Moving on in more ways than one…

It’s ten days since I had the big chat with my GP and knew that my life had to change. Bipolar Disorder is a hard task master and at times it chains me to the wall and leaves me for dead.

I am still mourning the loss of overnight stays away but that is tempered a little by the knowledge that I can still have days away and see places that I haven’t yet. There’s lots of cemeteries that I have yet to see and many blue plaques to take photographs of.

I have come to realise over the past few weeks that my bouts of psychosis haven’t happened for a long time which means that, even though I feel as though I don’t cope with stress, I’m managing it to the point where the psychosis has subsided for a while.

I talked to a friend yesterday about all that has been going on. We had the conversation with each other that you usually wish you’d had when you’re at a close friend’s funeral. It was good to say the things that matter and I’ve felt calmer since. There are fewer tears today; there may be a flood of them again tomorrow but today I have dry eyes.

I got a standardised email that I felt was rather rude and challenged the person who sent it. She felt it wasn’t rude or patronising and didn’t think a sign off at the bottom was necessary. An angry tweet that I made on the public timeline led her to block me on her personal account and tweet in a way that I was totally responsible for her pettiness and thoughtlessness.

This is a prime example of why I don’t groups – they are basically cliques of people who cling together for whatever reason. They think that they’d be the cool kids if they were back at school but they’re the ones who used to gaze longingly at the cool kids while yearning to be part of the gang.

I can’t do it. I’m me and I’m not interested in become part of a “gang” that sticks together like a tin of cling peaches. Remind me of this next time I think about joining a group, tie me up if necessary but don’t let me do it!