ommmm....

The Mindfulness Based Stress Reduction class started last night. 50 of us attended an info session for it in November, and there were only 4 places available for January's class. Guess who got a place? Moi. It seems that the universe is watching out for me.

One of our intro exercises was to sit quietly with our eyes closed and think about why we wanted to take this class, and what we hoped to learn. My answer was very simple and came to me right away -- I want to live. I am taking this class because I don't want to die. I am so desperate to learn how to survive depression, how to survive these extreme mood swings that are my experience of being bipolar.

When the facilitator announced we'd go round and share what our reasons were I panicked. It felt too personal to share with such a large group (there are 30 in the class). When it came to me I said that I wanted to learn how to live more fully, which I guess is in the same ballpark, but not as honest.

hello up there

i'm finding that the hardest thing about having a mental illness is that i cannot always trust my own thoughts. this is totally frustrating for me as i count on being a quick thinker.

what usually happens is this - i find myself thinking something out there. something like "it is inevitable that most people with bipolar will die by suicide." that's my future, i think, what a relief to have figured this out. instead of recognizing this as some kind of crazy thinking, i think "wow, i wonder why i didn't think of that before?" each crazy thought is brand new to me, and i never think to question them because, of course, this thought has to be correct 'cos there it is in my head, right?

i'm so happy i tell the doctor my latest insight and she says that not only am i wrong in thinking this (some bipolar people will attempt, for many it is a very treatable condition) but also it might be too soon to reduce one of my medications.

to her, these kinds of thoughts are the result of a chemical imbalance. to me, they are sudden brainwaves!

Updates

Squirrel Update: they are getting very fat. tails particularly bushy.

Moving Update: two boxes missing in shipment from Ireland. since i failed to label any boxes or take an inventory, i have no idea exactly what is missing. have not found elderly bear (had him since i was 2 - 40 years is old for a bear!!!) and two boxes of prints. i will never ship negatives again, as i spent a sleepless night worried that the missing boxes were negatives.

Music Update: have been hanging out at the gladstone hotel - last night was a guy from newfoundland, now living in africa. he advertises an 'afro-celtic' sound, it was more singer-songwriter to me but he was an excellent musician and i had a good time

Bipolar Update: read a great book on being bipolar - called "Madness: A Bipolar Life" by Marya Hornbacher. in fact, i read it twice. she has a different kind of bipolar (rapid cycling) but it is beautifully written and very, very moving. head to your library and get this book, now!

goldfish update

it's hard to know what to write. august felt like a train wreck. it was a slow-motion, i know what's happening but haven't a clue on how to stop it, train wreck. i knew i needed help but i couldn't seem to find it. the camh referral was 10 weeks away. the therapist my doctor recommended wouldn't take me without health insurance. all the shrinks i called weren't taking new patients, and couldn't recommend anyone who *was* taking new patients. what do i do? i asked my doctor. where do i go? just go to the ER, he said, they will know what to do.

and you know what? he was right. i showed up at the ER, alone, frightened and desperate. i was admitted for a few days in order to get me safely through the worst of my crisis and even in the short-stay psych unit there is an attitude of patient empowerment. i was pretty impressed, and although i didn't know the answer, the staff were always asking "what can we do to help you get better?"

for now i have stopped fighting my diagnosis - bipolar - although it seems strange to be diagnosed at 42. mind you, i saw a psychiatrist in my second year of university (18 years old) and he also told me i was manic-depressive but once again i thought i knew better. how different things might have been if i had dealt with it then.