Just another update

I’m sorry about the emails I either haven’t replied to, or replied to through a fog during or just after hospital. I hope it’s okay that I do one response here. I’m still feeling like shit, but apparently all vital signs are good and my kidneys are doing a good job. My liver will apparently be fine in time. The lung infection is clear too. I lost very little from my flooded house (most of my kitchen is the extent of it, but stuff got salvaged). I got my computer back and repaired today. Sometimes I feel as though I live a charmed life, with intermittent curses. I could’ve died and didn’t and I wish I could just feel pure gratitude, but I don’t. I’m trying to tell myself that for now it is okay to be resigned to being alive, and that I must work (live) from this point onwards. People have been and still are being amazingly lovely, I feel shame…. I’m ashamed that I have so much and don’t relish life. My room mate in the public hospital told me she’d got hiv+ from her bf over four years ago, and that she was dying now. Our toilet, which was shared between some rooms, was full of raw sewage. Going to the toilet meant wandering through wards till you found a usable one. The showers were similar. There was good care there too, though I had to get one lot of meds from elsewhere, because the hospital ran out. I was delusional initially, and very scared of all sorts of imagined conspiracies. Shrink two was on leave, but came to see me. Shrink one just referred the whole matter onwards. I still can’t eat or drink much, but I think it’s getting steadily better. Flat coke and Marie biscuits are my staple at the moment, though not huge amounts of either. I’m back home with my dog now, I sleep a lot, which feels like some kind of mercy actually. I’m also back on fluoxetine and olanzapine and next week I’ll be back on CBT.

Lots of you are going through tough times out there and I’m here hoping that things ease up a bit and that you can find some stability.

Wrote this a week or two before I got sick:

thanks for the hit and miss pills
and the badly applied bandaids
excuse me while i haemorrhage
all over your nice upholstery
i’ll take my bloodstained baggage
with me when i go.

Oh yeah. Hippies. Some people I know and care about a lot, decided to perform some sort of new age idk what what healing on me. Without knowing anything more than my name, apparently four of their connections who were asked to help, immediately ‘intuited’ that I’m in darkness, my heart is in a vice grip, my heart chakra is surrounded in stone and so on. If I’m not mistaken, I think I’m being meditated upon with white candles and flowers at this very moment.

Go home, humanity, you’re drunk….

It’s kindly meant, I just…. I can’t even.

a bipolar disorder linkdump.

It was fair to call it depression. She felt like shit, all the time. If that was depression, she had it. It must have been contagious. She’d caught it from the world. Lev Grossman – The Magician’s Land

(Just a note about the quote – the Magicians trilogy has some interesting mental illness angles woven into it, in various minor ways. Not a reason to read the books necessarily, but a cool aspect of them.)

Okaaay… Nice quote, nice song… Now letsgosmackabitch!

Continue reading a bipolar disorder linkdump.

crash test dummy

“I have a feeling that you’re riding for some kind of a terrible, terrible fall.” —The Catcher in the Rye

I crashed. Of course I crashed. I woke this morning and the bright, yellow sun was blazing already. I felt leaden and full of fear like wings flapping; I’ve read bloggers calling them birds and moths lately and that’s just what it feels like. Someone else posted a photo of shirts saying, ‘anxiety is my cardio’ and true enough, it’s bloody exhausting.


It’s February, you see, and so the third anniversary of my mother’s death is coming up. Lots of bad stuff barely buried there. Synapse will be here with me for it. Might have to relax the rules and just get drunk or something. Eighteen days to go.


One of many, many things I loathe about death, is all of the conversations it cuts short, the mutual interests. Albums get released, books published and I grow angry. It’s horrible, sitting alone with a pile of stuff that should be shared. Music is a bloody nightmare, we shared a lot. Books too. Our tastes varied enough to avoid the book thing much of the time, but music, forget it. I’ll start off just listening to stuff I love that she didn’t (hip hop, for example), but soon enough, the guitars and ballads creep home. “You’re into harmony,” she said to me once, “that’s what you’re about.”


Someone I thought of as incredibly fine told me yesterday that she gets angry and wants to slash her wrists some days.

all cracked up

My lazy pasting of stock images continues. Hypo me sez it’s the next big thing, real me says jaaa I’ll just do this for a little while, then…oh look! A butterfly!

Hypo me almost started a whole new blog for it, BUT I DIRRENT, SEE HOW I HAZ LEARNED! *cough* I hate myself and I want to fry*… Truth be told, it’s a mixed episode, and you guys know that’s less than no fun. The little hypo patches in it are getting me through the day without cracking up completely though.

Look it was either this, or I was just going to blog about tattoo ideas and Bowie’s last album. Actually that might have been better, but I honestly can’t concentr…WOW BUTTERFLY!

* ten points to Gryffindor if you got that.