As someone with manic depression, I can certify that the one and only "cure" is a good dose of Bono medication. Who the hell needs Zoloft when you have something like "Walk On"?
Get your guitar and start playing like there is no tomorrow......
You're packing a suitcase for a place none of us has been A place that has to be believed to be seen You could have flown away A singing bird in an open cage Who will only fly, only fly for freedom
More things in life are also "better than therapy"
Sunday, July 08, 2007
Going off-topic for a moment, I often get asked to explain the title of this blog and it's quite simple really. For those of who who don't know me on an intimate level, I have epilepsy and manic depression. The epilepsy has been around like an unruly relative outstaying her welcome since 1988 and the manic depression burst out in 2002 after God knows how many years lying in dormant wait.
When I had my breakdown in 2002, I went through various forms of medical treatment - first off was invariably the pills (LOTS of them) and then came therapy sessions which were basically forced upon me by a health insurance company trying to protect their profit margin, growing alarmed at my mounting medical bills. But therapy in the end wasn't for me. I hold the mental health profession in the highest of respect but some people just don't take to therapy. Others find it beneficial and others find it a total waste of time. I belong to the latter group. The therapist tried hard but really he only ended up making things worse. But I was obliged to do all 24 sessions as prescribed by the insurance company. In the end, I only did 23 and then walked away. Maybe missing the last one was a small act of rebellion on my part or maybe I just didn't have the time and inclination. Who knows and who cares 4 years on?
As treatment options faded for me, I was told that in all probability I would have to deal with the illnesses on their own. That I would have to find some way of reconciling myself to a life of hardship and suffering and one doctor told me to only do things in life that gave me pleasure. That way, if I was doing something I enjoyed, that at least would partly blunt the brutal effects of the depression & epilepsy symptoms (which by this time were inextricably linked). He advised me to find some hobbies and pleasurable pursuits. He urged me to decide what I was passionate about and then throw myself right into it without thinking about it. It was good advice.
I realised at that point that computers were my main passion. Up until 2001, I only had a passing knowledge of them but when I moved to Germany in 2001, my girlfriend's brother introduced me to computers and the internet. I discovered software programs that thrilled me with what they could do. I fervently monitored the rapid development of the internet and how it was able to influence our lives for good or for worse. I realised that my passion for writing would be helped by starting to write blogs like this one, and I realised that the internet could connect me with fellow epilepsy & depression sufferers as well as being a source of information for the latest advances in medical research in psychiatry and neurology. Then I started to learn HTML and I got my own domain. I am currently starting to study Microsoft Access to learn how to build databases.
In short, I realised that the time I spent in front of the computer and learning new things is much better than a therapy session. For when I learn something new and build something new, that achievement boosts my ego. It makes me realise that I can do anything if I put my mind to it. So when I was thinking of a title for this blog last year, there really was only one title in the running!
But I have other passions apart from computers and the internet - I love to collect stamps (my grandad has been collecting for 60 years and it gives me immense pride to continue the family tradition). I collect books, I collect banknotes & coins, and my other passion is my family. For years I slowly drifted apart from them but my health problems have made me realise that family can be better than medication, that blood really is thicker than water. I try to connect with them as often as possible, contacting relatives who haven't heard from me in a long time and allowing them to make me feel better in ways that compulsory therapy never could.
So as well as writing about computer issues, I would like to diverge a little now and then and write about other things that I am passionate about. The latest stamps I have found, the latest coins I have picked up and the latest books I am reading. For all these things really are better than therapy.
Here I am trying as hard as I can to claw my way back to having a life. The going is tough and at times I can't make it but I am trying my best nonetheless.
Those of you with manic depression yourself will understand what I am talking about. You start at the bottom of the big black hole (or as I call it, "BSL" - Below Sea Level) and one day while you are struggling to focus on life's daily priorities, like waking up and doing something productive, you decide suddenly that you want to give yourself a good kick up the rear and get moving (one of those uplifting inspirational moments). Suddenly, the groaning corpse-like lump on the bed (that's me) shoots off the mattress in a sudden flurry of energy scaring the crap out of everyone else in the room. I run around the house for a while cleaning up, answering emails, doing work, humming the tune to Rocky's "Eye of the Tiger" and then suddenly, the energy is gone and I slump back onto the bed again, all corpse-like. Meanwhile, the others in the room are looking at one another saying "well that's him for the day! We won't get a peep out of him until tomorrow now!"
The life of a manic depressive. How it sucks.
I do try to get up on a regular basis though as I am trying to work through the illness. I try my hardest to meet my obligations and commitments and I am blessed by the fact that I work fast. So when I feel kind of OK, like now, I can work extremely fast and I can fit a day's work into a couple of hours. It's this talent that allows me to hold down a job and make some money. I am trying to get a hospital appointment as soon as possible so I can request that I go back to an old medication called Zoloft. The current medication is making me too tired and Zoloft isn't exactly perfect but it is the best of the whole lot.
For me, life is all about compromises and making the best of a bad situation. Things can never be perfect due to the depression so I need to lower my standards and aim a little lower in life. I have to find a place where I am comfortable with how things are and I have to take great care not to put myself in a situation where I can be disappointed or hurt. If I can manage all that, I normally do just fine.
I've basically been limping along this week with no clear purpose in mind and not much has been done. The epilepsy has calmed down for the moment but the depression has come back for a repeat visit. Whenever someone asks me what it is like to have depression, I tell them to imagine their most hated relative coming to visit uninvited. They come into your house, take over the whole place, start criticising you, they start to take charge of every aspect of your life....then when they are becoming truly obnoxious, you start to wonder when they're leaving but you haven't got the guts to ask. Then suddenly one morning they're gone and you have peace and solitude again. A few days later, they return and it all starts again....
For me, the "relative" is the depression.
But I can be thankful that I can still work to a certain degree. I got some new writing assignments this week and I managed to get them done and sent back fairly quickly and the pay wasn't bad either for the time I put into the work. Even in the worst of the depression, the writing skills don't seem to leave. In fact, the writing skills become more honed and clearly defined. My fingers move faster across the keys and thoughts race through my head. I can sometimes say that a depressive episode is one of my most creative moments. The bad part is finding the energy to stop hiding under the bedcovers and do some work. But that area is slowly improving too these days. I am finding it a little easier to motivate myself.
I was reading a book about depression, The Lost Soul Companion, in which it said that a lot of creative people suffered from depression and it speculated that the reason for the depression was that the person had a creative bent to their personality and it is the creative DNA makeup of the person that somehow triggers depression. Perhaps it is the numerous rejections that creative people get (I can relate to that), or society looking down their noses at the person's "alternative lifestyle" or family harassing them to "get a proper job". Or perhaps the depression person feels that their creative talents are not properly recognised and appreciated by the rest of the world? I don't know if all of that is 100% true but you have to admit that an inordinately high number of writers, poets, artists, playwrights, etc, have suffered from depression. Just look at Vincent Van Gogh - all that talent, all that work that he did (which I love looking at) and in the end, he shot himself. Or if you want a more modern-day example, take Sylvia Plath or Virginia Woolf. All committed suicide and passed before their time on earth was properly up. Reason : depression.
Now that's not to say that ALL depressed people are suicidal - I'm not. I just have my shitty days and I get through them by closing down the hatches and escaping to bed with a few good books and the TV remote control. Then on my good days, I work at full speed and get through my work backlog. That's all I can do. Medication is spotty at best and the doctors have basically told me this is the best it's going to get. But some depressed people can't cope at all and in the end it all gets too much for them so they go searching for a release or a way out. I thank my blessings that I am not at that extreme stage of things. At least I can still function properly, work and be productive.
German people here seem to be fascinated by the current saga about Tony Blair - the "will he resign or won't he?" fiasco. I've had German friends quiz me relentlessly on the ins and outs and who the possible contenders will be and why Blair has to resign anyway and so on. In the almost 6 years I have lived in Würzburg, this is the most interest I have seen in British politics from a German. Today I had a shopkeeper quiz me on it while I was buying a baguette. And to answer the one question every German has asked me - NO, I don't want Gordon Brown to be the new Prime Minister. Yes, he's Scottish but that doesn't guarantee my immediate support. I firmly believe that if Brown wants the job he has to fight for it. There should be no coronation, no ass kissing....there has to be a debate on the issues, other people have to be allowed to compete for the job and may the best man (or woman) win.
Even though I am a conservative, I am still attracted to the idea of another Scotsman, John Reid, winning the Labour Party leadership and therefore Downing Street. Reid is the Home Secretary but he has been in lots of other government departments such as Northern Ireland and Health. He's what you would call the Party's "thug". If you want a no-nonsense sharp intelligent "takes no crap" kind of guy to stick up for the government, send in John Reid. He eats journalists for breakfast and has the look of a bulldog, bearing its fangs ready to attack. If Tony Blair looks like the cover model for "Pretty Boys Monthly", Reid is the cover model for "Brutes United!". A Prime Minister Reid would sit very well with me actually. I abhor Blair and everything he stands for but I wouldn't be so averse to John Reid claiming the crown. He wouldn't cozy up to Bush like Blair has done. I really believe that Reid would speak his mind and that is something we sorely need in the US-British relationship.
The problem with Brown is that nothing would change. Foreign policy would remain the same for starters and Brown supports many of Blair's other policies. The only thing that would change would be the style and substance of a Brown administration. Less flashy git and more dour Scotsman!
