The Doctor is In

Monday

I'm doing OK. A bit down in the mouth. I spoke with the Webmaster ages ago about what's suitable for this site and so I can't say much; but adult subject matter is very important in getting right with oneself AND with society in general. It's not really dealt with in the hospital system much. Or, at least, I didn't manage to get much joy out of seeking help and reassurance from staff. In fact, the mental health sector can be a breeding ground for hostile and dangerous forces because it's at one remove from the normal checks and balances of the mainstream. Like a little pool where the mosquitos hang out...

Anyway, aside from the darker side of treatment; and apart from just about busting my bank account recently, I'm doing not too bad. Didn't make it into the day hospital till quarter past three this afternoon but that's allowable now for me: they know there that I'm not trying to get out of going, just some hiccup or whatever. In fact, I had a good ten-minute chat with the nurse key-worker. On Wednesday, the next time I go in, there's to be a visit from the Mental Welfare Commission. The're the independent body that keeps an eye on things. All I'm wanting to see them about is to praise the help that the service has given to me. It's a long road - but it's worthwhile. It's saving lives, really, isn't it?

See you later. All the best. Alan.

Start Of The Week

I'm finding that I've got a lot going on. Much personal/private-life stuff. And the regularity of going to the day hospital twice a week. On thursdays, I drop in at The Cottage for a sit down and a chat and a cup of tea. I'm lucky to have such a stable routine - well provided for by the statutory and voluntary sectors (as we call them over here). It's a funny thing, but I realise now that even when we don't necessarily seem to be making much use of the services these places provide, the very fact of their existence is a big help in itself. It becomes a bit like having family to lean on. Or even to impress, or to entertain, or whatever. Anyhow, I'm pleased with the way things are at the moment; so much so that I've felt able to approach the new consultant and talk about a worrying aspect of my health over recent months - some kind of epileptic-type fit. Not too dramatic but a concern nonetheless. We're going to see if we can get it checked out on a scan or something. So, good news and not so good news. I'm up late tonight checking my inbox and wondering whether to phone long-distance to catch up with my friend in America. She's five hours behind the U.K. clock. Goodnight to you all. Sweet dreams. Alan.

Back In Business

Oh, hi again. I've been "otherwise engaged". Romantic attachment and development. All good clean fun.

I'm doing OK. I'm back on track, going to the day hospital twice a week and generally keeping things in order. It really was a difficult winter for me and it's great to be feeling human again. To be honest, the most effective healer this time has been time itself. Just a question of sticking with it and carrying on regardless. Obviously, it helps immmensely not to be totally on my own and to have people waiting in the wings, as it were. But basically, there comes a time when we've got stand on our own two feet and either sink or swim. It was a hard-won struggle; but I'm pulling through. Thanks for all your help in making this weblog a success.

We'll see whether I get back into the swing of things writing stuff; or if it's time to call a wrap on this particular aspect of my recovery programme, such as it is. Hopefully catch you all later. All the best, Alan.

Friday

A quick entry: I'm not so sure how I'm doing. Falling in love wasn't on the agenda! It certainly causes an upset - in a rather delightful sort of a way. Anyway, I've been in a daze. Dreaming quite a lot, heavily. It's this sort of situation that is a test of how I'm getting on with things in general. The highs and lows make for interesting times. I'm coping not too bad. Gets a bit scary at times. But then, it gets really lovely too. Of course, I know that psychiatric patients aren't really allowed to have romantic interludes - all part of the illness, don't you think?. No, not really.

All the best. I'll keep you informed....

Alan.

Sunday

Just managed to get back to ground level over the weekend. I had a lift from a new Internet friend and I was riding high on a wave of euphoria. A ladyfriend, needless to say. Anyway, that's not very interesting. In fact, I haven't got much to say at the moment. I feel that I've slotted back into the groove as far as continuing care is concerned. It is good to have refound the special environment that the day hospital offers. It's also easy to not appreciate its value when I'm there. One of the difficulties to be faced by patients is re-engaging with non-medical folk - the famous "Mr. and Mrs. Normal": the ones who read the lurid tabloid headlines. So having a halfway house of a place that's not the big hospital but is a shelter against the rougher aspects of society is helpful. That's how it's designed, anyway. Not everybody finds it useful.

Goat's cheeses. Does anybody know anything about goat's cheeses?

See you later. Alan.

May Madness

Well, it's been quite a week in this young psychiatric patient's life. Lots of personal relationship stuff. The journey back into �community� life is fraught with all sorts of snares and pitfalls. One of the most obvious is in how I get on with people in a friendly, personal way. That includes everybody: family, off-duty staff, old pals, the girl in the supermarket.... Some would say that I'm a bit sex mad. I certainly have travelled an immense distance in my understanding of myself in relation to others on that score. I used to be very hung up. But really, interpersonal relationships are so key to the whole recovery process that I have to make at least a passing mention.

OK, I'll shut up about that. How's things with you. Has spring finally sprung in your life? It's so important to learn to ride these waves that come past: to surf the moment. It takes patience and practice to get it right; but it's worthwhile when it happens. And, it's good therapy � lose some of that psychological flabbiness that builds up being out of the mainstream of society. I ain't the Arnie Schwarzeneger of North East Fife Association for Mental Health, but I'm getting better as I gradually mix in with folk and rub shoulders with the �normal� world. That sounds terrible. All I mean is that it's nice to be getting on with things.

See you next time. Alan.

Tuesday

I'm doing O.K. I think that now that things have settled a bit, I need to simply put the time in as regards making a life for myself. Start from where I am - that means going to the day hospital tomorrow. I'm back on track. The patient transport picks me up about 9am. Actually, tomorrow's a bit special because it's the day when we celebrate ten years of the Focus education service. That was set up between the local in-patient hospital and the further education college for the purposes of supported study and recreation. I go to the keep-fit session in the gym on Wednesday mornings and other folk do art, computing, health and beauty, numeracy and motor mechanics. It's tailored to suit people who are perhaps lacking in confidence or feeling left out of the mainstream syllabus. It's really just the sort of thing that needs to be done to keep improving the service provided by the hospital and in fact it's open to all who need a little help and encouragement to get on. It's true that when you've been ill, you don't tend to much feel like getting involved in social activities. It seems too much to deal with. So a friendly introduction is very appropriate. It's being held at the college around lunchtime - free buffet of course. And there aught to be a good crowd.

Still a long way to go for me. But I do see the light a-shining at the end of the tunnel. Alan.

Back

Hello again. I'm back from holiday. Nice time. It's very refreshing to get away and have a break in some friendly company. It's kind of a normal thing to do. That's one of the reasons that having one's freedom curtailed goes against the grain. Either in prison or in hospital. But with the medics, there really is a sense that it's for your own protection. Or at least, you get to realise that after a while. It's the old idea of sanctuary. I must admit that most folk are pretty horrified the first time around. In some ways, the shock of being admitted is part of the treatment. It kind of puts a stop to all the nonsense that's been going on before. Suddenly, everything becomes regular and generally inoffensive. It's a tough way of dealing with people in distress but I think it's not as unfair as it's often made out to be. After all, most people have had the experience of being made to go to school and it's kind of similar except you stay in after the doors are shut(!) Anyway, I'm feeling pretty good today. The sun has been shining brightly; summer is on it's way; and (if only) all's right with the world.

Schizo-affective disorder - it doesn't sound so bad once you get used to it. I still have mixed feelings about who I ought to talk to about it. This country's newspapers still run scare-mongering stories about axe-maniacs and horror situations. Of course for 99.9% of the time, as we all know, things go on quietly day by day. There's a lot of good which gets done imperceptibly over a long period of time. The backbone of the whole health service is probably patience. And innate trust that everyone is working for improvement, even though sometimes it seems like we have to go back a few steps to move on. Whatever, I hope things are good with you. See you soon, Alan.

Before I Go

A few words before I scoot off and die. (Only kidding - I do feel pretty rough though)

There's no telling what's round the next corner. Might be nice; might be not. As long as I can return to the refuge of a clear and peaceful mind then I know that I'm doing not too bad. I've been in some hairy situations: a cool head is best. So, lend me that ice-pack - I need to lie down.

Keep well y'all. I'll be back. Alan.

Well, it's been hellish, the past few days. I'm pulling through. Feel hurt and disappointed. Booked to go away on a short holiday to see old friends. Hopefully my social worker can do something on my behalf while I'm away to smooth things out with the folk over at the community. It's been a very clear example of the them-and-us kind of an attitude that pervades the whole mental healthcare system. Not that that is necessarily bad - it just makes for more difficulties when things go wrong. Friends suddenly change into members of the organisation and there's the whole issue of a united front to deal with. Me? I just keep listening to my Ian White tapes and try to pick my way through all the nonsense.

See you in May. Alan.

Wednesday Night

Not much to say - I'm getting ill. All the recent nonsense is piling up and I can feel the repressed emotion and twisted thinking doing its damage. Not nice. I've booked to take a short break next week. Go and sit by the sea and let out some of the nastiness. I don't know. It's a mess.

Thanks for your interest. I'll get back in touch soon.

Alan.

I was going to leave it for another day - I've been busy resting. But the big grey tomcat has been sick so I'm up now and I might as well say a piece.

Firstly, I must apologise for my last, angry outburst. There's no need to vent my disquiet in public. Except that I have been feeling rotten and I suppose it just boils over into this avenue of communication.

I've had some more comments made which is really nice. I'm obviously entertaining or informing one or two of you. Part of the attraction of going on the internet is to converse with people in similar or related situations. For all my seeming confidence, really, I'm a pretty isolated soul and have been for a number of years. It's not that I don't have the opportunity to socialise; it's just that my social skills are very rusty and I tend to lack motivation. Things are improving as time goes by. In fits and starts. But typing away here in the middle of the night is one way of moving things on a bit.

Anyway, I was going to say that, secondly, this is not a religious website so I won't do any evangelising - not that I'd necessarily be much good at it anyway - but I just wanted to let you know that I have had inner support from my understanding of the spiritual journey I'm on. It's not something that gets talked about much, certainly not in the psychiatric circles I'm party to. However, the sense of self harmony and peace which can accompany meditations on the great religious themes is worth a lot in the recovery-from-illness process. But, like I say, each to his own.

So how's the world shaping up? I'm a bit locked into my little corner at the moment. Somebody was saying on the T.V. the other night about how there's a feeling of doom and dread around in the air. Well, I'd rather not go too much into that: communal paranoia is a bit much. Leave it to the politicians and the churchmen. My plate is pretty full already.

My brothers seem to think I'm doing well. They've certainly seen me in much worse states before now. Personally, I feel a bit wobbly and unsure as to how things are going to go this year. It was all sewn up; or so I thought. Incredible how things can change, literally overnight. I remember when I'd been in the rehab. unit for a good while and something came up that made me show a bit of independent spirit. I was shifted back to the acute ward. And the consultant went off on annual leave. Man, I was really annoyed with him. I even enquired at the police station about whether it would be possible to trace him in order to get the move reversed. Things got sorted out in the end.

I didn't do badly overall as far as falling foul of the powers that be was concerned. The fact that my parents, my Dad in particular, had made a point of keeping in touch with the staff must've helped my case along. Three cheers for concerned family members. Really, the whole process is a complex web of interwoven causes-and-effects and I suppose the only thing I can say to folk who are just getting involved with the whole thing is to try and involve as many people as possible. Where I was admitted, they had an advocacy service, which I leaned heavily on. It didn't secure my immediate release as I was wishing, but I (at the very least) got to talk fairly and squarely with someone, independent of the hospital staff. That was a help.

O.K. The cat seems to be doing all right. I'll let you get back to what you were doing. See you soon. 'Bye, Alan.

Another Week

Oh well, another painful week, I'm afraid. But I see that I've got some more comments so that ought to cheer me up.

I tell you, it's a mind-field out there - it's so easy to do the wrong thing and cause an upset. You know what I've discovered is that not everybody who works in mental healthcare is necessarily very sane themselves. Mostly it's O.K. But when the pressure is really on then it can be surprising the way some people jump. I'm not wanting to lay blame exactly; it's more of an observation. I suppose that when it comes to it we're ALL in the same boat. Personally, I'm finding my feet in the christian faith and that really does produce some startling results. E.g. Love your enemies. Wow! That's enormous. Anyway, I've been up to my neck in it again. That crazy joke-that-went-wrong has terminated a two-year long attempt to get myself sorted with a viable alternative to hospital treatment. I was all set up for a summer out in the country planting vegetables and eating of the harvest. Bad news. I annoyed the hierarchy I think. They got shot of me like in some Greek tragedy. My friends (such as I have) have been consoling. I'm obviously out looking for sympathy. But there is a serious moral to it all: when somebody who has gone so far as to declare a psychiatric disorder makes a mess of things then it behoves those in positions of authority to behave impecably towards said person for fear of causing further trouble. What I mean is that difficult situations need to be handled with care. Care needs to be taken. For normal everyday folk, a bad day is just that - a bad DAY. But for those of us with a disturbed recent past, a bad day can set off a whole load of stuff, albeit unintentionally, and I think that it's very important that people be given the benefit of the doubt as much as possible. After all, in workplace or school situations there is usually a procedure for dealing with problems that arise, often involving verbal warnings and the like. Well, we're human beings too you know. We deserve an equal chance at justice as well as the any other.

Ah, you can tell that I'm pretty down about it all. Headache, heartache; a sorry tale. How you doin'? Get back to you later. 'Bye for now, Alan.

Sunday

Hello again. I'm having my sunday night siesta. Just lounging around. There's a lot of lounging-around-therapy involved in my treatment plan. In some ways, just being happy with my own company is a real breakthrough considering what it's been like when things are the opposite to comfortable. If any of you have had the experience of going to visit somebody on a ward and have thought what a dreadful, dull, lifeless kind of environment it can be then it's worth making the effort to understand that it's not the medication or the regieme particlarly; it's what's required after all the shocks and distubances of a traumatic time. Nothing much happens, and that's a welcome break. As things settle down and the patient's condition improves (which can take months and months) then there ought to be some way of re-engaging in "occupational" activity. I ended up working in the gardens myself. Anyway, it's not all as doom and gloomy as it often first seems to appear.

Hope all's well with you all. Speak soon, Alan.

Happy Easter

�When we were overwhelmed by sin, You atoned for our transgressions�.

It's Eastertime and it makes me think of how lucky we are to get away with making so many mistakes, for doing so many things wrong. I was really a gonner when those two police put me in the back of the van to be carted off to a place of safety. I did my best to get out of it: advocacy, sheriff court, climbing out the window. But really, it was the right solution to the difficulties I'd got myself into. Life had overwhelmed me and I needed to be saved. It's a hard thing sometimes to accept when we need help. I'm getting better at it as time goes on. I was way out of line and now I'm more part of the community. A long bumpy road to be sure. But when all is said and done where would I be now if I hadn't been taken in for reprogramming? (!). No, really, it has been an experience. Eye-openingly so. When I think of all the people, all over the world, who are giving or undergoing treatment. It's a colossal undertaking. Three cheers for all the good guys. And hip, hip, hooray for my fellow patients. Hopefully, we're all going the right way. Happy Easter. See you next week, Alan.

Night Off

I think I'll have a night off. Actually, I typed in a whole spiel but it got lost on the way to the server. Too bad. Anyway, I'm listening to "Folk, Roots and Acoustic" on Radio 2. Salsa Celtica!. Cool. It's a crazy mixed-up world we live in, don't you think so? See you. Alan.

More below:-

Tuesday

Tuesday's I go to an open-house sort of a place, Pathways. Mostly for me it's a means of getting out of the house for some company. Mairi comes to pick me up from my place and we drive over. Then it's all about who's in and what's going on. Sitting around chatting and drinking tea and having a smoke. Pathways To Recovery In Mental Health to give it its full title. Just about to move to new premises in town (Dundee). Liz is doing aromatherapy sessions at the moment. Anyway, the reason I mention it is because one of the chaps in today was vocalising his situation and it reminded me of myself. You probably know it - it's when things get so bad that you want to hurt someone; or be hurt. A sort of terrible dilemma between knowing that it's rampant emotional malovolence and yet also being drawn to the possibility that acting on the impulse would be so easy. It's really bad to experience. The nitty gritty of being unwell. And the worst of it is that even though I know of similar circumstances and thought patterns to the ones he was describing, I still felt shocked when he put his feelings into words. It started to sound like a tabloid stereotype of mental illness. There is a tendency when we get through our difficulties to forget how awful it was. I reckon he'll be OK. It's a matter of sticking with it and managing things as best as possible. Eventually these things begin to fade.

I'm still kind of sore about what's been happening lately but I'm not quite yet ready to deal properly with it. See you later, Alan.

Late Monday Night

It's a bummer when things go wrong. All the more so when it means going back into the territory of "will this lead to readmission?" As it is, I'm finding that I'm doing better than expected and although I'm unhappy at the turn of events at least I think I can keep on the path of non-psychiatric behaviour. But Gordon Bennet, it's a trial!

How's things with you good folks? I usually have a sense that the world is quite capable of looking after itself without my involvment and that generally other people are all right. Maybe that's a bit selfish. I suppose I need to be more aware of my place in the grand scheme of things and that each of us is as important as the other. Being removed from society - I was driven to the hospital in the back of a police van first time round - has the benefit of stopping all the nonsense but it also starts a whole ball rolling about reintegration. I've been at it since 1998 and, obviously, I'm still a beginner. It's pretty bad when the very people who set themselves up to help you out, turf you out. It's happened before. I was in a church hall for the night and wanted to stay longer so the good minister's assistants decided to throw me bodily out of the door. And then they called the police. Moral being that when you're down and out expect to get kicked in the nuts as well.

Really, my life is turning up trumps at the moment. I'm suffering setbacks but also some very wonderful things have been going on and I'll do my best to keep this whole tale as well balanced as I can. Stop me if I make too much heavy weather of it all. Anyway, I'm done for tonight but I'm beginning to get the hang of this so see you soon. All the best, Alan.

The Cruel Twist Of Fate

Thanks for your comment, Pam.

OK, here's how it goes: I spent a lovely couple of weeks over at L********n, the theraputic community. I've been there three or four times before on kind of trial visits and this was the best yet. True, I was feeling a bit washed out but I participated as much as I could and ended the stay having agreed to wait for a decision from the group as to whether I'd be welcome to join for a six-month stint. Back at mine I got the phone call saying that everyone would be happy to have me. Now, this was a real turning point because the funding was in place, I was willing and the green light was on. So, I began preparing myself. Now, coming from a 24/7 community back to my wee house was quite a difficult change to manage. I was excited. I was nervous. Often a dangerous combination. And so it proved.

I sent a couple of e-mails to the project manager to let him know how I was feeling. Then I sent a link for a site showing explicit pictures of "Nude Carrot Man", a rather amusingly-shaped orange vegetable which some artist had posted on the web. This was supposed to entertain because the work at Lothlorien is in the garden. I also ordered a package to be sent to two of the folk who stay at the community (one as a volunteer and the other as a resident). Now before I tell you what was in the package I ought to explain that I had been getting on well with people - surprisingly so. I found myself being more relaxed and open than normal. These two were particularly inventive in the humour department, one with a talkative sense of fun (the woman) and one with a dark, dry humour (the man). We'd discussed sexually-based topics in jest as many grown up children do. It was fun. Anyway, I sent a package of two (male and female) life-size naked inflatable plastic dolls from a toy store. Not REAL ones, just gimmicky ones. Anyway, the joke was that relationships are difficult and an easy answer could posssibly be found in blow-up partners. That was the intention. In fact, I had asked specifically for the dolls to be delivered on April Fools Day, when these kind of things are commonplace. Needless to say that the package was delivered early - before my postcard explaining how I was sending two "companions" reached the same address, knowing my luck in this matter - and I got a pretty swift reply from the other project worker stating that it had caused offence and hurt to those involved and withdrawing the offer sort of on the grounds that I didn't fit the ethics of the place and refering to "boundary" problems. I was away from home at the time and it's taken a week for the whole thing to sink in. I'm still struggling to make sense of this volte face and I'm feeling raw from the upset it caused. Truly BEYOND A JOKE! I'm flabbergasted that what was meant entirely as a bit of harmless fun has caused such a ruction. It throws me into all sorts of quandries and long dark nights. I've had to take a twelve-step moral inventory to salve my conscience and I'm dealing with the malovolent emotions the whole episode arouses.

Anyway, not to bother you with too many of the grim details. I had a terrible week; how was yours?

Background

Hiya, I'm signing in for the first time. Brian's given me a chance to give blogging a go so here it begins: I'm typing this in London at the mother of my daughter's flat. I've been coming down to visit every once in a while and things are going OK. The story is that when Mum had been pregnant for a few weeks, that's when I really lost the plot for the first time. Middle of winter, seven or eight years ago. I woke up in the middle of the night in a cold, cold sweat and basically it took me a year before two police people dragged me off the streets into hospital. I'm sure you'll believe me that it was altogether an exceptional experience. Anyway, I'm currently diagnosed schizo-affective and receiving treatment up in Scotland (east coast). Really, there's lots of stuff connected with being ill. I'd say it's become a FULL TIME occupation. But I'm hoping, over the course of the next few years, to get back off the books and into normal life again where psychiatry is seen as a slightly sinister profession and being schizo is definitely not something to shout about. In the meantime, Im happy enough to whitter on about what kind of thoughts go through my head if they're any interest to you and we'll see where we get to.

Mostly, I'm OK. Sometimes I go 'over the edge' and then I'm in trouble. Several times the cure has been to get into the local hospital, a large Victorian establishment out in amongst the green fields on the edge of a nearby town. The last time I became ill, I had to work through it on my ownsome and although it was tough I think it's kind of hammered the message home that I must LOOK AFTER myself. I'm sure the hospital staff would agree. I certainly feel more independent for it. Living more 'in the community'. I have a wee house in a wee village/town on the banks of the river Tay opposite Dundee. It's nice; quiet and homely. Although I don't have much in the way of friendly connections with the place. That may come in time. I've been there about four and a half years. It was the accommodation I ended up with after I'd been an in-patient. It's only in the last few months that I've finally settled in, enough to invite people round. I'm supposed to be attending the day hospital a couple of times a week but that's kind of fallen by the wayside so I don't have much to get me out and about at the moment. That's soon likely to change because I've been over at a residential centre in S.W. Scotland and I'm likely to be moving there for the summer. It's a rural theraputic community with gardens to work in and meals to prepare and a large wooden house to keep up. I'll tell you more later.

Maybe that's enough for tonight. Speak soon. All the best, Alan.