With Christmas looming I’m entering my now customary period of
reflection at this time of year. I neither love nor hate the season of
goodwill, but it does trigger poignant memories of Mandy’s love for it –
she used to start preparing for it in February, buying presents,
updating her Christmas card list and choosing new decorations for the
house and festive tree. I don’t have any enthusiasm for all that these
days, and Christmas is just something that happens to other people now.

At this time of year I do miss the elevation of mood that her excitement
induced, and I get to thinking a seasonal high might be pleasant. I’ve
always considered myself very lucky that I have a regime of medication
that works well for me most of the time in the absence of too much
stress, and I find myself in the paradoxical situation where I can get
high by taking fewer drugs, risperidone in my case – but it’s a
complicated process – if I drop the dose too much I run the risk of
waking up the voices and getting hallucinations/delusions, so it’s not
something I do often or without careful consideration. It’s even
trickier now I’m on my own, as when Mandy was here she could give me a
gentle nudge if things got out of hand, which adds another complication
to the scenario. Still, it gives me something to think about, which in
itself is helpful.

While it’s true that no one in their right mind would wish for mental
illness, for me some aspects of it are very acceptable – feeling elated
and confident, enjoying mind bending flights of imagination and having
endless energy have a lot going for them. It’s a very tempting notion at
this time of year when I feel like the world’s split into two distinct
groups, the first one containing everybody in the world except me, and
the other one containing me. Sometimes I spend so long thinking about
whether or not to take the plunge that the original urge to do it has
passed, and so the decision makes itself. I’ll just have to wait and
see...