Thursday, 23 April 2015

Cyclone







Caught in the Cyclone - A phenomenon of being utterly at the mercy of your mercurial moods. 

Insidiously it has a proclivity to be just subtle enough that it prevents realisation of presence, a semblance of control or balance for a short while, it appears and disappears (Widzę Cię), potentially, a damn diagnosable disorder! 
Though, what comfort there is in having your disordered mind ordered into a category by another I know not?! It soothes neither sign nor significance, maybe even creates complacence.

I probe a lot and I do recognise changes in me, evolution. Things might not necessarily be better but are less difficult to live with, not quite easier, never concrete or clear, but, not as confusing. Unlike my prolix, obstreperous prose...

Picking up on patterns and pinning down problems don't quite cut the mustard at times though, and those times, like this time, I so want (no, I don't want that, I just really feel I need it sometimes, I never wanted) to revert to old destructive ways, cutting a different kind of corpulent confectionary, to douse with a condiment more jarring even than that piquant mustard, pleading blood.

A year and two months ago I wrote this (about the previous year still) to someone I feel love for.


The way you wrote your last message, it was so considered and beautiful, it's easy (for a lazy coward like myself) to feel crushed by the weakness of my language. It's odd, I've been feeling very up and down the past year, in my (occasionally dizzying) ups I am filled with love, grateful to have known or had contact with such wonderful humans, even if time has elapsed since contact. In those moments, I'm so full of something, fit to burst with it, I am energy, vigour, I run out into the weather, squeeze my shape onto a swing, listen to beautiful music and generally bask in goodness- this means however that I'm not writing or sending information anywhere. I am mostly alone in these moments, and, afterwords, in a sort of hangover, I feel lonely, depressed that I can't share such things with living humans, certainly the loved ones.
In the down times, I'm inactive, I stew, I fester, I eat too much and am cruel and mean with regard to my self. Generous in poor sustenance choices, villainous with vulgar words, self-perception and false-promises. I am alone too in these times, I don't read, don't engage with others meaningfully, I flee from love and am generally hopeless. So too here, I don't write to friends. Or if I do I am woefully negative and approach sending such correspondence with trepidation for fear of causing worry, duly or otherwise.
So my words get lost, the love and good feeling and curiosity is misplaced somewhere in the rare intervals of a level mood. I hope when the intervals come around again the snippets of correspondence, the tales of hopes and loves and inspirations, fears and little nagging doubts are to be found, accessed and offered-up again.
I have changed and I remain always this.

The response to that e-letter was the most wonderful parcel of physical correspondence I have ever received and I treasure it immensely (I think you can expect something soon).
But for now, as an illustration of my condition, outlining a constancy to my inconsistence, I will leave that exchange where it is.





There has been so much change lately, certainly from when I wrote this, different jobs, a lot to learn, only a little time (I hope to organise some of those goings on, the last 3 months, in the next few days, for my sanity). I have met some wonderful people and even had cause to reflect on my achievements with pride, even so, the self-doubt looms menacingly, the black dog, ready to pounce. 



With those dizzying ups comes such a crushing low I find it hard to function, even fixing my gaze on something can seem excruciating... I don't want to list out the highs and lows, it seems kind of tasteless, but, perhaps an useful exe(o)rcise for another place and time.

For the most part, what can I say, it's growing pains maybe, love, loving (self and others) and being loved. Love is the thing. Humans.
  


Recently - Another languished relationship, another lost soul.

“over the last few weeks I’ve learnt a lot about you and I really have no idea who you are”

We had our problems, usual clashes, familiarity, contempt... Mainly, it was difficult (for he) to reconcile with the fact that I am so, utterly changeable. I understand. It's not intentional though, they weren't mood swings born of common hormonal denominators. I keep a diary of such Lunar-tics as a way to explain such severe swaying from dark to light, I've yet to discern a correlation, it's more than that! It's a chemical conundrum.
So, ok, right… to be told that, in an accusatory tone, among other, more barbed words, cruel sentences, really frightened me, I felt confused and scared, like I was losing myself, someone I loved (by my own mental doings?) and, essentially, like a very lost cause. If the one who loves me can't cope with that, and I struggle so, feeling/seeming by afternoon almost a different being to the one that saw in the morning, what hope is there?





I understand the anger and confusion and pain. That's part of what makes my heart ache. I forgive the acerbic words now, and absolve myself of the careless retorts too. Still, I despair on occasion. You have every right to suspect disingenuousness and fraud of me. Wouldn't you second-guess someone's enthusiasm if, only a day later it was completely reversed, wouldn't that be cause to ask "did you really feel that way or was it falsified?! Is this the true feeling now, or, was the high the one, the low now engineered for some sinister reason?!" Swinging blows.

Time for some pensive (self-)penetrating then.

Search engines, start-up, soothe and succour. Subdue…
On clumsily confessing tribulations and transgressions, my trying tendencies - Cyclothymia they cried!

(To a synchronous symphony of personality disorder - oh how many chords struck within me !)
  

Oh, that torrid teetering-totter will be fairly frequent, not as timely or graceful as a pendulum, but persistent. 

Alas, unreasonably unpredictable (you'll have no more than two symptom-free months in a row they say, certainly no more I state). The depressive symptoms of cyclothymic disorder are typically more frequent, unpleasant, and disabling than the hypomanic symptoms [check]..
Feelings of depression or instability are usually what cause people with cyclothymia to seek help, though anti-depressants don’t tend to have an effect [check].


Enigmatically “no one is sure what causes cyclothymia.”

One is not sure Full. Stop.

Genetics play a role in the development of both these (C + PDs) disorders . People with cyclothymia are more likely to have relatives with bipolar disorder [check].




Cyclothymia can straddle the line between mental illness and normal variations in mood and personality. Some people with mild symptoms are highly successful in life, driven by their hypomania to express individual talents.
On the other hand, chronic depression and irritability [aha?] can ruin marriages and professional relationships. In fact the toll on relationships can be dramatic, cyclothymia usually comes with a high morbidity in terms of breakdown in relationships both personal and professional [checkedy-check!].


As well as higher incidences of substance abuse...

<body pains/codeine-pills/painless-body/mental-ills>

There are “no approved treatments”, but, apparently, “talking helps”…
It is hard however, when we're all swaying with our own gravities...

Though, as ever, there is consolation to be found in Philosophy, at the moment the duke, Francoise du la Rochefoucould (merci!) has been keeping me company, sporadically.


Maxim 10;
(Il ne faut pas s'offenser que les autres nous cachent la vérité, puisque nous nous la cachons si souvent à nous-mêmes.) We should not be upset that others hide the truth from us, when we hide it so often from ourselves.





Maxim 11;(Nous avons tous assez de force pour supporter les maux d'autrui.) We all have strength enough to endure the misfortunes of others.




Recently, seeking an(other!) explanation for a shift in mood, I wrote this: “I don't know, I was really sad, approaching teary, I'm coming to realise maybe it's my penance for such sunny highs earlier, which, is ok I guess. 
Can't quite conceive of it though, 25-26 and only now that dawn descends, the unexplained lows - when viewed through the kaleidoscope of highs, seem more sensical somewhat... The great see-saw. 

Balance of present with Past.”


Maybe not Cyclothymic, though, there is occasionally a case to be made, certainly in those ever increasing "extreme" (mean)times. On a different day I sent; “The work life see-saw is tipping generously towards life's gradient tonight and it's good!“ 
Seems I've been in favour of that metaphor for a while, without consciously embracing it, perhaps I should, not going with the flow, rather, synching with the swing, seeing where the momentum leads, for better or worse, sway away! 


Maxim 8;


(Il y a dans le coeure humain une génération perpétuelle de passions, en sorte que la ruine de l'une est presque toujours l'établissement d'une autre.)In the human heart there is a perpetual generation of passions, such that the ruin of one is almost always the foundation of another.