THE MENTAL HEALTH FILES, #2

So we made it all the way to October, and like last year, I'm currently not in great shape. Up until the new year, all bad patches were part of an atypical two years for me. It's more usual for me to be fine for a really long time, then have discrete and brief (around 4 months long) bad episodes. It's been going great for 9 months, so yay! At the moment, I can work, converse fine, be sociable(ish), funny, take an interest in other people, and find every moment of my work an absolute joy. When I stop, it's suddenly... urgh.

So in the interest of kicking its bottom and being authentic, I'll describe it a bit more. Feel free to scroll on if it's self-centred or boring.

My triggers: major changes in pace/ season/ responsibility/ stress levels; start of the school year; autumn in general; walking around in the dark; having too much time on my hands; (historically) completely overreacting to criticism or unkindness.

Early warning signs: the odd bad evening, especially more than one in a row, although I've learned over the past few years that this CAN mean nothing, thankfully. Bad dreams and/or not sleeping well. Not wanting to do things, starting with work before spreading to life admin and leisure activities. Repeatedly putting off insignificant jobs that I just can't face.

Later signs (bearing in mind that I am capable of going from 0-60 in a matter of days, and this time it's all happened so fast - around 48 hours): Persistent feelings of being unwell and not being sure what's wrong, until I stop to identify the cause, and realise that my brain is making my body hurt. Waves of physical pain that start at the top of my body and wash over my whole self. Feeling that my veins contain cold, murky ink, which occasionally gets shaken up to cause the physical sensations. Sometimes, motionlessness. To the outside observer: no discernible difference from normal, as far as I'm aware.

I can certainly see the good and the hilarity all around me. I'm just about doing everything I need to, with some procrastination. I'm working part time - about four days per week, but spread across six days. My kids are fine and we're having loads of positive conversations. The house is still standing and so are we. An advantage to being medicated permanently is that this episode might well magically get cut off short after a couple of weeks, which is pretty cool when it happens. If not, there will be some rocky days and nights ahead, and things should be OK some time in the new year. It's all good... I think.

Ask me anything, if you feel that way inclined.

The Mental Health Files, Part 1

As I promised myself about a week ago, I'm going to do a quick update about something earth-shattering and life changing that I figured out the other day, with the help of a video that FB decided I might be interested in watching (message me for the link if you like).

I haven't watched any of this lady's other videos, before or since. I will be doing so when I have time. From what I can gather, her issues are very, very different to mine. She has had substance abuse issues in the past - I haven't. She was diagnosed bipolar as a child - I haven't - and it turns out that it's not a good fit for her either. In this clip, she gets diagnosed with ADD as an adult, and lots of things suddenly fall into place. I don't have that either.

This post isn't an invitation to challenge my own diagnoses, which I'm incredibly firm and secure in, having researched everything and figured them out for myself. My primary MH issue first appeared when I was 5 years old, and recurred with any sort of new experience, change, and seasons that reminded me of those changes. I finally figured out what the problem was when I was 19 and doing my Psychology degree, then started treatment a year after that. I self-diagnosed my other issue in my mid-30s, and that had been a recent development... an understandable one in relation to circumstances at the time. It's now on the wane because I'm (a) out of the situation that caused it, (b) much older and (c) more confident in my personality. I'm just not sociable and that's that. I like people, relate just fine to one or two at a time, and will find an excuse to not come to your party. People generally don't bother to invite me any more!!

So, with the understanding that we're two very different people and this lady's problems stemmed largely from substance abuse and untreated ADD... there are some very interesting parallels. It's worth watching from the 4:30 mark, when she gets her brain scan results. At 5:45, the doctor tells her what looks like bipolar is actually ADD plus trauma from having lived with an unpredictable, angry alcoholic dad. And the more I hear about this sort of thing, the more I realise that even just the first 14 months of my life (when I was exposed to the same) has impacted me profoundly... and much more than my sister, who was only 6 weeks old when we were removed from the situation.

At 8 minutes, the doctor discusses the patient's amazing recognition of social cues and negative faces. YES!! I am the same. I have mild face blindness, especially with men (probably unrelated) but pick up on negative expressions, atmospheres at work, he-has-just-fallen-out-with-her, etc, instantly. My social problems don't stem from being unable to read the cues, because I absolutely can. They stem from not knowing what to do with that information. E.g. someone tells me one thing, and their body language tells me they are lying... which one am I supposed to respond to? E.g. I enter a room at work and can instantly tell there's been a row. I have no idea if I'm meant to know that, or supposed to act like everything's normal. I will usually spin on my heel and walk away fast. Guess who has trained us to recognise negativity and anger so acutely? Our unpredictable alcoholic dads again.

The biggest revelation came even later for me, around the 11 minute mark. In every way except for one, my problem is an exact textbook case. I read an entire book about it for university, and it felt exactly like somebody had written a book about me. The one thing that doesn't fit? We are supposed to feel worse in the morning. During my worst episodes, when even sleep feels like torture because the blackness seeps into my dreams, the only bit of respite I would ever get was the first few moments of the day. Then things got progressively worse throughout the day, until evening/ nightfall, when I would be (and I now mean as recently as 8 months ago) completely desperate and unable to function. The doctor in the video says that at night, when it's dark, is when the trouble would tend to happen with a violent alcoholic parent. Nightfall is like a daily emotional reminder of those times. This news took my breath away.

Maybe it's coincidental, and maybe my first 14 months were generally happy; I obviously don't remember, and probably won't talk to my mum about it. My issues are something I usually muddle through alone, although I've started to talk about them a bit. I found this very helpful though, so I'll file the information away and view my evenings, social sensitivities and acute radar for sadness/ anger through the lens of having been set up to experience such high alerts due to my very early life, and the way I was parented.

Before I finish, I get asked a LOT if I'm bipolar, and people often don't believe the answer. No, I'm not. When I'm at my physical and mental best, I cram lots in to make up for lost time, and to occupy my mind. My best strategy for keeping my own demons at bay is to have a lot of projects on the go, to feed my mind and not give it the chance to wander off to places I'd rather it didn't. My mood and attitude changed for the better a few years ago, when someone I barely know described my personality as 'bright and strong' - I don't see it, but I guess that's what is there once you get past the reserve. I also like to do crazy things, and occasionally to shock (e.g. cutting all my hair off on a whim; writing a rather surprising song for some friends recently) and the overall effect is clearly very chaotic and 'up'! So it might appear that way, but no, I'm definitely not bipolar.

Will definitely ponder on it all some more.

keeping it real

i have been keeping a diary of our activities since the beginning of lockdown, over on facebook.  apparently, this is day 152.  i tend to talk about what we've been doing, plus anything major in the world of musiclady and musicfamily, and give updates on my charity madness/ music practice.

before i carry on, i know lack of punctuation is extremely irritating.  i just feel that lower case suits the way i'm feeling at the moment, which is small, insignificant and powerless to change anything.  normal service will hopefully be resumed shortly.

today, i managed to teach a variety of lessons, and it all came back so naturally.  they were actually face-to-face lessons too, which was particularly nice.  i got daughter 1 (henceforth known as goo) to play some flute duets with my grade 6 student, because they're going to do some gcse performance stuff together next year.  it's the first time goo had played in a couple of months, and the most she'd played since march.  i really hope she'll decide to pick it up all by herself soon, but if she doesn't, i'll just keep inviting her friend round for long duet lessons!  goo also had a bath, after a few days of paying no attention to hygiene, refusing to get dressed or brush hair/ teeth.  unfortunately, that's where today's progress ended.  she spent the rest of the day watching rubbish and fighting with us.  i've managed to fall out with both kids, which doesn't feel good at all... although i had a much nicer chat with her sister rara later in the evening.  rara has been to a sleepover and is just exhausted, but it turns out that she also got told off while she was at her friend's house, which seems to have affected her unduly and ruined her day.

i did waste some time, watching stuff on youtube (pointlessly) and playing souped-up boggle (fruitlessly).  i also spent a huge amount of time helping both girls talk through their troubles and try to find solutions.  this ended with screaming and yelling from goo, and floods of tears from rara.  i seem to be the common denominator in their outbursts, and i've literally had enough of parenting right now.  and enough of adulting.  i haven't been thinking about it, but i go back to work in a couple of weeks, and my position (self employed woodwind teacher, lots of children in some of my groups, which won't be allowed) is going to be extremely precarious.  i'm stressed about the fact that i can't leave goo unsupervised at all, and the fact that we all have to be locked, bolted and chained into the house overnight.  mr music is working all weekend, so i won't be able to pop out for anything, or go anywhere with rara at all.  she wants to go for a run/ bike ride tomorrow, but that will only be possible if we go before goo is awake and aware that we've sneaked out.

i'm now way behind on practice... three instruments per day, taking 20-60 minutes each (usually 30-40) isn't that big a commitment when i'm working so little.  i'm therefore cross with myself.  today was meant to be bassoon, piano and something else, but mr music has had to go to bed very early.  i'll have to pick something quiet now... but at 26 days in to my 100 consecutive days of practice, there's no way i'm starting all over again.  i think this is my 4th attempt in any case!

so in summary, not a very productive day; a bit of a setback for goo, who's also unhappy with her teachers for year 10 (she does have the worst english and maths teachers possible) and rara is downright miserable with everything in her life.  there's only so much positivity that i can deal out, and that particular jug is almost empty at the moment.  on the other hand... what is the worst that could happen if i weren't here to constantly encourage, motivate, troubleshoot, nag, etc?  probably nothing... they probably couldn't be any more miserable if they tried.

and on that cheerful note, i'll leave you for now.  good night.

the lost days

once again, i find myself in an alternate reality that nobody else can see or experience with me.  i don't consider myself an optimist or a pessimist; rather a realist, but positive with it, if that makes sense.  the current situation at home is getting to me once again in spite of all my coping strategies, strength as a parent, resilience forged in the fire of my own pain, and various projects to occupy my own mind.  this time, the pain is not mine, but my daughter's.  even with our best efforts and medical input, we are currently staring behind us at 3 suicide attempts (that i am aware of), one instance of extreme self-harm, three disappearances including one in the middle of the night, and intention/ threat of causing criminal damage, which she did not carry out. none of us quite knows how this has happened to a wonderful, loving, sensitive, gifted, sociable 14 year old.  at the moment, the biggest problem is her inability to let go of the pain that many of us caused her several months ago, by putting an end to some inappropriate behaviour and attachments.  she is constantly revisiting it, curling up with it, playing out different scenarios in her head, and telling me things are now hopeless because she can't go back and do things differently.

as her mother, i am doing everything i can: being strong when i think i can't, endless chats and encouragement, distractions, organising fun activities, checking in on her, holding her while she sobs, doing things for her until she can do them for herself, and forgiving her for the many hurtful things she is doing.  she is hurting everyone around her, she is hurting me a lot, but most of all, she keeps on hurting herself over and over, by pulling the metaphorical scab off an old wound.

she is officially under camhs and has her next appointment on wednesday, to talk things through.  however, since may we have had assessment after assessment; now extended assessment after extended assessment.  in reality, we all know what's wrong with her, and nothing therapeutic has been done, at all.  it falls to me, as usual.  we haven't had access to our scissors or most of our knives for 3.5 months.  we are having to double lock the windows and doors at night, and there are various other things i need to confiscate from her room tonight.  she's also currently grounded.  i'm trying hard to maintain my own relationships, jobs and projects, but i'm very behind right now.  i don't think i'm paying enough attention to her 12 year old sister, who is currently and mercifully out on a sleepover.

despite my own issues with change and autumn, i will welcome september and her return to school for some routine, friends, distraction and normality.  but the prospect is fraught with foreseen and unforeseen difficulties; will she fail to catch the bus home and simply wander off? act out at school? refuse to do her homework?  become so sick and needy that i will have to give up my day job to stay home and carry on doing this for ever?  

this is not the life that i want for her.  or for me.  until she can find it in herself to forgive, to stop living in the past and to move on, nothing is going to change.