Faster pussy cat, kill kill

I think I'm well and then I'm not.  I have mini epidisodes - like this afternoon, today.  I remember trying to explain the feeling to a pianist I once worked with.  I told him: "It's like riding something, going faster and faster and you're holding on so tight - but there's no fun in that feeling, it's just an intense feeling of mania - my brain is racing, I find myself so easily distracted, I'm panicking it's extreme anxiety and restlessness all at the same time." That's just one aspect of mania.  Then there's the fun bit.

"Faster pussy cat, kill kill."  I loved this movie - it is so ridiculous.  I once performed at the Scala cinema in London in the late 1980s - all the band members wore all white , they projected this movie on to us and the screen behind us.  It was fun.

I think I need to go into hospital (for probably three months).  I've spoken with my shrink about it but if I let go completely, which is what I really feel I need to do, then I risk my job, my home, and the stress on the family of my being sick. They know I am ill, but they have no idea how ill.  I'm hearing voices, having conversations, with others who are inside me.  Apparently that's quite common these days in people who have suffered trauma.  Well, tell me who hasn't suffered trauma?  My shrink says I'm really hard on myself.  When I tell her things that happened to me, sometimes she looks so sad.  I feel numb about most of the things that happened to me that apparently led to my illness being much worse than it could have been.  Something to do with the brain's development and children who suffered sexual or other abuse.

I'm working on a lot of very heavy stuff with my shrink at the moment.  I wondered if I should cancel my overseas trip - I'm travelling for a month.  I feel getting away from the ghastly stress of work will do me good, but I'm a bit scarred that I'm not well enough to travel.  I know the work stress is making me manic - causing a lot of it.  Very hard to deal with.  Very hard pretending I do not have a mental illness.  I wish there was no stigma about it any more.

I doubt if that stigma will end in my lifetime. No wonder people kill themselves.  Faster pussy cat, kill kill.  Maybe Russ Meyer was Bi Polar.

Down heading down down

Feeling so sad today, and very tired of the battle of Bi Polar life.

Tried listening to beautiful music and looking at images of beautiful clouds, meditation - perhaps if I hadn't done those things I would be unable to write.

I counted my blessings, and smiled a small smile just now.  That's a good sign I guess.

I watched five episodes of In Treatment on Saturday.  So well written, I cry sometimes when I watch that show.  Good to get the tears out, anyway.

Tomorrow again to the doctor, looks like more drugs on the way.

what goes up stays up

Oh shit.  Today my shrink pointed out that I'm still manic.  And she's correct.

I think this is my fault.  I didn't look after myself this weekend.  I took on more than I could handle and ended up with no quiet time.  This illness requires much solitude and quiet time, in order to survive in the normal  world. It's like being a dedicated musician, it takes hours of practice.

I got less than 4.5 hours sleep last night, after taking a Stillnox and Valium.  I'm off the mood-stabilisers - Doc is giving me one week to get non manic,  if I'm still manic next Tuesday we're going to try a low dose of some anti-psychotic drug instead.  Haven't been on those since the 90s in the UK. I lived there for quite a while. Then they gave me ten times the recommended dose just to shut me up and get me to sleep then (I guess excess dose cos I was comatose and walking,  just).

This woman is not me,  but I know where she may be coming from!

Had such a major psychotic episode then I was in hospital for months.  Feels like yesterday.  I'd be sad about it but I'm feeling pretty happy.  Up, up, up. :P

I work at staying out of loony bins.  But sometimes, the temptation to give in to the insanity is very tempting.  A son of a friend of the family is in hospital. He went in a few days ago. Same illness, major episode.  He's young, hopefully he'll learn how to manage eventually.  It takes practice.
 
That's for sure.

Abbey Lincoln died. :-(

What a great story teller she was with that voice.  I enjoyed her work, she leaves a great legacy.

Other great jazz singers who've gone now that I wish were still around (at their peaks) are Betty Carter, Sarah Vaughn, Mel Torme,  Peggy Lee, Nat King Cole, Ella Fitzgerald and Billie Holiday of course.

In Australia jazz singers were/are often dissed by the other musicians. I think that came from the time when some jazz artists played music but couldn't read it or write their own charts.  Fair enough, if you get up on stage as a jazz artist and don't know what key you're singing in and can't count in your own tune: you ought to be dissed.  In fact, you should be thrown out of the club and told never to return.  Aargh!  I've seen/heard enough of that to understand the negativity towards singers, but then there are singers who are real artists.

There's one here in Australia called Michelle Nicolle, I think she loves Abbey Lincoln's work too.

www.michellenicolle.com 

Michelle Nicolle is a great musician, such an amazing artist she probably won't ever make a lot of money. To her detriment she is a purist, rather than a showbiz type.  If you love jazz check her out.  She is probably one of the greatest vocal improvisers performing live today.  I'd put her on a level with Dianne Reeves.  Very different style though.  She did a gig in Fremantle once at the Jazz festival in West Australia where Kurt Elling called her up on stage, she had no idea that was going to happen. She was in jeans and t-shirt, no makeup, no shoes on just lying on the grass drinking wine and enjoying the show.  He asked for her to come up she did, they did a Blues and Elling declared she won.  And she had!  The thousand plus crowd went crazy.

Bye bye Abbey, thanks for the journey.

Survived a manic episode once again! :-)

Thanks to the right drugs, support from family and friends and a great Doctor/Shrink I'm off the mood stabilisers and back to a  healthy, happy, grounded me.

The desire to SHOUT OUT LOUD

My mum.

She always wanted to go to Argetina to learn to tango.  Too late now.



I feel like screaming loud about this and at the same time feel tremendous guilt.

My mother has friends who are demanding and needy and ALWAYS have been. 

My mother has always collected extremely needy friends who have tragic lives who need her to mother them. ALL her friends are like this. I can't think of any of her close friends (many are now dead) who have not rung or visited for long regular unofficial counselling sessions with my mother. This has been going on since I was a child. The house was always full of other people who needed my mother.

I can only recall three months in my life with my parents when other people weren't living in our house because they needed my mother's help. Other kids, other adults, all needy, needy, needy. The fuckers.

My mother is worn out and exhausted and, still they keep coming, and she keeps giving, and I fucking resent it so much because I have to look after my mother and I want her to have fun and look after herself BEFORE anyone else just for a change.  Also I'm t pathetic 'maiden' (hah) aunt, doomed to tend to the parents until she (me) is a dried up old hag.

My mother is beginning to lose her marbles - perhaps because she is so stressed out over all her needy friends who have dementia, sick grandchildren, are alcoholics, or chronic gamblers or a combo of any of the above. Mother of course has me to worry about, a daughter with a major mental health problem, plus my brother and my crazy sister and their kids. Then there's the rest of the world.  

What tipped the 'I want to shout' balance was yesterday, she put my cashmere coat into a shopping trolley to bring it into the house - I found it this morning, crumpled and in a ball in the trolley.  


The coat is one I treasure. I was helping her pack to go visit one of her needy friends with gifts of new duvet covers and cushions for their home, as they are finally coming out of hospital. I washed the quilt cover and put it on, packed everything up for Mum so it would be easier for her. I suggested she take the trolley so it would be easier for her to manage the light, but bulky load. She agreed.

I found my crumpled coat stuffed into the trolley.  I then wanted to shout very loudly at her. I resisted the urge.

I asked her if she put it in the trolley and she said "yes, when we came back from the market, yesterday, but I forgot about it, sorry." I told her I'd just had it dry cleaned. "Oh did you?"

I couldn't look at her, I was so mad.

Then I helped her into her car with all the things for her friend in hospital.

I am still furious about the coat but more about decades of my watching mother always putting the world before her self (and - selifshly - before me!) Grrrrrrrrrrrrr.

I am furious that I am dong 80 percent of the caring for my mother.  My family need to do more, but she lies to them about how ill/tired she is.  

I end up doing most of the nurturing and right now I feel like I'm the one who needs the nurturing, in this sick, goat fucked, dysfunctional family of ours. Yes, I am having a selfish tantrum, but I feel like it.

I see my shrink Tuesday. Thank God for that.