. The author has written his own manifesto comprising (I think) 15 points. He recommends it as cathartic. Given me an idea which might come to fruition or equally might get completely lost in the clouds of time and Zoe’s continual flux…

When at first I don’t succeed in the world of blogging I have a lamentable tendency to give up. This happened a few posts ago when WordPress swallowed two precious, carefully crafted paragraphs.

For the record, they referred to two women bloggers I rate particularly highly and who I count as mentors and role-models. These are Gianna  and SFJane . I will rave and gush about them some other day when I have the attention span required and am less up my own depressive arse.

Anyway, they are ‘something else I like’. I haven’t totally strayed from the point of the post. Which is basically to prove to myself that I can enjoy stuff even when, as I documented earlier today, I feel like crap. I especially liked the baby. Actually I think the baby (James) was what made me turn the corner. That and the coffee. I love cute babies and have a way of hypnotising them. Lots of love, Zoe.xxx

The Bends…

Ooer. I’m tired and I’m depressed. Last few days I’ve struggled to do the basics. I feel lost after this episode. With no idea where my life is going. But that’s all par for the course.

Curled up on the sofa, rolled in a blanket with a cat at my feet I don’t fight this. I have to roll with it. All I’ve got to do is survive and endure. It will pass. Maybe in a week. Maybe in a month. The problem is not so much that there is nothing I can do, but that there is nothing I want to do. Nothing that seems worth expending precious energy over. That time is not now. It will come again just as sure as the flowers start to poke their heads out of the ground around now…

Not this flower though. It’s been through the manic mill again. Those big dreams that seem so much more beautiful than anything so-called reality holds. Consensus reality. And we all know about consensus, don’t we? We all know the worth and the worthlessness of consensus. Because there is something so much greater within us all that is not and never can be a part of it.

Even depressed I still believe in this. This is my destiny, my goal, what I live for. The meaning of all music, all poetry. The core of all religion and all madness. The transcendent. What makes a human life both so rare and so special. The root of laughter and comedy. The seed of friendship and lasting love. Everything that distinguishes us from the animals.

And depression, for some reason possibly unknown, is a part of this. A necessary part. Bring it on then. I accept it. I don’t fight it. Have no energy for that in any case.

For the time being, my life is reduced to these four walls, a window onto the sky, Leonard Cohen and the cat. Oh, and this blog. Just to tell you where I’m at. If nothing else these long years of manic depression have taught me to continually readjust the boundaries of my life. I don’t hate myself for going through this. Why should I? It’s way way beyond my control. Beyond the ability of any pill to control.

Part of the mystery that gives all our lives whatever meaning and beauty they have. I don’t want to swap with someone else, even if that were a remote possibility. I’m who and what I am. That’s OK. OK with my friends, OK with my partner and OK with me. Finally.

Love…Zoe.

A Rollicking Good Time…

Hi folks. Whappen in Zoe-land? Had a good two days. Yesterday spent chilling with a very willing partner. What could be better than that. Hardly set foot out of the house. The weather wasn’t too prepossessing. We listened to music. He tinkled the guitar. I made bread, and leek and potato soup (maybe inspired by St David’s Day?) Plenty of nookie. What do you mean, T.M.I? A woman has needs, and he’s a passionate man who likes to get it when he can…

Today by contrast I was rested and raring to go. Plus it was lovely, sunny and mild. Weather calculated to make those poor office workers curse their bondage.

Toddled happily off to my DRA meeting. It was packed. Excellent meeting. When I share I motormouth. It’s the only way to say enough in four minutes. I still feel I have to leave loads out. I’m so full of myself…

After the meeting six of us went for coffee in Costa Coffee’s basement. It was cool seeing a performance poet and musician friend who has finally received the diagnosis of bipolar after years of suffering untreated, unsupported and with none of the benefits that accrue to the Loony Class. We nattered about the celebrities we love to hate, the joys of Radio Four, stuff like that.

After we went our separate ways I made a bee-line for the HMV store in Oxford Street. I buzzed around the special offers (two CDs for £10, wow!), Radiohead, Coldplay and even deviated as far as Leonard Cohen and Joy Division. Scooped up a haul of eight CDs which I thought were a bargain at only £70. I justified this profligacy by the fact that I haven’t bought a CD for absolutely ages. My collection had gone stale on me, the way one’s wardrobe does.

Then I had to hi-tail it back to Turnpike Lane where I had a teatime date with my young friend A at her flat. The mysterious A. We spend a fair bit of our time sitting in silence, though this time in her living room with her music on. Babyshambles and some other unknown stuff that you young people seem to like. I started to get uncomfortably cold. When she finally gave me the ‘sign’ to go (I never know quite when this is going to be) she gave me a massive hug. That was nice.

By this time I was like ‘food, food, food’ but it was too late to contemplate cooking at home. I happened across a little Balti takeaway in her neck of the woods. Scanned the menu, they did vegetable thalis for only £8.50. That’s enough food for two meals if you stow the leftovers in the fridge so I went for it.

After I had my food I phoned R for our customary evening de-briefing session. Then my old friend and ex-lover S who is really ill with yet another virus and needs me to go pick up a prescription for him tomorrow. He kept me on the phone for the best part of an hour. We were out of touch with each other for so long after we had a big bust-up that now we have a lot to catch up on. And I can say it’s really a delight to have him back in my life again. I’m just a bit sad he’s in such bad physical shape.

Then I had my new CD’s to make friends with. You know how it is with new CD’s. They take a few listens. But this Radiohead Rainbows is growing on me already, as I pretty much knew it would. Such a lovely little cardboard sleeve it comes in. Thom Yorke is a keen Friend of the Earth apparently. R saw him there once. It’s like Christmas has come early over here at Zoe Towers.

Two great days. Lucky old me. Lots of love Peeps… Zoe xxxxxxxx