'I Say, I Say, I Say.' By Simon Armitage.

I realize that I haven't posted anything on here for a while and I will write about the reasons for that at a later date - apologies!

For the moment I just want to share with you some work I've been doing recently in relation to my English Coursework.

For our coursework we are required to write a piece of recreative text. This is where you take a stimulus material (it can be a picture, song lyrics, poem, another piece of text, anything) and you have to write a piece of creative writing based on your stimulus material.
Whilst struggling through various poems contained in our 2012 Anthology I discovered a poet I actually liked! Which is unusual for me because I am not one for being soppy or liking the rhyming, musical, lovey type poems! This poet however had a very different style to any I had really read before, he wrote mainly in a contemporary style but his individual views and style of writing added depth to his poetry.

Simon Armitage.

I found several poems I liked by him. The main three being 'Knowing What We Know Now', 'Give' and 'I Say, I Say, I Say'.
'Knowing What We Know Now' (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kkJh9lIUUPc) is fun and made me laugh but at the same time it also clearly demonstrates that there are some very selfless and also very selfish people in this world. It just amazes me how he can incorporate such a heartfelt message into such a fun piece of writing.

'Give' is the poem I will actually do my coursework with next year - due to the requirement of stimulus being very specific! It is ambiguous, it could be read simply as a ballad, a love poem. But on further analysis it's obvious to see the links it has with homelessness and each line has clever meanings that can be read into in many different ways depending on interpretation.
I may post the poem and my recreative text based on it in the future, or if you want to see it.

'I Say I Say I Say.' Is the poem I'm going to post now, I'm not really going to say anything about it, apart from it is intense and I make no apologies for that. It's real life - as many of you, I'm sure, will be able to relate to.

The poem is as follows:
Anyone here had a go at themselves
for a laugh? Anyone opened their wrists
with a blade in the bath? Those in the dark
at the back, listen hard. Those at the front
in the know, those of us who have, hands up,
let's show that inch of lacerated skin
between the forearm and the fist. Let's tell it
like it is: strong drink, a crimson tidemark
round the tub, a yard of lint, white towels
washed a dozen times, still pink. Tough luck.
A passion then for watches, bangles, cuffs.
A likely story: you were lashed by brambles
picking berries from the woods. Come clean, come good,
repeat with me the punch line 'Just like blood'
when those at the back rush forward to say
how a little love goes a long long long way. 

My recreative piece of text is this:

The chilling blade was a sharp contrast to the boiling water that filled the bath and seared against my pale, chalky skin. I looked down at myself in disgust - my mutilated wrists, coated from hand to elbow with the fading scars that, in many ways, would never fade. Even those that were now no more than faint white lines, ghosts of my past demons, they would never fade. Those that no longer needed hiding, those that could be easily talked away with fabricated stories of my clumsiness, they will never fade. In my eyes not one of them will ever truly fade. Each will bring back its own haunting memories, the memories I just cannot hide from, no matter how hard I try.

My leg flung forward abruptly and violently kicked the glass that was balancing on the end of the bath, where it always stands, unmoving. My rock. Despite knowing it was the anger deep inside of me that fuelled my movement, the noise of the smashing glass and the spray of a mixture of scalding bath water and cold, strong alcohol splashing onto me made me flinch with shock. The freezing blade almost slipped from my grasp but my hand automatically tightened around it. The tiniest of breaths escaped my lips as I felt the cool, sharp edge of the small razor blade scrape a shallow graze across the palm of my hand.

A single drop of blood fell. I watched as it, seemingly in slow motion, descended in a graceful fashion to merge with the hot water. It made me smile. And my smile made me sick. How wrong am I? How twisted?

I slowly and carefully lowered the shining blade down onto the edge of the bath and cupped some of the hot water in my hand, letting it cascade over my sliced right hand.

I had thought, a very long time ago, that I would become numb to the feeling over time, numb to the pain, but as I felt the sting in my hand I realized yet again how vain that hope had been. After all, that was the whole point, was it not? Pain. I watched the water, now tinged with my bright blood, slither down my arm like a menacing snake to join the main body of bath water.

I sighed and with my now free hands began to reluctantly unfasten the bracelets and bangles that hid my wrists from prying eyes. Sleeves were good too, of course. But after countless times of absentmindedly rolling my sleeves up and hearing the whispered snide remarks I'd grown sick of the abuse. From people that should know better as well. Was the topic of their snide remarks and cruel comments not adequate proof that I abused myself enough without them doing it for me? Was it not enough to make them think that maybe a little love would go a long long long way? Just as a little hate does...
At least the pretty bracelets distracted slightly from the angry red lines that crisscrossed in hideous patterns across my skin and at least the charming bangles offered a welcome change from the not so charming rest of me.

The metal of the tantalizing blade was still surprisingly cold as I scooped it back up off the side of the tub. The tears sprang to my eyes even before my hand moved the shard of metal anywhere near my forearm and I screwed my eyes closed tight against the hot, prickly tears. I felt myself press the cold metal to my skin and I held it there for a second, contemplating whether I still had the strength to butcher myself like this. I reminded myself of what this really was, it was a way to stop the pain. Nothing more.

“Don't be stupid.” I scolded myself in a voice that was barely more than a pained whisper before I dug the icy blade deep into my skin.

I gasped in agony, feeling the warm, sticky blood seep freely from the wound and trickle down my arm. I could hear it dripping rapidly, adding volume and colour to the water. I opened my eyes, hot tears blurring my view. I could still distinctly see the colour of the water changing from the clear, clean transparent to a bright crimson as my warm blood infused with the warmer water. I plunged my arm under the water and closed my eyes tightly again against the intense searing pain of the laceration in my arm being exposed to the blistering heat of the liquid.

My make up, my ironically pointless make up. Carefully applied to make me someone I'm not, to make me appear to be perfect. I'm not. No one is. Now however, eventually, my make up reflects who I really am, as it is washed into a clown-like mess by the tears streaming down my face. I smiled bitterly.

At least my tears were no longer tears of self hatred, or anger, or sadness... They were simply tears of pain. The best kind of tears.

Through my blurred vision and the fiery pain of my wrist I glared at the pile of towels, once pearly white. Now, a faded, murky pink colour, forever stained with my blood. Mocking me - as if the pain, the suffering, the everlasting scars etched deep into my skin weren't enough of a reminder. Why didn't I buy red towels? Or black? Anything but white.

Annoyed I let the blade out of my grasp and watched it, mesmerised, as it slowly sank to the bottom of the scarlet liquid in the tub.

Write soon... Peace :):

Opening Up About Bipolar.

Told you I'd blog soon! You didn't believe me did you? Don't blame you to be honest.. But here I am! Blogging! (Whoop!!)
Anyway.. I'm talking about opening up about Bipolar, or any mental health disorder, or even any disorder. As you may (or may not) know I follow the "Time to change" campaign. I've mentioned it before and the link for their website is in some of my blog entries and on my page (I think!). It's a campaign that encourages people to fight the taboo that surrounds mental health and talk about there experiences. But, as I'm sure you know, talking can be hard. Really hard.
Maybe talking comes easy for you? But for me anyway it's not. I'm not much of a talker about personal things - people I care about, my family, my past, etc. And being bipolar fits perfectly into my category of things not to talk about.
So at first I decided to tell no one, absolutely no one. But I'm also a terrible liar.. So unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your view) my best friend could tell there was something wrong and I couldn't lie to him. It took a long time, and a lot of patient prying and encouragement from him to finally find the words to tell him. But I did, despite being truly terrified of how he would react. (I'd like to say at this point that he is an amazing person and I knew I needn't have worried but I am a little paranoid and don't trust easily, which is the only reason I worried. Completey due to my own flaws and not, in any way, his fault.) Anyway, his reaction was far better than I ever could have imagined. He didn't really know that much about it but he was so, unbelievably willing to find out all about it and be there to support me through it all. He offered to come to doctors appointments with me and anything else I needed, he was a true friend, and still is. I'm not going to lie and say he's not left my side since, he has. He's let me down, and I've let him down. But we're human, and we're there for each other.
On the other end of the good/bad reaction scale you have a friend that I recently told of my disorder. We were on a school trip to Spain and the drama I'd hoped to leave behind in England had definitely not been left behind. Things took place on the first night that I need no go into. The second night the rooms got mixed up a bit as we changed hotels. So there was just 3 of us in the room rather that the 6 there had been in the room on the first night. I was having a hard time and was really tired from lack of sleep on the first night. It was already like 11pm and I was trying to get some sleep when this girl (my friend?) started talking to me, and not in a very nice tone. What she said was very long winded, very repetitive, rather harsh an rather rude, so I'll not repeat it. But the jist of what she said was that she had come to Spain to get away from all the shit and that it was unfair of me to be upset because I was making everyone else miserable and I was on holiday so I should enjoy myself. I'll admit that my first thought was to tell her to go away (not in those words!). But I decided getting annoyed wasn't worth it so I kept calm and tried to explain to her that I didn't want to be unhappy and I'd tried to be by myself a lot that day because I didn't want to make anyone else unhappy (in my head having a negative effect on other people is by far the worst part of being bipolar). But for some reason my carefully worded and calm explanation just seemed to annoy her more. Her next words, again, I will not repeat an nor will I tell you what she said to me. I will tell you though that I don't think I've ever been so angry, I honestly don't know how I stopped myself from getting up and hitting her. But I did, and instead I told her that she didn't understand. She told me she did understand. Her mum suffers from depression and it's sickening to watch attention seekers like me pretend like they do. I'd had enough by then, attention seeking is the last thing that I am. And fear that people would think that if I opened up about being bipolar is one of the main things that has stopped me from talking about it. So I told her about it, and regretted it straight away. She told me I was pathetic and left. She only slept in our room one night the whole holiday and that was only because she was forced to and she never said a word.
On a brighter note the other girl in the room, a girl in the year below who I'd seen around but never spoken to until the trip was unbelievably nice and supportive about the whole thing. She gave me a little time by myself then came out to talk to me. She knew exactly what to say and exactly when to keep quiet or point out the gnome on the mini golf course that we had to go and say hello to before breakfast the next morning.
So they were the worst and best reactions I've had. There's been some inbetween reactions too, and they're weird really. Not knowing whether people care or have forgotten or what. It's not hard, just weird not knowing if you can talk to them about it or whether they think you're crazy or what. I'd rather someone tell me they think I'm crazy rather than just trying  to avoid me or something.

That's all I've got to say really.. I'd like to heare your experiences though! How have your friends or family reacted? Or have you.no told them? Please share! Or tell me what you think or ask questions or anything!

Peace. :):

Hello Everybody!

I know I haven't blogged in ages, shoot me! No seriously, shoot me!
Anyway, apologies for the huge gap between this post and the last, I've been having a pretty crappy time. There's loads of half written posts from various points over the last months which are far to painful for me to even read a few lines into, let alone finish and publish.
I hope to try and write a post about people's views on bipolar, and how they differ right from one end of the scale to the other, in the next few weeks. So keep reading, please, I'll try and be better about blogging more.

Take care! :):

Daily Mail

Hey guys! My computer's been broken for a bit.. but now we're back up and running thought I'd stop by and say hi!! And also have a bit of a grumble..

Aren't you so pleased? :P

So this grumble is generally aimed at the Daily Mail, and the media in general I suppose.
So for those of you who aren't aware, as I realize many of you won't be, The Daily Mail is a large, nation newspaper in the UK.

I came across an article they'd published on their online news page about the stigma towards Mental Health Disorders. I started reading in good faith, thinking how good it was that a national newspaper was aware of, and acting upon, the false stigmas surrounding Mental Health Disorders. However as I read further, it became apparent that if they were trying to beat the stigmas they were doing a truly awful job. In fact, it sounded as though the writer of the article agreed with the stigmas and were trying to reinforce them on the nation, rather than trying to eliminate them.

Here is a link to the article which, despite objections from various organisations, is still publish on their website - http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2055716/Breaking-mental-health-taboo.html#ixzz1cTN8PgFv

It is entitled "We need to talk about breaking the mental health taboo." This filled me with hope when I first saw it, as I thought that not only did they realize there were people suffering from Mental Health Disorders, they also realized a way of helping was stopping the taboo and making more people willing to talk and listen about it.

But as I read further into the article, it appears that the writer, too, paints people who suffer from Mental health Disorders with the same stigmas that many others do. It also seems as though the writer is more concerned with the cost for care of people with Mental Health Disorders.

The pictures that they have chosen to go with the article also trouble me.. They seem to be painting those with Mental Health Disorders as abnormal, far from the real world, lost in their own minds, and not able to cope.

With phrases like "Yet in many ways the report is optimistic that these problems can be defeated." the article seems to imply that it does not think the problems we face can be defeated. 


The general gist behind the article appears, to me at least, to imply that it costs to much for care of those with Mental Health Disorders, and that they are a danger to society and should not be admitted into community support schemes. 


If they did set off with good intentions to reducing the stigma towards Mental Health Disorders.. they failed, completely and utterly. I don't really know what else to say. I find it pretty hard when there are these stigmas, that are not good, healthy or beneficial That's hard enough, the fact that they exist. But the fact that media is encouraging them..
It's almost sickening..



:):
xo


Read more: http://www.dailymail.co.uk/debate/article-2055716/Breaking-mental-health-taboo.html#ixzz1cZhpd6WW

Bipolar Disorder For Dummies

So I'm gonna start this entry with an apology.. like I seem to start most of my entries with.. so yeah, sorry about that!! So yes.. I'd just like to say sorry to any of you guys that took the time to read my last blog entry because to be honest it was a load of rubbish. The point I was trying to make was there, but unfortunately it was masked by an overwhelming amount of utter crap. So yeah.. that entry will come back some time in the future I'm sure, once I've got it sorted out and written better.

So this is just going to be a very quick entry about Facebook Groups and a book called Bipolar Disorder For Dummies.

So first of all the Facebook groups. I don't know if any of you guys have Facebook.. I do but I know lots of people who don't. Erm so yeah, Facebook and MSN and all this can be really bad for internet bullying and that but there's also some great support things out there as well. There's the 'Time To Talk, Time To Change' group that there are details of in my last blog. They have a Facebook page and their own website.
There's a 'Love is Louder' group on Facebook. It's not really anything to do with Bipolar Disorder but it's great for uniting people and spreading the message that basically love is louder than anything we have to go through, including Bipolar Disorder. So here's a link to that : http://www.facebook.com/joinloveislouder
Also there's a load of Bipolar groups or Bipolar support groups from various places in the world aimed at various groups of people. I've found a couple of good ones but if you just search Bipolar Groups or something at the top of Facebook you'll find lots of good stuff. The one I've most recently joined, and found most helpful, is :http://www.facebook.com/groups/129406780491540/. Now don't be fooled by the lack of people or the newness of the group. The people on there are so willing to help or just have a chat, I felt right at home talking to them straight away. There's such a range of different people as well, and they're all willing to share.
So there are loads of great things out there on the internet if you know where to look, and even if you don't. There's things you'll just stumble upon that will come in very handy.

Now.. 'Bipolar Disorder For Dummies.'
What can I say? It's great for everyone really. It's helped me loads and taught me a lot that I didn't know or thought I knew but actually didn't. It gives real life (or almost real life) stories of what people have gone through. And it's funny as well! It's not like really heavy reading, it's honest, it doesn't paint Bipolar to be something amazing or lovely or anything, but it's not really depressing reading.
It's the type of book that suits everyone, whether you want to read it from cover to cover or just dip into a chapter about a certain aspect of Bipolar Disorder. It's so amazingly great for people that haven't been diagnosed or are unsure what their diagnosis means, or for people that just want to know a bit more. It's got a section aimed at people that are supporting family or friends that have Bipolar and it helpfully draws attention to the parts which you can skip because only really doctors or lawyers would be interested in it. It's a really great book and I would recommend it to anyone :)
I've got a copy in a format that I can e-mail. So if anyone's interested just let me know and I'll get that to you :) I really can't stress how amazing it is and how much I love it. :)

Anyways, that's all I think :)

Time To Talk. Time To Change

So basically this is gonna be a really short entry (hopefully!) just to tell you guys about the "Time To Talk. Time To Change" campaign. It's basically an on going campaign to erase the stigma that seems to follow Mental Health Disorders where ever they go..
As the title suggests it's basically about talking about it!! You guys have been brilliant about talking about it :) And talking about my experiences has been really, really great. Loads of people have been so understanding and like interested! Which really surprised me at first.

So yeah.. hopefully if the links and stuff works.. (I haven't used links before in this blog! :o exciting right?!) hopefully, you lovely people will be able to go straight to the website for "Time to Talk. Time To Change" right... here :
 http://www.time-to-change.org.uk/home

And right here (hopefully) you guys will be able to go straight to a YouTube advert about what "Time To Talk. Time To Change." is all about (!) :
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4tiYbhVBjTk

So have a look around, see what it's all about, follow the campaign on twitter and facebook and all those lovely things :)

Feeling Sleepy?

So.. I wanted to talk about SLEEP.

As we all know, we need sleep, if we didn't get sleep, we would die. End of.

So what about when you just can't get to sleep? What then? I want to know.. what do you guys do? Any wacky before bed rituals?? :)

So my parents say as I child I never slept. When I was a baby I would be waking them up every hour or so, just crying, and wouldn't go back to sleep for ages. Something which I still think they hold against me now.. Unlike my perfect big brother who slept through the whole of the night every night haha. Anyone else have that? A sibling that's perfect in every way?? :P
And then as a kid (well more of a kid than I am now I guess) I used to have horrible nightmares. I can't really remember any of them. But I remember that after a month or so of my parents trying everything they could think of to get me back to sleep or to stop crying at stupid hours in the morning when I'd woke, they just gave up. I'd be crying in the room next to them and there was nothing they could do, so they just left me. And eventually I guess I just grew out of these strange nightmares that frightened me so much.
But lately I've been having nightmares again, mostly based on things that have happened in my life recently, just playing over and over. Like a ghost, ready to haunt me whenever I close my eyes. So yeah, I find it really hard to get to sleep in the first place, I'll often lay in bed for hours before I manage to drift off. Then I'll sleep for like 30 minutes at the very most before I'm woken up by these nightmares. And then I rarely get back to sleep.

So are nightmares common in adolescents and adults?? Well yes, about 50% of people have some kind of sleep problems. Be it sleep talking, nightmares or night terrors.

The sleep talking has reminded me of a rather embarrassing camping trip that happened a few weeks back. I often go on camping weeks/weekends with the dance team I'm with. And about a month ago I went and shared a tent with a lovely lady on our dance team called Helen. Then a couple of weeks ago on another trip, her dad was on the trip too. And me, him and a few other people, including my mam were talking. And somehow we got on to the subject of sleep (:D) and sleep talking. So my mam decides to share with the group of friends that "Oh yes, Emma sleep talks all the time, she keeps us awake when we're camping with all her mutterings." To which Helen's dad replies "Yeah, funny that, out Helen says that too."
So it appears not only do I have terrible dreams, but I also keep people awake with my sleep muttering. I wonder what I mutter about..? :) (One man tent and a tape recorder next time, ey?!)

So about sleep problems.. related to bipolar? I doubt it very much. But what about you guys?
And what can we do about it? A friend suggested to me, listening to music, or the radio. Which is good, it keeps you good company. But I find it keeps my brain working and I get caught up with the music or talk and can't get my head to stop thinking. So what I found, was similar. A sound track called "Rainy Mood". Which is effectively rain, and a bit of thunder. And it has helped me a little, and from what I hear has helped others. It's more affective on men though? D'you think? So that's what I do.. what about you?