Kerry Hudson2013-05-25T02:28:30-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.co.uk/author/index.php?author=kerry-hudsonCopyright 2008, HuffingtonPost.com, Inc.HuffingtonPost Blogger Feed for Kerry HudsonGood old fashioned elbow grease.Bucket Listtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.33251122013-05-23T09:04:33-04:002013-05-23T09:40:22-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
I went to stay with my good friend Jim, so good in fact that he's been living in the Czech Republic for three years and I didn't even know. When we were kids we often played guitar together, usually Pixies songs, and when I saved enough of my tight as hell pocket money i bought my first electric guitar. Trembling with excitement I phoned Jim straight away.. "I got one!" "Brilliant, what type?" "A red one!" "But what type!?" "A cherry red one!" I did however get cooler as I got older. In fact I was proud owner and theft victim of a Gibson ES 335 and I lent it to "a specialist" to re-aline the neck and never saw my baby again.
Pretty Prague is everything people make it out to be and more.. although, as a manic depressive, everyday some form of chaos filtered through.. the first day, Jim and I, both being petrified of heights (I stand on a chair and start screaming) climbed the mini replica of the Eiffel tower which stands at the top of a hill so high you need to take a train to get up there, totaling 378 meters above sea level, and you climb (many) stairs just in the outside of the tower. It was really windy, and once you start you can't turn back. By the time we got to the top, and it took a long time, not just because of how high it is but I had to stop every few steps to have a panic attack, security had to send a lift to take us down as I diva-refused to walk back down. Then the following day I suggested a nice relaxing trip to the Museum Of Torture. Three floors of nausea, fear and panic that this could have happened to me in a previous life, each floor up was more terrifying than the last. Favourites of medieval punishment involved genitalia, spikes, and weights. Then the day after that I got arrested by the Czech Police. I can't understand what's written on my fine receipt but it could be a number of things.. Breach of the peace (shouting, singing even louder) or "cavorting" in a public place (with a teenager) or trying to seduce the police officers that arrested me or then resisting arrest. Oh, and showing my bum. I somehow only paid 500kc instead of the standard 1000kc, I'm guessing they saw the funny side, but my biggest crime however is that I am a massive hypocrite. Only the day before I was telling a czech friend that Brits abroad give us a bad name, with their loud, drunk, slutty behaviour and that I was appalled at what I see on these TV documentaries following Brits on holiday.
So, note to self.. Next time.. REMEMBER TO PACK YOUR LITHIUM!! The rest of the trip consisted of hiding out in the countryside where you can't get into trouble. Beautiful. Quiet. Friendly. You have to be careful when living in a village though because if you make an idiot of yourself in the pub like I do, the next time you have to sheepishly walk back in because this could be the only pub in the whole village. One of the best things about living in London is that there are over 7000 pubs. Result!
The rest of my bucket list I need to get through includes the following..
Meeting Noel Edmonds, Owning my own front door, Learn to play drums (ticked), Do the splits (ticked), Wear heels without crying, Get unbanned from uniformdating.com, Do charity swimathon (I got someone to do it for me so sort of ticked), Beat bipolar (up), Do stand up comedy (ticked), Own my own needlecraft shop and rent the basement out to the mafia, Take a comedy show to Edinburgh Fringe (ticked), Watch Ghostbusters without having nightmares for a week, Bake cupcakes without setting the fire alarm off, Make a salad without setting the fire alarm off, Sleep with a celebrity pop star (tick), Get a female puppy and call it Dave, Wear a wedding dress (but not get married), Live in a pretty house abroad and walk round it in an apron and carry a wicker basket at all times (even in bed), Play bass in a band (tick), Come off all meds and not go mad, Stop showing off around boys, Get over my fear of bunting (tick), Have babies, Write a sketch show for telly (sort of tick, went on radio two), Get arrested by policemen for sexual harassment (on the sexy policemen - tick).]]>Attachment Issues, Floor Tiles and Garibaldistag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.32433312013-05-09T19:00:00-04:002013-05-09T12:42:39-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Although I have absolutely no idea where mine came from.. I wasn't breast fed so I can't blame it on coming off the boob, my dad came home every day after work, and no sh*t, our family goldfish lived for thirty one years. (It was won at the fair by my mum when she was a baby - before it was thought inhumane - and it was one of those annoying situations where a grown up actually wins it and then says "clever girl!" to which the baby just gives a "what the f*ck" look then sh*ts itself).
However, my seemingly from nowhere attachment issues came out recently, horribly, when two decorators came to convert my bathroom into a shower room. No it didn't happen in B&Q, although I have cried in there a few times before. The smell of timber reminds me of wasted weekends as a child, wandering around with the parents for what seems hours, days, when all my other friends were swimming, outdoors for god sake. What I do however like about B&Q is watching couples a) have arguments over floor tiles, or b) have conversations with each other by just staring at each other.
No, what it was, they were here for two weeks. Two weeks is a long time if you work from home and they are your only other form of communication other than rodents who are my guinea pigs Bev, Sue, Pam, Elaine Barbara, Linda and Pauline. I also have two cats now named Exceptional Circumstances and Discrimination In The Workplace. The builders wouldn't drink my tea, they said Earl Grey tastes like Perfume, fair play, but they sure as hell ate my biscuits. And we chatted every day, I got to know their first names and everything.
When the shower room was almost complete, on the last day, I actually lost nearly a whole nights sleep wondering how I was going to survive them leaving me, so, I got up early and left the house before they got here, leaving a note - on the biscuit tin - saying..
"Early meeting, cheers boys, looks great"
But what I really wanted to say was..
"I can't believe you're leaving me! How could you do this? Do you not think I have feelings too? All you do is work long hard hours, talk about your wives (BTW when did you ever talk about me?) eat my garibaldis and fart every time you bent down to seal a gap. Yours, devastated, Kerry of Hackney. PS One of the taps is dripping, maybe you need an extra week to fix?)
So I wrote it down, and felt better. And left the house before they got here. As I stepped onto the tube to go nowhere I panicked.. which note did I actually leave on the biscuit tin???]]>Manic Spendathonstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.32200532013-05-05T17:37:41-04:002013-05-06T16:02:04-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
But going back to my original point, we take a positive from a negative. All the non-refundable overpriced treatments that I can't afford, when I'm manic, credit card shaking in my hand, along with all the promises of beauty, stardom, husbands and oh my god I will look amazing....... fortunately by the time the actual bookings come around I am usually face down in my sink, hair flopped in soap, toothpaste, anything that is gonna drive me to a very clean suicide, but hey! Guess what! I have eyelash extensions to look forward to! Lazer teeth whitening! Er.. Learn Portuguese in five days... and a call from the credit card company threatening to take me to the cleaners.. but guess what? I can actually say that, through dazzling teeth, in Portuguese.. Vamos levá-lo para a limpeza.
Very good friends will take your credit cards off you during this time. Shoot them.]]>People With Mental Health Are Dangerous Criminalstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.29742812013-03-28T16:58:20-04:002013-03-31T06:29:27-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/Back To Future II is set only two years from now, I haven't seen any hoverboards or self drying clothes but I have noticed that we are more intelligent than ever and have access to so much more information, so why do broadsheets and tabloids continue to give the dumb and dated impression that mental health is associated with violent crime?
This not only concerns me but worries me slightly, because, if I happened to be in the same place and time that a crime took place, it would be me that would more likely be accused than someone without a diagnosis. It gives a whole new edge to the "whodunnit" game Cluedo; "Miss Scarlet, found dead in the drawing room, by a blow to the head with a candlestick, most likely by a manic depressive who forgot his morning medication".
I recently worked a media event organised by Time To Change and hosted by Alistair Campbell. Panel guests were Mary O'Hara, writer for the Guardian and working on a research project about mental health in the media, broadcaster Fiona Phillips, actress and presenter Denise Welch and journalist and moderator for the Daily Mail and close friend of mine Erica Camus. Guests that made up the audience were predominantly press; journalists, headline writers and editors, and media undergraduates namely Media Mind UK who I have been working with independently of this event. Our aim was to talk to the press about how the media portray people, like myself, with a severe mental health illness, and how completely different the reality is. There is no close connection between mental health and crime, in fact, statistics show that we are actually more likely to be the victim of the crime. Also, facts and dates very often don't go hand in hand. Denise, who has achieved a whole year of sobriety, was recently pictured in the press using a pic portraying that she'd fallen off the wagon which was in fact five years old. And as a journalist myself, I can say that we don't write our own headlines, and it is often these headlines that do the damage. Fiona described her experience of having headlines attached to her story as written without them actually reading the story first, often contradicting itself. But unfortunately, the general public who read the papers like to read about two types of people; survivors - those who have been through hell and come out of the other end, and circus acts - those who can be publicly humiliated and make the public feel better about themselves. Headlines that imply that a celebrity is "just doing OK' attracts no attention, in contrast to those that have battled cancer or brought shame and bad exposure to themselves. Short sharp words such as "Divorce.. Shame.. Cheat.. Nutter.. Addict.. Criminal.. Loon" are what readers have been acustomed to catch out of the corner of their eye.
Mental health seems to be the only disability that is being targeted, you would never see headlines such as..
"Diabetic, run's down small child"
"Hard of hearing leader of sex cult charged"
"Polycystic woman tortures husband to One Direction"
It sounds more Chris Morris than tabloids.
Recent documentaries on television, namely BBC Panorama, have disclosed attitudes of council workers, one in particular calling those receiving sick or disabled benefits "lying thieving bastards" and these are the people who are employed to help those suffering from severe and enduring mental health. Add media coverage, namely headlines, public stigma and in many cases rejection from friends, family and colleagues, is it any wonder that more often than imaginable people suffering mental health commit suicide?
Here are some shocking key findings from NICE (National Institute for Health and Care Excellence)
Almost 46% of all press coverage was about crime, harm to others and self harm - with 54% of tabloid coverage devoted to these issues and almost 43% in the broadsheets.
Both broadsheets and tabloids made a clear link between mental ill health,criminality and violence - and stories making this link were generally given greater prominence than more positive pieces
45% of Sunday tabloid articles about mental health contained stigmatizing words like 'nutter' and 'loony'
Pieces giving advice and guidance about mental health issues accounted for less than 8% of all coverage
Eighty per cent of all mental health coverage was found in the broadsheets
Sunday broadsheets covered mental health issues less positively than their daily counterparts
Stories about politics, funding and se~ices relating to mental health accounted for one fifth of all coverage
More than a fifth of the coverage promoted the messages that mental health problems are treatable and that people with mental distress lead worthwhile lives
Articles covering self harm and/or suicide were generally more balanced than those reporting on harm to others
So, we are publicly portrayed as scroungers and criminals, and basically the general public should cross the road should we get within a twenty foot radius. And there was me thinking that thanks to Catherine Zeta Jones, bipolar disorder was, as I once read, "the Givenchy of mental health". Perhaps I'll go and see my GP and see if I can get it swapped for high cholesterol or something that isn't going to scare the general public.]]>Internet Dating Profiles and Mental Healthtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.27768532013-02-27T17:49:21-05:002013-02-28T11:13:50-05:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
But fast forward the potential relationship three years - which is when we approach the notorious three year itch and if we don't make the right decision we have to wait for the seven year itch, it's a bit like being sentenced then waiting for parole - and by then we are all attuned to the traits we left out of our original profile. So why not just get it out of the way in the beginning? No way!
Being totally honest in our profiles can go in one of two directions. You either get no replies, perhaps the odd one or two after pub closing hours, or you attract someone who admires you for your honesty AND your flaws. Bingo. You may as start choosing the fabric and start table planning.
I thought about doing this experiment, for about ten minutes, but did I really want to greet my potential soulmate with my most personal personality defects, which for me is my mental health? Oh no. People are still scared of mental health, but even though stats are rising, awareness is on the up, and all of us know someone who knows someone with a severe and enduring mental illness, we would apparently live with an ex convict then someone like me. A whopping 75% of us don't let on about our condition for a whole year, often allowing behavioral symptoms such as a manic episode to do the talking for us.
So, my profile begins.. female, thirties, Aquarius, journalist and textiles artist living in London zone 2, with a professional (that means photoshopped) pic of my good side (good start, grabs his attention). Into reading, walking, swimming, ski-ing (like it), dining, dancing, partying (so far, so good), likes interesting science facts, random humour that makes me laugh uncontrollably (she's a keeper)... and stalking people off the Crime channel. My friends see me as manic, an insomniac, of which I'm prone to delusions from a parallel world. I can't make decisions unless when dating then I make bad ones. I keep up to sixteen rodents and have a weird obsession with Noel Edmunds (logs out). Oh, and I've only been ski-ing once, I was rubbish, and the only thing I "read" is Take a Break. Really, lets just stick to our qualities.
Last year I joined Guardian Soulmates which was my first ever internet dating experience. I did the fabulous sounding profile and clicked the upload button, and by the end of play the following day my inbox was shockingly chocka with messages, likes and favorites and I made it onto the front page (whoo hoo!). But it was very overwhelming, my previous relationship had left me feeling worthless, and I felt like a fraud because I hadn't declared my mental illness, so I didn't allow myself to reply to any of these potential soulmates. Six months of not replying later, still guiltily peeping out from the front page, I deactivated my account. I kicked myself for being ashamed of something I have no control over.
What's even worse are job applications because we HAVE to tick a box stating whether we have a mental health condition or not. If we declare it, hmm.. they're not supposed to deselect us but they do. If we don't, and become unwell, they can a) not pay us sick leave or b) dismiss us for fraud. Epilepsy, diabetes or hard of hearing are other examples of "hidden" disabilities but without that awkward stigma which is mental health.
There is one dating site which caters for people with mental health issues looking for love or even friendship and its called No Longer Lonely. It was set up by a guy called Sam with mental health issues of his own who told me..
"I get regular testimonials from users attesting to how their lives have improved because of this site. Fact is that we've spawned at least forty marriages. I think there is a profound comfort getting to know someone for romantic intention when the idea of disclosure is taken off the table. We speak a common language of experience.
I'm all for people with a mental health diagnosis getting together with a similar partner, however, the cross-over of symptoms can be hard work and need deeper attention and indeed support. Mood disorders and personality disorders can be a toxic combination if unattended, although anxiety disorders tend to be more straight forward to understand, but cross partnerships in general can be difficult because not only do we have our own condition to control, we then have a whole new batch of symptoms to understand and nurture. Match partnerships, i.e. bipolar to bipolar tend to work better because both partners share the same awareness, experience and empathy.
Friends who think they are helping when they say "You need to be with someone normal" do not tend to understand that whilst their support has not gone unappreciated, we often feel that our condition is highlighted in comparison with someone without one, like having a spotlight shining down on us.
I'm done with the whole internet dating thing, it wasn't for me. Perfect if your fridge is empty and you're skint because you could fashion a short notice dinner date (if it goes well you get breakfast too) but I think I'll do better hanging around outside manic depression support groups and depot clinics!]]>Realistic New Year's Resolutions for 2013tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2013:/theblog//3.24017292013-01-03T19:00:00-05:002013-01-03T12:28:58-05:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Admittedly I hated it to start with, namely the head rush, and had to pour cans of Coke down my neck to combat the taste, but in order to give up a guilty pleasure I needed another guilty pleasure because a second New Year's resolution is to give up the booze since my folks - monitoring my lubricated antics over the festive period - have threatened me with rehab.
I've heard, read, experienced that people with bipolar love to drink, snort, shop, gamble, 'hold hands' because the quick fix attached is similar to our natural buzzers and we often prefer to self medicate than listen to our doctors.
Another thing we 'forget' is that drinking on top of our meds stops them working properly. THIS is my reason to quit, even if just for a few months (or minutes) because 2012 has seen two psychiatric admissions, a break up and a bingo habit and I need to see some positive changes in 2013 or I will simply leave Walford (yes, I believe 'Stenders is real, give me something to cling onto).
Other new years resolutions include..
See more of people - I actually have more conversations with my pet guinea pigs than people. As a writer I need to be more nosey, find out what's going on in other peoples lives, swear to secrecy and then change names.
Practice the drums more - I'm getting crap on the drum kit. How am I to be the nagging thirty-something drummer with her Take A Break magazine and Ovaltine on the floor tom in a band with teenage comb overs unless I practice?
De-clutter - My flat is starting to look like something from a Channel Four documentary on hoarding. Because I make installation art I often hang around skips and scrap projects like flies and drag useless materials back to my flat with the promise of bringing it to life.
As humans we are more likely to list the things we must change and forget the things that worked for us in 2012, like... er... changing light bulbs or remote control batteries. Other things I learnt last year to take with me into 2013 are:
You can't fix other people - I spent the last five years trying to eliminate someone else's baggage, instead I just added to my own. The only people you can fix are yourselves, and you need to swallow a bit more than pills and self help books to do this. CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) and CAT (Cognitive Analytical Therapy) are great tools.
Go against the grain - not only is this a fabulous method for cutting fabric to make cushion cover binding, it also works when you're so low you can't face the outside world so you FACE THE OUTSIDE WORLD. Fresh air and change of scenery works on both the mental and physical being.
Don't ask you don't get - Although we've been hearing this since the age of five some of us (me included) still think good fortune will come to us if we sit and wait quietly. Last year I wrote for some of my favourite magazines and supplements because I asked to. I also had a three month solo exhibition - since art school - of my textiles art because I asked to. If anyone had of said no I would've been exactly where I was anyway.
Whatever you decide to do or not to do in the coming year, have a marvellous new one!]]>How to Avoid Christmas Arguments This Yeartag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.23106412012-12-17T19:00:00-05:002012-12-18T08:48:40-05:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/ "I'm not doing the driving"
When I was growing up, my family all lived down the same street, nowadays hardly any of us live in the same town we grew up in and Christmas get togethers often involve trains, planes and 'accidental' car trouble.
The journey there isn't the problem, it allows time to fill in the gaps to prevent awkward conversations like who's getting divorced and who didn't get the promotion etc, but if only a day trip then comes the return journey and somebody has to drive, which means, someone has to stay sober. As I'm sure we've all experienced it's not much fun being the only one sat there with a glass of fake fizz whilst everyone else is on the dance floor, the twister mat or trying to play charades, on a twister mat, on a dance floor. If not, then maybe it's your turn to drive.
Besides, whilst you're sober and everyone else's smashed, depending on your relationship with the in-laws it's a perfect opportunity to do a bit of present swapping or tipping the family silver into your handbag.
"We're not going to your mum's"
If in a relationship, the general rule is that if we went to his or her folks last year, we go to ours this year. However, what if their folks are divorced and remarried? That means we only get to spend Christmas with our folks every three years. Or what if its our first Christmas together and they want to spend this Christmas with their folks, ours next year, but we spent last years' with our ex partners folks and have promised ours this year? Can you see where I'm going with this? It would make sense to have the whole lot over for Christmas but then there are the sibling in laws, the nieces and nephews, and pending on how far you spiral down the family web it could be more like cooking for Crisis at Christmas than a festive family dinner.
Perhaps say "That's fine dear, so long as we can do mine Boxing day" and lets face it, Boxing day is much more fun - the local pubs are open, better films on the box, and less expectations of dinner if you're cooking - besides, if there's nothing in the diary for the 27th you can really celebrate and wash down a box of chocky liquors with a bottle of Baileys (so long as you got out of doing the driving).
"Put a jumper on and turn the heating off"
Coincidently, energy costs increase during cold weather warnings. The picturesque family image of us all sitting around a glowing fire toasting marshmallows to the festive sound of church bells should be replaced with that of us in woolly hats and gloves under a duvet watching Eastenders Christmas (disaster) special.
Apparently the "We're not putting the heating on just yet" dispute starts in October, so by Christmas day we should all be used to the reaction we get when we flick the switch and should have a jumper ready.
Leaving the oven door open after you've roasted your turkey will keep the kitchen warm for all of ten minutes, and pressing used chewing gum into window sills (between the window and the sill) helps lock in warmth but only if you've been doing this all year. If you live in flats, befriend those on the top floor as these will be the warmest.
TV ANTICS
"Where's the remote control?"
Believe it or not, popular 999 calls have been from distraught partners of those hiding or refusing to hand over the remote control. Unfortunately, the post roast selection of Christmas television is what holds me back from my idyllic crisp country walk.. in Homerton. Is it sad that the only time I watch the soaps is on Christmas day?
There have been many Christmas's where I've been a guest in someone's house and politely sat sweating and trembling for what seems like hours before I had the courage to ask for the tenth time "You did say it was OK to watch Eastenders at eight didn't you?"
I actually paid my dad £3 once to let me watch 'Stenders' in peace one Christmas day. £2 if I could turn over and another £1 for keeping quiet and not tell me everything that was about to happen whilst it was on.
However, in recent years, something amazing has happened. The plus box. These give us the opportunity to record and playback anything on the other side. However, it's just not the same when watching sports, especially when your neighbour and avid Spurs fan whoops and cheers every time a goal is scored. Which brings me to my next dispute..
"We're not watching sport on Christmas day"
An informant has assured me that there are no fixtures on Christmas day, however, sports news channels operate as normal and this can lead to arguments during peak festive soap viewing, such as all day.
For your footy mad dad, £3 may not be enough to rent out the remote, you may have set the fire alarm off, change channel during evacuation, then hide the controller VERY well, but not well enough to forget where you put it, perhaps in the washing machine (let's face it, who's more likely to use it). Alternatively, get them a very interesting manly present to play with, such as a selection box of toiletries or a Top Gear calendar.
KITCHEN ANTICS
"You should've cooked it like this... "
Why is it that people (who aren't cooking) always wait until you're about to dish up and then start loitering in the kitchen? Is it the aroma of the juicy bird roasted in fresh herbs? Or if you're anything like my Dad you may wish to just stand there and say how you would've done it differently.
To avoid health and safety issues such as scalds and chinese burns, stay out of the kitchen during cooking and serving (if doing so in the kitchen). If you're the chef then threaten whoever keeps coming in with the washing up, that'll keep them out.
If using someone elses cooker for the first time, get acquainted with it first. A couple of years ago I grilled a turkey. It didn't look very happy and neither did my guests.
"Who put the empty butter back in the fridge?"
It's a divorceable offence. Those who put empty milk cartons, jam jars and margarine tubs back in the fridge should hand themselves in and their presents back. I learnt at an early age that this is as good as illegal, however, I've sinced been back to my parents house, tried to raid the fridge for "fun food" such as sandwich fillers, creamy cakes and booze, and my mum's voice appears from nowhere "Don't eat that it's out of date"! Isn't that just as sinful? And who has booze in their fridge for that long it goes out of date? Surely the same people that put crisps in the fridge.
Throwing things away can be fun! You can play games such as bin buckaroo.
Whatever you do this Christmas, wherever you may be with whomever you choose (or get lumbered with), wrap up, drive safe, and be nice to each other.
To see this piece in full and read more on Christmas antics, go to http://www.n16mag.com/latest-issue.html
Also on HuffPost UK Lifestyle: ]]>Alternative Medicines for Mental Healthtag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.22860482012-12-12T12:07:23-05:002012-12-14T04:34:12-05:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Holistic therapists are often a plan b to conventional practitioners - like GPs - however the role of the GP is not stripped of authority and is often required to approve certain treatments offered by the holistic therapist.
A holistic therapist should always check what medication you are already taking. Although natural herbs are just that - natural - they still hold potency and should be monitored when used with other medication.
Sorrell takes me through some of the common mental health symptoms she has worked with and what herbs and other alternative medicines she recommends.
Anxiety
Herbs such as valerian and hops help calm the mind. Hops also helps calmly release stored anger. Chamomile as we know also naturally calms the mind, but what we don't know is that we need at least two tea bags for it to have an effect.
Roman chamomile is good for anxiety in kids, and frankincense with a drop of heart shakia if they are prone to panic attacks. Lavender is also useful is the child is too over-stimulated as it's great for all round relaxation, and that goes for adults too.
Hypnosis - although many people are both excited and nervous about apparent mind control, it is actually a myth. No-one can give you suggestions or commands that your mind won't allow because you are in control at all times. Clinical hypnosis - in oppose to what we see Derren Brown do on TV - is really deep relaxation and meditation. I put Sorrells' hypnotherapy to the test, and was pleasantly surprised at the level of relaxation she took me to through guided visualisation whilst balancing my mind and body. I am one of these un centered people that can usually only wind down whilst I'm asleep.
Depression Many of us have already heard of St Johns wart and it's one of the best selling over the counter and alternative medicines for the blues. It's non toxic and has proven effective results but it should not be taken alongside prescribed antidepressant or antipsychotic drugs as it can have the reverse effect.
Withania herbs help to restore motivation and passion, often lost during depressive episodes. It's good for libido too which is often lost during these episodes. Withania is also a tender energizer.
Rosemary naturally stimulates the circulation system and gives the adrenalin glands a gentle kick. Orange flower is good for children with depression as well as anger problems.
A massage helps boost circulation too, the cupping and hacking (don't be put off by the names given to the techniques) are great for energisers. A good oil to use bergamot as it helps with many types of depressive states, and rose water (rose otto) which has an uplifting effect whilst restoring balance.
Paranoia Skullcap is known to calm down negative thinking which in turn can ease feelings of paranoia. Also try the valerian, hops and chamomile for their properties.
Orange flower mixed in water, like the hops, can help control feelings of anger and can be used for kids too.
Obsessive Compulsive Disorder - (OCD)
As well as the Skullcap, wild lettuce for it's mild sedative effect is a good natural medicine for OCD. As episodes of OCD are often triggered by stress and anxiety, also try the valerian, hops and chamomile. Valerian blended with otto rose is suitable for children with OCD.
Insomnia The hops and valerian, often prepared together, are a common and effective natural sleep aid. They come in both tablet and tea form and it's best to make a pot and drink throughout the evening, not just before you go to bed. As with the tablets, try taking them a good hour or so before you go to bed. Lavender drops on the pillow also help us to relax. Be care with burning oils or incense at night time, the drops are much safer.
Mood Stabiliser Lemon balm aids in the leveling out of moods, and it's properties are known to promote balance and harmony.
Addiction The skullcap can also help with cravings, and is often used in detox blends that eliminate excess drugs from the body. Milk thistle helps cleanse the liver, although it must be used with caution if the liver has been subject to a disorder such as psoriasis. The wild lettuce is sometimes used as an opiate detox because of it's similar sedative effect.
Massage also helps people trying to detox, and lymphatic drainage strokes aid circulation and the elimination of toxins.
Aromatherapy (the use of oils) is also a great alternative remedy. It's soothing, relaxing, great for the skin and muscle tissue and has an immediate effect. However, it only works on a superficial level. Herbs work on a deeper level on your organs and work much better long term.
To find out more about herbs or the work Sorrel does, click here. http://www.chamomileclinic.co.uk/]]>'Mummy, Why is That Lady Talking to Herself?'tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.21252982012-11-14T19:00:00-05:002013-01-14T05:12:01-05:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
"Depression isn't a mental illness, everyone gets depressed"
Being depressed because you've just been dumped whilst listening to back to back Smiths albums and Facebook updates suggest all your friends are out having fun without you, is not necessarily clinical depression. However if you can't eat or get out of bed for days or weeks trapped underneath an invisible heavy glue and suicide is all you have to look forward to then your depression is indeed in the serious risk scale.
"We're dangerous criminals and serial killers"
Worldwide serial killers like Ted Bundy and The Camden Ripper amongst many others were diagnosed mentally ill. But what about all the rest? Prisons are much bigger than asylums. In our previous generation, we kids were kept away from mad aunts and nutty neighbours, in case we were kidnapped, fed people pie or drawn on, but a whopping one in four of us will suffer from mental health at some point, which means, if we are dangerous murderers, then someone in your office, on your bus, or even in your house is capable of killing you so do be careful what you say.
"We talk to ourselves or imaginary people"
It's more that likely we're talking on our hands free. Someone who went in a coma ten years ago and just woke up, would think we'll all, especially city boys, gone mad. But reality is we with mental health make hands free phone calls too. In fact we can even change batteries too. Look at some of the Brightest Sparks - Einstein, John Nash, Doc from Back To The Future (although it's still unsure as to whether it's a fictional story or not) - are/were all clinically mad.
"We're benefit scroungers"
Many people with mental health conditions rely on benefits because it is often near impossible to either get or maintain full time employment.
If you have a physical disability, companies build ramps, if you have a mental disability, what can they build us for our brain?
So we're in a sticky one. If we "tick the box if you have a mental disability" we're up against someone who hasn't who are more likely to get the job, or we don't tick the box, get unwell, we get instantly dismissed for lying on our form.
However, for those that think people on mental health benefits are swanning around in designer gear drinking champagne in the Ivy, or even drinking White Lightening whilst watching Loose Women, do keep up the fantasies because they're much better than the reality.
"We wander the streets"
It's more that likely that we're going to the shops. We eat, read the paper, and empty our bins too. I know channel Four documentaries portray this image of us hoarding rubbish to the point we have to eat and sleep in our bathrooms but occasionally we need to wander to the shops for tea bags and cat food like everyone else... who has cats obviously. Besides, it could just be that the BMW we bought with our benefits is in the garage.
"Schizophrenia means split personality"
So then every female suffering PMT is a Schizophrenic - one minute throwing the boyfriends Xbox games out of the window because he cannot ****ing tidy up after himself, to crying into tinned macaroni because he's not paying her attention - he's busy tidying up - Schizophrenia is a severe condition involving acute paranoia, delusions and hallucinations requiring medication to help maintain a "normal" life whilst split personality is the slang definition of conflicting personalities in the same person, like Jekyll and Hyde, or just getting drunk.
"Bipolar means ups and downs"
Many people have asked me if I think they're bipolar because they have a really good day followed by a really bad one. On asking for a bit of history, many of them were suffering hangovers from fun packed weekends, every weekend. The upside of bipolar doesn't mean really happy or over excited it means manic, out of control, delusive and dangerous. I've known patients on the ward run a business from their bum, set up tents for children they don't have and park their trains in Tesco's car park (or so they think) And the low side, almost one on four people with bipolar take their own lives, most of them have tried.
So, ups and downs is about being human, changes in pace, sobering up, having fluctuating days and we don't need lithium for that, we need a good diet, a sensible work/play routine, a decent nights sleep, and light objects to throw at people we love every now and then..
You can read more at http://www.n16mag.com/latest-issue.html (p45)]]>Lack of Routine, Too Much Creativity, a Mental Health Condition... You're in Butlinstag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.19885412012-10-19T14:40:21-04:002012-10-21T10:13:12-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
I'd say that is pretty sweet progress considering I've been sleep deprived and over stimulated lately.
I've been busy advocating on behalf of Mental Health as usual, and this week I was part of a live panel interview on Resonance FM.
Artist Gary Molloy, Musician Mark Roberts and some writer called Kerry Hudson (that'll be me then) discussed the therapeutic benefits of creativity. Gary hasn't been in hospital, where he was in and out of for years, since he picked up a paint brush nearly fifteen years ago, and he in on minimum medication. I've spoken with countless artists (as in the art form, these are mainly musicians) whilst writing about the subject who say that medication slows them down - their creative drive, their idea formatting process, their motor skills.. - which in turn makes them more frustrated, more depressed, and further from recovery.
I guess I'm one of the lucky ones who has a supportive shrink - he knows that if I can't go from idea to production I'll get cranky. Really cranky, I'd NEVER be able to drink coffee out of a tea mug, life would be a list of lists, timetables and IF THEY WEREN'T NEAT ENOUGH... I currently take five lots of little white ones daily, from lithium to diazapam and I rarely keep up with all my publications and I torment myself by thinking if I came off them all, I'll have multiple books written, multiple screen plays even, multiple everything. But I'd probably be writing them all from Butlins Ward (a psych ward) having bought every pet from every pet shop in London and talked so much so fast I put Energy companies out of business.
Speaking of psych wards, the show's presenter Yodet Gherez asked our experiences about institutions and if they changed and the first time I was in one (aged sixteen) it really did feel like a holiday camp, there were numerous activities, daily. There were also extra curricular activities I got in trouble for too, like setting up a secret aerobics class for the eating disorder patients, and running a walking club in the basement, and this was Addenbrooks in Cambridge, one of Europe's largest hospitals and basement corridors went on for miles, and you could get, and we did get lost. It had a fully kitted out music room, complete with piano and drum kit for music therapy. My last trip to a ward, a couple of years ago, music therapy consisted of a tatty boom box and a pile of RnB CD singles, and we take turns playing them. No offense to RnB but I'd rather play Rene and Renate on repeat for the whole of my stay.
Back to the creative process. I sometimes wish that I didn't have a brain that has a hundred thoughts, suggestions, ideas,and at times beliefs per second or so it seems, my flat is often covered in notes, papers, lists, post-it's, drafts, fabric cuts, storyboards, pins, "to do's", latex.. and I sometimes have my laptop and sewing machine whirring simultaneously because I'm running with a new textile art idea as well as an article.
I used to work for an architect and his PA would make me very jealous when she talked about her life, she knew exactly what she was doing from one day, one hour to the next. Monday evenings she and her husband would go to her mums, his mums on a Sunday. Tuesday gym, Wednesday ironing, Thursday late night shopping at Lakeside, Friday dinner with their friends and Saturday they laid in till 10am then did DIY. And when she left work every day, she didn't take anything home, she switched off. You can't switch off when you're creative, or you can but I haven't worked it out yet. Wine helps but it's also loopy juice on top of most psyche meds.
Routine can be difficult for people with mental health, no day is the same, it's ruled by our moods, thoughts, beliefs, behaviour, energy etc.. I may have "10am appointment" in my diary but even if I'm up by 7am on a rare occasion I've slept, it's likely that by 3pm I still haven't made it in the shower and have no idea what I've been doing. I once started writing it down, every hour, on the hour, and I came up with "writing down what I'm doing" which completely fed my OCD!!
I haven't met many people with mental health problems who aren't in some way or other creative, we naturally question everything, perhaps to obsessiveness sometimes, and spiral off in different directions looking for alternative conclusions, very much like the artists' mind. It would be good if we could switch off occasionally, lithium does so much but I'd love to switch off at 5.30pm and go late night shopping with the rest of Essex!
Should you want to hear the interview you can access it here..
http://soundcloud.com/resonance-fm/2012-10-16-21-00-00-the
I'm sorry in advance if I offend any Loose Women fans.
You can read more about creativity and mental health in my article on the subject here..
http://www.mentalhealthy.co.uk/depression/bipolar/art-and-mental-health.html]]>My Top Three London Pub Alternativestag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.18803072012-09-13T08:46:06-04:002012-09-14T07:10:12-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Being British, or in Britain, the majority of us still believe that we can't have a good night without booze, I mean, imagine turning up to a house party to find there was no booze? The silent stare on peoples faces when you turn up to a dinner party... with a bottle of squash. I remember that feeling of despair when the riots came to Hackney... the local pubs closed.
So, for the serious ones on the wagon, pregnant women, and people like me who shouldn't drink on medication, here are my top three non boozy alternatives to a good night out. Girly as these suggestions are, I have tried them to success out on men.
Rock n' Roll Bingo
Usually a night out in Camden town results in a heavy hangover, an empty wallet and no memory from entering the Woody Grill kebab house next to the underground onwards. But this particular night, three friends and I (three girls, one guy) went to Mecca Bingo Camden. Fab night. But, when the games finished and you thought it was over, oh no, lights started flashing, music started blasting, and bingo callers started dancing on the stage in sequins hats sucking on lollipops, imagine Auntie Marion after munching on a disco biscuit at the Phoenix Nights club.
You hear a piece of music and if the title's on your card you blot it, as normal, but if you get a line (I know we're in Camden but at bingo this means blots in a row) then you have to chase a bingo caller, and her big bouncing bosoms, round the hall and when you catch her (or him) you have to cuddle them. If there is a tie you will have to fight it out by way of a dance off, a song off - on the night we went, three women had to see who could get to the end of the song Dry Bones and the first woman sung "You're neck bone's connected to you... face bone" Another tie resulted in an old school bingo player (or Nazi Nana) yelling following an egg n' spoon race "Oi! Caller! My Gary won that!" to be shouted back "But his egg fell off Sandra" poor Gary.
They shower you with sweets (and come round with £1 shots) so we were in a sugar frenzy, on top of all the lemonade we were drinking, and what with bouncing around the hall on space hoppers and chasing callers, my friend Johnny (or his stomach) was so overwhelmed with excitement he threw up in his coin box.
We had to take a kalm with warm milk when we got home and we still didn't sleep!!
The Zoo
London Zoo is now open late, hurrah!
On a dating profile I was asked what the perfect date would be and I said the zoo. Yes, I'm a devoted (and a bit obsessed) animal lover, but the open space and fresh air has something about it too. It's been extended in the last few years creating more space for the animals. From zebras to bugs, giraffes to meerkats, which always make me laugh with their adorable silly faces, like monkeys, and I actually kissed a penguin (but missed the penguin show, and kicked off on the way home, sat on the pavement refusing to move etc..). It will also take a few hours to get around so that's a whole afternoon/evening sorted.
It's fun, romantic (people get married there) and relaxing, and you've got Regents Park to take advantage of too.
The other obvious pub dodgers are cinema, theatre, dinner (people who think they can't afford to go out to dinner then spend forty quid in a pub are deluded, as are those who won't pay a fiver to see a local band but will spend that a pint and a half. I am one of them) my all time favourite has to be...
Knitting clubs
Bear with me on this one..
It was cutting down on the booze and fags that made me start knitting. I had no idea what I was doing to start with (I self taught) but soon discovered it's a dodle. The detail gave me a focus to zone in and out of when I was thinking about that velvety tone of red wine or the smoky haze of tobacco. After a while you can do it whilst you're watching TV or having a chat, but it was still quite solitary.
Then I discovered that knitting is back in and that Hackney, as usual, is at the heart of it. Keen knitters were yarn bombing (knitted graffiti) on trees outside the town hall (prudish or protest?), knitting exhibitions filled galleries down brick lane and knitting groups, such as ​Stitch n' Bitch were meeting up in cafes, pubs and parks.
I even started my own little company Nan's Cabinet and remade the classics like toilet roll dolls, sausage dogs, bunting etc... knitted cupcakes to knitted wedding cakes, any myself had an exhibition in Core Arts East London. But, it was only supposed to be a healthier hobby, an alternative to drinking and smoking, just accidently became a career move (A bit like when Withnail says "We've come on holiday my mistake".
I often threaten my friends that I'll teach them to knit, to help me out, that one hasn't quite worked out yet, but they'll come running in winter when they need those matching woollen scarf and gloves.
There, these may or may not give you pub alternatives, either way, play safe.]]>Now We Can Start Ignoring Each Other Again - Post Olympic Maniatag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.18177592012-08-21T19:47:35-04:002012-08-22T06:38:46-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
During this time people seemed genuinely nicer to each other, whether they were on their way to see the games or on their way to work. Shop staff were friendlier, transport staff were more helpful and the general public had a sense of pride about themselves, not in the smug sense but in unity. This seemed more evident in clusters, like on busy tubes or trains, platforms and queues, and even in long queues people, even me, moaned less. Volunteers were singing silly made up songs into their megaphones, there was a refreshing amusing attitude that would raise eyebrows and spit tuts any other time but now.
As with the World Cup, strangers world-wide can make conversation because we all have one thing in common, even though they may come across as worlds apart.
I don't usually use the "C" word but I couldn't help myself lap up the community spirit and that bonding sense of belonging - I personally belong to a minority group, I'm one of those people who talk to strangers on tubes and get ignored in exchange for The Da Vinci Code - and my friend and I have even been pumping the tyres of a tandem, decorated the basket with red white and blue flowers, flags and bunting, ready to parade along the canals of East London to mark the completion of a once in our lifetime event. If you see us, stop, we have treats!
Admittedly I'm no sport enthusiast, in fact I couldn't be less enthusiastic, but living so close to the Olympic Park- in fact my car park and balcony were in use by friends and family eager to get to the site in twenty minutes door to door or photograph the fabulous fireworks displays - I was surrounded by Olympic Mania the minute I left my home to the minute I arrived back. It was like living in a giant Camper-van at a music festival.
Stratfords Westfield Centre is my local shopping centre, and during very hectic shopping trips I found myself getting excited and borderline emotional every time I saw someone in a shell suit, until the realization hit me that I was after all in Stratford and that wasn't uncommon at all.
I was fortunate enough to get tickets into the stadium on the last day of the main games,
The very firs thing that came into my head when I walked into the Olympic Park was that it seemed like a very clean Glastonbury Festival. It had the crowds, diversity and friendliness but not the litter, perfume de portaloo or the mud.
I was surprised to see such casual attire, I had no idea what people were wearing to the Olympics as the only people I'd observed in full attire on TV were athletes and Kate Middleton, so formal dress of my nations' colours, red heels and royal blue fascinator hat it was... and of course everyone else is in comfy lights and trainers.
I even saw the very last game from the front row, and witnessed a world record, things I'll never experience again in my lifetime. However I can't tell you what either of these were, I was buzzing from the experience as a whole, scanning the crowds, listening to a medley of languages and playing less attention to the games. Besides, there were three games running at any one time and I didn't know where to direct my focus - a bit like Sunday lunch arriving whilst you're starving and you don't know what to dig into first - not saying the Olympics is an exciting as Sunday lunch of course, merely just a rubbish metaphor.
From someone with no interest in sport I was certainly easily excited and only stopped cheering to breath. I even clapped and whistled at volunteers as they entered the track with buckets.
And of course I got to see the winners and runners up be presented with their Jim'll Fix It badges, as we stood and pretended to know the words to their national anthem.
And finally, speaking of singing, describing what I'd seen to friends was a bit like singing The 12 Days Of Christmas there were eight poles vaulting, seven ladies running, six hammer throwing, five gold rings..
Oh well, I guess we'll have to wait another three years, eleven months and two weeks before we start being nice to people we don't know again.]]>Postman Vs Psychiatrist - Who's the Best Person to Make a Diagnosis?tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.16427142012-07-04T19:00:00-04:002012-09-03T05:12:07-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Consistency.
I once advocated on behalf of a client who saw a different psychiatrist every quarterly session for four years, each time having the same introductory conversation over again and each doctor had different views about medication so that changed more often than Gloria Estefan's outfit in a pop video.
My postie has seen me every morning for the last six years and must have witnessed the cycle that is manic depression over and over. He's experienced the gibbering insomniac who won't let him leave, ("Just one game of Kerplunk") to the one refusing to open the door for paranoid days on end. He can tell I'm overspending by daily multiple packages and red letters. He sees my fluctuating weight, he sees me glammed up to the max one morning and can tell when I've not got dressed all week.
Sometimes the poor man has reverted back to knock-door-bunk, leaving Amazon parcels outside my front door for the world to help themselves to. (It's good to know that other adults are playing knock-door-bunk. As I was a late developer in the world of student nights and partying, I played knock-door-bunk, alone, until I was 19. Where I grew up many women had a family of four by then.)
It's therefore no wonder that clients, who meet a psychiatrist for the first time and receive a full diagnosis 50 minutes later, sometimes get re-diagnosed by a different psychiatrist later in life, having not only been taking the incorrect medication during that time, but have had to come to terms with a condition they didn't actually have.
Last week I went to visit a friend who's currently staying in a psychiatric hospital. On arrival the doctor was very reluctant to let me see him and I had to say I was a staff member from a mental health service to get in. He told me I can have five minutes and to prepare myself as he was extremely high (manic) and so I took a deep breath and went to find him. I can honestly say he was as manic as he usually is and no more, but having not known him prior to admission the doctor wouldn't know that.
Well, I never thought I'd be putting Royal Mail on a pedestal. They are, after all, up there in the top five things we Brits love moaning about, alongside the weather, husbands, public transport and banks. But then I'm the crazy customer that sends thank you cards to credit card companies and takes chocolates into Specsavers. Maybe one day I'll send Interflora some flowers...]]>Art Car Boot Fair 2012tag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.15651032012-06-02T15:31:18-04:002012-08-02T05:12:15-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
Usually days as hot as these I stay indoors and leave the taps on - am definitely more of a lake person than a beach person - and get the fake tan out. But this year I went down to represent Core Arts and plug some of our up and comings.
Core Arts is a gallery and venue with several art and music studios, not to mention a super sized hall, a bar and a contemporary garden, and promotes positive mental health. It's situated in the heart of Hackney and all it's experimental glory. I'm an artist/member here and I spent much of last week interviewing other artist/members about their experiences here and pretty much all of them at some point said that it's mixture of members and their personalities is what gives Core Arts it's character. From all area's of London, all types of diagnosis - which one person said he leaves at the door when he comes in, picks it up again on the way out - and a variety of talent.
The Art Car boot Fair was situated just off Brick Lane, where in the baking sun, we dressed Core Arts managers' sixties triumph in vintage bunting (courtesy of Nan's Cabinet) and filled it up with balloons - careful not to reenact a scene from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang - which we invited members of the public to scrawl on (the balloons, not the car, even art needs rules!) Some drew self portraits - Jarvis Cocker did a particular stunning self portrait on one - whilst others wrote their darkest thoughts and get go (may I add these balloons were helium) to be found weeks later by baffled europeans in their back gardens. One read "Pronoia" the reverse of paranoia where you believe although everyone is talking about you it's BECAUSE YOU'RE AMAZING, another read "olanzapinacolada" an anti-psychotic cocktail (I'll take three) and another read "I want to marry Noel Edmonds but a caravan would do" (I confess to that one). Some of out event info was attached to balloons and let off, you never know if someone in the South of Italy may just happen to be in East London that day.
Some people just came over to talk about art, others about mental health. For one woman it was one of the longest chats she'd ever had about her own mental health as she's a very busy, very work focused woman who hasn't had the opportunity to meet others with the same condition as her own. We may not be therapists, but we've been there - or are still there - and are pretty resourceful too.
Other cars (boots or stalls) see the likes of Emin International, Peter Blake, Billy Childish (who has lectured and exhibited at Core Arts, sweet, sweet man) the list goes on, and I'd only be pretending to know who they are if I continued. One stall in particular took my fancy, behind it were two guys selling tat SO useless it was actually priceless. Anything from broken buckets, one glove, tasteless watch straps...
Then there was the Double Regina Experience which, having watched the frozen faces of people exiting this tent I thought this must be well worth a quid (very cheap for East London these days) where you actually meet Queen Elizabeth I and Queens Elizabeth II and amongst the velvet and scent are given advice without offering any information first. (I kid you not, mine was "Watch what you write this week") Think Dalai Lama in a basement cafe in Dalston.
At five thirty (half an hour before the event ends) I finally made it to the bar. Thanks to Blakey, Cocker, Emin, Hogg and Childish for all the sweet and strange messages on our balloons (something I never thought I'd hear myself say) and all the artists, organizers and people that made this event soooo damn East London. Back to the comfort of my own home for Caravan documentaries and back to back episodes of Deal Or No Deal.
http://www.corearts.co.uk/]]>A Reflection of Maniatag:www.huffingtonpost.com,2012:/theblog//3.15500972012-05-29T19:00:00-04:002012-07-29T05:12:04-04:00Kerry Hudsonhttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/kerry-hudson/
As with most labels, it has been given a trendier name...bipolar disorder. I prefer the old one, it does exactly what it says on the tin. This one somewhat suggests the bisexuality of a polar bear.
Following a recent manic episode I am currently going through the usual 'reflective' phase with my psychiatrist. "Why didn't you ring me and tell me you were manic?" The thing is, the early stages of mania the high phase creeps up on me and to be honest, it's feels good, very good. It's a bit like winning the lottery, so why would I then tear my ticket up? Or winning Britain's Got Talent then going back to the bleak night shifts and daytime TV.
Then, when I've reached the manic phase - possibly because I feel so fabulous I think I don't need my lithium and stop taking it - I've lost sense of what's normal and what's not. I thought it completely acceptable to call the Police with a rambled monologue about how amazing they are and do they know why I've been banned from uniformdating.com, and pop to the shops for a bottle of cava and come back the following day with four hamsters. But alarm bells starting ringing (and cameras flashing) when I fell in the Thames river head first, trying to run along the bank at full speed whilst putting a pair of tights on.
I am aware that I'm a liability when manic. Ironically the hideous lows that follow are accompanied by self-loathing which makes the reflection period a bit like watching an EastEnders' Christmas special with your eyelids staples back whilst sitting on a block of ice.
Now, I live in Hackney in East London. You may remember last July's riots kicking off here on TV and during this time I was amidst my last (prior to above) manic episode and had to be locked indoors by a concerned partner as I was making hundreds of lemon curd sandwiches to take down to the crime scene for the Police, who by the way tend to star in my episodes. But people round here are used to it, we have the highest statistics of people with mental health problems, and if you went to the Museum of Hackney you will discover how many asylums there used to be here. Locals don't even cross the road when they see me coming anymore.
But when I lived in North London they weren't so understanding. One hot summer's day I was roller-skating around Regents Park near Camden listening to my NOW Christmas Album on my iPod, and attempted a daylight disco move thinking I was on par with Torvill and Dean after a gram of cocaine, and I went flying. A 32-year-old woman face down, limbs spread out like a star fish and crying like a four-year-old - those harmonic wails - and a nearby woman who watched the whole thing applied the breaks on the wheelchair she was pushing and rushed over and said breathlessly "Just letting you know that you still have your price tag on your top!" Oh the concern...
So, I make a list - there are many lists in my 'reflection' folder, there is even a list of lists. I write...
"How do I know when I'm high or getting manic?"
Um... Well...
I don't sleep - a combination of being too excited about stuff, usually imagined stuff, I fantasize more than I think at this stage.
I don't eat - a perk, and one that Woman magazine haven't cottoned onto yet, The Mania Diet, fifties housewives were given amphetamine-based slimming pills and hoovered all day, I guess it's a bit like that.
I drink more alcohol than usual - psychiatrists call it 'self medicating', I call it 'I want to drink a bottle of wine by four o' clock and dance round the living room to the the TV adverts because my hands are shaking too much to put a record on.'
Spending - and what with rodents also starring in my episodes, at one point I had 16 guinea pigs and 12 rabbits in a maisonette.
I'm likely to hit on anyone that stands still for long enough - for that reason a trip to Madam Tussauds is out of the question.
So the above list being my cue to make that call to my psychiatrist. Hmm... maybe I'll just make him some lemon curd sandwiches instead.