I WAS HYPOMANIC YESTERDAY. Slept not a bit on Wednesday night and went to see my friend Paddadadster on Thursday morning. I was as excited as a 5-year old who believed Father Xmas had just scarpered back up the chimney leaving a sackload of presents.
I met a friend of mine called Tommo who went to school near me. Every time I meet him he has busted knuckles. Today he had a broken arm. He was drinking and talking about being caned. Getting caned means getting off your head but his school was like mine, a former secondary modern (which means rough and that was the teachers not just the pupils) and just down the road from my school. There was a lot of corporal punishment back in the day which is stupid. It was over-used in my Dad's day and banned now so the kids no there is no deterrent. Luckily in my school it was normally just a shoe. I got it for forgetting RE homework. This was the 80s when whacking kids was going out of fash in England, but we were in Wales. Tommo said he got six of the best for smoking a ciggie "behind the bike sheds" (everything exciting happened behind the bikesheds eg at fantasy nonexistent schools getting what the newspapers call "a sex act"). We were both smoking ciggies and laughing. We were laughing about that and about his broken arm which he got for being drunk and stumbling in the dark. The poor man said he lost his television (electrical fault) and I said if only I'd known he could have had one of mine. I used to have five, now I have at least four. He is one of the coolest people I know, even though he has busted knuckles. Knowing him he was fighting in somebody else's honour. I know Tommy well he is a nice guy.
Pinky phoned me raving about her new memory foam mattress. I asked her whether her mental household is mixed sex she said yeah. I said why don't you say at breakfast it takes vagina prints and she laughed her head off.
I'm actually quite depressed today, my body is tired and my brain is acheing I feel like I have done something wrong and am suffering for it. Like I've done some great but unexciting bike sheds crime and my head is caned just the come down without any fun. I used to get bad down after speed and pretty bad after ecstasy. I feel like such an idiot for ever messing about with such drugs. [I haven't taken ecstasy or speed in over a decade with one exception about four years ago when I found speed in a tobacco tin at a bus stop...]
To try and cheer myself up I had a look through the DVDs at HMV. They say laughter is the best medicine and it does work. Meet the Fockers worked. Paddster asked wether I'd tried Little Fockers yet, but it came out over the new year period when I was mentally ill and won't be released until something like April 25 on DVD. I love Robert DeNiro and Barbra Streisand so I'll try Little Fockers. I bet it outdoes mirtazapine as an antidepressant.
Sorry I wrote nothing last night as I say I really was tired. Having been hypomanic and up all day I suddenly plummeted down in the evening and just had to go to bed and rest.
Illustrated: six cigarettes could get you six of the best; the cane and the gym shoe (the "dap") only got banned when I was about 16; memory foam ~ could have rude implications if you slept naked on your front...
DEPRESSION VIDEOS. I found these yesterday and put them on my random blog. Perhaps someone will find them useful:~~~~~~~
Dr Kay Redfield Jamison, author of the classic memoir An Unquiet Mind, is a sufferer of bipolar i disorder and head of a mood disorders clinic in Washington DC, USA. She is also author of Touched With Fire: Manic Depressive Illness and the Artistic Temperament. She's talking here about her latest work, about suicide. In her lowest depression, an 18-month long double dip bipolar depression she attempted suicide with a deliberate lithium overdose. So she knows what she's talking about ...
Open University film: Coping with depression. This is really good. It goes through every aspect of depression including drug therapies and drug abuse (part 3) diagnosis (part 2) and the illness and its stigma (part 1).
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