Live by the blood glucose meter, die by the blood glucose meter

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“That’s right. My Type Two Diabetes is under control. Moth. Er. Fuck. Er. I got a 7.2 reading on my metre today. A seven point fucking two. Three weeks ago I was bouncing between 12 and 18. Three weeks before that I couldn’t get below 24. Six months ago I was trapped between 26 and 33+. Eight years ago I was an eighteen… today I’m a seven point two.”
“Drawing A Line In The Enamel With A 7.2 Blood Sugar Level”, Me; December 17, 2008

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Facing the reality of my situation has never been difficult for me. I know who I am, and where I’ve brought myself. It’s the next step, reacting to the reality, that’s always been difficult.

I know what’s wrong, I can point to it and stare at it all day. I can even explain what’s wrong, and possibly offer a few solutions. Maybe I get overwhelmed easily when a solution doesn’t immediately present itself.

I know I have diabetes, yet I chose to do nothing to make myself better.

Here’s the thing: after Chernobyl** the Ukrainian government put a giant clock in Kiev. On days with low radiation, or days when it was safe to be outside without a radiation suit, the clock flashed green. On days when you could cook a Pizza Pop by holding it slightly away from your body, the clock flashed red.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, crazy people with no pants, Diabetes, Health, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health | Tagged | 13 Comments

I spy with my red little eye something that is…

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I’ve been crying steadily for almost two weeks now… but only out of one eye, and mostly because it’s infected, but there are times when it feels real. Like I’m actually crying for an emotional reason, and the infection is a convenient cover.

There have been moments, some long, some not, over the past few weeks when it feels like I’m worn out enough… or worn down enough, that I just want to lay down in the snow. Or disconnect my phone service and retract the staircase to my second storey apartment.

It was my birthday a few days ago. I told my girlfriend, when she asked, that I’d like to just stay in, watch TV and eat apples. Or something. Not because I wanted to be alone, or alone with her, but because I knew the other options would all fail.

The last remaining people in this village I can call “friends” without feeling like I’m lying, are in England until March. If anyone else I had once been friends with had showed up at a party I’d have known it was out of guilt. Or I’d feel guilty for having lost touch.

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Posted in Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, CSG, Depression, Family, Granny, Health, Little Victor, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health | Tagged | 6 Comments

The Fifth Of Five Lists: My Brain Injuries

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The Fifth Of Five Lists: My Brain Injuries: One of the most important tools to my recovery has been lists. A year into my recovery I started making lists to sort out my memories, including embarrassing memories, favourite movies, friends I’ve lost and the fifty-two places I’ve lived. Getting them out on paper has allowed me to place important events which were otherwise confused and scrambled into some order. In my opinion these lists can be very helpful to someone with manic depression or clinical depressions as a means of putting perspective into our lives. As proof I’m offering my lists.

This is a list of definite brain injuries I’ve suffered over the years. I was knocked unconscious at least three times between the ages of seven and twelve, and again when I was seventeen. I’m not sure if that’s considered a little, or a lot… but it feels significant.

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There were other head-centred injuries, which were basically concussions where, afterwards, I saw stars and was woozy for an hour or two. But, from what I can remember (heh), there were only the four times when I was knocked out. It’s strange, I’ve been trying to put together this list for weeks, but the more I try to remember these incidents the faster they fade away.

The idea for this list came long before I found out about the research into the brains of professional athletes. The research is showing a direct link between multiple concussions and severe depression. I’m fairly sure that I don’t qualify, I never played in the NFL, and I never had four or five concussions in a month. but I also haven’t read anything defining “multiple”.

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“While most people recover from concussions, a few experience persistent problems with memory or other neurological functions. Doctors believe individuals who experience severe or multiple concussions may be at a greater risk for neurological disease later in life than the average person… . Researchers know concussions disrupt chemical reactions in the brain and this imbalance may be what leads to depression.” — Harvard Medical School Family Health Guide, 2003

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I started exhibiting the symptoms of manic depression when I was, roughly, seventeen. So I doubt my head injuries are to blame for the severe depression and manias I went through from 1987 until, roughly, 2009. But the damage from even a single concussion can effect the rest of your life, and there are many studies connecting concussions suffered in early adulthood to severe depression in middle age.

The symptoms are also very similar, at least between post-concussion syndrome (PCS) and unipolar depression. According to the Mayo Clinic, the symptoms of PCS include “headaches, dizziness, fatigue, irritability, anxiety, insomnia, loss of concentration and memory, and noise and light sensitivity”.

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Posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, Health, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health, Salted Lists | 3 Comments

My dreams have become disillusioned with my reality

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This week I had a remarkable dream. It was 1992 and I was standing in front of my girlfriend, and we were arguing.

…there were several times while we dated where I could barely scrape together the $1.50 in bus fare to get to her place in Blackburn Hamlet. So, after the movie or dinner or whatever, Mary would either drive me home, or give me some change for the ride back.

But occasionally we would get into an argument over something fairly stupid, and I’d leave. I’d get halfway to the bus stop before realizing I had no way to pay for a bus ride, so I’d have to go back, knock on her door and ask her for change.

There was one occasion where we actually broke up (over three years there were a few break ups) when she admitted to me she had cheated with a school friend — a driveway blowjob in his Camaro. I told her it was over and left. A few minutes later I had to knock on her door and ask for change. It was something like a ten or twelve mile walk back to my place, and it was late. I don’t think I had a choice.

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Posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, Health, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mary, Mental Health | Leave a comment

Stuff I did today (yesterday edition)

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I’m trying to get this blog thing back on track… so it’s back to blogging basics.

This is some of the stuff I did today (which is now yesterday)… most of this is chronologically random.

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I cooked for myself. It was just potatoes and onions fried up with two eggs, but I’ve done it every day for almost a week now.

I cook fairly regularly for my girlfriend — chicken, she loves my hamburgers, spaghetti, stuff. But generally when I’m cooking just for me it’s coming straight from a can or the freezer or, more likely, from the Chinese restaurant the next town over.

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Posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, crazy people with no pants, CSG, Health, Little Victor, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health, Poverty | 8 Comments

My grandmother apologizes then spends twenty minutes telling me why she’s not sorry

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My grandmother has apologized for her behaviour last February. We met at a local restaurant, and she did it right after the waitress took my lunch order.

Ten months ago she attacked me for having had a baby with my girlfriend. Among a number of vile comments she told me my son should have been aborted, and that I should have a paternity test.

On Thursday, just after noon, my grandmother put her head down slightly, stared at her placemat, and said “well, I asked you here so I could apologize… so, I apologize for the things I said and the way I said them.” [there are no direct quotes in this piece*]

I was stunned. I’m fairly certain I’ve never heard the words “I apologize” ever cross my grandmother’s lips.

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Posted in Bipolar, Bipolar Disease, Bipolar Disorder, Clinical Depression, crazy people with no pants, Granny, Health, Living With Depression, Living With Manic Depression, Manic Depression, Mental Health | Tagged | 11 Comments