Trial By Trimphone

Never did finish all those words. Just did the 750. Ah well, the best laid plans are just a way of teasing yourself.
The bipolar rat bit me in the again last week and the week before.

I had several days of staring vacantly at the TV, thinking that the noise and sound hurt my head but somehow remaining magnetised to it and constantly eating junk food. I did not even contemplate my Comfort Box (new readers can catch up from the archives, this is NOT a Deep Throat situation)

Let's see! From now on, I think we can accept that 'Going a bit Funny' follows triggers and I like to think of these triggers as  allergies. F'r instance, I am often allergic to alcohol and so can go a bit funny with unsuitable young servicemen  or other folks' husbands.

Hence, I am now teetotal. I'm not sure exactly how long I have been teetotal but I think it's in the region of 5 weeks, 31 hours and 47 minutes, broadly speaking. I do not think I feel any different at all and am not craving alcohol, although I seem to be eating an awful lot of grapes!

Anyway, I have recently rediscovered that I am currently allergic to my friend and neighbour. She knows something is up and so keeps turning up with all sorts of excuses; I assume it's (a) to catch the allergy unawares by sneaking up behind it, or (b) to try to issue a vaccine surreptitiously.........  Dream sequence follows this image accompanied by harp music


 " What would that shell suit look like with the sleeve rolled up to where your tattoo of the barbed wire starts?" 


"It looks like this, Dear Friend and Neighbour"

Then thwack! It would be in with the hypodermic and we would be back singing 'The Road to Amarillo'  before you can order half a cider and Babycham.

Or (3)  it's to get to the bottom of stuff without asking or saying anything relevant.

I'll hazard a guess she's plumped for option 3. You don't have to be Poirot.

Unfortunately, despite my intention to explain - without causing offence - that the allergy is caused by a similarity in my child hood experiences and her current situation, the moment  that I see her, all the energy drains out through my feet and I feel exhausted, confused and panicky and just cannot wait for her to leave. I am down like a skittle.
I then have to spend the rest of the day comatose and pray that the next day is better.

Fortunately, it usually is. Unfortunately, she invariably pops round again with some flimsy excuse from her Getting-to-the-bottom-of-things-without-conversation Battle Plan, and we all go round the merry-go-round once more.
I would write her a letter to explain but letters bring her out in hives - that's something to do with her own childhood. I s'pose I could call, but I am 98% sure that the allergy has no respect for telephonic boundaries, and if there's anything worse than a face to face meeting without saying anything, it's not saying anything by telephone.
My Grandad used to do that (before he died, obviously)

Brrp, brrrp!  ( It's a trim phone)

"Ahhhh!" I'd hear him state

" Grandad?"

 silence.............

"Grandad?...... Are you there?"

silence ...... then..............a bit more silence....................

"Grandad, you phoned me!"

How much worse would it have been if I hadn't answered him!
Any ideas, received with gratitude.

Bloggeration!

This bipolar business is a bit sneaky. It plays tricks on you. I am this Monday, marvelling at its sneakiness and having a giggle. It's tried to pull a fast one, but there aren't many flies on me! To be fair, there are some, but there aren't many.

I have been to Brighton! 
(That's not the sneaky part- I knew  I was going, it wasn't a delusion or anything)

Anyway, free at last, I began to write down some thoughts for a blog on the way down, creativity had been lacking of late  and certainly a couple of blog entries were so shoe-horned that I removed them completely afterwards in shame. So, I was delighted to see the muse returning. I had been so enjoying my Buddhism classes, that I wanted some time to think about them since I had gone from hating it on Week 1, to finding it ridiculous but curiously comforting on Week 2, to loving it on Week 3. I was also STILL reading 'Eat, Pray, Love' by Elizabeth Gilbert (third time it has been renewed at the library) which is filled with Meditation and religion and the search for inner quietitude. I can't wait till I get to the Javier Bardem bit!  Tbh, I had virtually decided, that I could be a non believing, all embracing buddhist if it was going to find me a bit of peace and allowing myself that, brought enormous waves of relief -a tsunami of a plan.      

I seem to have spent most of my adult life denying myself a religion because of stigmas and rules and common sense and and and.... What I am now coming to believe is that religion of any sort (even a dedication to the healing power of stilettos perhaps) is a way of bringing peace to a life and I was beginning to feel that, this weekend, everything was converging and I was keen to discover all that I could. I could feel myself rushing towards pseudo-Buddhism like coming home. I was desperate to get there. As Harry says to Sally in the iconic film "Once you know you want to spend the rest of your life with someone (something in my case) you want that life to begin as soon as possible."

So, whilst I was away, I kept the comfort of my new wisdom with me, still having beers and milkshakes and seeing a concert that will stay with me for the rest of my life for reasons I may lay down in another blog : I gossiped, I lusted a little and all the while, felt this desire to rush toward calm water with open arms and felt that the day was coming.
On the way home the following day, I uttered my chant to Tare, the mother buddha, "Om Tare, Tu Tare, Tare Soha" whilst mentally asking for blessings. Suddenly, I found myself exactly in the same place in that train, same people in front and behind, but speeding through space and time with everyone else in my carriage. I could see clearly that we were all heading in the same direction on life's journey at that particular moment and that we were hurtling, quite safely through time and space and life, whilst simultaneously passing through the Home Counties; trees and housing passed by us at speed. I didn't think I was in a void. I'm not nuts!
 Later on, I listened to some music that usually invokes emotion in me and I felt it so clearly. I felt it in colour and with every nerve end in my body;  then I asked for Tare's blessings and once more hurtled through the universe in my train, the conductor checking tickets to the truth that lies beyond. I didn't feel scared in the least -quite the opposite. These episodes lasted only seconds at a time, but I found  great peace and comfort in staring down the carriage thereafter. This religion thing was going to work for me.

Between changing trains, I sat down to record some of it but my pen couldn't write quickly enough. I decided to give myself a break and to read back over the (physical and mental) journey I'd travelled in 24 hours. I began with the first paragraph, written yesterday, 9.40 am.
" On a train to Brighton. Just had caffeine in the form of a skinny latte.I just thought 'bugger it! (I no longer allow myself caffeine normally) There must be 2 or 3 expressos in it. Hope it's OK".  Then there followed discussion of my new found faith in faith which contained the sentences,  "Religion is the essence of humanity. I can feel the euphoria building of what is to come."

BINGO!!  That medium-sized word, euphoria. I knew in that instance that I wasn't having a religious experience at all, I was entering a manic state. Told you it was sneaky! It hides itself in all sorts of guises and now the terrible thirst that I have had for the last week and the pain in my shoulder blade, that I assumed was lung cancer, but in reality is my age old tension spot brought on when I start clenching my jaw and grinding my teeth, register themselves in my consciousness.  So, it seems that these depression flags are present before mania too. Interesting!

I had a bit of fun with it later, I pushed the boundaries to see how far I could go before reigning it in and I had a lovely day if I am being honest. I listened to music that touched every sense in my body, I danced,

 I laughed, I felt the wonder of life.
I spilled over with every emotion expressed in the music as I channelled the essence of the musician.

 Every couple of songs, I'd put on a slow one to bring me down a little before cranking it back up. I do feel bad for those who cannot feel in colour; whose bodies cannot hum with the joy of being alive, with hope and wonder and beauty. Who do not feel, really feel with every fibre of their being.It is awesome.
I have that ability. I don't want to let it go. Maybe I don't have to, I just have to learn to integrate it better and I need to look after myself during these phases as much as during my depression. I need to get out my comfort box and tend to myself like a mother. In fact, I'll do that now.
                                                             

Blog Off!

I worked on the most enormous blog entry yesterday (that's 3 Innuendo Bingo points Paula!) and I just can't bring myself to post it.
I read and reread it and there's nothing wrong with it per se. It's just a bit ....whatsit. You see, I'm not even sure what being a bit whatsit entails.

                     I'd say it rambles but it doesn't really. It doesn't go off piste.          


'Talking Trollops' gives some valid points, it weighs up the arguments but somehow it doesn't feel right. It's informative but not very entertaining.

I think it's because I set out trying to write something about the topic de jour- 'Talking about Mental Illness' when what I really wanted to tell you was that I'd been punting up the Cam. None of these people are me.

And I was excited that my 2 favourite Australian Bloggers had responded to my tweets and comments
.http://www.woogsworld.com/2011/04/honourable-mention.html
http://catep36.blogspot.com/2011/04/story-of-easter-according-to-two-pissed.html

  And I'd just been sent the most stunning version of Roy Orbison's 'You Got It'.  Its beauty made me cry..an amazing gift.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tvtC1Nf-KvI&feature=related

And I didn't really want to talk about being bipolar 'cos I'd just been to a Meditation shop  (recommended by my therapist) and been told that I shouldn't be meditating at all as it was dangerous  for me to go  further into Golightlyland, when what I should be doing is learning how to cope with life.
There was a look of grave concern and heartfelt sympathy on her face that made me want to kick her head in. I  used to work in social services and never saw an honest-to-goodness do-gooder in the 10 years I was there. I've seen one now and it ain't pretty. It gives you rosacea.

Grudgingly, I have to admit that I had wondered myself whether it would be wise to head for Enlightenment when a milestone of that journey is a feeling of euphoria and light radiating from your solar plexus which builds until you have enough power and love rising within you to blow your fucking head off.


Well - to be frank - I've been there,done that, got enough T-shirts for Arsenal to play in, and I'm not allowed back.
  Not without Oprah.


I do find the irony quite delicious that I meditate away from the euphoria of madness, whilst half the world actively seeks it by doing the same. Priceless!

Anyway, to paraphrase my local Buddhist nun-I'm getting above myself if I think that I'm even going to find the bus stop to Enlightenment by meditating every alternate Wednesday, excluding holidays.
Phew, what a relief!

But the whole meditation shop scenario made me think about my blog. For the first time since my diagnosis, I can see that not EVERYTHING needs to be about being bipolar. I need not try so hard nor make everything relevant to it.
 Now here's a phrase I read in my Bipolar handbook 'I am not defined by it. It is only part of who I am'.
 At the time, I thought 
Of course you must be defined by something that controls you.'
Now I am not so sure.

 My ruddy-faced friend was right about something. Being bipolar is about an inability to cope with life and I find that that particular definition diffuses the fear.
I can learn to cope with life. I just have to retrain. I am not a patient.

       I am a student

When I started this entry, I was going to end by saying that I'd write 2 blogs but each one less frequently.
One on being biopolar and the other with day to day observations. People would know what to expect from each of them.
Now I'm thinking   'Sod It! Take Me or Leave Me!"'


(Actually, can I just qualify this by saying that I really need you not to leave me as an anonymous blog cannot be publicised down the usual routes).                              
                                                                                     Cheers!

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.