Day #295 - Oh Brother!

If you are reading this then you might be wondering what happened during the past couple of months. In a nutshell, I had a couple of episodes which both ended in hospitalisation. I was unhinged by a number of things and I am usually pretty good at keeping myself steady but it was tough. On top of all of this I had to deal with a threat of violence from an individual that would have little scruples about doing as much. In addition to the threats of violence I was warned to stay out of his way. The surprising thing is that this same person has in the past been very friendly but angry at turns. The term "mercurial" springs to mind. We have parted ways but the threat lingers. The person can be quite frightening. They may not realise that they can be like that but they are and that is for me a bit unsettling. Enough of that anyway - onward into the blog.

My absence has been due to the depression. One of the things that I have noticed with the bipolar thing is the way that following any kind of breakdown one can find themselves encumbered by the memories of past failures which in turn can exacerbate the condition. It would be no exaggeration to say that the thing can often feed itself. I was asked a little while back why I stopped blogging and if I planned to post again soon. Well here it is. This same person told me that they really enjoyed reading my posts. I am flattered by that although I remain at something of a loss as to what they find entertaining. Horses for courses though, so if they like it that is good enough for me. In the last entry I posted I was telling the story of a friend that had spent some time in the psychiatric ward of our local hospital during Christmas. The chap that got a screwdriver set. Remember?

He told me that there was never any effort made to part him from his screwdrivers. What he did with them I found pretty funny. At quiet times he would zoom about the ward and start unscrewing tabletops, cupboard doors, pictures etc. He also managed to gain access to an old style notice board with the letters supported on a board filled with holes to accommodate the pegs on the back of the letters. This type of display was quite common in barbershops and some cafes some years ago. Once he managed to get to the letters he set about rearranging the letters to create "new" messages. One of these read; "Welcome to the Nuthouse - we're all mad here!" He told me that whilst a few of the patients noticed the new text, the nursing staff were oblivious to it. Needless to say, those that were "in the know" got a great laugh out of it. 

I remember the very first time that I spent some time "in the unit", as they say, and I was amazed first of all, to meet a couple of people that I knew from my ordinary life. There were a number of respected business people, a policeman (retired), a professional athlete and several academics. This was something of a revelation to me as I had been of the somewhat naieve impression that the other patients would all be "nutters". This is a view that is still widely held amongst many. What changed it for me was PERSPECTIVE. I knew that I wasn't crazy but there was a genuine reason that I was in there obviously. I had a talk with one of the nursing staff and he told me that there was nothing to worry about and that the reason I was where I was, was a legitimate one and that I should use the opportunity to rest. He also told me that there was a reason why such places were formerly known as asylums. He asked me to consider the true meaning of the word asylum and it was at that point it became clear to me that I was where I was for the sake of my safety and that whilst I could leave when I wanted to it was recommended that I stay at least a week and talk to some professionals about my situation. One thing that became clear to me very quickly was that it was very much driven by the "requirement" that I started taking medication. This was the beginning of a pretty rough ride for me and I tried many different kinds during the following year. I just stayed a couple of weeks as an in-patient but for the next year or so I was meeting doctors regularly. I found that to be quite difficult. One of the things that I didn't enjoy was being "processed". I think that the majority of psychiatrists like their patients to fit into a specific category and should the patient fall outside of that classification then they may be construed as awkward or "difficult". In my own private life I have had intimate relationships with a couple of  psychiatrists - LONG before my first visit to the unit or any facility and baack when stuff was pretty "normal" - and I found their own mental health to be slightly away from the norm. In retrospect I can imagine that they may well have been affected to some extent by the things that they have encountered in their own professional lives. I don't think about that too much though as I find that it cultivates feelings of anxiety as well as being completely unnecessary. 

Medication has helped me in the past but I think that the one thing that works better than any medication is a normal and stress free existence. The threats of violence that I described above certainly didn't help me feel better at all. I am glad to be passed all that. The best things for me are good food, plenty of rest, some light exercise, or even full-on physical work and the company of genuinely good people that don't have an agenda or some kind of hidden desire to see you suffer. The lobsters that I have often spoken about are often the ones that can make my mental health deteriorate. And, like I have said in many previous posts, these lobsters take a great deal of pleasure out of that. It is a sort of moral sadism. These people are best avoided.

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Last Friday night I went out in the evening for the first time in nearly three months. I had a wonderful time and a good laugh. It helped that I was in the company of some people that are genuinely nice. I am very lucky to have the REAL friends that I do. I feel even happier that I enjoy regular correspondence with a fellow radio enthusiast whom I have never met in person. I consider this person to be one of my closest friends. Another thing that I have become aware of is the potential for unpleasantness that social networking websites afford those lobsters that seek to hurt and damage you. I draw a parallel to the "proximity effect" described by Heisenberg. These individuals "play to the gallery" so to speak. Their astonishingly wonderful lives - on the social network - are geared to cultivating the impression that they are wonderful people that lead an existence bordering on the fantastic and that you, as a "friend", can enjoy a part of that. A true friend will be part of the good stuff in your life but the individual that just uses social networking to let everyone know how brilliant everything in their life is going is really just displaying deep insecurity under the veneer of their supposed "fabulousness". To once again quote J.P. Sartre; "Hell is other people".

I will conclude this post with a couple of quotations that I put side by side almost twenty years back. I even printed them up on a sign and put it on the wall of a shared office I worked in briefly. They fit together pretty well.

                   "Love all, trust a few, hurt no one"  - William Shakespeare

                    "It ain't bragging if you can back it up!" - Jaco Pastorius

Until next time dear reader, I will bid you adieu but do stop by again sometime. I hope to post more regularly in future. To be honest, I have missed the enjoyment of putting down a few thoughts about what it is to be....

L8R's