To Hell And Back Again-The Writings of a Bi-Polar

Playhouse Productions wins Princes Trust backing

Mon, 07 Jul 2008 19:40:41 +0200

I had my panel hearing with the Princes Trust business startup panel today to discuss my business plan, twenty minutes after I get a call telling me I've won a startup grant of £1500 and a business mentor for three years! So my entertainment company, Playhouse Productions, can finally get going! Look out for info about upcoming events soon, also casting calls.

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Prince's Trust business startup meeting tomorrow-fingers, toes, etc crossed!

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 21:28:39 +0200

Si flippin excited, not to mention nervous-I'm starting a business of my own called Playhouse Productions, with help from the Prince's Trust, who are going to give me £1500 and a business mentor for three years! They have been really supportive and helpful. I'm going to put on burlesque and music events, hold workshops, and and put on pub theatre events. Carlisle is a difficult place to try and introduce anything new, being several decades behind the rest of the country in terms of attitudes, but a challenge is a good thing!

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Story being published!

Sun, 06 Jul 2008 18:55:44 +0200

Hurray! My story 'The End Is Nigh', which is on my blog , is being published by Atlantean Publishing in their 'Garbaj' magazine! Rather bloomin chuffed!

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Footprints

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:33:14 +0200

a soggy trail of footprints

weaves from discarded towel

along saturated linoleum flood plain

after a devastating battle between

rival pirate ships

on the great ocean Bathtubius,

the water dousing the fires of war,

and continues hesitantly

along the green meadow

of Hall Way

leaving faint memories of feet now

as the water is left behind

til the great gate of Bedfordshire

looms up before you

and finally you reach your destination

as you drift away on a starlit breeze

your tender, damp skin carressed

by the gentle night air

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title-4367992

Thu, 26 Jun 2008 17:30:07 +0200

The demons are creeping in and I've had a bloody terrible 24 hours, having missed two job interviews due to being too depressed to leave the house, then having a blazing row with a grumpy, childish, reactionary boyfriend because I borrowed his last blank cd to make my a mix of her favourite songs for her birthday as I've got no money. He decided this was a mortal sin, and screamed abuse at me even though I apologised. It having already been a bad day anyway, I snapped and threw my dinner at him when he called me a slag! This was very out of character for me and I scared myself. Then I spent a couple of hours trying to sleep on a park bench in the early hours, accompanied by my cat who wouldn't leave me on my own and and acted for all the world like a guard dog. Now I'm desperately trying to find somewhere else to live, a friend has offered me the tenancy of her flat but I need to raise the deposit, nigh on mpossible since I have no income whatsoever! Meltdown ahoy...

Moral of the story?-leave a bi-polar sufferer well-alone when they are having a downward mood swing!

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Bi-Polar

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 19:48:07 +0200

From the swirling heights of ecstasy

To the sucking hole of despair

Blackly velvet yet toxic

promising sweet freedom

Giving wind to my wings

Whispering a shining future

Then wrapping me in cold chains

And pinning me to the frozen ground

As I scream silently but forever

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How To Get a Good Social Network Profile Photo

Sun, 22 Jun 2008 18:44:29 +0200

What is the first thing you look at when browsing social networking sites for potential new friends or dates? The photo will usually be the part of the profile that catches your eye first, and just as we, as human beings, tend to judge by appearances first in real life, the same goes when you're networking. First impressions count! So naturally you will want your own profile picture to present you in the best possible light. There are a few practical ways you can make sure you get a good photo, whether you use a professional photographer or a friend with a digital camera:

1) Unless you want your photo to look like a mugshot, it's best not to face straight on to the camera lense, as this doesn't present your features in a very flattering way. Equally, don't look too far to the side, for the same reasons! Sit with your shoulders straight and facing the camera, then choose the best side of your profile (we all have one, unless blessed with perfectly symmetrical features!) and, keeping your chin up, turn your head slightly to the side, keeping shoulders straight and eyes on the camera.

2) Wear a top in a colour that flatters your skin tone and brings out the colour of your eyes-warm skin tones suit muted natural colours like olive green, earthy browns, terracotta. Pale-skinned or blonde people look good in soft pastels, and dark skins can get away with bright, jewel-like shades. If in doubt, black always works in a photograph, and white rarely does. Busy patterns are also a no-no, far too distracting from the main attraction-you! Make sure your top is not a similar colour to the background of the photo, and don't show too much skin.

3) Use an actors' trick and think of something to focus your mind on while the pictures are being taken-your boy/girlfriend, favourite pet, a beautiful sunset. This makes your eyes look 'alive' and animated, which is a lot better than the blank, dazed look caused by staring into the camera flash!

4) Relax! Smile and be yourself. You don't need to pose or put on a serious/seductive/intelligent expression, just be natural and your personality will shine through.

5) Once your photograph has been taken and you've decided which shot you would like to use, there are still a number of steps you can take to improve the picture and present the best you possible. A digital photo-retouching service can really add that extra dash of magic and make your picture stand out amongst the sea of faces on the web. For example, the lighting can be adjusted, to minimise the appearance of blemishes, under-eye shadows, and prevent your skin looking several shades darker than it actually is, a common problem in amateur photography. Red-eye can also be eliminated.

We've all heard of airbrushing, and seen the supermodels in magazines looking impossibly perfect, but air-brushing used in moderation can be a very useful tool. For example, it is often said that the camera adds pounds, and this is, unfortunately, true. Airbrushing can be used to reduce weight so that you look more like the real you. Of course, if you're adventurous you can also use it to increase the appearance of muscle-tone, smooth out fine lines and wrinkles, remove scars, and smooth a bumpy nose!

Another clever function of retouching services is the removal of unwanted background items, and even the replacement of the background with a different colour or fun pattern. You can use this to show your personality, just make sure the colour/pattern doesn't clash with your clothes.

To create a more classic, sophisticated image, retouching services can change an ordinary colour photograph into black and white, or even sepia-tones. This can give a very flattering, elegant effect.

To sum up, put your best face forward, relax and be you, use colour well, don't be afraid to experiment with photo-retouching, and you'll be sure to shine on the web!

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Lost

Sat, 21 Jun 2008 18:47:04 +0200

The sharp greenness juts into the sky
high above me
giving away nothing
no clues
as I crash and tumble along
with the thickly wet scent of earth
filling my questing, quivering nostrils
as I search inisistently
for the warm smell of home
the invisible pathway
that will lead me back
to salty tongue greetings
from the milk provider
too-rough pats from small sticky hands
belly-filler in brown glistening heap
and soft blankety womb of bed.

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Medicine Mystery

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 19:09:20 +0200

Today I had my first meeting with my new community mental health nurse. So it wasn't a good day for feeling like a normal human being! I arrived even more stressed out than I would have already been as I got completely lost and walked miles out of my way before I found the clinic, and so only had half a session left!

There were actually two nurses in the meeting, as one was a student nurse, and the other was supervising her, but the supervisor kept taking over. They were both really nice though, and just treated me like a normal person, which helped. I have discovered that once you are diagnosed with a mental illness you are then doomed to spending your life repeating yourself, answering the same questions over again. At least these two actaully listened though, unlike my GP and psychiatrist, who I've explained to that the anti-depressants don't help, and the nurses agreed with me. They also said that they don't think I should be on the Seroquel as it's mainly an anti-psychotic, and what I really needed was a mood stabilizer. Seroquel does have mood-stabilizing properties but they're obviously not very strong. The thought of taking lithium scares me somewhat though, the side-effects are meant to be pretty heavy....

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Poetry

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 19:02:04 +0200

Poetry

Poetry is
A chapel on a hill
Dark and cool
Undisturbed
Waiting

It’s a still place
The dark silence
Brings your inner stirrings
To the surface

Making you yearn
To light up the darkness
Break the unrelenting hush
With your words

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One Day In September

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:58:30 +0200

I’m squashed against cold, uncompromising concrete, once a wall, floor, or some other part of the body of this tower of babel. My own, broken, pointless body is twisted and pinned, as if it were a poor mutilated butterfly in a collection of countless other sacrificial victims, by a mass of writhing metal.

A sharp finger of this metal must have pierced my skin somewhere, because the hand on my outflung arm can feel hot liquid. Maybe if I can just move my arm-find my face-it’s so dark-yep, there it is-to taste it…. Yeah that’s blood, mine, or somebody else’s…..Hello! Hello…?
(coughs, breathes irregularly)

Oh God I’m so cold, so cold. Must be loss of blood-and it was such a warm day today-Is! Is such a warm day. Somewhere, out there.

To be honest, it’s quite difficult to speak-every time I open my mouth I swallow acrid dust and fumes. It stinks like hell down here…..burning smells, getting worse by the minute, kind of like cooking bacon. Is this the smell of burning flesh? Is this what Auschwitz smelt like? Oh God, I shouldn’t have thought that! I don’t want to burn! Don’t think about it, don’t think about it….

What’s that noise? Can you hear that? A scratching and dragging sound….scratch-drag, scratch-draaaag…it’s coming towards me! Do you think there’s someone else here with me? Someone else alive?! Hello? Hello! Is anybody there? Are you alright?
Hah! What a laugh. What are the chances?

Hello! Can you hear me?

The scratch-drag, scratch-drag is getting faster, it’s starting to freak me out actually-I feel like I’m in a horror movie.

Uh-oh. It’s stopped.

Hellooooo-ooooo?

Nope. Tell you what, I’ll have a feel around, see what I can find. It sounded very close…

(flings arm out as far as possible, gropes around. Abruptly jerks back arm)

UUUURGH! Oh my god, oh my god, this is just not my day.

(shakes hand in disgust, wipes it as best she can. Looks at audience)

Let’s just say whoever he or she was, they are not with us anymore. Neither is his or her’s leg.

Quite relieved actually. I mean, what could I have done? I got enough problems of my own right now.

Let’s face it, I’m almost certainly gonna kick the bucket. I’m getting colder by the minute, I can’t feel the lower half of my body any more, and there must be hundreds of poor sods trapped in this wreckage! It must be absolute mayhem out there. I haven’t got a hope of being rescued. Might as well make my peace with the situation

I knew that was it for me when I saw the first plane hit the other tower. I knew what would happen next. We all did, in that office, standing by the window.

It’s funny; you’d expect more of a reaction-panic, screaming, praying, chaos. But the six of us in that room were still and silent, just staring at each other, like a still from a movie. It was only a few seconds, but something weird happened to time, those seconds lasted for hours. I could hear the commotion outside in the corridor, running and shouting, but it didn’t seem related.

Then time caught up with us, the pause button was released, and I threw myself on the floor. God knows why. But how could any of us know what to do in a situation like that? It’s not like they give you training on your first day.

I can’t remember a lot after that. All I know is, not long after, the whole world shook, and I fell, I fell a long way, like Alice falling down the well, I never seemed to land. Then I did. And hot pain shot through me. So now here we are. Preparing to meet the maker.

(Sudden shock of pain makes her groan and writhe. The pain passes and she relaxes. Starts to sob quietly)

Oh God, why? Why me, why now, why did this happen today? Am I really such a bad person that I deserve to die like this? If I say sorry, if I repent, will you save me from this hell?

I’m sorry! I’m sorry, what I did was wrong, I was selfish, I see that now! But look at me, I’m suffering, I’m paying for my sins now, isn’t that enough? If I’m saved I’ll be paralysed for sure, but I’ll be alive! I’ll still be able to feel the rain on my shoulders, to taste bitter coffee on my lips, to see my little girl’s face.

I’ll be a good mum, from now on, I promise, the best, most wonderful mum in the world. But you’ve got to give me a chance to prove it to you . Please?!

(falls silent, head cocked, listening. Shakes head, defeated)

No answer. Well, what did I expect? A herd of choral angels to descend from heaven and magic me out of here? For time to reserve itself? No use trying to strike a deal with the God. I sold my soul to the Devil long ago.

I gave up my daughter, you see. Disowned her, cast her out onto the wilderness. Well, England, to my sister’s welcoming, self-sacrificing arms. Smug bitch.

Well what was I supposed to do, for god’s sake? It was inconvenient, I was just starting out on a high-flying, super-dooper career, am I supposed to sacrifice all that for a life of unfulfilled drudgery, for a brat that won’t appreciate it?

She’s better off with her auntie and my mother. I mean, yeah, they are a bit strict. Devout Catholics you see. All God this, sin that, church every Sunday. And yeah, mum always was a bit too handy with the belt… but I mean look at me! It never did me any harm, did it?

Oh Christ. What have I done? My beautiful Lilly, my beautiful little girl, what have I done to you? Thrown you away as though you were a piece of rubbish messing up my clean, tidy, stupid life!

I was supposed to meet her at the airport today, you know. My sister brought her over for a holiday, some worthy plan of hers, so I could get to know the child, develop some sort of relationship. I was going to take her shopping, for new dollies, or whatever she’s into.

But I backed out, Said my sister would have to take her out.Look, I had an important meeting at work, it would have looked so unprofessional if I wasn’t there, especially as I’m pushing for promotion.

So? So I sold my baby down the river again. For what? A few extra bucks. A chance to rip off a few more suckers?

Does any of that matter? What is success anyway? Is it money, power, status? I don’t know what any of that means anymore. Maybe success is something else. Maybe we don’t need to believe in money and power, or even in God. So what’s left? Maybe we just need to believe in each other…..

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Number One Hit

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:58:15 +0200

Number One Hit

My soul
Is spinning off
The turntable
My song
Is changing
The melody shifting
The beat banging
Like a happy heart

The old record
Is cracked and scratched
A sad song
At the bottom
Of the charts
To be played no more
As my soul spins away
Into infinity.........

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Soul-Fire

Tue, 17 Jun 2008 18:54:30 +0200

Soul-Fire

Somewhere In this Darkness
There is a light
Ever-burning
Never-dying

It shines for us
All through our crying
Keeping the beasts at bay

And though you may only see
The choking black night
Turn your eyes just once towards the light
And your soul will never die.

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The End

Mon, 16 Jun 2008 22:12:05 +0200

The End Is Nigh

It was a dismal, wet day in early October, and a million students were trudging to lectures. Simon Swott opened the door of his room in Colditz Hall, walked down the neon-lit corridor to the lift and pressed the button. No response. He was jabbing his thumb repeatedly at the button when a door swung silently open at the end of the corridor, wafting out a thick cocktail of stale pizza and sweaty socks.

After a while, Simon Swott realised that a thought was trying to make its way through the morning fog in his head, and he stopped jabbing the button. He was being watched. The atmosphere was taut with tension. Simon turned his head slowly to look at the open door.

Standing there was a black-robed figure holding a gnarled staff, the hood of the robe hiding the figure’s face.

“The lift ain’t working,” stuttered Simon, “and what have you done with my mate Robby, why are you in his room?”

The sinister figure was silent for a minute; although his face wasn’t visible, he seemed taken aback. Eventually he intoned in a hollow voice:

“Your friend is currently comatose in the lavatory. I believe he imbibed too much liquid of an alcoholic nature last night.”
“To answer the question of the lift, it is no longer working because the world is about to end, and material trivialities such a lifts are deemed unnecessary.”

Simon, head still turned, appeared to think long and hard about what he’d just been told. Then he said:

“But I’ve got a lecture at nine.”

“I don’t think you quite understand. Lectures are of no importance anymore. The world is ending, and you are the Chosen One, We are to take you with us to the Higher Realms.”

Simon Swott’s brain seemed to be struggling slightly. It was much too early in the morning for all these revelations.

“I know my biology essay was late, but this is a bit harsh!” he whined.

The black robe was becoming distinctly irritated. The bony fingers holding the staff were clenched.

“You are the Chosen One. You must come with us.” The staff was shaking.

“But why me?” Simon wailed, “I’ve got so much to live for!”

A muffled snigger came from the hood.

“You are considered representative of the human race. We wish to preserve you so that we can recreate humanity at a later date. We recently discovered that some mistakes had been made during the planning stage, so we’re starting again.”

Just as Simon opened his mouth to whine again, the black robe raised the staff. The lift, Colditz Hall and the rest of the world slowly imploded, until it was nothing more than a speck of dust floating aimlessly in space.

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