Are the voices in my head too loud for you?

Corner Questioned

Jp:

What I hadn't realised when I wrote yesterday was that Jane had increased her Diazepam (this is allowed) so that she could maintain her concentration for reading the tutor-to-be s book.  Today, without the Diaz effect, things have returned to much where they were before.  I had not appreciated the degree or the effects that particular drug has on her.

So I don't honestly think a corner has been reached, let alone turned, as I was indicating yesterday.  Very disappointing: I have been expecting two steps forward, one back, but I'm afraid the apparent improvement was purely the effects of the drug.

Tomorrow Jane is planning to try an exercise with Rainbow (Guide Dog) in Inverness to see how she feels with him, and also how responsive he is: he hasn't done any real 'guiding' for some months.  Her intention is start from outside the centre of town and go inwards 'til she feels the need to return.  We shall see how it goes.

Picture this evening: Teazle (cat) lying on our bed with four legs in the air, eyes shut, purring, and Jane stroking his tummy.   Also present on the bed: Dido (Golden Retriever), Mungo (Collie) and me.

A Quiet Day

Jp:

Jane has been offered a place on a creative writing course through the auspices of the hospital.  One of the tutors on the course has written a book which Jane has spent the day reading so that she is as prepared as she can be; the course starts on Sat 1st.

The fact that Jane feels able to attend the course at all seems a very positive sign although, at the risk of sounding like a typical 'carer', who may not actually want the 'caree' to recover (because of loss of supposed status), I hope she doesn't try and push herself to do fresh things too quickly.

Otherwise  - all is well!

Another Corner!

It's Jp.

Something has moved, we're not quite sure what, but it is good.

The corner which Jane has come round doesn't have a definite form but it may be something to do with the fact that Rainbow, her Guide Dog, may be approaching retirement.  (He was the youngest dog to qualify, using a much more gentle approach to training, at 14 months.)  He's now eight and, although he has had a fairly gentle life, it seems that he is losing his 'edge',  possibly because he has had a gentle life, for a Guide Dog, but it means that Jane no longer has the complete confidence in him that is essential for her safety.

Jane has now had a discussion with the G.D. trainer and he is aware of Jane's various requirements of a dog, primarily that it needs to be physically large so that it can cut across her and stop her in her tracks; Rainbow is a bit on the small side for this task.  However, before one can take on a new dog you have to re-train, either at a training centre or at home.  In any event it is a goal which seems to be providing a fresh focus, which is excellent.

Overall, it has been a good day, especially since a very old family friend has found this blog and sent emails of encouragement to Jane.  She was delighted, excited and very moved.  I have been regaled with various hilarious reminiscences as a result.  Thank you!

Another Corner!

It's Jp.

Something has moved, we're not quite sure what, but it is good.

The corner which Jane has come round doesn't have a definite form but it may be something to do with the fact that Rainbow, her Guide Dog, may be approaching retirement.  (He was the youngest dog to qualify, using a much more gentle approach to training, at 14 months.)  He's now eight and, although he has had a fairly gentle life, it seems that he is losing his 'edge',  possibly because he has had a gentle life, for a Guide Dog, but it means that Jane no longer has the complete confidence in him that is essential for her safety.

Jane has now had a discussion with the G.D. trainer and he is aware of Jane's various requirements of a dog, primarily that it needs to be physically large so that it can cut across her and stop her in her tracks; Rainbow is a bit on the small side for this task.  However, before one can take on a new dog you have to re-train, either at a training centre or at home.  In any event it is a goal which seems to be providing a fresh focus, which is excellent.

Overall, it has been a good day, especially since a very old family friend has found this blog and sent emails of encouragement to Jane.  She was delighted, excited and very moved.  I have been regaled with various hilarious reminiscences as a result.  Thank you!

Another Day

Jp:

It has been 'another' day, with Jane painting and then sleeping, watching some television, and going to bed.

Again, Jane is worrying about her therapy session tomorrow; again, she cannot identify her concern.  She likes her therapist and is afraid that she (J) is disappointing her (frustrating and letting her down) by not getting better.  She is still not able to think more of herself (in both senses), and what she needs - for herself.  Jane is also aware that these feelings are to some extent symptomatic of her illness.

I wish there was more that was positive to report but at present it seems to be very much a case of 'more of the same'.  Jane's review is on the 26th, at which it is hoped that we will learn more about the future process.

The various animals continue in good form and assist Jane by their presence, appearing by her side as if by magic when she is in need of close company and I am not around.  Sixth sense . . . . don't knock it.

Wretched Day

Jp:

The title is Jane's phrase for today which describes how she is feeling.

Yesterday Jane announced that she wasn't going back to the Therapy Unit.  (She had an appointment for this morning.)  Why?  Because nothing was happening (no apparent improvement) and she was taking resources that could be used for someone else.  What's the point?  She has spent the day in bed.

Jane didn't go to the hosptal this morning but did speak to her therapist: she has made a further appointment.

There is a lot about doing things for other people, living up to their expectations, working hard to please her therapist and seeming to be better; but underneath she is beginning to say that this doesn't feel as if it were true.  Although she wants to be better, not only for her own sake but also for other people's sake, she doesn't think any improvement has actually taken place.  She has presented as improving to please other people but doesn't feel it is genuine in herself.

Kind people have telephoned today but she is unable to speak to them, I think because she finds their concern emotionally difficult to respond to.  She is uncertain at present who 'Jane' is.

Tomorrow is another day.

A Rotten Day

Jp:

Not at all a good day; very down and sad and busy beating herself up metaphorically; day spent in bed or sitting on the edge of the bed; not able to raise interest at all.

This evening a large, full, plastic bottle of Heinz Tomato Ketchup fell from the fridge door when I opened it, and burst upon hitting the tiled floor. . . . it said it all.  Blood and gore.

We are anticpating a better day tomorrow.

Good thing: Jane held Nutmeg (doe rabbit); apparently N enjoyed watching Strictly Come Dancing.

Not so good: the rest of the day!

Not a Good Day

It's Jp.

Jane had a poor start this morning, although with good intentions.  She eventually got up and continued painting the picture she is presently working on: this is a somewhat different picture to those she has produced so far in that it contains elements of her past, and in creating the painting some of the memories and experiences have re-emerged.  This has left her in a sometimes anxious, sometimes sad state and she retired to bed.

Which is why it's me - she felt unable to write this evening.

Reading her past blogs and talking to her about them I sometimes feel that she writes in a more upbeat way than she really feels inside: she acknowledges that this is sometimes the case.  In her present state it can be very difficult to tell it exactly as it is, which is what she has been trying to do.  Sometimes my sense of events is that she is actually lower in spirits than she presents in her writing.  She is often completely drained once it has been posted.

She has spoken today of perhaps going over to Braeside tomorrow (Sunday) if she is not feeling rather better in the morning.

We shall see.

Happy Diwali

Down day today.  Bounced my morning routine about getting up etc... anxious and feeling mentally slow.  Watched News 24 and watched all the footage of Pakistan as it happened.  I was gripped, but politically deeply concerned about what I was watching, just who is pulling whose strings?  It is in the USA's interests to have someone in power who will work with their images of terrorism.  I suspect Brown can't take Bush seriously - and there is a distancing - but that doesn't mean that many countries in the EU do not share serious economic and other opportunities.  The picture of women being slapped and man-handled by the police was horrific.  I wanted to do something to support and show solidarity - but there are some big hints in the footage that things are exceptionally well staged to favour an overthrow,  I wonder what the opposite story is?  Who has inconveniently stopped co-operating anymore with whom?

Got up and painted but the hand shaking was depressing and the wet weather has returned pain and swelling to the wrist and metacarpal I fractured earlier in the year.  The pain and lack of grip was unbelievable.  I paint with both hands and when one gets shaky I use the other.  I stopped painting when my partner and I had our break together and watched an episode of West Wing.  I don't know whether it was the accident  flashback which immediately tensed me, or the frustration of feeling I am slipping backwards again, but I was feeling like a gibbering wreck and agreed with my partner that it would be OK if I went back to bed.  I was all over the place, mean voice did the verbal equivalent of a Highland Jig in my brain and I asked if I could have a Diaz.  We agreed to wait half an hour and see if I could settle myself with a warm bed and some company.  Diaz - and sleep.  It calmed me and I slept deep and long - about three hours.  Night sleep is still not that settled - so this was bliss.  The warm embrace of relaxed muscles and no physical agitation.  It didn't take much, but I haven't taken them for a while.

The pain in my hand is providing a physical reminder and feeding this inner sense that the illness gives me of anxiety and inadequacy; that I can't trust myself to go out alone or do things by myself - let alone for myself.   The painting is the nearest I have come to releasing my anger on the world.

I'd like to think it was a no score draw today but truth to tell I lost the plot and even now as I write don't really feel anything much matters.  If the feeling gets any worse I or my partner will phone the hospital or the charity Breathing Space.  Sometimes just talking it through and being reminded it is a part of the illness is all I need.  Sometimes I need 'permission' rather more formally to alter medication for a day or two.  It's the shakes that contribute to the sense of helplessness but also I am aware just how vigilant I am.  LIstening out for my mum coughing away.  Wondering where my partner is.  Checking the dogs.  Looking for the cat or cats.

Now the weather is consistently cool and ughie at night, Nutmeg comes in doors to her night hutch.  She usually has a cuddle and a TV watch on the sofa with me before she settles for the night.  I remembered last night as we communed that she and two other rabbits were bought as I moved into a depressive episode six years ago.  Lavender and Clover have since died - but Nutmeg seems to be still going strong.  I had forgotten how much I love just sitting with her.  She is fun in a basically large rabbit sort of a way.  she knows exactly what she wants and she gets it.

Feel I am very fragile and negative so I'm off...

Happy Diwali.

Jane 1 Mean Voice 0

Something of a battle today as my anxiety has been high.  Although I have no regrets about ceasing to use the Diazapam as they were no longer in any real sense effective - my solar plexus has felt as though a large cement mixer has been imported and is rolling round and round; swirling and grumbling. 

I managed to stay to my schedule though and got up at a reasonable time.  My partner and I have talked a lot about meeting with the person we saw yesterday and are reflecting on what has been said to us.  Both our moods are reflective and my partner is very tired.  He has had a migraine today which is a sure sign he is over-doing it.  You can imagine my huge emotional self-beating up about still not doing much and not wanting to do much which takes me away from painting and a very still, uninterrupted, predictable day.  I went to pieces for a bit - but we sat together and had a joint duvet moment and I suspect both dozed momentarily as we watched The Dog Whisperer.  Not only were we snoozing; we looked across and Bertie (Cuthbert) our cat was asleep on the Bishop's Chair;  three dogs curled up and asleep on the other sofa - and Jo (collie) asleep in his basket.

While I paint I can to some degree control the anxiety - but as I grew tired this afternoon, I realised I had probably painted for about five hours today in all - mean voice leapt into action and reduced me to a snuffling wimp by suggesting the picture was rubbish and I should just paint over it.  My abstracts are better apparently - up until that moment I hadn't known her views.  Worst of all was the power of her strike, it took a huge effort not to self sabbotage badly at this point.  Duvet time with my partner and The Dog Whisperer was the least destructive of many thoughts going through my head.

The strategies for lowering agitation do help as does distraction, but once I am tired I seem to have little or no defences.

Terribly concerned about the floods in East Anglia.  I remember folk when I was a Curate and Vicar in Suffolk recalling the devastation of the flood of 1953 and the loss of life - not to mention property.  The gales have been powerful here too today.  Nutmeg (rabbit) was brought in as the wind really began to build around lunchtime and watched TV with me on the sofa while I had my usual bagel lunch.  All the dogs came over to say hello - Bertie didn't even bother to wake up.  I suppose Nutmeg didn't smell like a real, wild rabbit.  She has spent most of the afternoon lying flat out in her single storey indoor hutch in the utility room.

Irony of ironies, our boiler died this morning -  the coldest and windiest day of the year so far - and we had to dust off the convectors and keep warm that way.  Bless our boiler man, he had to head over to the West and promised to come tomorrow and then called to say he had finished his job early and would come and 'do' us on the way home.  Life-saver - sitting still and painting, my fingers were freezing.  My mum, who lives with us, wasn't affected too badly as she has her electric heater on with the central heating all the time.  Again not moving about much, she needs to stay warm.

I feel as though I have little choice but to continue to listen to my brain and body and work at the pace they are comfortable with, but I'd be lying if I didn't say it feels frustratingly and at times humiliating that the progress makes a tortoise look athletic, I would be lying, I hate the speed of the progress but I know there is real improvement. 

I am practising being more body aware and relaxing parts when they become tense or agitated.  My partner has traded some points and bought me an outrageous selection of The Sanctuary shower products - the big multi-national one - not the one here!   I started with one this morning and now have a choice of three for my showers.  It has helped make a difficult part of the day - playful in a way.  It was a clever move.  We are getting into a routine.  It's not 7am to 11pm - but I am now 'expected to be awake by 9am' and I try to be up and about by 10.30am at the latest.

No very dark thoughts since Monday which is wonderful; no counting of chickens etc...  But I am pleased.  I started self-harming some weeks ago to relieve the head torment.  The constant pain and inner dialogue of dispiriting self-destruction.  I cut my arms and I would never have believed the level of relief it is possible to achieve when I was in that 'zone' and at the level of debilitation where I felt out of body, in the sense that my body felt dislocated and unimportant.  It provided an extraordinary sense of power when I felt so utterly hopeless.

I've never had much empathy with cutters before - I've always satisfied my own edginess with picking the skin off my fingers until it constantly flakes.  The cuts are healing - as long as I resist picking.  Again I am proud that I have two big bandages and I wear them from wrist to elbow to reduce the risk in the night, especially when I waken from a nightmare or suddenly feel the negative need to reinforce how imperfect I am.

I feel relaxed about the process.  It's not attention-seeking but rather tension-relieving.  I think it is also a very powerful visual signal to me not to go further and to remind me that I do still under the surface know this illness will take a while to work through.  The best of news is that unlike Schizophrenia, I am suffering a mental illness but I am not mentally ill.  This is something I will get over; and learn about - just like a diabetic spots when they need to get advice about re-balancing their insulin - I will know when to get some help because the symptoms are reappearing.  Just like a diabetic going under - it maybe that those who know me well may notice I need help a lot quicker than I do.  When I am discharged I will name people who will have that power in a sense to tell me to stop punishing myself and get off my butt and see my Community Psychiatric Nurse.  It is sensible and he's lovely.

Funnily enough I am remarkably compliant when people tell me I need to get support.  I just have to overcome, each and everytime, the sense of shame.

Good things today:

Cuthbert sleeping in while the dogs snoozed and I painted.

Duvet time with my partner on the sofa.

Nutmeg time.

The strategies.

Bad things:

Dwelling on the past.

Stumped a bit over my hospital homework.

All in all - Jane 1,  Mean Voice 0.