Radio Silence

My apologies for the radio silence. There has been a lot going on around here lately. Some good, some not so good. Family stuff has had me down down down, however for the purposes of privacy I will not be discussing this on my blog post. However, I will say that it has been hard and cruel, and I wouldn't wish any of this shit on anyone. So now let's focus on the good!

I received a last minute call to join the DBT (Dialectical Behavioural Therapy) group at Belmont Hospital which started on Tuesday just gone. This came as a massive shock as I was expecting it to be a few months away. It appears that they enrol new people at the beginning of each unit of study. Some people finish, some people begin. Apparently they had someone pull out at the last minute and since I had an open availability they got me in straight up. It's a course that is supposedly really good for people who have borderline personality disorder or bipolar disorder. If I work hard and practice I should find that I get a lot out of it with regards to the way I handle my emotions and how I cope in certain situations. Cross your fingers for me!

This week has been my second week with a singing teacher. I haven't worked with a professional for decades! It has been so much fun doing warm ups, scales, etc. My teacher is actually a music director at a community theatre company, and thinks it is something I should audition for. To say I am excited by this is definitely an understatement. I've always wanted to get involved in community theatre, but my situation as a single parent made that kind of difficult. Thankfully having a supportive husbfriend will make it much easier for me to do this. One of the productions he wants me to consider auditioning for is The Wedding Singer - The Broadway Musical. Yep, The Wedding Singer. As in the Adam Sandler and Drew Barrymore movie. One of my fricking favourites!!!!

Other than that I have just been working hard at keeping my head above water, both physically and emotionally. My chronic pain issues are unrelenting, If I do anything with my hands for more than half an hour they end up with pins and needles that, like Kim Kardashian's booty, just don't quit. This is putting a serious dent into my Mario Kart time. I have an appointment with a rheumatologist in July, but am on the cancellation list so I could possibly get in to see him sooner. I'll try to cross my own fingers for that, but I'm not making any promises.

Holiday time is coming very quickly for my baby and I. We are headed down to the NSW South Coast in August to spend some time with my mum. It's only a quick 10 day trip, and my priority is to see my mum. However, I may arrange a get together at one location and those who can make it are welcome to turn up. It's really hard rally racing around to see everyone that I want to see in such a short amount of time. I will make all arrangements around this on my personal facebook page as August creeps closer.

Dinner is ready, so I'm off to eat my husbfriend's creation and watch The Wedding Singer xx

My Bipolar Marriage

It's not easy having Bipolar Affective Disorder and being married. My moods rapidly cycle. It's hard to love someone else when you don't love yourself. Sometimes I have to be selfish and take time out for myself. Sometimes I feel like I can't even function as a human, let alone a wife.

With my moods, at one moment I'm up, the next I'm way way way down. It's hard to live happily ever after when you hit rock bottom and get out of bed. It can be dizzying for my husband when one moment I'm lower than low and the next I'm bouncing around the house wanting to do everything at once. However most often I find myself on the depressed side of my disorder. I can also be the angriest, crankiest bitch when I want to be. My flight response is so ingrained that every other week I've decided it is probably best that I leave the relationship.

It's hard to love your husband when you can't even love yourself. It's a bloody horrible thing to say, but there are days where I feel that there is just not an ounce of love in my body that I just muster to share with anyone. What little I have, I give to my children. Unfortunately sometimes he misses out. That makes me feel like a really shitty person.

There are weeks where I have to take time out to focus on my own mental health, leaving my husband behind to deal with all of the stress and responsibility. This past two months I have been in a psychiatric hospital three times. For a minimum of two weeks at a time. During that time he has had to endure his own issues that have made life harder for him than it should be. What makes me feel even more terrible is knowing that I am not there for him when he needs me most.

Sometimes the illness takes over and I feel like I don't even want to get out of bed. I either start the day not wanting to get out of bed and have to get Husbfriend to look after getting the kids organised for school/care while I stay in bed, or I start the day OK and then find myself in my bed with no way of getting out again. Then he finds that instead of just coming straight home and relaxing, he has to do the child care run to get the baby to bring home to the lazy wife. On these days I am lucky to have showered, let alone made dinner.

However other days I decide that I want to get everyting done at once and I start cleaning every room at the one time. Pull all of the crap out of every room and put it on the dining table. I zip around from room to room doing bits and pieces here and there, only to find that I haven't actually achieved anything much and it is time for dinner and all of the shit that I have piled on the dining table needs to be shoved back in to the rooms they came from and I have wasted a whole day.

Thankfully through all of this I have a kind, loving, caring man who is a pillar of strength in our family. Without him being the person that he is, my marriage would have dissolved a long time ago. I do realise each and every day how lucky I am to be married to a man like him. I'm looking forward to getting this illness of mine managed enough for me to be able to be at least half the wife this amazing man deserves.

We Will Remember Them

According to Wikipedia, Anzac Day is a national day of remembrance in Australia and New Zealand that broadly commemorates all Australians and New Zealanders "who served and died in all wars, conflicts, and peacekeeping operations" and "the contribution and suffering of all those who have served". While I was a kid I was acutely aware of ANZAC Day, thanks to having a Grandfather who was the President of our local RSL. We used to call him the Grand Poobah.

My grandfather was the absolute best man I have ever met. For as long as I can remember he was funny and caring, always treating us kids differently, but with no less love for one than the other. He acknowledged our differences and worked with those in the way he played with us. He could be stern, don't get me wrong. If you were too noisy during the News or while he watched is NRL, but the rest of the time he would join in on the fun with us, all while treating both his wife and my mother with the utmost respect. In fact I always swore that one day I would grow up and meet a man like my grandfather and that would be when I knew I'd found the one.

Each year my grandfather would lead the ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day services at our local primary school. He would speak about the War and what it meant. He would speak of the sacrifices the men and women of our country made so that we could live our life with the freedom we have today. I stood tall, spoke clearly, but even as a kid I could hear the undertone of sadness in his voice. This man had lived some shitty experiences to have these kinds of tales. Yet here he stands, speaking to the children in our local area, telling them about the story of the ANZACs and a child-friendly version of what they had to endure.

It wasn't until I got older that I heard the full story of what he had to go through. I haven't asked for permission to tell that side of his story today, however I can say that he suffered immensely as a result. He was given a DVA pension for the PTSD he suffered as a result of what he had to do and see. It was a battle, mind you. He was rejected many times over and had to reapply in ways that ticked all of the right boxes for the Government official to put their APPROVED stamp on it. Seriously, could they not just sit down with these men and women, have a conversation with them, have them meet with a psychiatrist and then just approve it from there? Do we need to reject claims based on administrative errors?

My grandfather lived to the ripe old age of 80. He had a fantastic 80th birthday, surrounded by friends and family. He had been sick for quite some time so we were acutely aware that this could be his last. And we were right. A few short months later he died. He was on life support for a few days, but that was mostly so that his wife and daughters would have the chance to say goodbye.

I miss this man terribly. The memory of him slips in to my mind at the most random of times. None moreso then ANZAC Day and Remembrance Day. So while I do respect the service of the tens of thousands of other men and women who have enlisted in our military, today I mostly think of my grandfather, and how grateful I am that he made it home.

This Little Piggy Goes To Market

This weekend I'm doing my first ever market stall for my business as a Plumeria Independent Distributor. I'm nervous and anxious. I don't like being on my own for hours. I had my kit set up, I have my paperwork printed. I have everything I may need. But I already feel that I am going to fail.

My business is awesome. I sell bath bombs, shower bombs, and other beauty items. Recently I have been buying some items to have on hand. A trestle table has been purchased after doing a practice run on a card table and realising it was a bit too small. I took a photo of my smaller table set up but not the bigger one yet.

My anxiety and fears about this market stall scare me. Usually I use this as fuel for not doing what I was going to do at all. So normally I would stick my head in the sand like an emu, and pretend that the world wasn't happening around me. This time I have my trusty Google Pixel phone, I have my earphones, I have e a backlog of podcasts, and I will be surrounded by yummy food. What could go wrong?

With regards to preparation, I have a black and white version of the catalogue printed. I should go get a colour one done tomorrow. I need a display folder of sorts for that. My business cards arrived today and I have an armful of brochures. Not sure that there is much else I can have done.

Still, that nagging feeling is gnawing away at me. That awful anxiety. I have my meds to take if so need. But I find they make me tkees. I just want to be able to take it through the night.

Looking forward to proving myself wrong a d sharing a pic of my set up and talking about my success.

Are You OK?

***TRIGGER WARNING***

No. Tonight I'm not ok. My insides hurt, my brain hurts, my heart hurts, my skin hurts, my bones hurt, my everything hurts. My brain hurts the most. Followed by my heart.

My brain hurts because I know the way I act, or overreact comes from a shitty place. But I don't know how to get past it. It keeps ruining relationships for me. It stops me from being happy. It stops me from achieving everything I could possibly have ever achieved.

My heart hurts because it really is still just little Allison. That young girl who learns how to walk on eggshells and to try to not do/say the wrong thing least we released the dragon in my father. Sometimes if we gave him nothing to be angry about he would go looking for it. He would always find it in my bedroom. Clothes shoved under the bed, desk drawer cluttered and not messy. The clothes in my wardrobe may be on the floor of the wardrobe instead. Then the kraken would come cracking. He didn't just use psychological violence. Physical violence was his speciality. The amount of fractures my poor mother suffered are innumerable. Not to me room the territory anguish wondering whether tonight would be the night. And if it was my sister and​ I would argue about whose turn it was to get in the middle of them.

My skin, bones and everything hurts because of my stupid undiagnosed illness. I keep losing feeling in my fingers in both hands. The almost burning pain I feel down my spine. The fact that I now often poop my pants unknowingly. Like fucking hell. Haven't we got enough here???

So after having an argument with Trent I jumped in to the car wondering if I would just drive in to something or if I would just go back home. After a call from my eldest asking me where I've gone and when I'll be home, I think I will go home.

A lapse or a relapse?

I'm back in hospital. Things didn't turn out the way I had expected. These things included my health, my brain, my general symptoms and my inability to feel safe at home. I was at a point where I would have hurt myself or run.

On Monday I had an appointment with my ortho spine specialist. Originally anticipated an appointment to discuss my surgery. He looked at my MRI results and figured that surgery would not do nahzhing. So now I'm back where I was 12 months ago with no idea of what's wrong with me, with hands that ache and go numb, often being unusable. I now hove ankles that sting when I walk, and hips that don't lie about how painful they are. So apparently I finally am getting the rheumatologist referral that I asked for months ago.

After absorbing this information about my health and pain I figured that I wasn't too keen on spending possibly the rest of my life like this. I started formulating an "exit plan". I felt really unsafe and anxious. So then I popped Valium and neulactil like they were lollies just to try to chill out. My psych and GP figured I needed hospital. Belmont doesn't do an Emergency section so I would have to go via the public system. So we skipped Ipswich and headed in to Royal Brisbane Hospital.

When ​we arrived they checked me in and quickly whisked the crazy lady out of the waiting room, only to find myself in another waiting room. I waited around 2 hours on my own before they brought food around. What they didn't factor in was the 5 anti-anxiety pills that I had taken just a few hours earlier. I was so damn tied. Needless to say that by the time they night dinner around halfway through the delicious meal of dried silverside with a side of ugly vegetables that were worth of my digestive tract, I fell asleep. My plate slipped and ended up as part of my clothing ensemble. Thankfully black leggings go with EVERYTHING! I asked for a bed but the logos said no. I had to be seen first. When they finally did offer me a bed I felt as welcome as a cold sore on formal night. Their preference was that I spend the night with my family and see my psychiatrist the next day.

Psychiatrist day came. Yippee! Finally I'd get the help I needed to keep me off the proverbial ledge. He pushed for me to stay at home. I told him if he did not admit me I would go to Toowong hospital and ask to be admitted. Finally he relented and here I am, in my own room and everything.

So here I am. With more to write once my hands feel better and it isn't 4am.

Hope you all slept well xxx

Home Again Jiggidy Jig

Well, ladies and gentlemen , I am back home!!! It hasn't been an easy time, but I'm getting there. It isn't easy coming from a controlled environment to one that is full of teenagers, a baby, a dog, and three cats. There was so much boy mess, and my senses were on overload. However Husbfriend has done an amazing job of looking after everything in my absence. Couldn't fault him, and wouldn't want to any way. Although the dog did need washing this morning. Smells better now.

The biggest thing I have found since leaving hospital is that a lot of what I brushed off as something else is actually anxiety. I can't take valium forever, so I have started vaping. No nicotine included. Just a vape with something sweet to curb my taste for sweet things. It helps me concentrate on my breathing. I'm a shallow breather naturally, so therefore my oxygen saturation always freaks people out. This is helping with that too. I understand that people will consider this silly, but considering after 10 years I was still tempted to ask for a cigarette this seemed like a better option.

My littlest man had swimming lessons yesterday. Honestly it is one of my most favourite parts of the week. We get to spend some precious time together and he has an absolute blast. This week my beautiful boy levelled up. He is now in Baby Group 3 and I'm super proud. What a way to end a shitty few weeks.

So this week is gonna be a big one. I started with washing the dog this morning, then off for an MRI later in the day (you know people are worried when they squeeze you in on a Sunday day). On Monday I see the spine surgeon and my psychologist, Tuesday my psychiatrist, Thursday I have an appt at Ipswich hospital for preadmission, and Friday. So much for taking it easy.

What do you have on to keep you busy this week?

It's Today! It's Today!

Well, I made it. I got out the other side of my time at Belmont Private Hospital. There is a mixture of joy and anxiety. Getting home vs leaving the comfort of a controlled environment.

Flowers from my beautiful Nanny's garden xx

Most of my morning was spent saying goodbye. I don't want to tag anyone due to their own privacy, but to the Unicorn Pony Queen I want to say thank you. You opened your heart and your arms, hugging me physically and figuratively. I know that life has dealt you a shitty hand, but you are tough enough to make it through. To my lovely Emerald Technology girl, thank you for being you. Thank you for arting with me, for eating with me, for walking with me, and for letting me in to your world. I'm sorry for the recent heartache you have to endure. Let me know if you need a wing man. Then there has been a lovely gentle, soft, kind-hearted Nina, who I don't have on Facebook so she isn't easily recognisable. I am not sure if you realise how far you have come since I first met you. You are an absolute credit to yourself. You are a fighter underneath that gentle facade. So keep fighting. Lastly thank you you roomie. Not only for being an amazing woman who I am glad to call a friend, but for the invaluable advice and support you offered me, particularly on the early days.

Discharge with my psychiatrist went very well. Just ticked the boxes, planned my appointments and my ACT group that I need to attend after here. It feels good to not be cast adrift, so to speak. The nursing station hadn't given me my discharge paperwork the evening before so that delayed my departure. All it took was a quick scribble with the pen on numerous bits of paper and I was good to go.

It was good to see my big boys as soon as I got home. Debbie Did Queensland which meant the kids were home. So I saw their faces as soon as I got in the door. I did feel missed, I must say. Although nobody made me feel more welcome than my pupper. Renly of House Barkratheon could barely contain himself. It was a battle between the dog and the baby for my attention. My heart swelled with pride. As we speak I have a cat friend chilling next to me, as close as he can get.

Both of our big boys wanted to attend Youth Group this evening. We dropped them off around 6.30pm and grabbed some Thai takeout for a night alone with the bub. I had the best Thai Green curry that I mixed with some extra frozen vegetables to replace the rice. Oh did I mention I've been doing Optifast for 2 meals a day since last Monday and I have already lost 2 kg? I haven't said? Well I have! Yahoo! But I digress. We fed ourselves and the baby. It was delicious and exactly what dinner after a return from 3 weeks in hospital should taste like.

We did set up the bed in Ezra's room to start a new habit. I lay down with him to watch some Brum reruns on Stan, only for me to fall asleep with him. Apparently I was asleep before him!  Not sure how long he will stay asleep before he cracks a shit, but I don't doubt we will figure it out.

I've dumped my nights worth of beds for the evening so I need to get to work closing my eyes. I don't want to half finishing this post and then fade off in to a series of zzzzzzzz. So I will wish you a goodnight from my own bed, while I try to simultaneously fall asleep and anxiously listen out for my baby boy in his own room. Sweet dreams to those of you still awake before reading this.

Love to you all xxx

Nightmares Are Balls

OK seriously. Why on earth does our brain give us nightmares? How is there possibly any reasonable explanation for why we wake up in tears, having relived a trauma from our past. Especially after yesterday was rough enough as it is, thanks to a potential bad reaction to my new meds. Although the awesome group sessions I attended and shopping trip with Husbfriend made it totally worth it.

Just a few minutes ago I woke to find my heart racing and my eyes watering. I can recall dreaming about some past trauma, my subconscious playing on my insecurities. I'm not good enough, I'm an easy target, I'm overreactive, it's funny to see me get upset. So now my brain is racing and I can't sleep. Should I go and get something to make me sleep and miss out on my morning gym session? Or do I hold out and save my PRN (anti anxiety meds) for later in the day since I always run short? Decisions, decisions.

Speaking of medication, as I've mentioned previously I have started a new med called Pristiq. I woke fine yesterday morning, however when Husbfriend arrived and took me shopping I found myself very overstimulated by the lights, sounds and movement there. My vision was a bit sparkly (as in things looked like they were sprinkled with glitter), and I felt very agitated. My speech was quite scattered and I found it really hard to focus, jumping from conversation to conversation without finishing the last. Definitely wasn't the best I've ever felt. Not even close.

On the topic of shopping, I did manage to pick up some amazing​ things, courtesy of a tax adjustment working out in my favour.  I got myself a swag of stuff at Daiso, which is an amazing Japanese store filled with items that are only $2.80 unless otherwise marked. I filled my basket with an assortment of goodies, freaking out that I would have spent close to $100+ dollars. Worked out I only spent $40. THIS PLACE IS AMAZING! I also went and got my other nostril pierced to match the other side. Believe I or not I got it to help with a compulsion I have. Hopefully it works!

Groups are part of our every day life here. As a general rule you should attend 3 sessions a day. Today I only managed two as I had also gone for a walk around the grounds for 30 mins as exercise.. One of them was a relaxation session (which helped my wired brain) and the other was a creative writing session. I loved it! Got my mind to head off in a more creative and mindful direction. Well not entirely long term. But it did help for the short term.

I should probably attempt this sleep thing. I feel wiped out after succumbing to PRN. I wish you all a wonderful day ❤️

Time for the Freakin' Weekend (I'll drink to that yeah yeah)

Weekends have a whole new meaning when you're in hospital. Therapy stops, therefore your whole routine stops. Suddenly you only have to do the things you choose to do. Which is a bit of a double-edged sword. For those who don't have friends or family to visit, or who don't feel like engaging with the outside world at all, I could imagine it would be a pretty dark couple of days. Thankfully I have the opposite. Although throw a medication change in there, and you have a bit of trouble brewing underneath.

Yesterday I had a couple of visitors. My lovely friend Jess came to pick me up and take me for a cruise around the shopping centre. We got our nails done, drank coffee and looked in clothes shops. I picked up a few of the bits and pieces that I needed, and a few that I didn't need but really wanted. Leggings (to wear as pants), thongs, makeup bag, and some body scrub to try to give my sense of smell a bit of a good time. We laughed lots, avoided committing crimes, and made it back to the hospital only almost an hour later than I said I would. Un/fortunately nobody seemed to notice/care that I wasn't back in time. I know I am a low risk patient, so perhaps that accounts for it?

Later in the afternoon I had a visit from three of my boys. My stepson wasn't feeling well so he stayed behind, however I had Aedin, Ezra and Trent here which was amazing. We went to a little wing place called Lord of the Wings. Ah mah gahd! It was so great. Wings, burgers, poutine, mozzarella sticks. How could you go wrong??? Can't wait for someone to come visit me around dinner time so we can go there again. And to top the night off, when we got back to my room I was able to take my littlest guy in for a shower with me. This is one of our routines that I have missed the most. Afterwards he lay on the bed with me and had a bottle. It was divine. A-Dawg had a great time playing with my Nintendo Switch, drinking the complimentary hot chocolate, and eating as many of the biscuits as he could hahahaha. Gosh I love that kid.

Sunday rolled around before I knew it, and thankfully my roomie woke me to let me know that today was Cooked Breakfast Day. Considering I had missed breakfast the past few mornings I decided I should definitely make a move to score myself some bacon. There are not many more motivating forces stronger than bacon, amirite? Afterwards I worked on doing my laundry and waited for my boys to visit again. This time I had the pleasure of seeing Trent, Ezra and Josh. I grabbed the box of equipment required to play table tennis and we went outside for some fresh air. Ezra had an absolute blast. Apparently people hitting a tiny little plastic ball is HILARIOUS! Ez gives it 10/10. We had a nice afternoon and it was sad having to say goodbye again.

The rest of the afternoon has been pretty ordinary. Anxiety levels have been high. The doc is weaning me off my current medication, which can account for some of it. However it wasn't until I came in here that I realised a lot of the symptoms I've been having have been anxiety. The biggest one being shortness of breath in the absence of exercise. Some moments I find that I just can't seem to catch my breath, no matter how hard I try. Thankfully my psychiatrist had written me up for some valium to take when I feel I need it. Problem is, the more I wean off this medication, the more the anxiety is kicking in. I'm not looking forward to how I will feel the next few days.

Anyway it's almost time for me to go and get my nighttime medications. I've already had my shower and spoilt my senses with some body scrub. I've rubbed some magnesium cream into my sore ankle (I'm doing a magnesium cream experiment as present, which I will talk about soon), and soon I will lay in bed with the lights off, and some Iron Fist on my laptop while I wait for sleep to hit. Sleep seems to be a lot more accommodating now that I am on some different medications. Once I go to sleep, I stay asleep.

Now enough about me, tell me about you. How was your weekend?