My thoughts on being in a "good" (for any given value of good) place for a while.

For those of you who don't have a lot of interaction with real depression and Bi-polar, by that, I mean the sort that isn't cured by a 4 day stop in the Priory, times like this when, even though I am in excruciating pain because of my ankle, I know I am actually in a fairly good place mentally. This occasional blog was started in the hope that I could make a regular effort to write a little about how I as coping as and when I felt up to it. It looks like December was the last time...But its been an interesting 7 months

I consider myself lucky. I am a fairly intelligent bloke with an above average grasp of my illness. This has been helped in part by reading about it, doing a short stint at CBT, and finally, taking the S.T.E.P.S. course offered by LJWB,(http://www.ljwb.co.uk/) and I'm sure that you could find someone running this course along with the Pacific Institute near you as well.

I'm no expert on mental illness, nor would I ever claim to be. I am a sufferer, not a mental health worker, a job that takes the patience of a saint and the understanding of Job (apologies for the religious references, but its so difficult not to use them, even for an atheist like me. Its a sign of lazy writing). I know how awful I can be when the black dog is on my shoulder, and I feel like jumping under a bus rather than getting on it or packing a bag and heading to live on the streets somewhere and its actually harder to stay with my family and see how unhappy I make them when I am down that to leg it or top myself.

Every time I start to feel on a real downer, I try to find things to do to keep me busy and that take my mind away from the banality of day to day. This could be writing jokes, articles or just reading a new book by someone I have never heard of before. Knowing that the black period can last from a few days to over a week, and the alternate "high" is only ever two to three days, seems a little unfair, but, after over a year on loads of different pills to try & become stable, I made the decision to stop taking all of them.

Overnight.

I didn't tell anyone for a couple of weeks, which was REALLY stupid of me, but after chatting to my shrink & mental health worker, I put in place a set of systems, letting those who really needed to know,know.

By using the strategies I gleaned from my STEPS course and also from the short amount of CBT, I am now better able to tell when each phase of the illness is around the corner and able to make sure I don't get as low as I have in the past.

I am lucky in so far as most of those I work with on a regular basis are well aware of my illness and also aware that this can affect my output. There are, however some who know how good the work is, but just put up with the irregular hours I have to keep and yet still moan like hell if it arrives on the deadline as asked. No matter how you tell some people, they are just to ignorant or unwilling to understand that illness affects everyone differently, especially mental illness

I do find myself on occasion sat here at 2.30am with a blank page in front of me and then in just over an hour have 5 filled ones that need editing & spell checking and referencing and a bibliography.

And that's the point.

I can produce work to a standard I never thought possible just three years ago, but I have to do it when I am able to. It annoys the hell out of me that I cant just write all day, every day. A few days ago I produced two full hours of air time in about eight hours of writing (allowing for editing, fact checking, re writes etc). It might look like 9 pages of A4 to you, but to me it was a monumental effort that left me unable to work for the rest of the week.

I try to keep my down periods hidden from all but my closest friends & family. There are times we're invited places and I just have to force myself to leave the house, just to appear "normal". In reality, I should just say no, and let others get on with it, but I feel selfish saying to my Wife, that I'm not going. I have days where I don't get out of bed before 11am, not because I am lazy, but because I really feel so low, I cant see the point of getting out as I wont be able to do anything productive.

The lows have been that bad that there have actually been at least 5 different attempts to kill myself that I would class as "real" attempts over the years, stretching back to my being about 15.

I often wonder how different it might have been if I had been diagnosed years ago, but that's pointless. I do have a great life, its just that there are times when I hate myself and it. I have fantastic friends ad a wonderful (at times) family who all support me & care about my welfare.

At the end of the day, that's all anyone with mental health issues needs.

Love & support...

I have to work very hard to keep myself from going over the edge. I only manage that with the help and support of my Wife, Friends & family.

My remark at the top of the piece about not being cured by a 4 day stay in the Priory, was not a dig at those who feel they need help for what they feel is depression, but an observation that if a 4 day "cure" for Bi-Polar was available & worked, I would sell all I had to take it. I'm sure that the Priory provides a first class service to those who can afford it.