babblingbandit.me: #bbhospitalstay2013

Saturday, October 5, 2013

The power of hair

On the weekend I wrote about my three favourite ways to distract myself from my depression. There's actually a fourth way I like to shake things up when life feels really shit. This method of depression distraction is so radical at times that I felt it deserved its own post.

As a method of depression distraction, getting a new hairstyle can be a little high risk. Fuck it up and it could make you feel worse. Get it right and, I personally believe, it could be just the ticket to lifting the spirit. Even just a little bit.

Mood reviving isn't the only good reason to get a change in hairstyle. I, for one, have used the ol' cut 'n' colour for a number of different reasons. Here they are:

Making a statement against authority

There have been a number of times when I've made major changes to my barnet in order to make a rebellious statement to the world. But mostly it has been to piss off my parents or to give a big "fuck you" to the private girls' school, and their strict uniform rules, that I attended.

The photos below look pretty tame, but what you can't see under the top layer of hair in many of the pictures is a shaved undercut. These days kids get away with all sorts of hairdos at school but things were different back in the 80s and 90s. We had to wear our hair tied back with a regulation 2.5cm navy blue ribbon if the length of our hair was below the collar of our uniform.

I wrote a post about my past embarrassing hairstyles back in May. For those of you who were lucky enough to miss the shocking photo evidence here it is! I'd hate to deprive you of a laugh at my expense!

The school years: Never been one to shy away from a pair of clippers, scissors or a bottle of hair dye!

The I can't be bothered with my hair phase

I also go through phases where I just cannot be bothered with my hair and I let it grow really long, don't bother getting it coloured (my natural colour is mousy blonde-brown) and just pull it back in a messy bun or a braid. It's that pulling back in hair elastics that I thought was contributing to my headaches (more on that later). I tried getting it chemically straightened thinking it would make for an easy to manage style but the straightening effect didn't last long at all.

My long natural coloured hair

The everybody else is doing it so I am too phase

Pink, purple, orange, blue, green, yellow - any colour you can think of really. Permanent colour, semi permanent, hair chalk! Crazy hair colours have been all the rage for quite a while now. Earlier this year I decided I wanted to go pink!

Clockwise from top left: The photo I showed the hairdresser to illustrate how I wanted my hair done;
how my hair actually turned out; big smiles as the dye goes on; worried look as reality hits; posing for the hairdresser;
Bubblegum Princess from Adventure Time; a forced smile at home as I realise I look a bit like a cartoon character.

Argh! I just lost a whole stack of work I'd done on this post when Blogger showed an error message and I stupidly closed the browser without doing a copy/paste of what I'd already written into Word. The paragraph lost was basically about how upset I was at spending 5.5 hours and nearly $400 at a hair salon recommended by the biggest hair blogger in Australia only to walk out of the place with a completely different 'do than the one in the picture that I showed the stylist.

The pink did fade. I washed my hair nine times in three days desperately scrubbing out the dye that was going everywhere: on my pillowcase, clothes, towels. And when it actually got to a colour that I liked that only lasted a couple of weeks, but it never looked like the style I asked for.

Getting back to 'normal' phase

After a while the ends, that had been bleached to create that balayage effect, became so straw like that I had to get them cut off. I ended up going to a different hairdresser to get the good old half head of foils in order to restore any semblance of a decent hairdo.

From pink to blonde

Let's go crazy!

My most recent hairstyle change is probably the most crazy. Ever. From long blonde highlighted hair to short white hair with a few greeny blue streaks chucked in for good measure I sure have made a statement this time. Like I said earlier, I've never been scared to make radical changes to my hair. In fact I get a bit of a buzz (no pun intended - ok maybe a little) out of it.

Hair today, gone tomorrow

There's more to the change in style than trying to cultivate a new look. I have been having headaches that start around my scalp and shoot down through my head nearly every day for the past two or three years. I wrote about these headaches recently when I listed all the symptoms that have landed me here back in hospital. I also talked about my headaches when they seemed to disappear after I went 40 days without eating any sugar.

The pain always gave me this overwhelming desire to shave my head. As if my long, thick and heavy hair was to blame for the pain that's had me popping painkillers like lollies for years. Whether I had my hair back in a hair elastic or out falling down my back, my scalp still ached. Then last week, when I was readmitted to this psych hospital I've now been an inpatient at four times over the last five years, I decided: fuck it! The hair is going.

Have I been cured of my headaches? No. They are still there, messing with me physically and psychologically.

Do I feel refreshed from having a completely new look? Yes. I love that I have an actually 'style'. That I don't just wake up in the morning, throw my head forward, gather up my masses of hair and scrunch it into a hair-band. I love washing my locks everyday. Oh, the freshness of it all!

The moral of the story? Hair is fun, can make a statement, but cutting it all off won't necessarily cure you of chronic headaches.

Maybe I need to start thinking about cutting back on sugar again. Bugger.

Are you a person who likes to change hairstyles with your mood or
do you stick to the same trusty hairdo year after year?

Tuesday, August 13, 2013

Putting the pieces of me back together

Saturday 10 August 2013

So I don't know what to write or even why I should but my fingers are so shaky it just feels like they need to be doing something. How many times can I tidy up my room? I could go for a walk on this beautiful sunny day but my legs aren't shakey, its my hands and my wrists. They need some action. My brain is a little hesitant though. The meds are making it difficult for me to write coherently but I'll do my best anyway.

I've been in hospital for just over a week now. I still feel really weird being here even though I've been here before so the surroundings are not new. My meds are changing all the time which causes all manner of confusion. The first couple of days I was in I just slept. I was admitted on the Friday and weekends are really quiet in psych hospitals. No group therapy just time and lots of it.

The kids were kind enough to pass on their cold to me (sarcasm) so spending the first couple of days sleeping on off without too much disruption didn't bother me at all. I do feel so guilty about what impact my breakdown has on my family. Everyone of us has had to shift around responsibilities in order to make it work for me to be here to sort out why mood has become so erratic.

Noo has moved in with my sister Yolanda, her husband and little Mala. Yo and Cal's family has grown from three to four over night and Noo is living in a "normal" family unit for the first time. There are rules and routines at Rancho Relaxo and I've heard that Noo is responding really well to the new regime.

Routine reigns here in hospital as well and I really like not having to think about what comes next in the day. There's no one really to pester me about what we are going to do today, when can we do it... all those questions kids ask all the time. I want. I need. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Ad nauseum.

Still I've cried a lot in here. The different meds, the different surroundings, sights and sounds all add to the whirley burley going on in my mind. I'm shaky then agitated then bawling my eyes out. Sometimes I feel like I can sleep forever, others I feel like I could run a mile.

I miss my boy so much. The umbilical cord has remained firmly attached for so long that not being with him for such a long time is so difficult yet this break is just what I have needed. I have to keep reminding myself that I'm doing this not just for myself but for him. I was not being a great mum before I got to this point where I find myself an inpatient for possibly five weeks my doctor has warned (since I wrote this my time has been reduced to two to three weeks. I'm getting better baby!). I worry about what the long term absence has on little Noo. My parents have also gone away for a long time so there have been a lot of changes for a little boy of four and a half to process.

Noo has come to visit a couple of times already but the goodbyes get more painful each time. Today we were both crying on the street, unable to let each other go. How can you explain to a kid that this isn't forever? A day, a week, a month... are such long, long expanses of time for a preschooler.

On the flipside I've got my own room for the first time in nearly five years. I didn't realise how sharing a little room with my kid (and twice a week my niece as well) was having an impact on me. This room I'm in has an ensuite and a larger space than our room at home. It has a flatscreen TV, plus I have all my iGadgets and laptop with me. I keep tidying it and straightening things up before sitting down in the bed to watch TV or read or snooze. Having my own space is wonderful despite nurses popping their heads in every so often to check I'm ok.

Cluttered room/cluttered mind - a single room for 10 days is just what I needed
- not enjoying the shared situation but it's nearly home time

There's only been one rainy day since I've been here which is great. Nothing better for the mood than a walk on a sunny day. There's a huge community park right by the hospital which is a lovely place to walk around and also has a playing field and kids playground.

My goal while I'm here is to find my peaceful mind again. I also want to regain those life skills from previous in- and outpatient group therapy programs that I seemed to have forgotten along the way somehow.

I want to learn, and have the confidence to, set goals that are achievable and give me strength. I need to find the capable mother within me that doesn't bawl her eyes out at being asked "can I've a lollipop" for the fiftieth time and then begs her own mother to deal with it; the Vanessa whose heart doesn't start pounding with fear at the thought of a whole day out in public with kids in tow.

I know I'm in here somewhere. It's now just a matter of wading through the facts, thoughts, emotions and chemicals to find the real me again.

Finally, I want to thank those of you who wrote lovely words of support and encouragement on my last post. They really mean a lot to me so thank you.

Here's to the future!

V.

PS: I wrote this a couple of days ago. I'm feeling better with each day that passes now my medication has settled down. Even made that little picture for you! The next couple of days will be more group therapy and more planning my return home. I'm feeling really good about the future again and getting home to my beautiful boy.