Introduction

Welcome 😊

A’s

My name is Alana. I’m a 35yr old mum of 5 children. Doesn’t seem that unusual? Throw in dealing with bipolar from the age of 13?

Definitely makes things a lot more interesting 😂. To manage my manic stages, I dabble. I’ve done a lot in my life. Some great and lol some not so great…

My oldest daughter and I 💕

So I had this fantastic manic idea 💡 to start my very own amazing lifestyle blog, full of DIYS, knowledge and goodies.

Now part of a manic phase is that you feel pretty damn brilliant! Creativity pumping through you veins with enough energy to complete them all. What’s better than that?

I just quickly want to say that there is many downsides to a manic stage as well (like the massive debt I have from drastically over spending on Art & craft supplies) but I won’t get into that in my first ever post 😊

Just one corner of my “studio” 😂

So here I am feeling like I have knowledge to share with you. Even more so I have plenty of learning experiences that I need to go through to make mine and my families life better.

If I can help just one person by giving you a true, honest and raw account of my life, good or bad. It will make me so very happy.

My partner, three youngest children and I on a holiday to Stanthorpe to visit my mum 💕

I’d love for you to come on this journey with me 😊 if you ever need someone to talk too or just want advice on a DIY, I’d love to hear from you! Just head to the contact page and you’ll find everything you need to contact me.

Cheers,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

What does it mean to you? Touching Lyrics.

A’s

Trigger Warning ⚠️

This song means so much to me. I know I’m not young anymore, but I never thought I would get as far as I have or manage to last this long.

If I Die Young
The Band Perry
If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh uh oh
Lord make me a rainbow, I’ll shine down on my mother
She’ll know I’m safe with you when
She stands under my colours, oh and
Life ain’t always what you think it oughta be, no
Ain’t even grey, but she buries her baby
The sharp knife of a short life,
Well, I’ve had just enough time
If I die young bury me in satin.
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
The sharp knife of a short life,
Well I’ve had just enough time
And I’ll be wearing white when I come into your kingdom
I’m as green as the ring on my little cold finger
I’ve never known the lovin’ of a man
But it sure felt nice when he was holding my hand
There’s a boy here in town says he’ll love me forever
Who would have thought forever could be severed by
The sharp knife of a short life,
Well I’ve had just enough time
So put on your best boys and I’ll wear my pearls
What I never did is done
A penny for my thoughts, oh no I’ll sell them for a dollar
They’re worth so much more after I’m a goner
And maybe then you’ll hear the words I been singin’
Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin’
If I die young bury me in satin
Lay me down on a bed of roses
Sink me in the river at dawn
Send me away with the words of a love song
Uh oh (uh oh)
The ballad of a dove
Go with peace and love
Gather up your tears, keep ’em in your pocket
Save ’em for a time when your really gonna need ’em oh
The sharp knife of a short life,
Well I’ve had just enough time
So put on your best boys, and I’ll wear my pearls
Songwriters: Kimberly Perry
If I Die Young lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC.
You can view the video clip Here.

This song means so much to me. This is what I feel about this song.

She loves her mother. Wants her to know she will be okay.

She knows everyone would come together for a beautiful funeral, even though no one came forward to truely help her before it got to that point.

She feels she’s had long enough in this life, she’s content to go.

The sharp knife of a short life? Well I think this is self explanatory. All it takes is a sharp knife to end all the pain.

“Gather up your tears, save them for a time when you’ll need them.”

This has two meanings for me.

Been screaming for help. No one cares, why cry after it’s been done?

I’m happier now. For someone suicidal, they need the pain to stop. Don’t cry, I’m good now. Finally.

Now my most important verse. Even if you do not agree with any other part of my post, this is something everyone should listen too.

A penny for my thoughts, oh no I’ll sell them for a dollar
They’re worth so much more after I’m a goner
And maybe then you’ll hear the words I been singin’
Funny when you’re dead how people start listenin’

To me, she is stating that no one listens. Please take the time to listen to anyone who needs to talk.

Everyone is sad after there is a suicide but how many can say they tried to help before that?

“LISTEN BEFORE ITS TOO LATE!”

What are your thoughts and feelings about this song? Please share.

Cheers,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

Self-injury Awareness Day – My story

A’s

WARNING: Graphic & Triggering Content.

Self-injury or self-harm is widely criticised. “Normal” people don’t understand how we could possibly want to intentionally hurt or injure ourselves. It’s against human nature of survival and self- preservation, so it’s not well understood.

For a better grasp on self-injury awareness look Here

For me, self harm didn’t really pop up until I was older, or so I thought until recently.

I didn’t realise that what I had been doing since the age of 12, was considered self harm.

I didn’t realise that not wearing a seat belt in a car, not checking the road before you cross and not seeking medical care when your hurt are all forms of self injury. I have done these my whole life.

I have for most of my life, picked, dug and destroyed my arms. This moved onto my legs, to give my arms time to heal. I feel ashamed and ugly after I’ve had a session of “picking”, as we call it.

This pic is of my calf. After not touching my legs for a couple of days. It’s starting to heal. It has been much worse, during bad times.

The feeling I get from doing it at the time, is so relieving, it’s hard to stop. I can be there for hours, destroying myself, just to ease some pain.

When your feeling physical pain, it stops your mind from hurting, stops the thoughts. It gives mild relief, while I’m doing it.

https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Excoriation_disorder

This pic shows scars on my upper thigh from “picking”, also the now healing word “Hated”.

I used to attempt suicide, almost regularly. Since realising how damaging this was to my family, I’ve moved to cutting. Although I call it carving, because it’s words not straight cuts. I have scarred words over most of my hidden body. Alone, poison, hated, lost, useless and evil, too name a few.

My GP asked do I self harm? I said yes and showed her. She told me this wasn’t considered self harm because I didn’t cut to stop feeling emptiness. I cut to punish and to stop distressing thoughts and ease emotional pain. I punish, so I don’t kill myself.

I feel my GP is a little ignorant to mental health issues. Being the only free doctor in town, I don’t have choices to go elsewhere.

I love the times I feel emptiness, it doesn’t happen often or last long but I get relief when it’s there. Bored relief but that’s still so much better than pain.

So for me self harm is a survival method for now and I can’t wait for the day that I no longer feel the need to do this. I know my day will come, eventually.

I believe self harm is a coping mechanism for people too nice to take their problems out on others.

My dad was a violent, angry man. Who took all his mental pain out on those around him. I feel I’m the only person who deserves that, not my family, not the people I love.

Just remember their is hope. With help you can learn different, less harmful coping mechanisms.

Thank you so much for reading. If I can help one person with my post, I’ll be happy.

Cheers,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

A need for a diagnosis pt. 4 – The first visit with a Psychologist

A’s

So I woke up at 5:30am this morning so I had time to mentally prepare myself before my appointment. My partner became very ill during the night, which meant I was on my own.

Being by myself, without his support is hard and nerve racking but as I had taken my diazepam much later the night before I’m sure it was still very much in my system. As I walked down to the medical centre (we are rural so only get visiting services), I worked through my anxiety with some simple breathing techniques.

Upon entering his office. He welcomed me, introduced himself and was very pleasant. He ran through the confidentiality agreement and informed me I am allowed ten free sessions, maybe three more if he deems it necessary.

He then asked me what’s going on right now in my life that brings me to him? I tell him I’ve only had a GP diagnosis of major depression and generalised anxiety disorder but I’m sure that although I do suffer depression and anxiety, it doesn’t add up to all my symptoms.

I didn’t tell him what I thought. I want to let him lead the way and make an informed decision about my diagnosis. The whispering and shadows are really scaring me and I’m not sure what’s right or wrong anymore. I’m not sure if my thoughts can be trusted.

He then asked me two sets of questions on his tablet. Simple basic questions like, how often do you feel depressed?

After this he turned the screen to show me my score and result. My score was 45 and the result said “High Probability of Severe Mental Illness”. I’m not sure what this score and result means, other than him telling me he is worried by anything over 30 and that “don’t worry, I won’t lock you up or anything”.

He also advised that my starting score is high but with the right therapy we could drastically reduce my score. I have hope. Hope, that one day I may feel normal. Not that I think I’ve ever felt normal.

He also ran me through a mindfulness session. I enjoyed this, I almost felt relaxed.

I was given tons of information sheets and “homework” as the psychologist called it. Which is questionnaires, goals and a daily routine chart.

He then made me a new appointment for next week. He also made me shake his hand and promise no suicide attempts while he is treating me. I fully agreed. I’m willing to do anything (I think) to get better for my children and partner.

Thank you for reading my entire post. If this helps just one person, I’ll be happy.

Cheers,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

“What makes you leave a comment?”

A’s

What makes a blog post, so touching that you feel the need to add a comment?

Everything I’ve read, tells me:

Be genuine, be yourself.

Talk from your heart.

Write clearly, with no mistakes.

Attention grabbing titles.

Everything else you read is commercialised crap to make money. I want to make a difference by sharing my stories, not make money. If I make a bad situation easier for just one person, I’d be happy.

I am not highly educated, year nine in high school was the most I had completed. Between home life and severe bullying, schooling wasn’t much of an option.

Do I wait until I’m better with a full diagnosis? So I can actually help people? I thought writing my stories while I was full of raw emotion, would make them more relatable?

I really would like to be given a chance to help others. I’ve never been much good at helping myself, I’m trying though. I’m trying to use my own advice.

I personally leave comments, when I feel empathy for someone. Usually I can sense if someone needs encouragement, a listening ear or true help.

Also if the post is interesting and powerful, I’m also compelled to comment. I like every post I read, because someone put there effort and time into the piece and they deserve a like.

If your willing and have time, please leave a comment as to “what makes you leave a comment?”

Cheers,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

Invisible Illness

A’s

Sorry, I haven’t posted much. I have had so much going on. Medical and psych appointments. I have 15 draft posts and can’t seem to put finishing touches on any of them.

I’m on my path for a true diagnosis, which is taking time and energy.

I needed to do something though. This poem is from my heart.

A pretty face

A confident walk

A shy smile

She needs to talk

You can’t see

What’s underneath

Pain and suffering

Never complete

She cuts, she carves

Words of hate

Her body, her mind

It’s too late

No love for her

It’s not enough

All alone

No one to trust

She survives

For the sake of others

Not her own

She is a mother

When she says “good bye”

Know she tried

But surviving, isn’t living

This is why she’ll die.

Take care, Alana 💕

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

To my beautiful mother…

A’s

To mum,

You have been my support, my shoulder to cry on, my rational voice, my saviour on far too many occasions.

You are the strongest person I know. Dealing with a lot. You’ve lost four children. Mandy, to cot death. The twins were premature and didn’t make it. Peter committed suicide.

You survived all that and was still a caring and kind woman.

Me. I’ve been the biggest trial for you. Dealing with all the times I tried killing myself, oh the memories of Peter you must endure, yet you stayed by my side and helped me come out the other side a bit more broken but okay.

Now your time is shortening and you’ll soon be gone, how will I survive. Without my saviour?

I hate breast cancer. I hate brain tumours. You deserve none of this. You want too live. If I could give you my healthy body that won’t seem to die, I would.

I’d take your death sentence for you, happily if it meant you would get to stay in this world and bless more people with your kindness.

Dying is easy for me, living isn’t. So I’m pushing you away, to try and shield myself from the pain. How unbelievably selfish. I’ve stopped talking to you because it is too painful.

I don’t want you to know how badly I’m failing at the moment. How I gave up my job as a sushi chef. How I barely leave the house and is constantly thinking about suicide.

I’m running out of time to talk, chat and visit. I’m trying so hard to make myself call you. I just pray that I’m not too late.

I love you mum. So, so very much. You are my hero, my saviour. I truely wish I could of been a better daughter for you.

Much love,

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

Anxious Fear, What am I?

A’s

I have hundreds of different feelings everyday. Which feelings are correct? A lot of the time I can’t even tell what I’m feeling let alone, if it’s right to be feeling that way.

I’m at the stage that I have to call the CATT team. If I really want the help I need anyway.

See, I just typed that paragraph so simply. Yet, it absolutely terrifies me! Anxiety bubbles in my chest, breathing quickens, these intense emotions are quite unbearable.

What am I scared of? Not knowing what will happen? Will I keep on being turned away?

Will it turn out there is nothing wrong with me? Nothing at all and I’m just a sometimes weak and useless, other times an uncontrollable reckless mess of a human being?

That’s the closest to the truth.

The psychologist I had been seeing last year just kept saying. “You’ve had a traumatic life, Alana. All these feelings are normal”

I have never felt normal. I would have no idea what normal feels like. I have been this way since the age of 13, when severe suicidal depression took hold.

This is a photo of me at age 13 at a birthday party. Can you see the depression? Or is it only me that sees it?

This crippling fear is what stops me from picking up the phone and calling the CATT team, pleading for help. I just wish someone would shove me in the right direction. You know, a good old push.

I don’t know what’s worse. Thinking nothing is wrong and I’m fine or thinking something is wrong and being too gutless to do something about it?

So how do I overcome this fear? How do I stop the anxiety? I know most blogs give you the golden answer to your problems but I have no answer yet.

Do you have methods of dealing with fear and anxiety? Please share your thoughts, I’d be so very grateful.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post, it means so much to me.

Alana

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

The need for a Diagnosis Pt. 2 – The Australian public health system.

A’s

So it appears getting anywhere with the public health system is nearly impossible.

Everyone should know how hard it is to even admit you have a mental illness, let alone know when to get help when it’s needed.

It’s very easy with bipolar to think your fine, better than fine, fantastic even. Better than ever, when you are manic. So you only see doctors when your depressed. This is how I only have a diagnosis of major depression with suicidal tendencies and generalised anxiety disorder.

I sent a text to the psychologist that I had been seeing a bit last year, who is quite aware (well if she looked through her notes) of how suicidal I am.

* I’ve taken out names simply because I’m unsure if I’m legally allowed. *

Hi ——–,

My name is Alana (my last name). I don’t know if you remember me, I was seeing you a bit last year. I’m in a really bad way, am I able to get an appointment with you? I was told if I can’t get an appt. with you quickly, I should call the CAT team. Thank you, Alana

CATT – the crisis assessment and treatment team

If you are having a mental emergency in Australia, the CATT team is who you should contact. I need to get the courage and do this myself.

How to contact the CAT team

Just getting the courage to send a text admitting you need help is hard. This is the reply I received.

Hi Alana,

I’m sorry but we don’t have any appointments till the week of the 10th of December, I can put you on our waitlist if any cancellations come up if you like?

Thank you, ———-.

*Just so your aware the 10th of December was 3 weeks away*

I was not considered an emergency. She didn’t care. I felt crushed. No one cares if I live or die.

I then receive this message:

Hi Alana,

To see ———- on Mental Health Care Plan, you will need one from your Gp. The very last plan from First ——– Medical had declined with Medicare due to a First ——— issue. Once you have obtained a new MHCP we can re-book you in to see ——. Please do not hesitate to call me if need on ———–.

Thank you

———–

NNOT

So it all comes down to payment. No one cares about another’s life unless they are being paid to care. It’s truely tragic when you constantly see all these suicide prevention issues on the news, it is a MASSIVE ISSUE.

I make a doctors appointment, the earliest bulk billing appointment I can get is the 14th of January, 2019. How can I possibly last that long?

Everyday is so long and painful. I can get happy mania and sad mania. This is the second sad mania I ever remember having. I get severely depressed but I can’t sleep. I think constantly about suicide. My brain won’t shut off. I am continuously planning my own death and finalising things around the house before I go.

The scariest part of feeling like this is the anger and frustration I feel. I’m not an angry person normally. Mostly I’m calm, I prefer to not deal with drama of any kind and just keep to myself.

I’m not a mean person, I don’t wish harm on anyone. So all this anger turns onto me. I deserve this treatment, if I was normal this wouldn’t happen. I deserve to die painfully for all the wrongs I have ever made.

This message came back from the doctors:

***Good Morning

You are currently scheduled to have a Dr appointment at First —- Medical Centre on Monday 7th January at 4.00pm

Due to our Doctor having to service a Nursing Home in the district unexpectedly we have had to reschedule your appointment for Wednesday 16 January at 3.45pm

If this time does not suit please call the clinic on ———— to reschedule

We apologise for the inconvenience

Kind Regards

Reception

First ——— Medical Centre ***

Now this is confusing, my appointment was never on the 7th of January? Okay so I just decide to go on the 16th anyway.

Then yesterday I received this message:

URGENT NOTICE!

Dear patient,

Your appointment at First ——– Medical Center on the 14th of January 2019 has unfortunately needed to be cancelled due to the general practitioner you where booked in to see has had a sudden death in his family. We will contact you once confirmation is received for your new appointment time.

If you are unable to wait for our next available appointment, please call ——- Medical, ——- Medical or —— Medical to be seen.

We appoligise for this inconvenience

First ——- Medical

Now I fully understand having a death in the family is a hugely tragic event. Trust me, my father is on life support after attempting suicide and my mother has a brain tumour and only has months to live (several whole other stories there) which is partly what’s tearing me through this horrible mania.

I am left with traveling over an hour away or pay for a private doctor. We just got past Christmas, my daughters 10th birthday and about to get the kids back to school. I can’t afford to do either.

I can sometimes hold a job. I only just quit my last job weeks before Christmas, when my family needed money the most. That job only lasted 8 months. Sometimes I just crack and feel like I just can’t live through another minute doing it. Anyway yet again that’s another post, for another day.

Still, this is what I’m left dealing with. No idea when I can get help. Being nearly positive I’m not going to make it……

*my next step will hopefully be in Pt. 3, as long as I’m still around. For my kids sake, I hope so 🤞

If any true and caring psychiatrist’s in Queensland would like to treat me for free, I’m sure I’d make an interesting subject for multiple diagnoses.

Bipolar Posts (caution contains real life content)

The Need for a Diagnosis Part 1

A’s

In the throes of Mania with SOME mental clarity.

I’m writing this post out of sheer raw emotion. Please be gentle with any comments.

I was told when I was 16 that I had Bipolar. I couldn’t have ran faster from the hospital as I did that day. I don’t have that! I just want to die. Trust me, if you knew about my life you wouldn’t ask why?

I’m sure I will delve more into my crazy life in other posts anyways.

So I never went back. I was to scared to admit that I had a mental illness. I never sought treatment. This is me. Jumping from crazy new profession/idea to deep suicidal depression. I’ve now done this for 22 years. Oh sure, I’ve gone to the doctors when my family has had enough or a suicide attempt will land me there. In total I have had 8 suicide attempts. I kinda suck at it to be honest.

So here I am. 35 years old. The last thing I was told I had was GAD (Generalised anxiety disorder) & Major Depression with Suicidal thoughts. So the doctor put me on 50mg Setraline. It made me crazy suicidal. The doctor increased Setraline to 100mg, then to 200mg.

Something I painted awhile ago, depicts how I feel a lot of the time.

I’ve been slowly getting used to them. Anxiety gone. No really deep depression. The biggest thing it helped me with? Slowing my thoughts down. I didn’t even realise how fast I used to think. It gives me time to understand someone else’s point of view or finish a project instead of getting bored and jumping to the next project (mostly).

I need a proper diagnosis. My family is at the point of falling apart. I’ve broken us financially for the last time. That’s on me. I need to be on the correct medication, with the right therapy. I need to get better for my family.

This is a huge step for me. I can see a light, hope that I could get better.

Admitting bipolar, too myself and the world. Oh how my life may have been different if I’d stayed for treatment back when I was 16.

I’d also like to say that I can talk about it like this because I am manic. I am not suicidal, currently the Setraline helps with that.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story.

Pt. 2 will be about my doctors experiences and what it takes to get a proper diagnoses.

Cheers,

Alana