Put a candle in the window
And pray for my return.
Who I’ll be no-one knows
How I’ll be is faint. . .
But return I might,
And then, my loves,
A life might begin!
Forest Cottage, the night before Sandton Clinic for ECT*
16/6 11:48pm
*You might know it as electro-convulsive therapy or shock treatment
Into the Valley of Death I go,
With no six hundred round about.
No – alone toward the foe.
“Tie me to my saddle, boy, tie the sword to my hand”
“Stand back, turn away, forget.”
I’ve done it before on other fronts . . .
“Lash me to the wheel, me hearties, stop my ears against the song
Of the sirens”
“Stand back, turn away, forget.”
For the foe is me,
Malignant self that fights and rails within a breast
That any God would have would live,
In peace,
For sons,
With a maiden fair.
Ripe bones softening in the sun,
Ripe wine mellowing the autumn of a life well summered.
With laughter, love and kindred spirits sharing in the peaceful evenings of a life ably spent
Until friendly messengers from Avalon
Arrive to take across the peaceful, misty waters
To an afterlife serene.
Wonderful reverie…
But, my soul, say farewell – this is never mine.
Step back.
Turn away.
Forget.
Forest Cottage, the night before Sandton Clinic for ECT*
16/6 9:43pm
*You might know it as Electro-Convulsive Therapy or shock treatment
Me Soul, companion, lover of my heart,
You and I,
Alone.
Soul Together
KM Where shall we wander?
Should it be to far off lands, or
Should it be close to home?
Soul Ah, but where is home?
If we knew would we not be there?
KM We would, we would …
And if we go far, what of our sons?
Soul They can’t join us (no matter how heavy our sorrow)
Our realms are not theirs
Where we’re headed they can’t go
KM But our farewell must be sufficient to take us through the journey.
Let us remember to drink in the sweetness of their laughter,
The warmth of their embrace
And keep these in our innermost,
Until,
Perhaps …
Soul Once upon a miracle …
KM We will reunite …
On a plane, Cape Town – Johannesburg, Going for ECT*
15/6/99
*You might know it as electro-convulsive therapy or shock treament
So, a stay of execution in favour of brain modification.
In two days I go under the electrodes.
Last attempt at getting anywhere with this head of mine.
But let’s face things as they are:
There will be no familiar face when I wake up from the anaesthetic;
No-one will hold my hand, rub my face, ask how I am.
I know there are many that love me and who would support me, but how do you share this kind of news with your friends?
And those who know me best, who’ve been inside the storms with me?
Well, I’m not going to burden L, I’m not her husband anymore, I’ve forfeited the right.
S, who I would really want there, has shown she just can’t deal with madness. No blame there…
I even created an unexpected trip to Cape Town to see the family (I’m on the plane back home as I write) but between my parents’ joyful recollections of their holiday and my sister’s excitement at her trip to the US tomorrow I couldn’t bring myself to tell them.
Nobody knows I am about to have my head electrified as a last resort to regain some health and find for my soul a way out of the demon-inhabited, dark night of my thoughts.
Just me.
So I’ll just keep on smiling as I them all from my detached, distant viewpoint.
A hundred miles away inside my head.
Shielded by the eye of my storm.
On a plane, Cape Town -> Johannesburg
Going for ECT
12/6
So I've done the responsible thing... I've gone back on the meds. Those sparks in the brain that one experiences withdrawing from venlafaxine (Venlor/Effexor) were bad, but lasted not as long as the forums suggested. I've had them when I missed even one day. They are just like sparks - the 'tshick' sound of a static discharge accompanied by a mounting dizziness, all adding up to disorientation both physically and mentally. Of course I expected them so I made the move during a week of work downtime, hoping to minimize the impact on my life and those around me. All in all I planned it pretty well, I thought, though I did make one big mistake: I went paragliding on day 2. The air was rough - 'rock 'n roll' we call it - and between being thrown about by bumpy thermals and the disorientation in my head I was really scared. And nauseous. It's been years since I thought I wouldn't survive a flight. So why back on? Well, my life has been falling apart. I expected the aggressive, angry dreams and mid-sleep panic attacks and being woken up -drenched in sweat - by a frightened wife. They also happen if you miss a dose for only a day. The tingling arms and numb fingers I also expected. But the short temper, the eruptions of unmasked anger... too much pain for me and my wife and my colleagues. And with the anxiolytic (anti-anxiety) effect being gone as well, things weren't easy to navigate. One of my many past psychologists told me that people experiencing anxiety present themselves for treatment sooner than those with any other symptoms. I apparently have 'Generalised Anxiety Disorder', co-morbid with the Bipolar I, and I know well the fear that knots in your gut well. I've trained myself to dissociate from it, to recognise the thoughts it generates as false. However, with everything else going I couldn't tell the difference between true angst, real danger, and the false fears arising from deep within the lizard brain that controls these things. First I went back on just the Lamictin to try get some stability. I hoped that might temper the swings and make me less reactive but it wasn't enough so after last week's relationship damage at home and at work I started the venlafaxine again. Lower doses of both so far, and I'll monitor closely. I'm thankful that I haven't lost my self-knowledge and the ability to see myself from outside so as to know what's going on. Now to try repair the relationship damage...
Given the latest historical diary entry I posted, about rejecting the medical model, there’s thick irony in the fact that I ditched everything last week. My meds, that is.
I haven’t mentioned to date but I wrote those diary entries more than a decade ago. So while I know that the wheel just keeps on turning, it’s not too cheering that it feels like it’s back where it was all those years ago.
Now for the record, I am a trained professional – my first prescription for psychotropics was in 1985 – and the stunt of going off your meds is extremely dangerous so don’t try this at home!
I will say so far that the withdrawals are way worse than I expected . . . but I guess that’s all part of the process…
Be back soon.
Morituri te Salutam
Sane or not?
Keep your labels
Keep your judgements and your boxes
Keep your methods, your teachers, your gurus
Keep the drugs, the wards, the shocks and the shots
No more eye of newt, hair of dog, dreamt up by witches and quacks
No more
Johannesburg 10/6
Mood Meter: Way up | Up | Neutral | Down | Way down
