Self Awareness

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There was a time when I used to get all excited about Christmas. Just in case you don't believe me, have a look at the picture below.

I look at that picture and I think "is that really me?!" Nowadays, I seem to have lost my Christmas zest. I used to think it was because of the depression (which of course had something to do with it) but I now know there is something else at play here. Something beyond my being clinically depressed.

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As my hubby was sitting next to me, driving along in the wintry sunshine, I had a light-bulb moment. Just like that. Out of the blue. It suddenly occurred to me that my bi-polar disorder was a powerful physical metaphor for my 'Emotional Swing-o-Metre'.

I have spoken many times of the monster that lived inside my father and that could switch him from a warm loving daddy into a dangerous violent one. This was how I used to experience my father's own bi-polar disorder as a child.

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After a few days of being dozed off my feet, I have resumed my office-clearing extravaganza. As a result of all that sorting out, two things have happened:

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I have just had my hair cut. I could not stand it any longer. The beautiful stylish (expensive) haircut and colour my mother bought me while I was in France had outgrown its shape. It had started to look like an invasion of the hairy snatchers: hair in my eyes, hair sticking up over my ears, and - my least favourite of all - hair sticking up in my neck.

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It was bound to happen: after my few days of cleaning and clearing, I am in serious dozing mode. This is the bottom of my little bi-polar wave. Up and down, up and down. Today is definitely down.

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My hubby often says to me when he walks into the kitchen: "you're cooking up a storm in here!" and I love that expression of his. It gives the word storm a very positive meaning for me, as opposed to the awful feeling of being in the storm of bi-polar depression. Also, I enjoy the feeling of 'cooking up a storm' because it is full of energy.

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I am in clearing/cleaning mode this week. I suddenly feel the urge to clear my office out. I feel the need to reorganise my books and to re-read them. Considering how many books I own, all that re-reading should keep me busy for a good long while.

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As I had finished writing to my Bi-Polar Depression, I felt another letter knocking at the door of my thinking. As it won't go away, I think it best for me to take action: in order to complete my personal healing correspondence I also need to write a letter to my medication.  So here goes.

Dear Medication

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I have conversations with my cat. Even more astonishingly, my cat has conversations with me. I often ask myself what the noises she hears and makes actually mean to her and, even though I have no answer to my question, I regularly marvel at our rapport.

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