Moody

I am a moody buggar. There I said it. I don’t enjoy this fact of my life, it’s downright depressing in it’s own right Bipolar not withstanding. But this morning I woke up laughing. Who knows I could have spent the night chuckling to myself. I usually listen to the BBC World Service at night as the monotonous droning of business analysts and foreign correspondents lulls me off into a deep sleep. Last night I tried something different. I put a whole series of an old radio programme called The Navy Lark onto a memory card and whacked that into my bedside radio and laid back and drifted off… well I say drifted off I spent the first 40 minutes of being in bed laughing at the show. It’s probably not the best thing to do when your trying for good sleep hygiene but I needed something different last night.

I don’t exactly remember waking up this morning. The first thing i realised was that I was laughing out loud to the radio show that was on. I looked at the clock and realised I had only been asleep for a little over 4 hours and by all rights i should just turn over and go back to sleep. Instead I laid there for 20 minutes listening to the end of the show that was on at that time. It’s a great feeling to wake up with a smile on your face.

My mum said that she could hear me laughing through the wall last night and it made a nice change to hear as it doesn’t happen very often. Waking up in a good mood has led me to have a pretty upbeat day. I have kept up with my Twitter feed and have been listening to Planet Rock all day. I will probably cook dinner tonight and be back to keep up with the days events. It’s good to not be a moody buggar once in a while.

Until Next Time…

Coming Down…Slowly

I finally got to bed at about 11am this morning. I slept for about three hours and then went back for three more. My head is still racing but It’s a little quieter in their at the moment. As I have mentioned before I hear voices. These get agitated when my head gets all messed up. I get ranting screaming torrents of abuse at times like this. At one point at about 6 am I came very close to talking back to the voices in a vain hope that they would just shut up if they knew I acknowledged them.

As you can probably imagine, if your told something often enough you start to believe it. It’s how the government work after all. When I went to bed it was mostly out of desperation at just wanting a little time where I didn’t hear the voices and they would quieten down to let me sleep. I was tired enough but it was a gamble, one that, luckily, paid off.

Now I am just kicking back and trying to let my head sort itself out. It’s goinig to take a couple of days to get back to “normal“. It’s going to be tough but I have been there before and I’ll no doubt be there again some time soon. If you hear me screaming at about 3am you know the voices are still playing up.

Until Next Time…

Aces High

It’s been a long day and it’s not ending yet. It’s not as if my life amounts to much. I do do a great deal each day. But I survive the best I can and make do with what I have. I took sleepers last night as I have been doing for the past few weeks and the normal course of things is that I go to bed I sleep and if i wake up before 11 I get up have a cigarette and go back to bed to get rid of the residual side effects. This morning I thought I would try something new and get up at 7.30 and have breakfast and see if that helped my day along any. Well by 9am I was asleep again and I didn’t wake up till gone noon. When I woke up I had the most amazing rush of agitation going on in my head.

It was as if everything was running two times as fast as it should, and I felt as if I was about to fall off. Off of what I don’t know but I was definitely not a steady chap this morning. I had taken my pills last night and I took my morning does when I had breakfast (a habit I have gotten into after being diagnosed with Diabetes), so I knew that it wasn’t a meds problem. I muddled through the day being very restless and smoking more than usual. I was continually up and down out of my seat.

I think this is part of a manic phase that doesn’t fully manifest itself. I get so far and then it backs off. Mind you it’s now 3am nearly and I am still wide awake and cognisant enough to write this. If I go to bed I will just lay there and bang leg legs against the matress as though I am running a marathon. So here I sit listening to anything fast and loud. Stuff to take my mind of the racing thoughts and the lack of sleep. So far tonight I have listened to a Rob Zombie Bootleg, a Whitesnake bootleg and now I am listening to Iron Maiden’s Live after Death. It’s amazing how intense music gets when the world is spinning so bloody fast.

Monty Pythons Galaxy Song (click here for a breakdown of how factual this song really is)

That’s a bit how it feels when I get like this (also any reason to throw in a Monty Python song). I really wish I could get off this crazy Bipolar ride. I feel so drained of emotion sometimes and it hurts me not to feel the same way two days running. I crave stability. I don’t know if this manic phase is going to last, I am just going to have to ride it out and see where it takes me.

Until Next Time…

Evil Twin

Back in the day, many years ago, I put my illness down rather jokingly as my having an Evil Twin. My evil Twin would be the outlandish and vibrant person that the real me wasn’t. My Evil Twin would be the one stood up half drunk singing Meat Loaf songs on the Karaoke at 1am in a crowded bar (I have no singing voice to speak of…but he got a few free beers out of it). My Evil Twin was the one that worked in the theatre for days in a row with only a few hours sleep and a pack of Pro-Plus to keep him going. He in effect burnt me out and when I used to crash from the Evil Twin highs it was awful. I would rage against everything. I would become a screaming tantrum filled child. If I didn’t get my way, god help whoever was in the way of me.

Looking back on those years I do regret my Evil Twins existence. I regret the hurt I laid onto others around me. The releatinships that crumbled as my sanity was flaking away. If I could go back and change things, or even speak to my younger self I would make sure that I told myself that I needed help and taking a flame thrower to the candle was not the best way to go. It would have been more preferable to burn the candle at both ends and have it peter out gradually but blazing the whole bloody thing at once was no way to go.

It’s been close to 20 years since it all kicked off and during that time I have probably had two maybe three years combined of good mental health. I can say this now looking back at all the stuff I got up to and all the history is there to be seen. The mistakes I made and the risks I took. The bad feelings that were left due to a manic high that got me rushing from one project to the next, to being so full of myself that I thought I was the only one who mattered. There are people I should apologise to and repay, but they are no longer available or around for me to do that. People who put up withmy shit and never said a word. If they had any insight into what was going on the never showed it. Maybe in hindsight if they had I wouldn’t be here writing this now.

There were times of depression during the manic times. When work stopped for the summer or the build up to Christmas where i would have to scrape together bus fare to get to my Family. I begged lifts of some people to get me where i needed to go and they all took care of me. Did I repay them enough?

My life is one big jumble and it would take a long time to unravel it and set it straight, but there are those of us who have fallen either literally or figuratively that will never get there dues owed them. The best I can say to them is Thank You and Sorry I didn’t see the problem before it was too late.

I used to quote the Love/Hate song Evil twin by saying.

“It wasn’t me… it was my evil twin”
Now I realise, there just isn’t any separating the two… me myself and I.

Until Next Time…