Talking Trollops!

I need to get stuff off my chest today and so the more humorous 'She Wears Short Shorts-Part Deux' will have to wait. Neither does this post flow well-I think it reflects my confusion today.
 This, despite my excitement at Australian blogger and all round fabulous woman-Mrs Woog- actually replying to my comment on her blog. Having now raised my awareness of Australian country music. I shall be bracing myself for You Tube after this post, lest Kath and Kim are doing something unsavoury with a ten gallon hat, which ends in tears.
Anyways

Talking Trollops
I wish I wasn't so frightened of my cyclothymia/bipolar whatever. My therapist calls it transgenerational trauma.
She reckons that I do myself no favours calling it anything else since everyone is an individual and you should just look at your own set of circumstances. She reminds me that I wasn't frightened about being bipolar before I knew I was, it's the word that frightens me.
Actually, I beg to differ. I often felt terrified but the focus often changed. That awful sense of impending doom settled over the kids, my health, the future, the news, whatever. But it's true that being mentally ill is the Mother of all Major Causes of Fear. Yet (she argues with herself) I wouldn't be so ill if I could stop the fear and so reduce the symptoms. The condition may even be (whisper it )controlled. Yes folks, controlled. That is what we are aiming for.

So, what reduces fear?  The fear which is neither real nor here in this moment. In reality-it comes from my imagination.

Eye contact- it's amazingly powerful but hard to do if you are jellified with anxiety. You actually need someone to help you do it, by looking at you in the eye and making you return the favour. You don't need to talk about the illness if you find that difficult-just make and keep eye contact and talk about the weather or coffee subs or (cough) AAAaaarsenal as Eric Morecambe would say. I sometimes sketch people to maintain eye contact. It gives me a peaceful interlude in a fraught day.

What next?
Turn up at the door.
A phonecall is better than nothing at all but as we've said, eye contact is best and I tend not to be honest on the phone "No, no need to come round. You get on with your own stuff. Don't worry about me" and then I sob myself dry when they take me at my word..
So, turn up have a cup of tea or best of all , take me out somewhere if I've had a bad spell. Again, no need to talk about the illness-just show your acceptance by acknowledging it and then go out. People tend to get housebound in bad spells.
One of the best days I ever had started out as one of the worst. I felt in complete despair when a friend turned up at the door, gave me a big hug (she is not one for talking things out) and took me christmas shopping. I felt completely safe and calm. I'd have held her hand going round the shopping centre if I could've. We had a great day and she said it was one of the loveliest she's ever had.
We never mentioned the cyclothymia and now we meet once a week for coffee come what may. She tells me each time what a lot it means to her that we make the time for each other. After so long being acquaintances, now we are real friends.
If you can listen to the problem, then that is helpful because otherwise things can get out of proportion and just saying it aloud is like using a parachute when you are in free fall. If I can't do it myself, then someone needs to pull the chord for me and just tell me the reality of the situation . For example
" Now, Spikey. You know very well that you can't be the impending mother of sextuplets because you haven't had sex since 1993, and even then you kept your tights on"  (this is very nearly true)
 I understand from my therapist that I will learn to remember that I am wearing a parachute in time.

Be encouraging. I know from personal experience and experimentation that these comments do not help (me)

1."Why aren't you on medication? It's an illness. You ought to be careful. It could get so much worse!"
This is not good as it purports to be professional advice but is in fact, scaremongering smug shite. It does not encourage me to get better and it is quite insulting as she obviously feels that she knows my condition better than me.  The middle 2 sentences are statements of fact masquerading as considered opinion . In other words -the bleeding bloody obvious!!!.

2. "I think that your daughter may have a brain tumour or have had a recent haemorrhage."
This is advanced shite. This was a health professional giving a very unprofessional, unfounded 'musing' in order to explain away her error of judgement and the fact that she never listened to me properly. It turned out to be completely wrong, but not before I had a near-certification experience since I was in the middle of a bipolar depression at the time. Bear in mind the impending doom that follows me about like Eeyore's tail and you can imagine the hurtling journey to rock bottom. Beware of thinking aloud. It does me damage.
3. Someone with your illness shouldn't really do meditation at all. It could be really dangerous. Have you had to go to hospital?
This was followed by very worried eye contact. This is the one instance where it doesn't help- seeing other people's grave concern and pity rather than encouraging engagement. It doesn't help you to feel safe and feeling safe is the key.
To be honest, I was wondering about the meditation myself though. Enlightenment sounds like mania to me with its white light of euphoria filling your being and making you feel as though you are soaring. Been there and done that and have several T-shirts. I really don't want to go there again.
Wouldn't it be ironic if I were practising meditation to control mania and the rest of the world is inadvertently tracking it down. Priceless!
Advice
 If you receive a message, text, email, voice mail or letter telling you that things haven't been/aren't too good then reply as soon as you physically can.
This is a cry for help and even if you can give nothing but a text, send it. It's contact with the outside world which takes one out of one's head.

Finally, we are all on a scale of something or other. I just get anxious more often with less reason than the next man. That's all. I am trying to control that and encouraging input from others is always helpful. Talking helps.

She Wears Short Shorts- Part 1

I have just dropped off a 6 man tent to my daughter, who won't be staying in it and even if she was, it's now too dark to put it up.
I am also trying to stay awake till 1am.


I'll say that again in case you weren't shocked enough...I am trying to stay awake till one-in-the-morning in order to collect Number 1 daughter from the party with the tent, that several teenagers will have tried to put up in the dark.
The same tent that takes 10 sturdy festival-goers (sobriety mandatory) some 1.5 hours to pitch because of its geodetic design and its three 'pods'.

Not to mention its colour co-ordinated poles with fitted keys. The pods always make me feel very new age. Once we've played our annual game of  tent wrestling , we shackle it to the ground and - still too scared to let go of the guy ropes - crack open a few celebratory bottles of hard liquor with our teeth.

Teenagers tipsy on weak punch will never manage.
It'll be a massacre.
It'll pummel them into submission.

I must remember to take my camera when I collect her.


Her 3 young, skinny, snorting stallions (ha ha ha ha ha)  wrestled the tent out of the boot of my car and she skipped down the drive with a cheery 'Cheers Mum' in her very short shorts and the scarf in her hair, a- la- Madonna in Desperately Seeking Susan .

    I mentioned that to her the other day but she's never heard of it, nor has she seen Molly Ringwald in 'Pretty in Pink'. I must rectify both situations, she'd feel right at home.

She's wearing my very short shorts from way back when I could wear short shorts  but still looked crap in them.
She looks fabulous; legs up to her ears.       

She also now owns my old bomber jacket and various other bits of vintage. I am so proud.

She is independent. She has found her own style. Thank God she's finding her voice.

Actually, as I write that I can plainly see that she's found my style.


I am so proud!







Anyway- 1am.

Sigh! 
 Drumming of fingers. 
'Pah' noise with mouth every now and again.  
Sigh.
Usually by now, I'd have 2 cooking sherries and a swig of lighter fuel. At this rate, I'll have to actually clean the house to stay awake.

 Sigh
I did tell her to bring home everyone that wouldn't fit in the tent but our bathroom is shocking!
The cooker has enough food on, under and around it to cook another meal.
If there was a fire, there would be no unobstructed path to the door.
You think you'll never need a tidy house after 9pm but there was always that time - with Nibbles.




 Yeh! You can look all innocent!

Welcome Multiple Mum and her readers :)

Now that I know who I am..Who are you?

I offer up, this post to readers of Multiple Mum  for the Weekend Rewind. I wasn't blogging in February (this month's theme) but this is an early post  from my first blog and hope it suffices. My current incarnation is Postcard Pam Goes Large!  Come and join me there.
Remind me to give you my suggestions of things to do with shower curtains in a bit. We might need a laugh later and I think that you must have dozens of things that haven't even crossed my mind. Think on't whilst I navel gaze.

I am not sure that I like being self aware.  In fact, I fucking resent it at the moment. I can live with the 'need to write' bit - that's taken as read. Boom Boom! 

It's the knowing I am bipolar that I'm struggling with. I'm wondering whether it's possible to go back to the quack for a refund?**

Or maybe an exchange?

I would be prepared to trade it in for halitosis, psoriasis or ferrets. They all have their challenges. I'd still not have it easy but there would be a margin for mischief.
Psoriasis can be scratched and fashioned into a profile of George Clooney, halitosis can be used as a legal weapon and ferrets, wellies and trouser-legs has always been a popular combination for farcical mirth.

I really liked drinking too much and getting flirty (and the rest Spikey) with someone's husband. I don't want to know better! The guilt and self flagellation for weeks afterwards was very nearly worth it once.

How else would I have half-learned so many musical instruments or very nearly set sail on a cruise ship,  lead singer with an elderly show band?   Oh stop it! I'd have phoned the kids as soon as I was on dry land. What do you think Pot Noodle is for?



Oh, and my shoe collection is to die for, darling! I know some people splash out on cars when they are on a high but not me, I risked the mortgage for sexy feet.
You don't need to be able to walk in them, art is worth more if it's one of a pair!

Still got a scar on my knee from these ones.

But, I used to be childlike and innocent in the boundless joy that I had. Now, I will never have it again because I know there will always be a heavy price to be paid. There will always be responsibility to be taken. There will always be a voice in my head, telling me that I have drifted into the dangerous waters of Golightlyland.

The tiny oases of unfettered joy in the midst of a difficult life, will never again be there without a bloody great fluttering flag that says 'For chrissakes, take those shoes off and do us both a favour.'  Killjoy!

** Since writing this article, I have had the hoped for refund as we discovered I am not bipolar simply temporarily baffled!

Shower curtains
Have you had a think? Add your suggestions to my list.
'
Things to do with shower curtains: 


sit, wrap, shelter, fashion into a skirt, have a shower, pretend to be a shower, run a puppet booth, do magic tricks (the floating ball is always a winner). 

Repair a tent, make a tent, make bandages (though they'd be a bit crap) make a flag, lie on the beach, lie in the mud, cut a hole and make a poncho, rig up a partition, provide a makeshift loo door in the middle of a field , tie yourself to your friend so you don't get lost -either pissed or in 
busy shopping malls, shred and use as strips for waxing (ouch!).


Bedding for gerbils, making steam puddings, wedding veil, turban and finally - use for packing your toothbrush, pants and wetwipes in, tying to the end of a long stick and leaving home to seek your fortune.


 Spikey has left the building.x

                            

Cyclothymia? On Yer Bike.

Bipolar poetry-that'll be a laugh!

Spikey's feeling rather odd
Bipolar really is a SOD!
I can't get on
I can't unwind
In between the two
My mind.

Tripping over
bodies of
unfinished projects...
Half a job

Brilliant schemes
forgotten why
I started them
on mania high

meditation or medication?
I sit here doing neither
But writing to you
Dear Reader

Are you doing nothing or either?

eBaying The Rules (Dear Ms Zeta Jones)

Foreword: eBaying the rules follows this short announcement.

Dear Catherine,
I really feel that I should write a topical post about my bipolarity, to reassure you, to raise awareness and to publicise the blog. But I can't...
And I can't because for the past few days, I've been FRIKKIN' FREAKING OUT about it myself!!!!



So, you'll have to read the previous 17 posts and in the meantime, here's my advice on  how to be successful on eBay.

eBaying the Rules

SELLING

My advice for selling on eBay is roughly the same as my advice for having a car boot sale - if you decide to get rid, get rid.  The price is almost inconsequential... but there are a few things to bear in mind..

Personally, I would never stick a ‘no reserve’ tag on an item or even a first bid of 99p because in all likelihood, it will go for 99p and cost you more to post  than you’ll have gained. When calculating profit, the entrepreneur needs to factor in the amount of petrol/shoe leather it costs to take it to the Post Office.

In my case, once I have walked down to save on fuel, I normally find myself in the need of a vanilla latte and a bun. In real terms, this means that I have gained calories and operated at a pecuniary loss. Beware, dear reader, if not from my experience then from the size of my hips.

Adopt the 3 strikes and out rule. If it doesn’t sell after a week, relist it. It just takes 1 click and often all you need is to be in the right place at the right time. eBay often hosts weekends where they list items for free and if, after 3 weeks, it hasn’t sold then give it to a charity shop. Do remember that both eBay and PayPal (the preferred method for payment through the site) take a cut of the final value.  There are links to PayPal on the eBay website

I always find that in selling, it’s best to have a final goal in mind. I once allowed myself a week’s holiday in San Francisco house-sitting if I managed to ‘eBay’ the fare together. This brings me to my next point; don’t spend the money accrued in the account by bidding on other ‘stuff’!  You really don’t need it, whatever it is!!  Again (and it’s the same for car boot sales) don’t sell your old horse-hair wigs in order to bring home someone else’s hot water bottle!  

It’s my gambling rule... Have the money you are prepared to lose in one pocket and put all the winnings in the other pocket. Never confuse the pockets as it’ll end with you scratching your head, saying “I am sure I had it a minute ago” whilst the love of your life disappears round the corner with someone who has accrued the air fare to San Francisco.

ALWAYS but always describe the item correctly-even down to that last missing button or faint scratch on the casing. Your Ebay status depends on your getting positive feedback from your customers and although they might buy  ‘imperfect’ if they know of it beforehand, something arriving through the post that was not as it was described, will land you in eBay negativity. Everyone can see (through the star and percentage rating system) who has tried to pull a fast one. I avoid buying from anyone with a feedback score of below 97.5%.  Do not bill PVC bomber jackets as Italian leather lest you wake to find a horse’s head in your inbox.

Display 3 clear photos of your item wherever possible as it proves that you are hiding nothing. The site makes it very easy for anyone who can download photos to their computer, to start selling. It guides you through each short step.

When selling large items, such as furniture, it’s always best to make absolutely clear in the item description that it’s ‘Local Pick Up Only’. This is eBay speak for ‘Fetch it yourself’. There are two reasons for this; first of all the cost of delivery makes it prohibitively expensive to buy (and you need to give postage costs in advance) and secondly, if you don’t then people assume you’ll post it to them for free. Indeed, unless you state otherwise, they may have a case.

Each of my children had grown up around my dining room table; they learned how to manage cutlery whilst seated at it, stuck-and-glued upon it and blew out birthday candles round it. When I sold it, the young couple who bought it on eBay simply walked round from the next street and carried it home, one at either end, where our farmhouse table will see another young family through their rites of passage.

 I find that a comforting thought . x                                .

I'll try to be good at being bipolar again in a day or so.