Tonight I’m going to party like it’s 2006

(There are lots of new people reading.  It’s a bit weird for me so excuse my strange tone).

I had my housewarming yesterday, which would have been more fun if I hadn’t thought a few drinks wouldn’t hurt, y’know, it is my housewarming, after all, and I was nervous nobody would show up.  I ended up getting completely drunk and then downed tequila, which, like absinthe, is one of those drinks that makes me go mad.  I woke up this morning and wasn’t at all surprised to see a series of cuts on my left arm.  It’s been over a year since I self harmed.  Only one of them is deep but I still feel horribly disappointed in myself.  That’s my general consensus right now.   I feel like I’ve stopped making progress and that I’m peddling backwards.  I keep missing my appointments and I wouldn’t be surprised if I was discharged from the community mental health team because of it.  An entire hour of sitting  talking about it feels difficult.  I stare at the clock and can’t wait to get out of there.   There’s never anything new to say.

Edit: I should clarify here.  I’m a LOT better than I was- it’s just that things have happened recently that have sent me into a mental tailspin, hence my boozing, cutting, etc- stuff I didn’t do until lately.  I will get over it, it just annoys me that I’ve reacted this way.

I’ll consider my housewarming my last hurrah in terms of that and try very hard not to get bogged down in my little drunken pit of self loathing, wondering what embarrassing things I said and did and just how much people hate me for it.  I don’t really know why I do this to myself when I know how badly alcohol affects me.  Especially given the medication I take, which means I become drunk and lose awareness really quickly.  I guess I haven’t been coping with recent events that well.  But you knew that. 

I’m still stressed out, although my skin is returning to its normal, less terrifyingly zombie-esque colour.  Islington council are still underpaying my housing benefit, despite me giving them all the documentation they need.  I.  I’m going to end up ambling down there with a bag of clothes and chucking everything I own at them.  I’m not sure dirty pants are good as payment but it’s worth a go.

In short, the summer is so far shaping up to be like all the other summers.   I need to keep an eye on myself, I think.  And stop messing around with pills and my CPN.  Sorry for the boring post!  Minor miracle I’m awake enough to write it; if I miss doses of Seroquel, as soon as I start taking it again it’s like how it was when I first started taking it.  Fifteen hours sleep a day and struggling to lift my head in my waking hours.  I’m trying to summon the motivation to get out of the house and cycle and do other active things but bloody hell, it’s tricky.  

If I lower my doses of Seroquel, even by 100mg, in order to be awake and aware, I become hypomanic, in the extremely twitchy, panicked, paranoid way (see: last week).  But on my ordinary dose, sometimes I can barely get myself out of bed, and I strongly suspect that my medication may be making depression worse, because sleeping too much will do that to you.  I set four different alarms every morning, and they don’t often work.  When I do wake up, for an hour or two I’m really happy.  I’m so dozey and drugged that the world around me feels like cotton wool.  If I navigate myself to my appointments like that, I almost get knocked over and killed about five times but I sit in my little blue chair giggling and rambling.  

We have adjusted the doses countless times, and there doesn’t seem to be much of a happy medium.  Bugger.

I have Stuff to Do, so need to be functioning. I have to go out and find a pair of stepladders to fix my bathroom light.  At the moment, there’s only one very dim bulb burning above the toilet.  Every time I go to the bathroom, I feel like I’ve stumbled into a film noir.  “Bonjour, est-ce que tu m’aime?” he says.  Smoke curls around his mouth.  “Ah, oui, oui,” says she, raising one gloved hand to her beret.  “Mon amour est pour toujours…”

49 Responses

  1. Sorry to hear that, Seaneen. Know what you mean about the letters. The taxman has been my bete noir recently.

    And I never touch tequilla – awful stuff.

    Keep safe eh? And don’t go getting too famous on us now🙂

    Dx

  2. not gonna say anything because you know it yourself.

    Just that I’m thinking of you and look after yourself hun.

    And yes tequilla is evil haha

    x x x x

  3. Hey Seaneen.

    A few setbacks don’t mean complete failure. Try to be patient and kind to yourself.

    *hugs*

  4. Of course you’ve stopped making ‘progress’. It’s the scratches, the poverty and the prescriptions that keep people interested, after all- to change is surely to have to become like everyone else, and then what would you do? Take responsibility for yourself? Heaven forbid.

    • You’re out of line, whoever you may be.

      What is being “like everyone else”? I’ve never experienced. it. Is there a control group somewhere that I can join?

      And, no, the things you listed are not what keep people interested. As for the “responsibility” comment, refer back to first sentence.

    • For a start, I am like everyone else. And this would be an elaborate con if I was staying like this for the craic.

      And aside from recently when I have admittedly gone a bit weird, how am I not taking responsibility for myself? I manage my own life totally- bills, money, medication, everything.

      • What we have here, people, is a prime specimen of the Lesser Spotted Troll.

        ((((((((((Seaneen))))))))))

        You’re not weird, you’re ill. And this guy telling you to take up your bed and walk – who does he think he is? Jesus?

        • How can you tell its a guy Lucy? Just curious.

        • Please don’t accuse me of trolling, I’m doing nothing of the sort. All I’m doing is advancing the opinion that unconditional hugs and housing benefit might be doing nothing to assist you with the root cause of your condition. Of course you can’t be seen to be content with your situation Seaneen, but you do give the impression that you’ll carry on knocking back the pills and writing about every setback for as long as there are people to read it and wrap you up in validation.

          • You are out of line. If you can’t give support you shouldn’t be here. If you are irritated with what Seaneen writes then leave. Have some compassion.

          • This is a blog. I’m glad I write it and stuff, but it just a blog. All it is keeping records, which is necessary for me, my memory is rubbish. I do look for support but not validation. One of the reasons I write about stuff like drinking when I shouldn’t be drinking is so I get shouted at a bit by people.

          • Should also point out I was sick for a good ten years before this time, and blog. Getting better straight away was never going to happen. I do everything right to get better- recently I have gone off the rails because I had a difficult personal decision to make. Aside from that, I do what I’m supposed to be doing.

          • As the only person with any real objective viewpoint on Seaneen’s day to day life, I have to tell you that you’re reading the situation wrong and frankly you don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about.

            The blog is a medium for venting frustration/recording existence/seeking like-minded experience. I’m glad she writes it, it means other people in the world can tell her she’s not alone in her experiences – something I cannot legitimately do, not being bipolar.

            Although it denigrates the admirable reslove Neen shows to state it, I have been her carer at various points over the last four years. Your opinion not only rubbishes her, it also drubs all of the effort and heart break and hard work I have been through. Who on earth do you think you are to deliver a definitive opinion on another human being?

            You have read the blog a certain way and reached a conclusion, perhaps no-one can argue you out of that. I however can tell you that you are definitively wrong and have the weight of being the other person in the ambulances and waiting rooms to back it up.

            If the blog ever smacks of validation, it is because Seaneen constantly doubts her condition. As I say, I am the one completely objective party. The doctor’s appoinments that medication renders hazy to her? I remember them vividly. So I will state once and for all that there is no doubt whatsoever that her condition is debilitating and life altering and GENUINE. She could not affect it herself however hard she tried, and she repeatedly has. You want her to drop the meds and the benefits and go back to work, you be the one to watch the consequences of that. She could not possibly work at the time being and she certainly tried. Her trying was humiliating and hard and painful until her CPN got benefits for her. It was counter-productive and made life incredibly difficult.

            Commenters like yourself can undermine the good that she tries to do, be niggling at a person with an affliction often accompanied by paranoia that they’re somehow making it up. You are not helping. Why on earth would you even bother? If you’re right the person won’t care, if you’re wrong – congratulations! – you may as well open a market stall handing out razor blades.

            But yeah, probably over melodramatic. short version: YOU ARE WRONG, YOU DO NOT KNOW WHAT YOU ARE TALKING ABOUT.

            If you won’t take it as truth from ‘Neen, kindly at least warrant me the respect to believe it from me.

          • The housing benefit in question is chronically underpaid. You. Nasty. Stupid. Little. Creep.

            What the hell do you know about mental illness anyway?

    • I’m pretty sure there’d be some surprises should he ever walk in another persons shoes for a day.

      I think he is suggesting that you might be purposefully be resisting getting better so that you don’t lose your readers interest.

      His ignorance is a blessing he might never truly appreciate.

      • Yeah, it’s totally worth staying horribly ill so that I get good site stats! Life’s ambition right now! I’m doing all of this for the craic! Just ask everyone around me who has to deal with it. WOO!

        If I was resisting getting better I’d be exactly like I was in 2006. I am a lot better, it’s just that recently things were shit and sent me into a tailspin.

    • sorry but who the hell do you think you are? you have no idea what my sister goes through on a daily basis, you are a narrow minded sad little person and if you’ve nothing better to do with your day than to leave spiteful little comments for people who are ill to read then i suggest you fuck of and get a life. people have always been intrested in reading what funny intelligent people write, sadly this means that no one will ever be intrested in a single thing you say

      • I hope you don’t mind me adding my twopence worth here but I can’t help myself. What exactly do you mean when you mention the ‘root cause’ of the problem? The ‘root causes’ of bipolar disorder are a combination of hereditary, chemical imbalances and stressful life circumstances – not terribly unlike, say, those of cancer. I don’t imagine you’d be suggesting someone with a long term or terminal physical illness address it in such a way. Bipolar disorder does not just go-away with positive thinking, meditation, dietry changes or sound career advise. It is not a life-style choice.
        A mental illness such as bipolar can drastically limit one’s employment options and, sadly, that is as much if not more to do with fear, prejudice and inflexibility on the part of society than the actual sufferer’s capabilities.
        Speaking as someone who helps advise mental health users on benefits claims, I can tell you that not only do claimants receive a pitiful amount of money to exist on and are subject to frequent humiliations, I rarely meet one of them who does not want to work or offer contribution to society in one way or another. If you took the time to read this blog properly you might realise that Seaneen is far from a self-indulgent, self-promoting malingerer. She makes her contribution, and currently she is not sufficiently rewarded economically.
        You appear to have no idea how it is to live with a mental illness. Seaneen tells it how it is and I don’t believe for one moment it is for her own validation. I’m also pretty certain if she had the option not to be poor, ill and dependent (which she should, may well have some day and is striving towards), she’d leap at it. And her blog would be no less compelling for it.
        Right, I’ll step down from my soap box.

        • It’s difficult to take the opinion seriously of someone who affords depression the same status as cancer. Surely you don’t need me to tell you how ridiculous that is.

          • You seem to think that people ask to be mentally ill and that it’s therir fault. The cancer comparison is a bit extreme, but mental illness still strikes people without warning, without being asked for and it often debilitates people to the point of not being able to have a normal life. And it has a high mortality rate. With bipolar alone about 15% of the people who have it will die by suicide. Their lifespans are also shorter because many people with it tend to smoke, and the medications for it cause problems with blood sugar and the liver. In short, it kills, and truncates lives. And no, it is something you can magically make better. If it were none of us would be here, we’d be fine and dandy by now.

            • In fact, I was actually lucky to become ill when I was really young. The things I lost I could get back. There have been countless people who’ve commented here who lost everything because they were suddenly struck down.

              And it’s trite to say it , but at least with physical illnesses like cancer there’s not much of a stigma attached to it. You’re kind of proving the point that you should be ashamed if you have a mental illness because it’s not “real”.

              • (And even taking the bloody medication for it means that people will call you a weak victim).

                • That’s fine if you don’t take my opinion seriously (I don’t always take it seriously myself) . I did just write a long, qualifying comment to respond but then remembered that this is not my blog and space to do that. I’m merely an imposter. Just wanted to point out that my opinions are not necessarily those of the author and she doesn’t need to respond to them unless she really wants to.

          • Irritated;

            Depression and Cancer are more alike than you know. Both are conditions which manifest in physical symptoms, although the root causes are different and diverse (and if you don’t know what I’m talking about, take a quick glance through Nature Cancer Review or one of the other journals out there). Both can kill. Both can be cured. Both can devistate lives. Both can resolve spontaneously. Neither afford a person any sort of status – people with cancer can be jackasses and people with depression can be too.

            And if they’re so different – why on earth is there so much research into the causes of both? Depression/Bipolar disorder isn’t purely an instability in mood. It’s a physical disorder. There’s mounting evidence to suggest both might be due to epigenetics.

            So before you start saying they aren’t the same, please, do some reading.

          • You obviously have not personally known someone with Bi Polar, Schizophrenia, or any number of other mental illnesses.

            Alzheimers is another that is just devastating.

            Cancer is an illness that is very sad, but if you’ve seen someone losing their mind and go about destroying themselves because they are afraid, and don’t understand it any more than you do…. You realize it’s every bit as frightening, if not more.

            The carers often are put through far more emotional stress. A cancer patient can often feel as if they are waiting to die. A mental illness patient might often be proactive and searching for a way to die – and even planning the way to pull it off undetected.

            A brother, a sister, a mother, a father, a good friend — they all feel helpless at times wondering when the next bad moment might come, and if they’ll be able to be there to help them through that moment. You find out how little money can buy, even if you had it.

            It’s nice that you took the time to share your thoughts on the subject you know so little about – but obviously have strong opinions on. You are a real class act.

          • The comparison with cancer is not extreme at all. People kill themselves every day, you. Piece. Of. Scum.

            • (sorry, that was to “irritated” lest there be any doubt. S/he should be called “irritant”. That sort of school bully type personality, fed by tabloid bullshit and government non-facts is all too common these days and really gets under my skin.

              Don’t listen to the lowlife – Personally I ban trolls myself)

  5. I hope you’ll get better! I guess the blog helps too, for me it does, as you can get all your feelings and thoughts down in writing and also in a way monitor your progress🙂

  6. I battle with taking my Seroquel too and know exactly how you feel on it. The waking up in the morning is a killer and i feel like a zombie for the first few hours i wake. As you know already drinking on them is a recipe for a disaster but i hate feeling the way i do and want to feel like other people do.

    Ignore the dippy troll who needs some excitement in their life.

    Try and get yourself back on track and kick Islington HB into touch.

  7. As soon as I saw the word alcohol I knew what was coming in this post. I’m sorry to hear it, but understand what it’s like. Just hope it doesn’t make you feel too crappy and doesn’t happen again. Try and forget and move on though. Make sure you do make your appointments. There is no point missing them just because you’re ashamed of it – being able to go to the appointment shows you really are making progress!!

    I had half a glass of wine the other night and was on my way to silliness. I was told I could drink in “Extreme Moderation”, an oxymoron in itself, but if half a glass of wine doesn’t fit that brief I don’t know what does. Thankfully my bloke stopped me before I got much further with it.

  8. try to think of it no so much in terms of “not making progress”, but more visiting something again that has made you realise exactly how much you don’t want it. you’re still progressing. would you have ever been the person you are now back in 2006?

  9. sorry for posting on here, feel a bit rude coz you dont know me, but as someone with only mild bipolar, i find even a couple of vinos my limit on meds, when you mentioned the word tequila, my stomach lurched! i think its the drink of the devil and does nothing to help those of us touched by madness! dont be hard on yourself for it, you are only human and despite the consequences, still allowed to think or feel that its ok this time (even if it isnt ) and make an error of judgement! i hope you feel better soon. ( oh and just ignore that dickhead)

  10. Do you have a bicycle? It’s only a suggestion. A quiet road or canal path. Good luck, keep in there.

  11. I found as I kept getting better, I got more scars. Little bits of getting better meant that more old pain surfaced. It’s not a regression, it’s part of getting better. And out here in ‘normal’ land where we’re all seemingly better, believe it or not, we all talk utter bollocks when pissed. It’s true🙂 you should eavesdrop with a coffee. Makes one’s own drunken nonsense sound like Plato🙂
    Gah, Mr or Ms Irritated really needs to get back to reading their Daily Mail and thinking about their taxpayer’s money!
    hugs as always
    A x

  12. It’s not the first comment like this. On a deleted entry the other day, someone said similar, that I was “affecting” something to further myself. I wrote a response by email, not sure if it reached them. The gist of it was that any strangeness or forced tone of late has been due to nerves about the play and about new people visiting here. I also didn’t want to say, “Hey, I was up all night feeling physically ill with dread”. I don’t promote this blog (except lately with the BBC), so I’m always uncomfortable linking stuff I’ve been on or whatever.

    It is nervewracking, and I’m not playing up to anything. If anything, right now I’m “playing it down”- I don’t want to go into diatribes about how rubbish I’ve felt lately because sometimes it embarrasses me, therefore, I make a joke. I am grateful for the play and was involved because I thought it might help a little in changing the image of the illness, but of course it’s weird to me to be known or whatever because I have a mental illness. Was never really my life’s ambition, y’know?

  13. Hello Seaneen🙂

    I listened to the play on Friday with great interest. I have actually read your blog before (I think I found it via the BBC Ouch website last year) and associated the play with your blog, and not vice-versa like most people will.🙂

    I have a friend who has bi-polar disorder and I’m trying to understand and help as much as I can. It’s hard to know what kind of behaviour is the disorder ‘talking’ and what is the person’s natural personality. Your blog and associated info is helping a lot🙂.

    I’m sorry you’re having a tough spell at the moment. I hope you feel better soon😉.

  14. I would be interested to know what the “root cause of your condition ” might be, and also, what they were doing looking at your blog at 5.24am.

    If you step in shit wipe it off, don’t try and reason with it.

  15. Hi Seaneen

    Came to your blog via the play as many will have done recently and so glad I did. Can’t really better all the comments re: the play… an extraordinarily well told tale but it was the tale itself which mesmerised for it’s raw & painful honesty and it’s slightly surreal mix of the mundane with the almost unbearable. If only we could hang Life on a hook when we have our own Stuff to deal with, maybe it would make things easier…
    I’m sorry that things have been tough for you recently. I’m also sorry that you have to deal with other people’s ignorance and intolerance. Maja Angelou wrote a great poem, which helps make me feel buoyant when people try to make me feel squashed – Still I Rise. Nil carborundum!

  16. Ooh, just came steaming in apoplectic at the last, but thankfully it’s already vanished.

    Take care, ignore the idiots – not that you need telling.

    Dx

  17. p.s. not you, huggermugger! – Seaneen or Rob, you can delete this and my last if you want to preserve continuity. D🙂

  18. LOL Dirty pants make for an awesome payment – says me. But I write on my walls, so what do I know?😉

    Meanwhile, thanks for reminding me of my bathroom light. A similar state… I shall think film noir in place of a little red ribbon on my finger.

  19. Didn’t expect to come back and find Catatonic Kid giving her thoughts on dirty pants.

  20. LOL well I can relate to dirty pants… and the troll sure doesn’t need feeding. fat and happy troll, apparently. bah.

  21. i love the thought of the film noir character saying “wee, wee”…

  22. blimey – after leaving my comment on your post i read the other comments. who is this “irritating” person? your other readers are right – anyone who thinks you would make this up for your blog stats has to be a little deranged…

  23. “It’s difficult to take the opinion seriously of someone who affords depression the same status as cancer. Surely you don’t need me to tell you how ridiculous that is.”

    Yeah, well…

    “In clinical samples, about 50% of persons with bipolar disorder (BD) were found to have a history of a suicide attempt. In the largest epidemiological study on the topic to date, the suicide attempt rate in persons with BD was twice that of individuals with unipolar depression.”

    I don’t suffer from “depression”, I don’t get suicidal when I’m “depressed”. When I’m “depressed” I, like any other person, can go for a walk or listen to some Led Zeppelin and cheer up. I have “manic depression”… and manic depression has a higher fatality rate than cancer. I’d rather have the lump in my gut.

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