Month: November 2006

What happened to the good stuff?

The last two months have brought substantial changes to my life, and to my view of the world. I am in flux, in change, in limbo. Evelyn Rodriguez of Crossroads Dispatches went through a similar phase lately.

The society we live in is driven by disruption, change, atomization. When you actually translate these messages, they are simply new ways of saying “buy more stuff”.

I don’t need more stuff. Given some of the plans we have for the next 12-18 months, we need less stuff; or at least more portable stuff.

And if you want disruption and atomization, live inside my mind for a day. The internal chaos of my mind that I am trying to understand is disruptive enough without having to absorb the external chaos people want to bring to my life. So I crave external calm.

The written word, on paper. The beauty in a photograph. The smell of the woods.

My life has been dictated by achieving the ephemeral, in a world completely addicted to “change for change’s sake”.

I’m tired of keeping up. So I am consciously falling behind. Life is finite, ephemeral. Stuff doesn’t matter.

Change doesn’t matter.

People matter.

Walk away from the technology for a day, a week. Live with yourself.

It’s been a revelation to me.

Ummmm….Focus?

Apparently the fog is getting thicker in here. My neuro-chemistry must be pretty messed up, as I can’t concentrate on anything and all I want to do is sit outside and watch the wildlife play in the “wetlands” that surround our building.

I remember being productive, I really do.

Of course, my short-term memory is pretty shot right now, so I may be making that up as well.

Dosage: “Well, it's . . . um . . . it's green."

For a 38-year old man with no outward symptoms of a physical ailment, my daily drug/supplement regimen is one that would leave many of my peers stunned.

The problem is, that like most people who are bipolar, I take a cocktail to try and balance out the variety and multitude of symptoms and effects I undergo. The current melange, as prescribed is:

It’s the last one that causes me the greatest concern. Paxil/Seroxat/paroxetine is prescribed much less freely now than it was when I was first given it in 1999. The side-effects can be stunning and as dangerous as the condition they are supposed to assist with.

I have tried multiple times to take paroxetine out of my “diet”. Unfortunately, I immediately slip into SSRI discontinuation syndrome — aggressive behaviour, irritability, and a host of other issues. In the final calculation, paroxetine will likely be a part of my “diet” until I have 6 months in a Tibetan hermitage to wean myself off of it.

Until then, I am adding things such as Omega-3 oils and Ginkgo Biloba to the mix to see if they help my body control my cycles naturally, using the methods it has used for millennia.

It’s interesting to note that, when we are mostly aware of what’s going on, Bipolars are the best ones to play with and adjust their own treatment regimen. Most high-functioning Bipolars seem to enjoy tweaking and turning the knobs in most things anyway, so why not in our medications.

[The reference in the title is from a Star Trek, Original Series episode. You know how to use Google; you find out what it means.]

When you get to the bottom, you go back to the top…

I can already tell that today will be a write-off. I am vibrating, I can’t concentrate, and my new boss starts today.

I felt warm and fuzzy this morning, which is now a symptom I recognise of the ride up the cycle. I didn’t want to stay in be; I wanted to get out of bed at 04:30 and go to work. I felt that I could do anything.

But now, the world-beating energy is gone, and the sporadic chaos, and paralysing lack of motivation have kicked in. I want to hide and stare out the window.

Wheeee! Let the Winter fun begun!

All in the Family

Time to put the manic energy I have this morning to use.

One of the most interesting things about Bipolar is that genetics plays a substantial role in determining whether you will have it. In my case, my family is a disaster when it comes to mental health.

On my father’s side, there is a long and glorious history of schizophrenia and bipolar, including at least 2 grand-uncles, and their children. Two of my father’s cousins have committed suicide.

My grandfather committed suicide in 1978.

Everyone says that this was out of the blue, there was no reason for it. He left no note, or showed any indication. But as I learn more about this condition, this state of mind, I realize that the suicidal depressions can often swamp you, flood you, to a point where a person who appears fine will take the final action in the next minute.

On my mother’s side, my grandfather medicated with rye. As well, he had amazingly manic states; at least, that’s what we would call them now. He passed the genes along to two of his children, one of whom is my mother.

Over the last 10 years, my mother has degraded to a point where she lives alone, rarely goes out, is socially inappropriate, and has tried suicide at least once.

When I speak with her, it is hard to stare into the face of what I might become, what I must be aware of, what the costs of this condition can be.

So, I was doomed from the start. My father, a man who was challenged by his own demons, married a woman who is a wildly cycling bipolar II.

My family is lucky. As far as I can tell, I absorbed all of the bipolar genetics, leaving my brothers to conquer the world in their own ways, without the chaos that tears my mind apart. I am sure that they look at me and wonder why I am so nuts. I am sure that I am not alone in being the odd family member in a sea of normals.

So when you are in the depths of your misery, or at the heights of your mania, try to step back. Ask your parents, siblings, grandparents, cousins, uncles. Try and find the thread, the trail that leads through your family. Somewhere along that trail, likely in many places, the “characters” or “eccentrics” or “troubled souls” will leap out at you. These are the people who suffered, and revelled, in their condition, and passed it to you.

And realize that you can’t lay blame. You can’t transfer your woe and misery and mania to someone who is likely long gone. You just need to understand that you are the current carrier of a torch that originated long before you were born.

Other signs of mania: The hoarder

I have talked in other posts about being an accumulator, driven by the mania to buy things that I have no need for, nor will I ever use. A slight variation of this theme is the need to hoard.

How can accumulation be different from hoarding? It’s simple, it’s not simply the accumulation of things; it’s the hoarding of them in caches, stores, and never share them with anyone.

As well as accumulation, I hoard. I am loathe to throw anything away. I must have it there, in case I need it, sometime, anytime.

Files. Papers. Photographs. Gadgets. Their mine. All mine. Don’t touch them! Get out of my space!

It is another inexplicable part of the Bipolar. The manic need to keep it all close. To protect it from others. To keep them from taking your irrationally collected things.

Isn’t the mind a fun place?

UK: Ancestry and the Commonwealth

I just found out today that I one of the ever decreasing number of Canadians who has a free five-year work visa waiting for them in the United Kingdom, courtesy of their grandparents.

It’s called the UK Ancestry Visa, and it opens up a whole new set of options to me. It streamlines the hideous visa process I have encountered in this country (USA), to a form and the birth certificates of my grandparents, my parents, and myself. Oh, and their marriage certificates.

And yes, it appears that I may score 3 out of 4 in the grandparental category, as my Scottish grandparents were all born over there.

And no, Pierzchala is not some strange Highland clan, lost to the dark fog of the ages. I am 25% Polish. I have always wanted to have a custom flag made, with the Imperial Polish Eagle superimposed over the cross of St. Andrew.

So, let’s see: hideous work permit process that takes years and has no guarantee of success; or immediate entry and work with a simple form and some family documents.

Now, admittedly, I have it easy due to my UK ancestry. However, the entry of highly skilled workers into the UK takes days, not years.

And the US wonders why emigrants are loathe to come here anymore.

T-Mobile USA: Your upgrades suck

Dear T-Mobile USA:

I have been a dedicated customer of yours since 2004. I have become an advocate for GSM services, and think that my brethern who continue to use CDMA services are not looking to the future, and don’t see the world coming at them.

That said, as a customer who likes gadgets and all the bells and whistles, your upgrades are pathetic.

And no, that level of emphasis is not used lightly.

I have just returned from the UK. Over there, the phone choices offered by providers stagger the imagination. Bells and whistles are yesterday — people base their lives around their phones, and the quality and range of phones available are, to say the least, impressive.

They also know that to retain customers, they have to provide astounding FREE upgrades. The latest, greatest are available as free upgrades just for becoming a slave to their contract.

I went and checked the upgrades you offer right now, T-Mobile. They suck. There is no motivation for me to stay with your service, no motivation for me not to move to another GSM provider and kiss my customer fidelity goodbye.

A simple thing: upgrade your upgrades. Please.

Thank you.

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