Wednesday, 30 April 2014

Not What I Was Expecting.

Nobody expects the Spanish Inquisition!

Do you all remember that wonderful sketch from Monty Python? If you've forgotten it – here's the link http://bit.ly/1nzzyKO

Of course, the point is, as the sketch develops, everybody does expect the Spanish Inquisition, with its weaponry of fear, surprise, ruthless efficiency and an almost fanatical devotion to the pope. Oh, and not forgetting the soft cushions and comfy chair!

So, five years into my Bipolar 2 diagnosis, and having carefully analysed the previous thirty-eight years I thought I knew exactly what to expect this time round.

Apparently, the majority of people with bi-polar would not choose to be cured/healed if they had the option. This is because, although the depression bit is pretty grim, the mania or hypo mania or "up" part is just wonderful.

And I was really looking forward to mine.

It was due to kick in anywhere from April to June, last three to six months and I'd mentally scheduled my "shut down" period for September when all that lovely energy would abruptly drain out and the depression would swallow me whole. It had happened almost every time before. Surely the pattern would repeat again.

In the "up" period everything is easy. I would lose the 20lb I've put on this year comfort eating after the death of my uncle, I would put a whole load of work into business marketing; there were several personal development seminars and workshops I'd planned on taking...

Instead, the depression has showed up five months early without giving me the high first. Bummer!

Oh well; you know what they say about the best laid plans of mice and men* (or just mice, if you're a Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy fan)?
 
So, shut down everything that can be shut down (emergency low level lighting only, please), call in the rescue and support teams, send out the distress signals, hunker down and concentrate on just surviving until the dirty black fog lifts again.

While I'd love to spend this time muttering about how it's just not fair and "Where is my "up"? ", it would be just as useless as the mice wailing "Who moved my cheese?"

So I'll just get on with the surviving bit. Don't mind me – I'll just be humming a little hum, like Pooh.
Ho Hum. (sigh)
Hum Ho. (sound of shuffling)
Tiddly om pom pom... Tiddly om pomp om...

Mary
A Moodscope member.

* Apparently they "gang aft agley".