Weather supposed to be fantastic tomorrow and I am seriously thinking I should take myself out for a long, long hike.
I thought I was "picking up" but for some reason I still feel very much on "the edge". It is damn annoying and I am tearful with everything, including bloody Emmerdale!!!!!
Doctor Mac, my psychiatrist has taken an in house job and a locum is to take his place. 7 years with the same psych doc then you need to see a locum. It's not good. It's not ideal but it's life! I think I should phone tomorrow and make sure an appointment has been made.
I have taken a step back from Unfairpak and Sharon has been fabulous at keeping up with emails and keeping the site running. I do feel guilty but I just cannot cope with it just now. Everything seems to be piling on me and I cannot figure how to shove it all off, to ease the burden on my shoulders, to bring myself back to a sense of "normality".
The weather has not helped. I detest the rain and dark, cloudy days. However, today was sunny and I still felt "down".
The kids are off and here I am thinking "what can I do". I have a night out with the girls on Friday and am not particularly looking forward to same but I will go and hopefully that will lift my mood.
Bipolar stinks big time!!!! I do have many "masks" but even my masks are not working.
I gave a short interview to Richard from the Telegraph today so that he could talk about Unfairpak in a lecture he is giving regarding campaigning and the power of the internet. He said, probably quite rightly, that Unfairpak was more than likely the very first, successful campaign that was run through the internet. That is prolly why Paul from the Herald pushes me to write my book but there is no motivation there and there damn well should be as this is my story to tell.
In the words of WillIam if you feel it say "HELL YEH" but I don't "feel it". I want to. I want to say "Suzy get writing that fricking book", "Suzy, give yourself credit for your achievements and that of your colleagues on Unfairpak" but I can't. Sounds stupid, don't it?
The best thing for me tomorrow is drag myself out of bed, get my hiking boots on and walk - for miles - it will clear my head HOPEFULLY!!!!!!
I will TRY!
Tuesday, 7 August 2012
Monday, 6 August 2012
Please Hear What I Am Saying
Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the face I wear For I wear a mask, a thousand masks, Masks that I’m afraid to take off And none of them is me.
Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me, but don’t be fooled, for God’s sake don’t be fooled. I give you the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water’s calm and I’m in command and that I need no one, but don’t believe me.
My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don’t want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it.That is, if it is followed by acceptance, If it is followed by love. It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself from my own self-built prison walls from the barriers that I so painstakingly erect. It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I can’t assure myself, that I’m really worth something. But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare to. I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid you’ll think less of me, that you’ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I’m afraid that deep-down I’m nothing and that you will see this and reject me.
So I play my game, my desperate, pretending game With a façade of assurance without And a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of Masks, And my life becomes a front. I tell you everything that’s really nothing, and nothing of what’s everything,of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying, what I’d like to be able to say,what for survival I need to say,but what I can’t say.
I don’t like hiding. I don’t like playing superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you’ve got to help me. You’ve got to hold out your hand even when that’s the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you’re kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings – very small wings, but wings!
With your power to touch me into feeling you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator–an honest-to-God creator –of the person that is me if you choose to.You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from the shadow-world of panic,from my lonely prison, if you choose to. Please choose to.
Do not pass me by.It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.The nearer you approach me the blinder I may strike back. It’s irrational, but despite what the books may say about man often I am irrational.I fight against the very thing I cry out for.But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope.Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well.For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet.
~By Charles C. Finn~
Pretending is an art that’s second nature with me, but don’t be fooled, for God’s sake don’t be fooled. I give you the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without, that confidence is my name and coolness my game, that the water’s calm and I’m in command and that I need no one, but don’t believe me.
My surface may be smooth but my surface is my mask, ever-varying and ever-concealing. Beneath lies no complacence. Beneath lies confusion, and fear, and aloneness. But I hide this. I don’t want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade, to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows.
But such a glance is precisely my salvation, my only hope, and I know it.That is, if it is followed by acceptance, If it is followed by love. It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself from my own self-built prison walls from the barriers that I so painstakingly erect. It’s the only thing that will assure me of what I can’t assure myself, that I’m really worth something. But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare to. I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid you’ll think less of me, that you’ll laugh, and your laugh would kill me. I’m afraid that deep-down I’m nothing and that you will see this and reject me.
So I play my game, my desperate, pretending game With a façade of assurance without And a trembling child within. So begins the glittering but empty parade of Masks, And my life becomes a front. I tell you everything that’s really nothing, and nothing of what’s everything,of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine do not be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m not saying, what I’d like to be able to say,what for survival I need to say,but what I can’t say.
I don’t like hiding. I don’t like playing superficial phony games. I want to stop playing them. I want to be genuine and spontaneous and me but you’ve got to help me. You’ve got to hold out your hand even when that’s the last thing I seem to want. Only you can wipe away from my eyes the blank stare of the breathing dead. Only you can call me into aliveness. Each time you’re kind, and gentle, and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings – very small wings, but wings!
With your power to touch me into feeling you can breathe life into me. I want you to know that. I want you to know how important you are to me, how you can be a creator–an honest-to-God creator –of the person that is me if you choose to.You alone can break down the wall behind which I tremble,you alone can remove my mask, you alone can release me from the shadow-world of panic,from my lonely prison, if you choose to. Please choose to.
Do not pass me by.It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls.The nearer you approach me the blinder I may strike back. It’s irrational, but despite what the books may say about man often I am irrational.I fight against the very thing I cry out for.But I am told that love is stronger than strong walls and in this lies my hope.Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands but with gentle hands for a child is very sensitive.
Who am I, you may wonder? I am someone you know very well.For I am every man you meet and I am every woman you meet.
~By Charles C. Finn~
FRIED
I reached burn out at the beginning of last week. It crept up on me rather sneakily and before I could do anything about it, I was completely fried. I literally could not organise a piss up in a brewery and I am probably one of the best, not blowing my own trumpet, organisers that there is.
Mandy had asked me to organise girl's night out and I could not do it. I stared at the computer thinking "how do I create an event", "where are we gonna eat", "are we gonna eat before the show", "who is booking show tickets......" and on and on and on it went. My mind was GONE!!!!!!!
I was supposed to fly down to Manchester for a meeting on Tuesday and I had to cancel and do it via conference call which wiped me out also.
It has been a week of resting up and sleeping for as long as possible - the record hitting 14 hours!!!!
I am feeling so much better now but it scared me how easily it had crept up. "It" being my shitty bi polar.
I have been OCD'ing over Farepak for weeks now and cramming in loads for Marie Curie, it was bound to take it's toll and it did - big time!!!!
The kids are off tomorrow. Chloe to her Great Uncle's and Roo to his dad's for a couple of days. I think it will do me the world of good not to be "mum" for a few days. I love them dearly but I find the summer holidays so long, as do most parents I guess, however somehow having this crap illness makes it worse.
I am doing an interview with a journalist from the Telegraph tomorrow regarding campaigners and the use of Twitter. It sounds rather exciting as he is looking to do a lecture re same and I felt quite privileged that he contacted me specifically.
I am also heading out tomorrow night for a couple of drinks which I am rather looking forward to I must say.
Wednesday will be an 'easy' day and Thursday the kids come home. However, they are both off to their grandparents on Friday as I have the girl's night out (Mandy arranged it once she realised my organisational skills had went to pot - have to say she did a grand job)!!! So we are eating Mexican and going to see Craig Hill at Underbelly and then a few drinks afterwards. Not many as the majority of us have Walk Ten for Marie Curie on Saturday.
Ruaraidh and I working Walk Ten. We have one of the most amazing jobs ever. We are responsible for the 'memory bags' which have messages cut out and we fill them with sand and insert a tea light. When the walkers return from their 10k, the memory bags are all lit up. Chloe is walking for Marie Curie. I am so proud of her and she is hoping to raise around £50.
So, I began last week 'fried' but by taking care of myself, resting up, indulging in a few pamper sessions, I am now back to myself. It's good to be BACK ;O)
Laters peeps xxxxxx
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