Overcoming Mental Illness

Poached eggs on toast with the most ludicrously small portion of spinach I have ever seen. This portion of spinach was so minuscule you were seriously left wondering how eating it would ignite the muscles in your arms Popeye-style and give you the strength to get through the day. The poached eggs were wonderful, as was the bread, just a darn shame about the spinach. Sitting across from me was - shock - not an empty chair, but one of the most beautiful souls I have ever known.

“Why didn’t you phone me?” She asked.

“I wanted to,” I said back.

She just gave me one of her looks, a look I know well.

“I guess I just didn’t want to bother you,” I added.

Another look.

One of the most common and recurring problems in today’s world seems to be asking for help. Everyday people are having problems with work, relationships, finance, legal issues, health, family, their pet wombats…the list is interminably endless. Yet, asking for help with a problem from anyoneis increasingly becoming one of the hardest things in the world. Perhaps fear of appearing weak, needy or incompetent is the primary cause - three things which none of us wish to appear to be, as is no doubt evident from the wealth of posts on my blog dealing with similar issues and frustrations.

For some reason we all like to believe we have red, blue and yellow Lycra suits on underneath our daily clothes so that whenever we feel like it we can loosen our ties (or brassieres) and reveal that we are actually from the planet Krypton - or just someone with a fetish for wearing our underwear on the outside. Now don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t mind so much if I girl I was seeing dressed up as Supergirl for a night of kinky fun as I’ve always had a self confessed superhero fetish, but reality alas always gets in the way.

“C’mon, when do you ever ask for help?” I questioned.

A pause.

“Do what I say not what I do,”

Such wonderful words. Do what I say and not what I do…oh how many times have I heard those in my life? It’s funny how they always seem to come about when the giving of advice is involved; surely leading by example is a far better way to be. Although if I were to leap off a cliff, break 326 bones, spend several months in traction I would probably then tell someone to not jump off a cliff - which would I suppose be a good example of do what I say and not what I stupidly did which caused me months of emotional and physical pain. Anyway, I digress, for this post is surely about Superhero fetishes isn’t it…

…well, actually not, but then surely I’m allowed to dream ;)

ASKING FOR HELP!

WHY IS IT SO HARD!

We don’t ask Superheros for help do we? They just swoop on in and save the day, that’s why they’re super and heroic and look sexy in their skin tight costumes. What is it about those four simple letters which makes it so hard for the majority of us to say?

I can’t speak for everyone, but what I can do is tell you my story of why I find it so hard to ask for help - and then you can all click on the “submit comment” button and tell me your stories and then maybe we can get to the bottom of this perplexing issue and create a new world order where help is not a reviled word to be feared, but is actually something which proves how strong we are.

Okay, so my issues with asking for help stem primarily from my social anxiety disorder but when I was back in my prime and had overcome depression, self harm and all that in the few months pre-breakdown I was feeling much better about myself in everyway. I actually felt that if I had put on a Spiderman costume (my own personal superhero outfit of choice) I would actually have looked like Spiderman instead of some chubby guy in a suit which caused people to vomit because it was just way too tight for public viewing. So I did actually, on occasion, ask for help. Or rather there was one specific occasion where I tried asking for help before anyone offered it, before I went days or weeks without trying to indicate there was a problem, for the first time in my life it was “frack, I have a problem, I need help, okay, I’m gonna ask for it!”

So I sat down and tried asking for help…

…then came the criticism, the heartfelt words of ‘bugger off your problems aren’t important” then came the dumping and the breakdown and the months of turmoil and loss of social network and friends and everything I’ve had. Me attempting to ask for help with a CLL diagnosis was a major catalyst for everything that happened. 

So is it any wonder I have a pathological fear of asking for help? When one of the only times I’ve ever done it in my life the reaction it received cost me virtually everything in my life bar one thing. My own misplaced belief in myself, which even itself wavers from time to time.

I would LOVE to be able to ask for help more often. I get messed up sometimes, very very very much so, and sometimes all I need in those moments is to speak to someone about anything - crickets, jam, koalas, Tibet, the state of the political situation, Lego Indiana Jones, yaks - and it just takes my mind off things to ease me back into control. Yet, because I don’t ask for help I end up cutting myself, or taking overdoses, or hiking 50odd kms to the Dandenongs with a scarf in hand. 

What’s weaker - asking for help or ending up in hospital staring at blank ceilings when you want to be looking at a friend?

[This post makes no sense. Maybe it's the hyper-manic state I'm in coupled with shock and confusion from the events of the weekend which I still haven't really come to terms with. Maybe I shouldn't even post it.]

I just want to know what others think. Why is asking for help so hard? Why does it make us feel like a shit person? I’ve just explained my reasons, so what do others think? Or am I completely wrong and is not asking for help selfish.

My friend (and it feels good to write that) said to me as I finished off my poached eggs:

“I would much rather you bother me before you did something like that than tell me afterwards,”

Which is true. Because I’m the same. If Supergirl, Superman, Spiderman or any of the whole pantheon of Superheros we drool over each night were to land in front of us a couple of days after the city had been destroyed you’d be PISSED! You’d have a go at them for not helping sooner.

If you don’t ask for help then you won’t get any. If you try and deal with everything by yourself, you’ll end up like me.

Don’t end up like me.

One word. Four letters. H E L P. Use it whenever you need to. Your friends - your true friends - will always listen.

[PS...hands up if anyone thinks I can write a more confusing and badly written post than that. Blimey. I need a drink]

—1—
Strip naked (yep, get it ALL off!)
Go stand in front of a full length mirror.
Now, instead of focusing on all those moles, hair patches and love handles…
…concentrate on all the drop dead gorgeous things about yourself.
Yep, it’s bloody hard, but you can do it!
Try three things to start with.
Say them out loud to yourself - and mean it! Things like:
“Addy - my god - you have the cutest smile you’ve ever seen!”
“Look at those nipples, they’re damned awesome, how could anyone not like those?”
“And good god, look at that adorably spankable ass? Absolutely mind blowing,”
See, you’re starting to see yourself differently already…
…now do this everyday, every-single-day!
Adding one more thing each time.
Within a few weeks there’ll be nothing left you don’t love.
—————

REMEMBER YOURSELF WHEN YOU WERE IN HIGH SCHOOL SERIOUSLY
AREN’T YOU JUST SO MUCH MORE FANTABULOUS NOW?

—3—
Single?
Lonely?
Sick of all those couples pashing, snogging and fondling in the street?
Beat them at their own game.
Go on a date with the person you love - YOU!
Cook your favourite meal (or order take-away), light some candles, throw on your favourite movie.
It sounds silly…
…but enjoy it…this is you time…anyway…
…the fun parts still to come!
What do all those sickening couples do at the end of their dates?
Yep!
So get nekkid!
And get that butt to the bedroom for some naughty fun and games!
It’s purrfectly natural.
So don’t go feeling all guilty about it.
Remember his is ‘you’ time - so love yourself in every way that you want to.
Your mind and body will adore you for it!
—————

—4—
It’s dead easy to beat yourself up about being wrong.
We’ve all been there.
Sitting there alone, bemoaning to ourselves about all our mistakes…
…whilst spanking our inner moppet for all those silly things we’ve cocked up.
Stop.
It’ll take time, but start catching yourself doing things right.
Instead of smacking yourself for messing up…
…hug yourself for doing something awesome.
You didn’t burn the cheese sandwich this time? HHHUUUUGGGGGG :)
Yay! You’ve remembered to take the garbage out! HHUUUGGGG:)
Bugger…forgot to sign the report…but hey, it was a damn well written report. HUUGGG :)
Get the idea?
—————

LAUGH YOUR ASS OFF AT LEAST ONCE A DAY

—5—
If S.A.D is making you feel crappy what can you do?
(those not in the know - S.A.D is this case being Social Anxiety Disorder)
Talking is so hard isn’t it?
I know.
Been there.
Done that.
Always coming up with that awesome story or wit-tastic one liner about three days too late. Well, there are things you can do…
Start small!
Don’t aim for that big conversation first time out. Build up to it and you’ll be feeling so much more positive about yourself in no time. So to prepare yourself for that potential panic attack at the big night out with your mates on Friday, start earlier in the week.
a) On Monday, ask a stranger for the time.
b) On Tuesday, ask a shop-keeper about the weather. It’s a cheesy way to start but a small conversation will follow.
c) On Wednesday, do both Monday & Tuesday’s things for practice
d) On Thursday we need to up the anti - try start a conversation with a complete stranger. Make it about something you like so as not to throw yourself into the deep end.
e) On Friday, have your absolute favourite food for lunch. You want to feel really positive for that big night out - no chickening out now with excuses about being sck just ’cause you don’t want a panic attack in front of everyone.
And then by the time you hit the pub with your mates you’ve got several spontanious conversations with complete strangers under your belt.
YOU’RE AWESOME!
So starting a conversation with people who actually know you should be much easier,
Take your time until you’re comfortable,
Then start a conversation with the person you are most comfortable with.
This will ripple on to bring someone else in.
And another.
Soon, everyone there will be chatting because of you.
How awesome is that!
No panic attack.
So then all you need to do is try and have a fantabulous evening…because next week, you’re gonna do it all over agian - upping the anti each time. By the end of the year you’ll be feeling so much better about yourself.
:)

More ideas will be posted soon…so keep loving yourself until then…you are awesome :-)

It’s been a bloody weird week!

Most of it has been spent darting round the house keeping an eye on eBay auctions - and then camped out on my butt in my store/bedroom packing up over 150 items of my past into small bubble-wrapped packages. I should be used to losing things by now, especially after the mass exodus of my possessions last year, but it still hurts when I see my past being shipped off to locations all over the UK, Europe and the world. I can see how many would see this as a cathartic experience, but it’s also painful to let go of so much when I have so little left. Sure, it’s only “stuff” but it was my “stuff”, and now it feels like more pieces of myself drifting off around the world. A little tough to deal with when there’s so little of me left.

Then there are the banks…and good god don’t get me fracking started on those! I’ve barely used the account over the last few months (i.e. because there’s been no money or income going into it!) but they’ve still thrown on a few hundred pounds worth of charges for the most random and bizarre reasons, even on several examples, for things that they decided to do without any knowledge from me. So I have even less money now, despite the massive Addy eBay sell off!

In addition to this, I’m still not receiving any benefits, and one source of benefit (incapacity/unable to work) has already been denies - which just leaves income support to be either refused/granted when they make their decision. We shall see.

It’s been a bloody annoying week!

Well, it’s been a rather ‘meh’ month for the blog really hasn’t it? It’s fairly obvious to all that my mind hasn’t quite been with it in the way it was when I commenced this whole project, but with this ever fluctuating mind I’ve been saddled with it’s sometimes hard to find the concentration required to write posts. It’s a bugger really, but I’m trying bloody hard at the moment following my final weeks in Melbourne - which really kinda stuffed me up!So without further ado I’m trying to get back into the swing of things, or rather, squeeze myself back onto this crazy space hopper that is life.

In terms of the blog I realised I haven’t really been giving it any love of late. If it were a relationship you could say I’d been giving it the occasional grunt before heading off down the pub for several pints before coming home and crashing out on the sofa a drooling pissed-up wreck (i.e. not exactly many snuggles)…but realising my neglect today I took it out for a slap up meal before coming off, stripping it naked and doing things to it which would make even a porno star blush!

Or in other words:

• I’ve been adding to the “About Me” page. One of the original provisos when I established the blog on Blogspot was to create a blog which wasn’t just about mental illness, but about me, so I’ve added a few pages which show a little more about my interests. You’ll find a music page, television page and a movies page, all of which contain several music videos and movie/TV exerts which I love, adore and/or admire. So rather than just reading a list of things I like you can experience them for yourself.
• There are also a few more photos of my good self, including the first photo of me in nearly twelve months! (Be afraid, be very afraid!)
• I have also been doing a lot of stumbling lately, so if you’d like to find out a bit more about the kindof stuff I peruse on the ‘net drop by my StumbleBlog. I use it mainly as a photography/art blog so there are lots of pretty pictures for you all to look at should you so desire, and if you’re a stumbler to, don’t forget you can add me as a friend if ya’d like.

• My Facebook page is currently out of action and I’m in the process of trying to get my account back, so all you Facebook addicts bare with me and hopefully it will be sorted out soon!

In terms of other areas of administrative excitement: (What? Some people have office/admin fetishes!)

• I’ve also been working on two pages in the Understanding Mental Illness section; they deal with Schizophrenia and Eating Disorders. Although I do not suffer from either of these illnesses (or at least they’ve never been diagnosed) I feel it’s important to add them to this section to give people a better understanding of them.

 Schizophrenia

 
Eating Disorders (coming soon)

• I’ve been working hard on trying to further establish the blog carnivals which I run in the hope that the next issues will contain a few more articles relating to mental health and a few less articles on how all we have to do is think positively and we will find our mental illnesses cured forever (i.e. the “just cheer up” approach) So if you’d like to help out in this area you can submit your articles below: 
  To submit to Cutting and Self Harm Awareness Carnival click here.
  To submit to Mental Health Down Under click here.
  To submit to Carnival of Mental Illness click here.

With regards to my sister blogs:

• Eliminate the Stigma of Mental Illness has been getting some lovely feedback but I’m not on a bit of a “contributor drive” so if you’re interested in sharing your stories and opinions on all topics related to mental illness quit hanging around and sign yourself up as a writerfor this wonderfully low-key yet highly exceptional blog (don’t blow my own trumpet too much, but a bit of self love is okay from time to time)
• All those stray thoughts is just enjoying sunbathing naked in the heat of exceptionally talented artists, so if you should so desire, you can peek over the fence and have an eyeful of some utterly marvellous art. It’s being updated a little more frequently now.

So even though it may not look like it from just a tertiary glance over these blog pages, things are happening, albeit beneath the surface. Help yourself to a wee poke around and see what you can unearth…and I’ll be back later today with Getting back on the space hopper…part II, which will be all I’ve been up to over the last few weeks - and where I go from here!

Oh the extravagant joys of panic attacks, odious things that leave you a trembling wreck at the base of a tree. Not quite sure exactly what set it off today, I’ve given up trying to identify my myriad of triggers and ignition switches at the moment. Absolutely bizarre day yesterday leaping and jiving from mania to depression and back again and back again in a matter of hours - today, casually strolling down the street and then BAM panic attack. So now I’m seeking solace in a wee internet cafe before retreating to my bed for the remainder of the night (yep, fortunately I was able to find somewhere for this evening, which is good, better than sleeping under a tree, trust me, anywhere’s better than under a tree!)

Such an odd start to the year really, odd as in not very good at all, as in not happy in any way, but still a start to the year it is. I am hoping to post an article on panic/anxiety over the next couple of days - I had hoped it would be ready this evening, but alas in a cruel twist of fate (getting used to those now) a panic attack prevented a post on panic appearing today. 

I find that quite delightfully amusing, in a rather twisted way, to be honest :-)

[...and in other news I should be on a plane leaving Australia next Wednesday (AEST) so that's something I suppose]

I really have no idea what’s going on any more. Seriously. My brain is a frazzled up piece of cheese, you know what I mean? It kinda feels - and I’m sure if we were to give me a lobotomy (maybe that’s what I need!) it would also look like - a globule of cheese that’s oozed out of your toasted sandwich and fried itself on the bottom of the frying pan.

Maybe that’s what I should do; fry myself on the bottom of a frying pan, but then I don’t think they make them that big so I guess that’s options not gonna take.

It’s the hardest thing for me at the moment, writing this blog. I’ve been battling through an utterly insane mixed episode for nearly two months now. Fighting off the crushing lows whilst dancing with the pixies on a daily basis as thousands of ideas and questions fluctuate through my mind. My day is a continually oscillating cavalcade of emotion, one second so high I feel I’m an immortal God, the next so low I’m nothing more than that once appetising but now rather manky piece of fried cheese. It’s kinda like this:

[CLICK IMAGE FOR LARGER VIEW]

every day! Except for the dinosaur, that was just humorous happenstance :-)

And everyone keeps wishing me “happy new year”, hell even I just wished everyone a Happy New Year - but seriously, what’s happy about it? Yep, it’s a new start. A whole fresh year, a brand spanking new set of twelve months to live through: but what’s the point? Everyone tells me to optimistic, to think that the worst has passed and things can only get better…

…can they actually get worse than 2007?

When I was sitting here on Monday night I didn’t even realise what the time was until I heard the fireworks. Whilst three quarters of the world were out getting pissed and partying their butts away, I didn’t even know what the time was until that first blasting clash of fireworks sent shivers down my spine and oozed an ominous odour of doom around the room. It was a bloody scary feeling: total and utter fear. Complete dread of having to endure another year of shite, another calender of atrocities and painful days of unending battling. There is actually so long someone can keep fighting for, it’s called energy, and no-one has an unending supply, but somehow (somewhy) I keep on trying.

So how does this happy (!) New Year start for me:

• I am homeless (again) as of tomorrow.
• I have no money.

and

• I am in the grip of a frightening, gruelling mixed episode.
• I have not a clue as to when I will be on a flight away from Oz.

that’s how I’m starting 2008. Other people started it by getting drunk with friends. I’m sure there’s a fair few million who started it pashing a stranger whilst out their heads on tequila (and no doubt a fair few people kicked off the new year by igniting their soul with orgasmic pleasure). I start it with an ominous sense of dread, homelessness, destitution and a complete inability to know what I’m going to be feeling in three minutes, let alone three days.

I don’t mean to be depressing, I really don’t. I wish I was being fun and humorous and recanting erudite tales of all sorts of wit filled excitement…but right now I can’t, and I’m sorry about that…maybe someday… :-)

And so 2007 is slowly drawing to a close…as my clock goes (AEST) there is a mere 25 and a 1/2 hours left as I begin this post…and as with most people at this time I am thinking of three things:

1. So, what are my chances of a New Year’s pash…
2. Blimey, better get cracking on making some resolutions…
3. The internal-analysis of the last twelve months…

Well I can categorically tell you that my chance of a New Year’s pash are zilch (zero, nada, nought) unless I somehow manage to enter a manic phase in the next 25 hours 27 minutes - the chances of which are pretty slim! And what exactly is the point of making resolutions anyway?

My mind however has been mulling over the last object on this list with a kind of exasperated urgency. Voices, songs, screams and agonised yelps are haunting my every waking moment. The thing I find hard with my bipolar is getting all the ghosts to shut up, they’re just there, constantly, bickering away at my soul until I am nothing but a cowering wreck on the floor.

So let’s for a moment, just a moment (allow me that) forget that the events of the last eleven months happened. Let’s rewind the clock and take a peek at the year that wasn’t, a year that this time twelve months ago was going to be one of the best of my life, instead of the bitch year from hell it became!

[NOTE: From this point on everything not in italics is what could have happened if 2007 had gone the way I had hoped/whereas everything in italics is what actually happened]

…click here if you’d like to read more about my year that WASN’T/WAS…