Today was one of those busy yet unproductive days. I was not drinking any beer or whatever during the period that I was on the meds. I am now almost a week off them now. It has been a bit odd. I am still very absent minded which is annoying, mainly because I know that it is a meds thing even though I can be forgetful occasionally. So, it is with that as a back-story I can relate some stuff from today.

It seemed to me that I was doing so much "stuff" and yet here I am at home at half nine in the evening and I feel like the day was completely unproductive. I visited the bank to find out how bad things were money wise and yes, it's sort of grim. I guess that is what can happen when there's nothing much coming in at the moment. It's been a tough year.

I was stopped on campus today by some exchange students that wanted to know about the college "tour". I invisibly winced when I imagined them getting hurried about being told about stuff that doesn't matter. That's the middle age cynicism kicking in there. I gave them a brief rundown of what was good to know and where the main bits - library etc. were. They were all from across Europe; a Belgian woman, a German woman and a chap from Hungary. I filled them in on a few details but raised a few laughs too and sort of felt glad that I managed to do that.

I know what that means though and it may seem auto-fulfilling but usually when I start to get happy(ish) it means that the black dog of depression is not far away. This is the hardest part of being bipolar. I hope that when I get to sleep that I dream well or not at all, sleep well and hopefully wake up with a slightly more positive outlook. I read on one of those tear-off calenders that has a saying or such at the bottom of the slip of paper, "Making a start is half the job done!" - that's why for me positive starts can make my week, month or whatever.

I don't know if this will be an easy ride. I lost my keys right outside my front door yesterday, I sent an email this morning and it was only after two more tries I managed to actually send the link that I wanted to. Last night sleeping - plenty of nightmares. My appetite though has stabilised instantly and I am glad about that. It would not be good for me to put on so much weight.

I still feel a bit scatty but it's ok. I'll manage. The interesting thing is that the previous two posts to this one are almost identical in content. I hope that my horse will understand that the rider is still pretty much in the storm, regardless of the extent of its' intensity. Yee-haw!

I would like to conclude by saying that it was only by the good nature of a passer by that I managed to find my keys - he handed them into the local police station. I hope my luck holds out.

For the past six weeks I have been prescribed Mirtazipine to "stabilize my mood". I have been on all manner of SSRI's and other medications for depression in the past but until the latest episode that led to this round of meds I was med free for almost nine years. I know that the doctors have a job to do but this stuff that I have been taking is bonkers.

Short term memory loss has been a problem as has a dramatically increased appetite. I like the odd bit of chocolate but five toblerones in a sitting, a 16" pizza with six toppings twice in a week, followed by tea and fruit cake is just crazy.

The memory loss is the worst of all. Last week I spent almost half an hour searching for a test meter that was only inches away from me for all of that time. Forgetting things that I just thought of, as well as bouts of pure mania, making endless lists of "important stuff to do" as well as looking into the future (not literally of course) about this, that and the other thing that needs to be done. It has all got to be far too disturbing. And don't even get me started on the physical effects; shortness of breath, chest pains etc.

I am not saying that anyone should stop taking their meds. Not at all. BUT I cannot function like this. I sometimes deal with VERY high voltages doing hobby stuff (I'm an electronics enthusiast) and I don't want to fry myself all because I didn't realise that I hadn't switched something off. Then there are countless spelling mistakes in emails. Absent mindedness; I left the keys in my bike twice last week. Rash descisions; I impulsively sold a fantastic radio I saved for months to buy for just pennies. Bonkers. I also swapped a beautiful guitar for a tiny wind turbine that I don't actually need. It is all very "not me".

I think that it is time to just get back to being real. If that means periods of depression, well, that has to be better than what I have been through in the last month or more. An alternative strategy is called for.

I'm done with it. Time for a new tack.

Right now I feel pretty rotten so I am going to try and change that with potatoes, hard work and the cultivation of small victories. An old Chinese saying goes; "Drops of water will, in time, wear away a stone yet a rainstorm will leave it unchanged".

That's it for today, time to get back on the horse.

A few weeks back, seven to be exact, I had something of an episode. It had been brewing for a while and I wasn't eating too well. The upshot was that the psychiatric team that dealt with me in the past - nearly a decade ago was the most recent trip - prescribed Mirtazipine to stabilise my moods. all it has done is increase my appetite by a factor of 5,000 and make me forgetful and VERY lethargic. I decided as of today to stop taking them.

Being forgetful is something that can happen to anyone BUT I'm talking about leaving the keys in my bike (twice), forgetting my gloves, forgetting  to post mail, sending the same content in an email three times, looking around for something that is sitting right next to me and, most annoying of all is having ridden all the way across town to buy a plumbing component that I actually bought yesterday. Not good.

I am lucky to live near the sea so I have elected to start a series or early morning walks to make things better for my head. I need to get back on the horse good and proper and smash the walls of my depression. To quote Andy Warhol - "The most important thing is work!", so I guess I've got to do that and make it work.

My Dad died a couple of weeks back. It was pretty sudden. He never really looked after his health and was a dedicated smoker right up to the end. The day it happened was pretty normal - if one can call it that - he had his usual breakfast of coffee and muffins and then at lunch a small plate of cheeses and meats with tomatoes and chutney. It seemed pretty much business as usual. I had to do a bit of work in the afternoon and was late getting home. I stopped by a local gastropub and picked up a full Irish breakfast for my Mother and went to serve that along with my Dad's usual "meals on wheels" dinner. He said he wasn't hungry and didn't want any but I persuaded him to eat at least the dessert and maybe a banana all followed by the usual coffee. Things looked happy and were pretty settled when I left the house to get my meal, do some shopping and have a sneaky pint. An hour later my Mother called and told me that he had collapsed. By the time I got to the hospital he was gone. I'm kind of glad I didn't see him go.

This stuff is pretty hard to write about. When you are just "writing" it seems like that there is nothing one can say. I may have to give this a few weeks to settle down. My Mother is angry with all of it - as am I - but her anger sometimes becomes directed at me. I guess that it's part of the process. The worst of it is that I feel that I have in some way cultivated that anger and derision. I wish I could reassure my Mother that we are on the same side and that my actions are about making our collective life better and not her life worse.

I just wish that she would trust me and not see me as some inept idiot who is trying to ru(i)n her life.

I'd like to get back into this.

I'm tired right enough but hopefully not lazy. Tomorrow is the question.