“I don’t ever want to feel
Like I did that day”
“Under the Bridge” – Red Hot Chilli Peppers
——
Four weeks have passed since I was admitted to hospital. A lot has happened. It has been a rough ride.
I’ve had to deal with depression, dysphoria, mania, hallucinations and paranoia. It has been a hell of a fight and I wasn’t able to battle without help. So many people have been with me on the journey. Foremost of course is my family. Their support has been unerring. The medical team that care for me have been exemplary. The nursing staff superb. And with all their help, I have survived yet again. I am still alive. I am victorious.
I have rekindled friendships along the way. I’ve made contact with old college friends to whom I hadn’t spoken in years. There have been encouraging words from work colleagues and the successful public launch of this blog. My parents have helped enormously in minding my children while they were on school holidays at Easter. My sisters have helped to keep me going, my oldest sister and her husband are stalwarts in particular and regular visitors. They kept me supplied with Pringles and sparkling water. In short, I have not been alone and I am truly grateful.
One of the nicest side effects of my stay in hospital is that I got to know my youngest sister better than I ever had before. There is an age gap of nearly two decades between us. I was away in college when she was born and she grew up without me sharing any life experiences with her. As she grew older, I became like a distant uncle who would visit intermittently and offer a few quid as a treat. I really had a weak relationship with her. She is in her twenties now and I have been delighted to discover that she is a beautiful, intelligent, spiritual and empathic young woman. She is happy and well balanced and sends me humorous messages on a daily basis and I have come to depend on them to brighten my day. I look forward to them. I hope she has enjoyed coming to know me better too.
I have learned a great deal during this admission. I have learned to appreciate what I have. I went for a walk in Phoenix Park at the start of the week and was struck by the beauty of the blooming flowers and I attach a few photos to share the experience.
I hope I have learned to ask for help a bit sooner and not let my health deteriorate to the extent that I need to come to hospital. I’ve learned that sometimes a man needs to cry and that’s okay. The tears will stop when I need them no longer. I think that will be a while coming.
I like to think that my sons can learn from me. I hope they understand that all men have demons, have worries, have suffering. I hope they see that the mark of a man is in how he faces them. I hope they comprehend that you can not easily face them on your own. Maybe they see me kiss my wife, hold her hand, give her a hug and know that as a couple, we are strong. We have been together twenty years now and we have defeated bipolar disorder many times. We beat it every day. I hope they know we can deal with whatever life has to offer. I really hope they understand the power of love!
I am feeling much better. I am sleeping longer at night. The black ball is quiescent but I’m aware of it in the background. I feel calm and peaceful, something I haven’t been blessed with in a long time. I’m on the mend and I feel a renewed vigour. Today I have a date to go shopping with my eldest son and I’m looking forward to it. I’m proud that he asked me to join him.
I’ll be discharged in a few weeks. I can feel it. Look out. I’m coming home!
