Day two – Sprinkling of sadness despite slip on shoes
Despite having a lovely day with my brother and sister I am very aware that the beginnings of another depression are creeping up on me. As always I find myself trying to work out why it has come back. I am a dreadful scientist and although the Docs have told me time and time again that it has as much to do with a ‘chemical reaction in my brain due to a biological malfunction’ or some such thing I still look outward for the cause.
Perhaps I have been having too much fun of late, or maybe it is this cold that I can’t shake or the fact that I feel rather under pressure. I don’t know what it is but I find myself tearful and full of self loathing. My figure feels too full and my eyes too prone to water and generally it just kind of sucks.
I am trying to subscribe to the American way of being and think positive but it is hard and I am scared. My last high which started in October was pretty severe and according to my medical history and the famous law of what goes up must come down I cannot help but worry that this next low will be colossal.
The reason I acknowledge it here and now is that I do not want people to get the wrong idea about the nature of my illness. For those of you who are new to the blog I must admit that the lows can be quite significant and at times crippling to everything I do including friendships, work and life generally.
I am doing as far as I can see everything right. I am taking my tablets, getting plenty of sleep and seeing friends and family as often as I can. As well as having a new project to put my energy into I have even taken to eating healthily and having herbal teas, health supplements and warm baths. My only remaining vice, well more or less, is my temporary nicotine addiction and that will pass as it always does.
Fingers crossed I am just worrying without cause and tomorrow will be a brighter day. The shoes have helped in that those I have been wearing for the main part of the day are bright but comfortable without resorting to sweaty Ugg inspired slippers. I spent the most part of the day with my big sis who bought me them and according to her partner they were seen a few months ago on Dragons Den. Wearing them made a walk to the shops a hell of a lot easier but the outfit demanded heels and so they came out to play too although in the mood I’m in today the lower of the two seemed more appropriate.
Look out tomorrow for pictures of the pairs.
Day 92 – Hats and hosiery
As most of you will be aware, all money raised from 365 Dresses: The Mind Project will go towards mental health charity group Mind. The reason I chose Mind is because as well as raising money for its helplines Mind campaigns to create a society which “promotes and protects good mental health for all – a society where people with experience of mental distress are treated fairly, positively and with respect.” Mind are a national charity who operate locally; the group I went to the other day were affiliated with Mind but are relatively independent to act in the way they feel is most suitable for the Market Harborough area.
The objective of Mind which most appeals to me is their work to change attitudes towards people with mental health issues. This issue is always at the forefront of my mind because all too often people I know who have been having head troubles hit an even harder wall when they try to talk to friends or family about their condition. For example, though I am sure many of you will have your own horror stories about similar attitudes, I remember talking to a friend about prejudices towards mental health and the amount of misinformation out there when she gingerly admitted to me that her boyfriends attitude to people with depression is , “well they just need to cheer up, don’t they?”
It is an unfortunate but important fact to bear in mind that one in four people are likely to experience a mental health problem, every year. This means that in the harshest possible way it could be you and it is charities like Mind who work to ensure that should you ever become ill there are groups and systems in place to stop you falling down too far, to catch you before things get too bad. In my opinion one of the most important things this charity does is it attempts to ensure that if you do try to talk to friends, colleagues or family about your troubles you will not be met by prejudiced and insensitive attitudes.
If you go on any mental health blog, not mine for some reason, you will usually find one idiot in a chat room telling people to get off their backside and fix themselves. Tom Cruise, an influential actor regardless of his petite form once thought it was advisable to tell people on a national television show that mental health medication was somehow unnecessary. Don’t get me wrong I loved Top Gun but I have never watched another one of his movies ever since and should I ever have the displeasure to meet him I might very likely use the only thing we have in common, our height, to present him with the sort of right hook I generally reserve for would be rapists and muggers.
The objective on the Mind website which impresses me most because it challenges such attitudes is this – “People who experience mental distress are always at the very heart of our work. We listen and make sure their voices are heard by those who influence change. We demand higher standards in mental health care and challenge discrimination wherever it occurs.”
The reason I am being a bit more militant than usual is because I am feeling a little frustrated. I like to think that in some small way this blog might play a part in helping change at least one persons attitude towards people with mental health issues. Even if it just means people realise having a mental health condition does not necessarily prevent people from work, play or having fairly normal lives. Today though I came across a government survey re-tweeted by Mind that reminded me of just how much work there is still to do to challenge peoples attitudes towards mental health.
The Department of Health’s annual survey of attitudes towards mental health has revealed some frankly archaic threads of thought that still exist in our society today. I do not generally like to make people reading the blog feel uncomfortable but please give these figures some thought. Is this something you believe, if so why. I really want to encourage a bit of feedback and debate on this because as annoying as attitudes like these are, they do exist and if they only ever get aired in situations where they go unchallenged how can they ever be changed or challenged.
- 16 per cent of people believe only 1 in 100 people are affected by mental health problems every year.
- 26 per cent of those surveyed believe ex-inpatients can be trusted as babysitters.
- Agreement with statements like “we need to adopt a more tolerant attitude towards people with mental health” has fallen.
- 18 per cent of people believe that having mental health facilities in the area downgrades the neighbourhood.
- 20 per cent feel that anyone with a history of mental health problems should be excluded from taking public office. FYI if this little gem was in place sixty years ago Churchill would not have been and call me crazy but given the choice of Boris Johnson or Stephen Fry I know where I would be making my cross come the general election.
- 24 per cent of people believe there is sufficient existing services for people with mental health.
It is not all negative news however there has been some positive changes since the last survey was carried out in 2009 . For example 75 per cent of people now believe that those with mental health problems should have the same right to a job as anyone else. There were also several indications that people generally are becoming more accepting of those with mental illness and more understanding about its causes and triggers with many people now being aware that many conditions are entirely treatable. I am aware that a lot of this makes for uncomfortable reading, but even if it just gives you something to ask your partner about at the dinner table, makes you consider an attitude of your own you didn’t even know you had or even just makes you laugh about Tom Cruise being a total eejot it will have been worthwhile.
- Today’s dress is from French Connection, another donation by Hannah Cantrell in-fact. the tights which are wonderful and thankfully free of holes are from Red Herring, Debenhams, £3 in the sale and the beret and wedding hat I have had for so long I honestly can’t remember where they are from. Apologies for the photos I have been on my loan-some.
Day 65 – Long black top becomes little black dress
Sometimes I can be a total eejot. On Thursday before I headed up to Manchester I had a choice to make which would have a direct impact on my health. For months now I have been having somewhat heated disputes with some of the lovely ladies at Harborough Medical Centre. 
Many of them seem to struggle with the idea that when one is on a weekly repeat prescription the prescription will be repeated every week. Time after time I have gone down to collect the little green slip to be told that it hasn’t been processed. When I ask why the usual response they give is that they didn’t process it as it had already been done the week before. The whole thing exasperates me as if I miss even a day’s tablet it can leave me in a bit of a pickle. The tablets have a very short life cycle so to go a day without them is dangerous because you can be visited by rather unpleasant side effects which can include nausea, insomnia, increased irritability and of course my personal favourite suicidal thoughts.
It is because I am afraid of these side effects ever returning that I try to make sure I keep on top of my prescriptions. When I discovered earlier this week then that my consultant had forgotten to write me up a prescription for the changes she had made to my tablets I quickly got on the phone to try to ensure it was sorted out before I had to travel up North the next day. Once again the receptionist assured me they could get it ready for the next day provided I rang through to my consultants office to ask them to send the instruction over by fax. After all this faffing about the next day when I called up the surgery to be told the prescription had not been processed I lost it just a little bit especially when she informed me in the most patronising voice possible that she would do what she could but it couldn’t be hurried and after all “haven’t we had this problem before.” Luckily I managed to bite down on my lip before I came out and told her that of course we have had this problem before because you are seemingly incapable of following basic instructions and choose to either lose my prescription or just ignore it as though it were a particularly unpleasant coloured post it note. 
After nearly drawing blood whilst praying for patience I asked if she might possibly be able to tell me when my medication which I depended on for clarity of thought might be ready. As the answer was as vague as I had come to expect we did not part on the best of terms and after deciding that I was not prepared to put my life on hold every week whilst waiting for a green slip I set off in a tiny temper to Leicester and it wasn’t until today that I remembered I hadn’t taken an anti-depressant for two days and had even missed my mood stabiliser the night before. 
I feel particularly idiotic because it is only a few days ago now that I was lecturing a friend who came off her anti depressant without first consulting with her doctor. After booking her two appointments, one with the doctor and one with the hairdresser; she had been so low since she came off them that she couldn’t be bothered to wash her hair; I tried to find out why it was she had gone cold turkey all of a sudden. It turned out that the tablets the doctor had put her on had left her feeling disconnected and as she had been prescribed them by a doctor who was not her own GP she had not felt confident enough to ask him about side effects. I felt so angry because I have been prescribed similar pills in the past without being given any details about probable side effects and when one’s head starts to feel as though it is lined with cotton wool it can be a fairly frightening experience. 
After she went to the doctors and saw her GP they both decided together that counselling rather than citalopram is the answer. What is annoying about this scenario is that had the doctor in question advised she spoke first to her own personal GP she could have avoided four weeks of fuzzy headedness and the inevitable low which occurs when one comes off of anti depressants suddenly. Talking of which…
I am annoyed at myself for not sorting things out sooner and for not going to the drop in clinic yesterday before the side effects of stopping got going. When I saw my consultant on Monday she decided that in spite of the icky side effects I have experienced with increased tiredness and sickness she still wanted us to increase the dosage to its optimum level; because of this when I came off the stabiliser suddenly as I did yesterday I am left dizzy and feeling as sick as a dog. I manage to pull myself together enough to admit to the boy that I have neglected to keep on top of my tablets and he kindly agrees to come into town with me to act as a buffer against the Saturday traffic. Unfortunately with my heightened sense of smell I notice every unpleasantness in town, be it the smell of sweaty Ugg clad feet or the second-hand smoke which seems to be spat out of every second person we pass. 
In the end I have to clutch my hand to my mouth and run through the Arndale to the safety of the clinic where a sterile room free of odour awaits. The doctor kindly sorts me out enough drugs for the weekend but I am still sick and end up chewing down a pack of anti nausea tablets to keep my gag reflexes at bay.
I am always thankful that we are blessed in our country with the NHS but there are so many silly rules and regulations for the staff to follow that I often think there is little time left for them to treat the patient.
My friend was prescribed her medication in a consultation which lasted less than five minutes, all she needs is someone to talk to and yet there is such a massive waiting list for counselling that she has been advised to seek the services of a free provider or to pay for it herself privately. The underfunding of the mental health services is crazy when one considers that mental illness costs the government a fortune in benefits and statutory sick payments. Surely if more was spent on it in the first place many people would never have to take as much time away from work and may not even need to be treated for such extended periods of time. If doctors had more time to give to their patients or if there were more trained counsellors employed by the NHS I am sure that a lot of people would not even have to turn to tablets as a quick fix. Tablets can help but they are only ever a temporary solution, if the GP neglects to find out the cause of the suffering it may never get solved and as soon as the tablets are gone the black dog will rear its ugly head once again. Saying that if you neglect to take them or come off them unexpectedly you will get a rocky ride so it is best to discuss it with your doctor first. Throwing up and falling over on a Saturday night may be acceptable behaviour in someone who has been on a bender but when you have been free of alcohol for weeks and are suffering because you were too stubborn to wait for your tablets you really only have yourself to blame.
- Today’s dress is on loan from Monica Kenny. Apparently it is meant to be a top but knowing as she does my love of leg revealing dresses she thought it would make quite a nice frock. I am loving the pink tights and care not whether it makes the dress look taccy. The shoes as is often the case are Kurt Geiger and the photo was taken outside in the garden with the use of the tree and our first flower of the year in the boy’s back garden. There was a fox hiding in the brambles behind us but he scampered soon after seeing my scary pink pins. I had a few wardrobe malfunctions whilst doing a gig review at Fuel but luckily I was facing the band and not the audience so casualties were kept to a minimum.
Day 48 – The last day before lent
Today has been one of those days where my mood lifts but only for a short period at a time, much like the periods during which I managed to find a live stream of the United match the highs are short lived and unsatisfyingly fuzzy. I blame the dress; although it is gorgeous; a mac design by Topshop which has to be pinned together at the bottom to stop any Cheryl Cole esq front rump, (yes I know she is having a hard time but really why did this mean we had to see so much of her) but even still I am not a fan. It is partly because I feel I look too healthy to be wearing it, the last time I wore it I was decidedly more slender. The other reason is that wearing it reminds me of a bad decision I once made in it when I had too much to drink and trusted someone to look after me who was a friend, but isn’t any longer.
The details are unnecessary but it is foolish decisions like this and my tendency to feel low for days after if I have had too much that has led me to want to give the booze a rest during lent. I am not giving it up as such, I find that as soon as I give something up it is all I can think about so I am going to treat alcohol in much the same way as I did cigarettes. I’m not giving up, I’m just not having it at the moment. This way I don’t put myself under too much pressure and if I fancy a glass of wine one night or am out for a friend’s birthday I wont feel the need to be a total kill-joy. I just feel I need to get back to the point when I have a limit on what I can drink which I know suits me and which I can stick to. . 
The last time I tried to give alcohol up for lent I was in an incredibly intense but simultaneously extremely destructive relationship. I was utterly in love with the guy, not at first but he wore me down and eventually I let myself go to him. 
Unfortunately when I met him I had just recovered from my first episode of depression and having left my first boyfriend I was vulnerable and although the euphoria of falling in love at first kept the lows at bay, once they returned he couldn’t cope especially when I drank to try to get me back to what everyone expected me to be, fun.
To be fair to him he was younger than me by a year and prior to meeting me was widely known as a man who played the field. It was inevitable that something so intense would end in tears, and it did when he got with someone else whilst I was back at home trying to put myself back together. I had sunk too low and he wanted to be with the girl I was when we had first got together, I tried desperately to get her back but with being away from home and a doctor that was keeping an eye on my moods I couldn’t lift myself and so understandably he went elsewhere.
What was so strange is that when I decided to knock the booze on the head for lent he brought me a shot of vodka and placed it in front of me. I don’t know why, perhaps he too hoped the drink would cheer me up and it did if only for a time. After things fell apart, as all destructive relationships do, I was left a sad little soul and it wasn’t until a year later that I really began to recover from our affair. Eventually I got my drinking back under control, I learned what my limits were and avoided drinks that had a tendency to send me tearful and other times just chose not to drink.
The one person who helped me throughout this period was a boy I lived with in my flat in the halls I was President of at the time. He was a muslim who was enjoying his first taste of freedom, loved getting down to R&B as I did and cooked the nicest curry I have ever had in my life. He also shared my insomnia patterns and so we would stay up watching Godfather together and playing silly computer games and pranks. He kept an eye on me and never let me unravel too far and even put up with my pathetic tears. If it wasn’t for him I think I had the potential at the time to fall into full-blown alcoholism simply to escape the hurt and sadness which had as much to do with my mental health at the time as it did with the humiliation of being publicly betrayed.
What my friend taught me which was extremely important at the time was first and foremost to hang on; that I needed to get my confidence back because I was a good person I just couldn’t see it. The other was why it is that we give stuff up during lent and the importance of sharing ones wealth for one’s happiness. During Ramadan I joined with him in his fast, unfortunately I only lasted two days because of my delicate disposition, my low blood pressure and my tendency to faint if I stand for too long. What the experience and my friend taught me is that we give things up to recognise how much we have available to us. although for me it is essentially a religous tradition it is equally a chance for me to reflect and be grateful on all I have.
He also told me about how it is the done thing in the muslim world (and forgive me seriously if I am getting this wrong I am happy to be corrected but this is what I remember) to give 10% of ones earnings to the poor. I always thought it was such a brilliant idea as if we are lucky enough to have money why not share it. Even when I’ve had jobs that paid I’ve always been struck with how much I have compared to how much I need. 
The boy told me I was crazy when I suggested this to him as he pointed out that tax means I don’t need to give it away as someone will do it for me but it is a nice idea and I hope i will one day get paid again so I can carry it through.
For the meanwhile though this will essentially be my last day of chocolate and sweets. Also because I want to make sure I can and because I am concerned about what the latest drugs may be doing to my liver this glass herein pictured will be my last glass of wine for 40 days and 40 nights, I’m gutted it isn’t bordeaux.
Day 44 – How do you get help when all you want to do is hide
Sometimes the blues come on so unexpectedly one is left feeling somewhat shell-shocked. After looking round and looking internally for the cause of them at times you are forced to admit sometimes there is no raeson for one’s state of mind other than just because; at other times you can pin-point the start of a bad mood to a specific event in your week or day. For me I think my blues started around yesterday lunchtime when I came across a posting by a girl who seemed so utterly distraught all I wanted to do was find out where she lived, climb aboard a white horse (still no car due to giant’s concerns) and go help her.
The problem is with all the help-lines available, inparticularly NHS direct is that if you come across someone not properly trained or who has been having a bad day themselves it can put you off seeking help from other sources. I remember one particuarly bad episode when I called the NHS only to be confronted with some idiot who was so concerned with protocol they refused to give me any assistance until I gave them my address. I was taken to hospital by ambulance the next day.
There are many useful telephone counselling services; univesrities usually provide their students with a night-time-hot-line which you can call if you are feeling low and they are usually able to offer advice or listen as you run through worries you are too scared to share with your house-mates or fellow residents for fear you will come across as a crazy person. 
I had a few struggles in my second first year at university and pretty much just wanted to hide away in my room. Luckily for me my mother is not one to do nothing when she thinks her daughter may be in danger and after speaking to me on the phone she decided I was too low and was on the blower to the resident-in-house-tutor at 11 at night with her concerns; by the next morning I was in a comfy chair discussing my problems with the lovely fella for which I felt better even if it was only because he told me he had a hard time when he started himself. 
Over the past week I have come across incidents of several people, some via the blog, others from checking out other blogs written by sufferers of bipolar who are very much in need of extra help. The problem a lot seem to be having is they do not know where to go for assistance. 
Finding out that figures for suicide have increased over the past couple of years is a fact which utterly terrifies me because these people obviously felt there was no alternative, what it shows more than anything to myself at least is that they have been failed by a society which was meant to be there for them.
The difficulty is in-spite of every service available unless a person who is feeling head poorly is prepared to make the first move and reach out just a tiny bit to anyon
e, these services can not be accessed. Although I have had mixed experiences myself with the NHS, the facilities are there to help people who are in need of care. After a few traumatic incidents last year around May I went to the Doctors in tears. I couldn’t get a grip on myself and was so close to falling off the edge it was unreal; luckily that day I was booked in with a caring practitioner who took immediate steps to help, putting me in touch with emergency counsellors. When the situation later deteriorated the same practice referred me to The Crisis Team who came round to the house as often as was deemed nessecary to get me through the darkness. This was a relief to my partner, my lovely, the boy, and I am eternally grateful to his flat-mates for putting up with strangers visiting their house for regular visits for a nearly a month.
The boy has advised me against doing this, but from my own experience I know there are times when one finds it too hard to pick up the phone and reach out and writing or speaking to someone neutral can help.
All I can say is if you are feeling blue, please try and reach out to someone, and then perhaps they can get in touch with people on your behalf. If however you just need to vent to someone who has been in unplesant head poorly situations before please just send me a comment here or if it is too difficult email me at bridgetmcdaid@googlemail.com not for counselling, and not for an immediate response, I can not promise that, but I will try and get back to you within a week at the latest even if it is just to advise you on a number to call. Please if you know someone you think is struggling try and bring them out or get them to seek help, people may say they want to be left alone but if you are really concerned don’t let them suffer in silence, there are things that can be done to help and no matter how dark a day is the sun will always shine again even if you have to drag them outside to see it.
