Author: Daibhi45

It’s Paddy”s weekend. I’ve been in hospital nearly three weeks. I’m on the mend. Progress is slow. It always is.

I’ve been released home for three days. It’s the maximum allowed. It’s good to be home. I’m grateful. Maybe I will sleep a little better in my own bed. Last night I got three hours sleep. I had a shower at 4 o’clock. The day stretches. I’m reminded of the Billy Joel song “Goodnight Saigon” – the nights seemed to last as long as six weeks…

Hospital is what you make of it. For me it is a place of hope. I typically feel better within a few weeks of an admission. I just have to accept that I need help and allow the professionals to do their job. I’ve started seeing my psychotherapist again too. That’s tough going but it is for the best. I tend to keep to myself in St. Pat’s. I’m a good judge of the audience. Stick with the winners and keep your head down.

As I write this I am aware that it sounds like a prison. In many ways it is. There is a hidden curriculum, rules to obey. The coffee is shite! But when you are rehabilitated you get to leave. Just like I am now. Sitting at home, listening to music and typing my thoughts.

I don’t have any great plans for the weekend. I’ve already been into town. I bought an ear ring. Yes, I got my ear pierced. Twice. On impulse but I really like them. I’m turning into a hippy. I had to wait until I was 53 years old to pierce my ear. An old dog.

Obviously enough, I haven’t been working. I miss the teaching. I don’t miss the Anaesthesia. The long hours and the stress. The uncertainty. I haven’t been missed either. People just get on with their lives. I’m replaceable. So are you. I was burnt out. Retiring from clinical practice was the best thing I ever did.

And yet, here I am a few months later and back I n hospital again. I used to think that the stress of work triggered my mood disturbance but now I see that it only made it unmanageable. The mood swings keep coming. They are a part of my life and what matters is how I deal with them.

I am optimistic that I will be discharged from hospital in a few weeks. Then starts the process of recovery. But I don’t mind. I’m looking forward to it. I’m not alone. I have my family and friends. I have my faith in the Buddha. The summer is coming. Let the good times roll…

It’s over 3 years since I posted. There is a lot of water under the bridge. Some things remain the same. I still suffer from Bipolar Disorder. That won’t ever change. My wife is still my greatest supporter. I hope that will never change. I’m in the middle of a mood swing. I’m unwell. That is going to change.

Remember how I used to say that my mood swings were short lived? That I was lucky? Well I tempted faith. I was depressed for most of 2023/24. I was hospitalised a few times and finally things started to improve last summer. I was taking an antidepressant which worked well until this year. I was in good form and life was easy.

But then I switched. I became hypomanic, elated, high. It’s better than depression but it is still decidedly unpleasant and equally destructive if left unchecked. I’ve said before that is difficult to describe a high. I feel edgy, on high alert and running on adrenaline. I’m lucky if I sleep for 3 hours at night. Three broken hours. Lots of vaping and cups of chamomile tea. Feeling restless and agitated. It sucks!

It can be induced by using antidepressants. It’s often heralded by the change of season. Either way, I have to get out from under it’s grip.

When I was feeling depressed last year I gave much thought to retiring from clinical practice. I toyed with the idea for a long time. Finally, at the start of summer, I hung up my boots. It was unclear what I was going to do with myself. Then opportunity came knocking on my door. I got a contract as a “Senior Educator” if you don’t mind. In short, I’m teaching. I love it. The students are enthusiastic and my years of clinical practice means that they have something to gain from my experience. The hours are less and there is no stress. I really have landed on my feet.

So what of this most recent admission? Well it’s not so bad. A few weeks off work and a tweak of my medication and I will be back to my old self. Or, should that be my new self? At least this time of rest has given me the wish to write my blog again. Come join me on a new journey….

I don’t know why it’s so long since I posted. Partly I just forgot. Maybe I had nothing to say. Maybe I was feeling too well.

I was reading my posts from the start of the year. How did I find the strength to keep going? Life was so difficult. I felt so alone. In truth I don’t remember being so depressed. I know I was so low that it warranted time off work and a virtual admission to hospital. But I don’t remember having such a miserable time.

It’s a blessing that I forget. Maybe it is a survival mechanism. The minds simply bundles the horrors away to protect you. Maybe it is better that I don’t remember. But as I write this blog I have a sinking sensation in my gut. I haven’t forgotten completely. And I know it can come back.

I think I’ve become better at dealing with my mood swings with age. I’ve become better at noticing the triggers that herald a meltdown, better at taking care of myself, better at seeking help. I still get depressed but it’s not so severe and it doesn’t last as long. I don’t get highs quite as often but the same rules apply.

I try to take care of myself by getting enough sleep, meditating and getting enough exercise. Almost as important as this is keeping communications open. Contact with my wife and family, contact with my colleagues and contact with my spiritual friends. That is what keeps me sane or as close as I get to sanity anyway.

I guess the message I have today is obvious. I can only get so far on my own. I can get sleep and take my medication but without my wife and my psychiatrist, I will only get so far. I need the support of my friends to lift me from the depths of isolation.

No man is an island. It’s an old saying. Many learn the lesson at a young age. I was much older before I understood. Maybe I resisted. Perhaps my missed that class at school. Maybe I’m just not the brightest.

Bipolar disorder is my teacher. And I assure you, I’m listening now.

The tide turns. It always does. I’m through the worst of the storm. The waters are calmer. I’m still under the close supervision of my psychiatrist and his team but they will soon fade into the background. Always waiting for the next time they will be called into action. Hopefully not for a few years. Not in full force at any rate.

One of the hardest things to accept with a diagnosis of Bipolar Disorder is that the mood swings will keep coming. Despite the best of precautions, there will be highs and lows outside the experience of most people. There will be difficult days. Some I can manage myself. Some will need professional assistance. Crucially, always I need the support of others. I never do it on my own.

My psychiatrist would talk of “triggers”. Conditions and circumstances that cause enough stress on my mental health to lead to instability. That lead inevitably to meltdown. I’ve started seeing my psychotherapist again. It’s been a while. I appreciate his guidance through the web of my thoughts. Together we try to decipher the triggers and he helps me discover solutions. He doesn’t fix my problems. He helps me see with clarity. Then I can fix them myself.

Many circumstances have contrived to make my mood disorder flare up. To make my life unmanageable. Collectively they could be described as excessive stress. In retrospect the progression looks obvious. Patently obvious.

I heard it described recently, in a podcast, that there is a hidden message in depression. Our brain is telling us that we have spent too much time striving to achieve and not enough on creative activities that soothe us. That’s a very simplified version of the message. But in essence, there is imbalance and we are getting an opportunity to straighten our lives.

Looking back, I can see how the stress built up. Long hours at work, lack of sleep, no exercise and problems at home outside of my control. It was no one event rather a succession that drove me out of control.

But there is good news. Many of these factors can be altered. I have no one but myself to blame if I continue to work excessive hours. I have a degree of control over that. I didn’t realise it was a problem. I needed to be shown. Depression opened my eyes. Now it’s up to me to solve it.

And simply by freeing up time I’m in a better position to approach the other stresses in my life. I can exercise, I can meditate and I can spend time with friends albeit on Zoom for the moment. Having spent more time at home lately, I’m convinced that the problems at home are not insurmountable. All this just by deciding to work less. It’s a no-brainer.

I’m deeply grateful to many people for helping me to survive this episode. For making it easier. My family, my Buddhist friends but particularly to my colleagues at work. All have carried me. All have kept me company. All have shown me love and compassion.

But I am also grateful to depression. If I had my time over I would still chose Bipolar Disorder over many other types of illness. It continually opens my eyes. It teaches me. I hope the next lesson isn’t for a while. I have taken enough exams for now. School is out.

Maybe all illnesses are the same. Maybe every time we hit a low point we are given a chance to adjust the path of our lives? Maybe when we are forced to slow down that the fog lifts?

Maybe suffering is the greatest messenger. And suffering can be overcome. You just need faith.

Life is tough at the moment. The relief I felt in early November was short lived. I was depressed all through November and over Christmas. It got worse in January. I can’t work at the moment. I barely function.

It got to the point where my thoughts became sluggish, my movements slow. It is particularly hard in the morning. Things improve as the day passes. I get some relief in the evening. I feel more human. Less of a burden.

I wake early. Usually between 4.00 and 5.00am. I sit in the kitchen and vape. I drink coffee to try and kick-start my brain. My concentration is poor. The effort of writing this is difficult. I sit in the kitchen and experience the worst of the symptoms on my own. It’s lonely. I pray for my wife to join me. I crave company. I crave distraction. I beg for the pain to relent.

I would describe myself as moderately depressed. I’ve been worse. I’m not suicidal. I’m not angry. A bit cranky yes, but not much. I haven’t upset anyone. I haven’t done anything I regret.

I haven’t had a shave in over a week. A shower since last weekend. I can’t. I don’t care.

Finally, when I felt I could go no further on my own, I called my psychiatrist. Arguably, I should have contacted him sooner. Maybe I let it go too far. He offered me a virtual admission to St Pat’s. All of the benefits of an inpatient admission but all the while remaining at home. If there is no improvement, a bed awaits me if I need to use it. It’s an attractive package.

I slept on the idea and discussed it with my wife before putting the wheels in motion. The programme starts this morning. I’m in the care of St. Pat’s once more.

There is comfort in asking for help. I will let someone else drive for a while. I’m going to sit in the back. Maybe I’ll have a nap. Maybe my wife will give me a blanket. Maybe she will be my blanket. There is a light at the end of the tunnel however distant. There is hope.

I can’t enjoy my usual activities. I can’t play my flute. I can’t read. So I listen to music and try to get lost in the beauty of Mozart. I’ll recommence as I improve. I will get better.

So why do I write this miserable post? Maybe someone reads it who relates to my description of depression. Maybe someone is struggling. I urge you to have the courage to ask for help. Life can get better.

You just have to believe.

We are on the cusp of release. Another period of lockdown is about to come to an end. The shops will be open for Christmas and no doubt the masses will descend. I will probably be among them. It promises to be mayhem. But I’m sure it will be exciting too.

I was struggling when I last posted. My mood was low. That feeling persisted into November and I took some time off work. I needed to recharge the batteries, feed the soul. I’m glad I did. It worked. I feel much better this past week. My experience of depression is that it always lifts but the time to myself helped it along its way.

One symptom of depression, when I’m in the throes of it, is early-morning-waking. I typically wake between 4am and 5am. There’s not much to do at that hour of the morning. Even when you consider that I go out to work at 6.30am, I still have a few hours to kill.

So recently I started meditating in the morning when everyone is still in bed and I’m really enjoying it. It passes twenty to thirty minutes and it’s really invigorating. I genuinely recommend giving it a try. I have meditated in the evening for some time but I much prefer the early session. Now that my sleep patterns are returning to normal, I still get up at 5.30am to have a sit and I’m still ready in time to go to work. It just means going to bed early and I take it gently at the weekend. I hope my enthusiasm lasts. Time will tell.

Another thing that is typical of my episodes of depression is impulse buying. I buy things to cheer me up. It’s understandable but flawed. It never helps. All I do is work up a big balance on my credit card.

Take for example the new iPhone I bought. I was excited for a few minutes while I went online to order it. But when it came, I didn’t feel any happier. It’s just a phone. It’s no real improvement on the model I had before. In fact the only joy it gives is when talking to family and friends. And the last one did that perfectly well. In short, it was a waste of money.

Logically I know that material things can’t bring me happiness but that doesn’t stop me. The power of advertising has suggested that I will not be satisfied without them. When I’m down I’m even more susceptible to the lure of shiny new gadgets. Well I’m going to try and resist. I’m going to try and stop.

This new resolution starts now. I usually get carried away at this time of year and buy plethora of Christmas gifts. I’m going to be a bit more measured this year.

More meditation, less junk.

It’s a long time since I posted. It has been an unusual and uncertain time. The country is in lockdown for the second time. The number of cases of infection and death rise despite my wish in April of a soft second surge. The reference to Covid 19 in the media is impossible to avoid. It commandeers conversation. It’s is omnipresent. It feels interminable. I am weary of it. I pray it releases us soon.

Like everyone else, I am trying to get on with life as best I can. I am fortunate. I get to go to work daily. I get to meet my fellow workers. I have a distraction. For everything else, there is Zoom. I don’t think I would tolerate working from home. I would struggle with the isolation. I don’t think I would have the discipline to be productive. Anyway, it doesn’t apply to me. I’m just pontificating.

Work has been busy. I left the maternity hospital in July and returned to the clinic I have worked in for the past twelve year. I enjoyed my locum experience but I was glad to return to the place I call home. I dipped my toe in a new pond but eventually found the water slightly chilly. I found the on call work draining. It took me days to recover from twenty four hour shifts when I was typically in at night. Sleep deprivation is inadvisable for someone with bipolar disorder and I found it very destabilising.

My current work environment is not without its hazards. The workload in the clinic has been unusually heavy since the beginning of the summer and it has taken it’s toll. Having only taken one week off since February, fatigue is building up.

I found my mood dipping in the past month and life is particularly difficult for the last fortnight. This time of year heralds depression and I am no stranger to it. I know it will pass.

In the meantime I use all the supports at my disposal. I’ve consulted with my psychiatrist. I try to meditate regularly. I keep in contact with friends. I push myself to exercise albeit within a five kilometre radius of my home. And I turn to my wife to carry me over the coals. I’m lucky. I’m not alone.

As always the depression will lift and I will have energy again. Hopefully it will coincide with the lifting of the restrictions and the approach of Christmas. And then we can all have fun again. Heaven knows we’ve earned it.

Life has settled down somewhat in recent weeks. The pandemic continues but as a country, we have managed it very well. The hospitals were very busy but it seems not overrun. We are coping. Many people have unfortunately lost their lives but honestly, I expected it to be much worse. The country is in lockdown and older people are cocooning but everyone seems to be getting on with life. The big fear now is a rebound surge when the restrictions are lifted. Hopefully we will land gently. Only time will tell.

I am relatively content with life at the moment. I have settled in well to my new role in the maternity hospital. Initially I was a bit nervous. I had a lot to relearn. I felt that I had to prove myself. I was lacking in self confidence. That has passed. The learning curve was steep but I climbed it successfully. I have come out the other side of the murky forest of insecurity and the light has dawned. I can do this and not only that but everybody knows it. I am on the same roster as the other consultants and I have not been found wanting.

Not only that, but I am really enjoying myself. Being involved in the birth of babies is quite a positive experience. There is great satisfaction in siting an epidural and relieving an expectant mother of labour pains. It’s good for the soul. There is some exposure to Covid-19 but it is not a large part of my working day. Anyway, we are well prepared.

There are other benefits to my new role. We have Non Consultant Hospital Doctors (NCHD’s) working with us. They carry a portion of the workload. I’m not used to having help. I’m not used to having company. For the last 12 years, I worked on my own with only the occasional conversation with a surgeon my only source of entertainment. Socialising with other Anaesthetists was uncommon. That’s what I got used to.

In addition, I meet with other consultant Anaesthetists every day. Not only do I get to share a coffee but I get to discuss clinical situations with my peers. There is a sense that I am part of a team. I am not isolated and alone. I like that.

My mood was elated for a few weeks. It wasn’t bad. The combination of the excitement of a new job coupled with the start of longer, brighter days sent me a bit high. My sleep was disturbed. I was waking early and bouncing out of bed. There isn’t much to do at 5.00am and persistent lack of sleep made me a bit tetchy at home.

But it has passed as quickly as it came. I was talking to my psychiatrist and we adjusted my medication. The changes have taken effect and I’m getting a full night’s sleep again. As I said, it wasn’t bad. My concentration was unaffected and I didn’t suffer any agitation or restlessness. If anything, I had a bit more energy.

And that’s where jogging come in. I needed an outlet for the extra energy so I took up running. I downloaded a “Couch to 5k” app on my phone and on my days off, I run around the block. I’m on week 3 of an 8 week program and aim to be able to run 5k at the end of it. Here’s hoping I keep it up.

I have no doubt that increasing my medication was the primary catalyst in returning my mood to stability but there were other factors. I have a renewed interest in meditation and find it very relaxing and calming. Just 20 minutes a day can work wonders. I highly recommend it. The quiet acceptance of my wife as she deftly guided me towards activities to relax me is always invaluable. Her patience is endless. And the support of my Buddhist friends meant that I was never alone.

So all in all, things are good. Work is good, my mood is good and my family are good, if a little stir crazy. But then, who isn’t. It is difficult not being able to meet with people but that might get easier in the coming weeks

I’m optimistic for the future. I hope it lives up to the promise of the present.

Take care.

It’s constantly on everyone’s mind. The reminders are relentless. The coronavirus pandemic. It is ubiquitous. The media reports are continuous. The all-consuming topic of conversation.

These are difficult and stressful times. Everyone is feeling the strain. I am reminded that I must make an extra effort to mind my mental health. Everyone must.

In recent weeks, all elective surgery has been cancelled in the hospital where I normally work. The theatres lie idle. I was temporarily idle too. But I was keen to be active in the fight against coronavirus so I enquired about being redeployed. It didn’t take too long for someone to take me up on my offer to help. This week I was appointed to a maternity hospital in Dublin and I will be there for the next three months at least.

The hospital staff and fellow colleagues have been very welcoming and I’m enjoying the transition. It’s a challenge and I have had to revise my knowledge of obstetric anaesthesia. It’s 17 years since I set foot in a labour ward but it is all coming back to me and I’ve shed the initial anxiety I had when starting last week.

My mood has been a little elated for the last few months. I was high in February. Not badly but enough to interfere with my sleep. It settled mid-March but I find myself waking early again this past week. I think a certain amount of it is normal. I believe is a reaction to the excitement of a new job and new environment.

Despite the mild hypomania, my mood is good. If anything I’m a bit too chirpy. But I am also feeling energetic and productive. Life is easy. I was initially quite worried and even scared about the impact of the Covid 19 outbreak but now it doesn’t bother me. I think I’m desensitised to it.

I had a little bit of bad news lately. I had a persistent pain in my jaw for months and it was getting worse. To make a long story short, I was referred to a pain specialist and diagnosed with Trigeminal Neuralgia. I’m on treatment for it now but I’m still uncomfortable. Hopefully it will settle.

I’ve been keeping in touch with my Buddhist friends. The Buddhist Centre offers a range of online events. It takes a little getting used to but it’s a great way to stay connected. I’m not meditating as much as I used to, or should, but I really haven’t had the time. I must address that in the coming days.

My family are good. My wife is very busy but keeping well. The paperwork related to our foster son came through and now it’s official. He is part of the family. He seems to have settled in nicely. Thank heavens (even though I don’t believe in it) he came to us before the pandemic. It doesn’t bear thinking about how he would have managed otherwise.

My other son who suffers from depression is feeling better. His medication seems to have kicked in and he has regular psychotherapy sessions. It seems to be working. Enforced isolation apparently suits him.

Considering we are all restricted during this period of lock down, everyone is doing okay. Spirits are high and we are all pulling together. My older sons are even taking turns at preparing dinner for the family and in truth, their cooking skills are quite good.

Like everyone else I miss the freedom to do what I like but under the circumstances, we are coping.

It’s an interesting time and I think that the months ahead will test us all. Stay safe, stay home. Here’s hoping I will meet you all on the other side. Xxx