Whenever I express the urge to experience a bit more normality in my wonderful roller coaster of a life, I seem to be met with the question, “But what is normal anyway?” I am probably guilty of having said it to others. I certainly have stated normality to be overrated on many occasions, and even once in an online dating profile claimed that, “If you’re the kind of guy who describes himself as ‘nice and normal’ you’re probably not for me. I can’t think of anything more boring!” So why now am I suddenly craving just a little more normal? 

Ok, firstly, as I’ve brought up the dating thing, I guess this year I got my fingers burned through my attraction for the ‘not-so-nice-and-normal’ man. I’d love to say I have learned from the experience, but if I’m honest I knew Andy was no good for me before I ever got involved. I acted out of loneliness, hypomania and the influence of alcohol. A rather potent combination I might add, and a place I may at some point find myself again (if I’m not extremely mindful of my vulnerability). So I guess, should I ever come around to feeling up to dating again, Mr Nice and Normal may not be such a bad option. Balancing out some of my crazy rather than adding to it may actually be a positive.

Anyhow, I digress, this is not a dating kind of post. Let’s not go there. I told my previous Care Coordinator that if I ever even so much as looked as if I was going to join a dating site again, he had total permission to put the wheels into motion to get me sectioned, as clearly I had taken leave of my senses. This was just prior to ending up with Andy. Oh the irony.

Still, normality. I have noticed recently how my Bipolar has been holding me back. The cocktail of meds I can cope with. The early nights I can accept, on the whole. Living without drinking alcohol, or maybe just having an occasional one, that I have no problem with. What gets me is just how much of my time and energy goes into surviving my extremes of mood. It leaves me exhausted. I’m surviving but not living. And I’ve just realised how much that is frustrating me. I have been a little bit up, though not worryingly so, and I’ve been able to achieve some new things (more of that in a moment), but I’m tired, and constantly nagging at the back of my mind is, “When am I going to crash?” 

I asked my nurse if I could see my psychiatrist to review my mood stabiliser, and I now have an appointment in the system. The current medication I have been taking for the last year and a half, and I am still swinging high to low like there’s no tomorrow. Just asking felt like a huge deal, because I kind of get the impression that if I’m not causing the Community Mental Health Team a lot of hassle, they are content to just let me be. I have realised however that I am not content. I want my life back, not merely an existence. And I’m aware that a meds change (if the doc agrees to it) is a huge gamble in its own right. There’s no guarantees in mental health, but I can’t bear this non-life.

My nurse has actually acknowledged how hard I work to monitor and manage my moods. In the past, some of the CMHT have openly criticised my emotional disregulation, and I’m the first to admit, sometimes it’s flipping hard to keep a lid on things. In addition to my Bipolar diagnosis I have traits of Emotionally Unstable Personality Disorder, so I think it’s kind of understandable, and clearly having a go when I’m distressed is such a wonderfully therapeutic intervention. Not. However, even my nurse seems to be backing me up on this occasion. Time will tell.

Anyway, in the meantime I have been working on the aim I set myself in September, to devote time to self development, and doing (particularly the creative) things I enjoy. I did get a bit distracted for a while, a wave of emotional fallout from the assault followed by a series of significant difficult dates knocked me off course a bit, but I’m coming back! I have an assessment for counselling next week with a different organisation (as RASAC had said they couldn’t even assess me until January). I started a self-confidence course last week and an autobiography group this week both through Mind, am continuing a creative writing course, and I am in rehearsals with two choirs for three different Christmas performances. At my usual choir’s concert, held in the performance space of our local library, I will be doing a solo piece. I am beyond excited! The Christmas concert is pretty much the pinnacle of our year, is always a sellout, and raises loads of money for small local children’s charities. You could say I’m feeling pretty positive right now, and I’m aware as readers, echoes of ‘hypo’ may be lurking furtively in your minds, but I’m actually surprisingly grounded. I’m aware I’m a bit up, but am sticking rigidly to my bedtime routine, resting up on the days I have free, eating reasonably well, and being realistic about my priorities if something has to give. And I haven’t even remotely written a book or tried to go back to uni this month (yet!)

I’m taking things as they come, bearing in mind it may not last, but just trying to enjoy the fabulous opportunities that have afforded themselves to me at the moment. As I say it’s incredibly hard work keeping a balance but I feel a strength in myself I had lost touch with and I’m taking full advantage of that. A choir friend I was speaking to recently got me thinking – she pointed out how she’d only known me since I’d been ill and what must I be like when I’m well and what must my potential be? It sparked a dissatisfaction in me to not just accept surviving, and to strive for a little normal amidst the chaos.

Thanks for reading 👼🏼