Okay things went well I guess, no crying or panicking... just relentless flashbacks. Not nice, I had to keep reminding myself I was at home and safe and all was okay, he wasn't there.
As it went away and I felt better I watched the last house on the left. Not a great film to watch after feeling that way, watching her getting raped even though I know it's just a movie just sent more flashbacks my way. My mum could see I wasn't right but I made myself laugh at the end when he microwaved his brains and his head exploded. That was cool.
When they were doing the whole killing the bad guys bit I was rooting for them with such ferocity that I was almost shouting at the screen "KILL THEM, THEY'RE SCUM!" but I didn't. I felt like it was justice for her. For all that they did to her they should die but I know that's wrong. In my world everyone deserves a second chance and usually more.

I mentioned that I had contacted the mission society my parents were with. A really nice lady got back to me and said she had managed to contact some ppl who were there when we were and also a couple who are there now. She said they were both happy to get in contact with me. This is HUGE. So many thoughts are rushing through my head like I will find out more about my childhood, I will find out more about the place, can I visit, CAN I ASK ABOUT MY ABUSERS? Speaking to therapist tom, which I think is a good idea. For now I just need to digest this. Wow. I cannot explain how much this means. When you have grown up somewhere you can't just go back and visit, then suddenly get that place made accesible to you again it is the biggest feeling.

Cracked

...for a bipolar like me who can't seem to stop blabbering!

I only talk when I feel comfy - and when I feel comfy - everything seems to tumble out. I'm slightly elevated atm. I just read Cracked suggesting we write early warning signs. Mine? Increased energy, increased mental clarity, a feeling of hopefulness, wanting to and feeling confident to engage with others, organisation.

One good thing is at least I am feeling a little tired.

I joined a walking group this morning, and drove to yoga but got stuck in traffic and got locked out, went to women's health centre and spoke to the manager and returned a library book. I rang the HR lady and told her I would be coming back to voluntary work . I'm taking on way too much and I will have to extricate myself from it, as I swing back to depression.

I might be a bit naughty and have a day nap a little later coz I got up so early this morning and I have been hypomanic for three days, so taking it easy rather than sleeping is prolly the better option.

I've got to buy a new fridge and I don't know quite how I am going to go about it financially but it is a medium term goal that I can chip away at, one day at a time.

Thanks for reading. Cheers, LW

Well. I have sort of always wonder what blogging was all about. I haven't had the opportunity to try it out yet. So I guess here goes nothing.

I'm a writer. I am a Science Major but I should probably be an English Major instead. So here I fight with the very analytical, clinical nursing side of my brain. I naturally want to create so the two sides fight. My creative writer side of things is being defeated. This could change that.

--> I'm diggin the blog thing. I get to talk about myself because I can. <--

I decided on my 26th birthday that I was starting over. With that, I am finally getting serious about writing my first book. I have no idea what it's about or what it will turn out to be. I know that I keep a notebook in my bag so that I can write down random ideas that sound good at the time. Obsessed. Obsessed with mostly crap. But I guess that's okay. I don't know how else to start, so I just started. Pretty cool.

Anywhoo.... So lets get on with it, shall we?

Mental illness sometimes blows. Sometimes not, but sometimes does. Mental Illness. The two worst words ever. And all because they got put together. Just a polite way of saying --->she's a nutcase.... <--- I've gotten used to it. I've always been a little weird. And because of my unique mental state, it took 'em twelve years to diagnose. But, two years ago they finally labeled me. It felt fantastic. Confirmed my fear. Legally crazy. I have been given a list.
-->Bipolar 1
-->Generalized Anxiety Disorder
-->Obsessive Compulsive Disorder
-->Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
-->Bulimia/ Anorexia
You would think I would really be nuts but I wasn't. At least not on the outside. Most people don't have a clue that I have all this business going on. No... no that $#%^ is inside. Even worse. I would much rather be outwardly crazy. Inwardly crazy.... well, it's just crazy.

I saw what my alter looks like. She came in a dream. She was beautiful. Dark skin, dark hair. Bright green eyes. Natural, not contacts. She had a smirk on her face. Always. She had a fierceness about her. Cruelty. She was dominant and controlling. She is 14. She likes to mess with me. It's almost like she is the very thing I hate. That I hate about myself. I

t's odd. I know that I created her. My mind trying to protect itself from something. 14. That's when it started. The crazy nutso teenager came out. Didn't slow down for the next 12 years. I just can't figure out why. And I can't figure out why my mind is giving me a picture of her now after all this time.

I like to keep her a secret. I haven't confided in anyone. Now, I am telling the entire worldwide web. Hmm.... Something a bit twisted about this picture? But. This is the one place I feel safe. The one place I don't feel like I have to have a front. I can feel crazy and happy and high and low and everything in between here. I can do that because here, others know. I don't have to explain. No matter what, someone knows. And, that is all I needed. To not feel like an outsider for once. It's wonderful.


Now, in conclusion to Stacy's Blog Post: Episode #1. Thank you very much for reading my post. I quite appreciate it. (That is if anyone actually is, in which case, I don't care. I will pretend like I have avid dedicated readers on Post #1...) Stay tuned for Episode #2.... Good evening and good Day. Peace is love, love is peace.

Forums can be a negative place. I learned this years ago. Lots of venting and negativity. WHat can you expect, really? Nobody comes to a MH forum to talk about their good times. I have approached this forum with the goal of remaining positive, even when I don't feel like it. Offering whatever help or suggestion I can to others at least makes the time feel worthwhile. I amdit my perspectives can be skewed, however.

The internet shouldn't substitute for interaction with others or a therapist. However, they do allow one to express themselves in a detached manner with sufficient feelings of safety that one can at least express themselves instead of keeping it in. Writing about your thoughts helps, even if nobody listens or they are not directed at anyone in particular.

The questions I have been somewhat obsessed with lately-- are socially healthy people really normal? What is normal? How do people do it? How do they make it work? It has always been a perplexing problem. It's like trying to crack a safe. I have been able to figure out a few numbers in the combination but I am not sure what order they go in or where the other numbers can be found. It can inolve a lot of stumbling and fumbling, sometimes making a fool of oneself in the process--or perceived fool. Who knows. I do not get bothered as much as I used to. Therapy has helped some. INteracting with others in group therapy as well. Interacting the best I can with strangers also is something I work at. There is always that missing code, however. Where is it? WHy can't I find it? Is it worth the search? I don't know, really. I become tired of worying about it.

The last few group therapy sessions have made me consider the added problems faced by men in the MH system and perceptions of the public. WOmen with MH issues suffer just as much as men. We are all equal. HOwever, I do have the notion that being a male with mental illness can bring additional agravations--or perceived conflicts. Easy to pass off men with MH issues as losers and violent loners, people to be shunned and feared. Part of this is hollywood's doing. Part is ignroance by the general public. Part is the gender roles and stereotypes.

I also get worked up subconsciously in group therapy sometimes when the dual-diagnoses individuals seem to get the most respect from others. Those who have dealth with drug addictions are often passed off as "Courageous and strong." for dealing wht the issues. They are courageous and strong but these are two words never associate with those who have struggled with and dealt with MH deblitating MH issues. Men who suffer from MH issues are often seen and portrayed as suffering from a personal weakness and defect of their own choosing, even among some of those who themselves have been treated for the same conditions. Youre a man. Suck it up and move on. Those who have toiled with MH issues are never protrayed as filled with courage or resolve. MH issues lack glitx and glam. It is a defect. Nobody makes an MTV show about MH patients undergoing rehab for depression , bipolar, or schizophrenia. One is relegated to loserville.

Such is life. Nothing you can do. I also have skewed perspectives. End of negative thoughts for the day. It helps to express them in one swoop, instead of brooding on them and carying them over to the next day.