Blot on the landscape

Always no sometimes think it's me. But you know I know when it's a dream. I think er no I mean er yes but it's all wrong. That is I think I disagree. Let me take you down 'cause I'm going to strawberry fields. Nothing is real and nothing to get hung about. Strawberry fields forever. The Beatles. Strawberry Fields Forever. One aspect of taking anti depressants that hasn’t been raised when they have been prescribed, but has been acknowledged whenever I’ve talked about it, are the dreams on a night time.  I’m not talking the usual stuff where we all likely dream from time to time and often forget. These are full on, chaotic, nonsensical dreams that seem to last all night and feel incredibly real and I can recall in great detail, once I’ve taken a good half hour or so to come round from them. Some have occasionally made some sense, in they would include former colleagues and included going back to work as a nurse on the wards, but even then I spent most of the dream try

I woke up in the darkness and I tried to see the clock It was four a.m I was curled up like a foetus and my muscles were stretched taut I couldn't face the burden of another week of worry I was broken I took a green and yellow pill, washed down with filter coffee 'Til it kicked in Get me out Keep me up Level me out Killing Joke. Prozac People.  Met with my new Consultant Psychiatrist yesterday for the first time. I’ve felt my mood slipping and was aware I was becoming irritable, which is a danger marker we’ve identified for monitoring my mood and need for medication. So we agreed to double my dose of Venlafaxine and keep the Mirtazapine as it is, leaving an option to increase it if needed. I’ve lost count as to how many changes of medication I’ve had so far. I know Venlafaxine is my fifth anti depressant of this year, but with each one, there’s also been changes of doses too. I’m keeping faith that we will find the right medication and treatment, but boy it’s a long slog and to

Ain't no use, you ain't that sluiced Don't tie that noose, it's just abuse Don't take that ride, it's suicide You cut your wrist, You tried and missed. You're in a rut You gotta get out of it - out of it - out of it - out of it -out of it. You're in a rut, You gotta get out of it, out of it - out of it... out of it! The Ruts. In a Rut. It’s International Men’s Day today. Who knew? A good day to check in with your mates to see how they are doing.  We’ve had a wobbly start today. A news item popped up on my wife’s social media feed reporting on an inquest around a man’s death at the same location I had chosen earlier this year to be my solution. Reading the words in black and white of what must have been a truly harrowing experience for his family, not only his death, but the subsequent inquest and the uncertainty it will doubtless forever leave, really hit home, not just to me, but more so my wife.  It was only the 3rd September, nine months after walking

l look inside myself And see my heart is black I see my red door I must have it painted black Maybe then, I'll fade away And not have to face the facts It's not easy facing up When your whole world is black The Rolling Stones. Paint it Black. I’ve not blogged for a while as life has just been trundling on really. The Californian Rocket Fuel combo of Mirtazapine and Venlafaxine provided an initial respite, but the past few days I’ve been more aware of simple daily tasks once again becoming a challenge. A combination of conversations prompted me to write again today, all were very positive ones, including an appointment  with my community mental health nurse where we discussed medication and reflected on progress, a meet with my mental health trust’s CEO to discuss my experience of care, an inspiring hour with a crisis service team member who has lived experience and an exciting planning meeting with a multi disciplinary team overseeing a case study that I’ll write about another

You raise me up when I'm on the floor You see me through when I'm lonely and scared And I'm feeling true to the written word And you're true to me but still I need more It would tear me apart to feel no one ever cared The Mission. Tower of Strength. Its been a crap weekend, waiting for an email that never came. I know I’ve been on edge and we’ve spent most of our time clearing cupboards and tidying the house, to distract my thoughts and to hang on to positivity.  I received one of the most thoughtful and kind emails earlier this week that I think I’ve ever seen. I won’t name who it came from, but can say they don’t know me all that well. But what I will say is the amount of care and time that was put into the message gave me a huge uplift and I read the message multiple times. I do want to share how they signed off.  “Meantime please don’t feel any obligation to reply to this. I know how difficult it can be to deal with things when your mind isn’t right and I wouldn’t w

Don't it make you sick when they say trust me I'm your friend? You know there must be some election coming round again And what about when someone calls you haven't seen in years? You know they're after something when they break down in tears. Mega City Four. Finish. Another Monday. Last week I definitely saw some progress. The new meds seem to be lifting my mood, I had days where I felt productive and was able to speak to a few folk on video calls. I don’t want to get too excited as I’ve had instant lifts in mood from other anti depressants, but this feels different this time.  I’m enjoying listening to music and have started reading Gary Numan’s new autobiography, so that’s all good. It was nice today, albeit for very sad reasons, to be contacted by a few people from the media seeking quotes about football and dementia. A reminder that a big part of me that my illness has removed from me, is still there.  Whilst I’ve tried to avoid following too much of the news, it’s