To my support group

At first I didn’t like you. I didn’t like coming in a group where everyone was talking in turns. Several times I have been at home before a meeting and thought to myself ‘I do not want to go tonight’. Some of those times I went, others I didn’t. My husband is the reason of that. He helped me take the decisions I couldn’t. Like going to a meeting or not.

I have realised that I need this group. I need to feel that I am not all alone with my illness. And I need to practice to verbalise how I feel. You are good at that. You do something special for me. And this place is like a quiet hiding place in the sea of normality.

I came here after a psychosis and in the middle of a depression. While I have been here, I have gotten worse and I have gotten better again. While I have been here I have left the hallucinations behind, I have relearned how to bike in narrow spaces, and I have have regained the ability to have conversation.

Thanks for hearing me out. I really needed to say this. I like you now.

Over and out.


“Yeah, it is scary,” my husband answered to my statement that I don’t know what I used to. It is nice to have somebody finally admitting that I was not this stupid always. Yet it is scary, as he said. It is scary that depression made me more stupid.
It could just be the cognitive difficulties still taking its toll on my head. But honestly I doubt it. I hope it but I doubt it. Pessimistic mind? I prefer to think that I’m more of a realist. That way I won’t be disappointed.

It also made me think about intelligence. Are you intelligent if you take an education? No necessarily, I think. Some people without still have very abstract thinking, are good at reasoning, and well informed. Maybe that is intelligence? One of my friends is developing artificial intelligence and he talks a lot about categorising. It that how intelligence works? By creating categories?

I think my wondering about what intelligence can all be track back to my concerns about my own brain. What if it never gets better? It has gotten a little better over the passed two months I must admit, but how long will it take? And what am I to do in the meantime?

Over and out.

My hair is falling off

I got a new haircut because of lamotrigine. Genuine thanks to lamotrigine for making me feel better, but no ‘thank you’s for making my hair fall off. That medicine… It gives me pimples and makes my hair look like an old lady’s. Dammit. I can’t be the only one with those problems?

Over and out.

I don’t read faces; I can’t.

I read at some point, when I was doing research on my own disorder, that people with bipolar can have trouble reading faces during their episodes. I thought I was odd, but I pushed it aside as a minor and strange detail, which wouldn’t affect me. I was wrong.

I can see people changing facial expression, but I can’t read it. ‘Are you angry with me or disappointed?’ And those are not the worse. Jealousy, remorse, mild surprise. Pretty difficult.

I don’t have a strategy yet (I wish I did). I know it makes me look stupid and it make me overthink: ‘Did I do anything wrong? Are they angry with me?’ I get stuck in me own head. Anyway, that research seems to be true when it comes to me and my cognitive difficulties. I wish the head would heal, but who wouldn’t wish for that?

Over and out.

When it hurts, it is bad. 

Some weeks ago I sat outside with a friend. We talked about illnesses and mine in particular. I had just been told that I should count on taking meds the rest of my life (people kept asking for how long I would be on meds and I didn’t know so I asked). I had been and am still surprised. My friend wasn’t. Her face went also sour when I say something in the lines of ‘I’m not that ill’. She is a really good friend of mine and do tell me off when I need it. I had to look away. “You really don’t think so?!” Well maybe, I don’t know.. I just thought that the average other had it worse. 

It is really hard for me to judge the seriousness of my own situation and of others. My head strives after a pattern that can make it make sense to me. Maybe even an other system than the one I have. The one a navigate from now says if people are hurting, it is bad and if people are not hurting, it is good. My understanding of mental illness is like a child’s. 

Over and out. 

Here we go again? Paranoia? 

It is about surveillance. I’m under observation, they are listening to my conversations whenever I leave the house. 

It seems worse on written. I’m sure most people have felt this way at some point.

And I mean, the time when I was paranoid, I believed that some government entity wanted to kill me. This time is nothing. I’m not sure if it is anything at all. I just needed to share. 

Over and out 

Lazy Sunday

I slowly opened my eyes from my second nap this afternoon. The world was still there. Dammit.

It has been a lazy Sunday. I have taken 1-2 hours naps and there has been nothing else I wanted to do today. I wanted to sleep and sleep the world far away. Also I have cried.

Sleep is a common topic when you are depressed or bipolar, right? Either you sleep to much or too little or you are depended on a strict sleep routine. Sleep matters. I sleep when I am down. I sleep because I am tired, but I also sleep to make the world go away.

I feel better, I think, as the months from my last depression goes by, but I still hit these holes of darkness. Deep holes. This time I think it was provoked by starting a temp job last week. Or drinking beers with friends last night. What ever I did, it was dump.

I am getting tired again. Apparently that is still possible. I will go to bed soon to celebrate that I have been outside the door today – twice.


Over and out.