Saturday, 6 December 2014

Adieu, Adieu, to you and you and you.

Saying goodbye to psychosis has been a very long journey for me. In so many ways I will never be able to say a final farewell, because if nothing more it will always appear as a page of my medical notes, it will always be a consideration if I have another baby and it will remain in my memory like an ex that I am strangely fond of, yet incredibly thankful I don't have to live with anymore.

I can honestly say there is a part of me that is scared that this psychotic episode was just the first of many I could have, but I also hold a lot of blind faith that this was a one-off. I have to remind myself that not knowing is an integral part of the human condition, the part that we all try to buy, work or plan ourselves out of, but coming to terms with what happened to me and what could happen in the future is about releasing the false security of knowing. Stepping into unknowing is something I continue to do all the time, as a mum, woman, artist, human and former-psychotic, so I suppose I just have to keep on keeping on, to quote my incredible 90 year old amps-in-law.

At the risk of this sounding like an award acceptance speech I'm going to do it anyway. The award for the most thankful victim of postpartum psychosis goes to...ME (the crowd goes wild (not mad) and the other nominees clap me with dead eyed stares (probably due to the quetiapine))

Jane - Your patience, commitment and peace. For listening through my            

          incessant ramblings
Lisa - Your knowledge, diagnosis, support and card that helped when I needed it          
Nanna Dee - Your generosity, open heartedness, vinyl and the little St. Patrick's     
                   day outfit for Albert
Dad - For getting us homeward bound and being there
Mum - For facing demons with me and holding me even when you couldn't
Ellie - Your bravery and strength. Laying wars to rest when the battle was done
Peter - For finding parking in the barren wasteland that is the Chatsworth Road
Gretel - My psychosister. You were the breadcrumbs
Nan & Amps - For your unflinching championing of my recovery and blog
Becky - Rose quartz in human form
Katie - For making it possible to have leave in London and visits that cheered            
          my soul
Clare - To remind me that I had a diva within that needed to hold on
You - For reading, caring and following my journey
Val - next door neighbour with love and care on our return
Maggie & Ronnie - next door neighbours with kindness and flowers on our return
Sarah - For always having encouraging words for me on Facebook when the             
           vulnerability hangover is kicking in
The Careys - I remembered my vocal training even in psychosis. That's how    
                   good it is!
Andrew - A regular Facebook liker and sharer. Thank you.
At the Norwich & Norfolk hospital - There aren't enough words.
At the Margaret Oates Mother and Baby unit - There really aren't.
Sarah W - For making the Fine City even finer and getting my talk to the               
               Lunchtime Lectures at the N&N Hospital
My NCT group - For giving me a reason (and deadline) to get back home
Ruth - For taking a punt and having me speak. You got the ball rolling
Rebecca - For writing the Independent article that gave PP just a bit more                   
Albert - Your grace, calmness and adaptability amaze me
Matt - It was on our wedding day we said our vows, it was though all this that 
         we lived them. I carry them within my heart, which is yours

So, it is adieu, adieu, to you and you and you. This blog will be carrying on, but more like the platform I thought it would be when I first set it up. It will become a "person who happens to be a parent" blog and I have no idea what it will include, but if you're only really into psychotic episodes, this may no longer be the place for you, unless you count having a meltdown over weening a baby with an unsuccessful aubergine, lentil and garamasala dish counts.

Well, here we are then. The end of this chapter. What an incredible journey. It's been awful. 

Love and keep taking the tablets,

Mutha Courage X