Talking of Bipolar Disorder

Into A Pearl by the esteemed Justin Currie reminds me of what it’s like to live with bipolar disorder.  It’s not likely the inspiration for his song, but it really struck me.  The aspect of a ‘stranger in your world’ that ‘only you can smother’ speaks to me.  Justin is by far my favourite singer.  The front man of Del Amitri (my favourite band), he has a flawless solo career.  I’ve had the pleasure of seeing him twice in concert and would follow him all over the world if I could.  I never tire of hearing him.  Anyway, give the song a listen.  You might just relate to it, as well.


I Just Feel It

‘In My Life’ is my absolute favourite Beatles song.  It has a ‘looking back’ undertone, but it’s also hopeful.  It’s recognising that, although you’ll always look back at people you loved and lost, you’ll also move forward.  My sister had a habit of putting on really bizarre sunglasses, making a peace sign with her hands, and saying ‘I feel it.  I just feel it.’ when she related to a song.  That was hysterical coming from a child who hadn’t reached the double digits in age.  I’ll have to agree with her just this once, though.  When it comes to the song ‘In My Life,’ I feel it.  I just feel it.  🙂

There are places I remember all my life

Though some have changed

Some forever not for better

Some have gone

And some remain

All these places had their moments

With lovers and friends

I still can recall

Some are dead and some are living

In my life I’ve loved them all

Justin Currie News

I was thrilled to find that Justin Currie has released a second solo CD, ‘The Great War.’  After having listened to the samples on Amazon, a unanimous verdict was reached:  We must have this CD.  🙂  Granted, I’m incredibly biased in that there are only three Del Amitri songs that I don’t actually like, and I’ve listened to Justin’s first solo CD (‘What Is Love For’) far too many times. From the samples I’ve heard and from previous knowledge of this truly gifted artist’s work, I *highly* recommend this disc.  (His being ridiculously handsome is a bonus.)  🙂

You can find more information on Currie’s website:

On the Outside

I’ve been thinking a great deal about the ‘technical’ aspects of SRA lately.  The what is done and how it’s done bit.  Programming is *incredibly* sophisticated, and I don’t really want to go into that at the moment.  I do, however, want to recommend a song: ‘When I’m Gone’ by 3 Doors Down.  Driving to school a few weeks ago, I heard this song for this first time in years.  The first two lines struck at the centre of me.  So much stays locked up inside SRA survivors, even to those closest to us.  In talking with my closest friends, I avoid certain areas.  No one will benefit from hearing the more grisly aspects of life inside a satanic cult.  I’ve always tried to express what talking with ‘outsiders’ about SRA feels like.  That protective hesitance.  These lines from ‘When I’m Gone’ express it perfectly.

There’s another world inside of me that you may never see.

There’s secrets in this life that I can’t hide.

The whole song expresses quite well the things I could never say.  I’ve been trying to put into words what it’s like to separate the emotion (as much as possible) from the business of SRA, for lack of better terms.  That’s how it’s done inside cults.  I had to suppress emotions, sometimes as a means for survival, and carry through with things.  In the early years, thinking about my younger sister got me through.  There were so many times when we were separated, and I was terrified of what might have been happening to her.  If this song had been out all those years ago, I’d have told her to sing it to herself.  The chorus is exactly what I’d want to say to her.  I wanted to tell her she could keep her faith in me, even when I wasn’t around.  I wanted her to know I’d always be the something stable she could hold on to.  Still, she got me through so much– I *had* to get through in order to get her through.  In that sense, we saved each other.  I was never able to let her know just how strong and powerful she was, even as a small child.  She was my motivation and the strength I needed to get through some of the darkest times in my life.  She was amazing.

Anyway, the song ‘When I’m Gone’ is performed by 3 Doors Down, from their 2002 album ‘Away from the Sun.’  It was written by Brad Arnold.  Click here to listen to the song.

There’s another world inside of me

That you may never see

There’s secrets in this life that I can’t hide

Somewhere in this darkness

There’s a light that I can’t find

Maybe it’s too far away

Or maybe I’m just blind

Maybe I’m just blind…


So hold me when I’m here

Right me when I’m wrong

You can hold me when I’m scared

And love me when I’m gone

Everything I am

And everything in me

Wants to be the one

You wanted me to be

I’ll never let you down

Even if I could

I’d give up everything

If only for your good

So hold me when I’m here

Right me when I’m wrong

You can hold me when I’m scared

You won’t always be there

So love me when I’m gone

Love me when I’m gone…


When your education x-ray

Cannot see under my skin

I won’t tell you a damn thing

That I could not tell my friends

Roaming through this darkness

I’m alive but I’m alone

Part of me is fighting this

But part of me is gone…


Love me when I’m gone

When I’m gone

When I’m gone

When I’m gone…

An Unexpected Shock

Here I am this morning, minding my own business and listing to the digital broadcast of Radio 2, when something horrible happens– I hear the not-so-mellifluous tones of one Taylor Swift.  I’ll admit that, even though American radio has so much more variety, I prefer BBC Radio (specifically 2).  Hearing that particular singer, then, was quite a shock.  Radio 2 usually plays *good* music.

Mind you, my computer is still regularly churning out the broadcast, and as always, it’s nice to hear.  Just skip the American teen pop next time, please!


Yesterday was a bit difficult, and as I’ve said many times, music gets me through sometimes.  One of the most peaceful and inspirational songs I’ve ever heard is Colin Hay’s ‘Waiting for My Real Life to Begin,’ so I wanted to post it here in hopes that someone else might be comforted by it as well. Click here to view the excellent YouTube video made by MadTija.

I’ve been thinking quite alot about a past love and the peace he brought to my life, so the chorus says loads about how I’m feeling right now:

And you said, ‘Be still my love

Open up your heart

Let the light shine in’

Don’t you understand?

I already have a plan

I’m waiting for my real life to begin

We’re All in This Together

I have been *angry* lately.  Not that frustrated sort of anger that goes away quickly.  The kind that makes you feel like you’ve got something volcanic deep inside that might erupt at any moment.  I’m irritated and quick-tempered, and none of this is like me at all.  It’s only been a few years since I’ve even been able to recognise the emotion of anger in the first place.  For the past couple of weeks, though, it seems like absolutely everything has been getting right up my nose.  My official diagnosis is Bipolar I Disorder, and while I doubted that for quite some time, I’m seeing more and more why the psychiatrist chose that lovely little illness for me.

Comordbidity and DID is an interesting question.  I have abandonment issues, which is something I only recently learnt.  That is a sign of several personality disorders, as are anger issues.  Borderline Personality Disorder doesn’t quite fit– I’m priviledged enough to keep these moods for weeks as opposed to days.  Even though I can have an incredibly flat affect, schizophrenia doesn’t fit.  We *know* why I hear those voices.

What *is* difficult is distinguishing my feelings from those of individuals inside, finding who and how many are feeling the mood we’re dealing with, or just seeing that I’m generally grouchy at the moment, all on my own.  Lily frequently bruises my arms because she is so much smaller than me and sometimes doesn’t realise where my arm stops.  She goes full-force toward something on a shelf and only stops when she bangs my wrist– her arm had quite alot left to go before she could reach things.  I feel that way in an emotional sense.  Sometimes I can’t tell where my emotions stop and the dissociated emotions start.  Yes, as I’ve agreed with before, the alters are all me.  In the end, I understand that they are not separate people.  For now, however, they do hold their own emotions and experience their own moods.  It’s just difficult, sometimes, to figure out where a given emotion is coming from and take care of it before things spin out of control.

Music helps.  When I get so angry and tense that I feel as if I’m going to rip apart, certain songs can bring me back to centre.  Try ‘Red Rubber Ball’ by the somewhat obscure American 1960’s pop group The Cyrkle (that’s not a spelling error).  The imagery typically calms me down:

I think it’s gonna be all right.

Yeah, the worst is over now.

The morning sun is shining like a red rubber ball.

New Page

For those of you who read the blog via RSS or mail programmes, I wanted to let you know I’ve added a page on song recommendations, called, appropriately ‘Song Recommendations’.  It’s at the top of the homepage and will be added to probably more often than one would think.  That’s another thing about DID– millions of opinions on the same subject.  🙂

The Boxer

Excellent song by Simon and Garfunkel that I relate to in an odd way.  It’s not exactly my story, but so much of it resonates with me.

There are days when I just feel tired.  Not in the sense that I didn’t get enough sleep, but in the sense that the weight of my past settles on me and I feel unable to stand with that weight on my shoulders.  It’s hard to explain, but I’m guessing many of the trauma survivors who read this will know exactly what I mean.

‘The Boxer’ talks about someone who leaves home early and survives the streets on his own.  The last few lines are what I relate to so well, and again, I’m sure this will resonate with other trauma survivors as well:

In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade,

And he carries the reminders of ev’ry glove that laid him down

Or cut him till he cried out in his anger and his shame

‘I am leaving, I am leaving.’

But the fighter still remains

Regardless of the trauma, people have an innate sense of survival.  Even if we have to back out sometimes or take routes we don’t exactly want to take, the fighters within us still remain.