A Day in the Life

So here it is, Merry Christmas, everybody's having fun. Or are they? It's obvious that Christmas, amidst all the mindless materialism and wanton celebration, can be a difficult time for many of us. Imparticular those who experience mental ill health. So, I'd just like to say in this very short blog a very Merry Christmas to all at Mindbloggling, particularly those who have taken the time to read and comment on my blog. I know that for many of us, including myself, social isolation can be a big problem, but it is always nice to know that there are some of us out there who can share our experiences and communicate in this way. I truly believe that this can make our lives a little bit more enjoyable and I have certainly enjoyed being a part of mindbloggling. So, for at least this year, that may be all from your average delusional and paranoid man. Oh, please don't be too sad, after all there's always next year and who knows what that might bring. Or, as my old aunt use

I've been thinking alot recently about how, when we are ill, we are often told by counsellors to concentrate on living in the present- not to get bogged down ruminating about the past or the future. The thing is, one of my passions is reading literature, and literature seems to take a very different view of this. Indeed, it seems to tell us of the need to remember, both in historical and personal terms. The starkest statement about this I found in Jed Rubenfeld's book "The Interpretation of Murder" where, in the very first chapter it states: " There is no mystery to happiness. Unhappy men are all alike. Some wound they suffered long ago, some wish denied, some blow to pride, some kindling spark of love put out by scorn- or even worse, indifference- cleaves to them, or they to it, and so they live each day within a shroud of yesterdays. The happy man does not look back. He doesn't look ahead. He lives in the present. But there's the rub. The present can ne

Firstly, thanks for your comments once again. The number of them seems to be going down, but I don't take that as any measure of my popularity. I'm just glad that some of you are taking the time to read my blog. And maybe I just have to write more interesting ones! Anyway, having worked some time now (voluntarily) for MAGMH, I would just like to comment on some of the outlandish opinions one comes into contact with when having to deal with the prejudice that surrounds mental ill health. Most recently we have been writing letters in response to the building of a new psychiatric hospital in Cobridge. In the end, I had to write a letter about the residents' responses to this, simply because they were so prejudiced and ignorant. To use a few examples, one resident said, "I'm not happy. It would be a dumping ground. People would be wandering the streets." Another said, "I think it's a good idea to put it (the building) to use, but if its people with menatl

Firstly, thanks again for your comments on my blog. I certainly hope that you will keep on sending them and I have tried to make as many comments of my own as I can for the time being. As for this new post, I have decided to talk about my absolute worship of Johnny Cash. For those of you who don'k know, Johnny Cash was a country singer who died at a grand old age very recently (only a few years ago) and left behind him some of the greatest songs and lyrics ever written. It was not only his songs, but also his life that was an inspiration to me and many more. I suppose many of you will have seen the film "Walk the Line", which was his biopic. What enthralled me about Cash was his own personal demise into drugs and drink, which seemed to be echoed in his songs. To a large degree his songs were about sin and redemption, and perhaps, given his situation, his own. For while John was wiggling his hips like Elvis he was also dowining drink and amphetamines and being extremely

Sorry about this, but it has been ages since my last blog. All the same, thanks once again for all your kind comments. I can decidedly say that receiving your comments makes blogging worth while and if I were more sane I should definitely do it more often! Amyway, this time I was going to talk about something that has perhaps affected all of us at some stage during our illnesses, and that is the sometimes very subtle ways in which you can find yourself being bullied into doing things you are either too ill or simply don't want, to do. This can be quite a sensitive area to talk about, because parhaps we have all needed encouragement or motivation to get out of the house and start doing things for ourselves. That form of mild encouragement and genuine help is something I don't mind, it is just when people start suggesting more outlandish things, such as climbing up 500 ft. rock faces or jumping off bridges attached to a piece of elastic that I begin to get worried. Why should I

Firstly, I would like to thank you all for your comments on my last blog and for taking the time to make me feel welcome to mindblogging. I'm not sure whether I will have time to reply to you all, but I am sure at some point you will find me floating around, making comments on your own blogs. It has been a couple of weeks now since I wrote my last blog and once again I am finding that medication is still something of an issue. For me, it seems, that when I am taking my medication I feel alot less creative than I normally would. I don't know why this is, but I am told that meds like mine affect the levels of dopamine in your brain and apparently, dopamine is known to exist at higher levels in the brains of those regarded as being creative. This may have something to do with it, but I'm not a scientist so don't take my word for it! Anyway, before my days on medication I actually became quite good at writing poetry and even had a book published. Yes, that's right, you

Hello! My name is David and this is my very first blog! Like most of you who use mindblogging I have a long-standing mental health problem and like most of you, I suppose, I just try my best to survive and get the most out of life despite the condition of my health. Occasionally, though, things or issues seem to arise which really bother me. For instance, recently I have been very bothered about the side-effects of my medication. Since I have started taking it I have put on seven stones in weight and have become seriously unfit. As a result my psychiatrist tells me I run the risk of developing diabetes, or worse could develop serious problems with my heart. Indeed she seemed to suggest that more and more people like me are actually dying due to taking anti-psychotic medication, putting on loads of weight, and then keeling over due to heart disease. The only option I seem to have is to just take a different type of medication, but the thing is that the majority of them have the same sid