Increasing The Phenelzine (June – July 2023)

TW: Mentions of depression and suicidal thoughts.

NOTE: I wrote this a few months ago but waited to post it. There were a couple of things that I felt I wanted to comment on in the conclusion but I needed a little bit longer before I felt confident enough to do so. So I let things play out a bit but then some life stuff happened and this post got away from me for a bit. But here we are. Here it is.

Things had improved since I’d settled on the daily 30mg of Phenelzine but it still didn’t feel like enough. I wasn’t crushingly depressed but there were still problems, still areas of my life that weren’t back to what they used to be. So, for a while, I’d been thinking about increasing the Phenelzine, upping it to the high dose of 45mg (with my psychiatrist’s permission, of course). I had tried it before and it wasn’t the right thing for me – it was like the lights were too bright all of the time – but I hadn’t been coming from as low a place as I was this time; I hadn’t been trying to pull myself out of such a bad place. So, with that in mind, I wondered whether the higher dose would help, whether it would give me the additional rungs on the ladder that it seemed I still needed.

So I saw my psychiatrist and while he was quick to comment on how much of a change he could see since I’d started on the Phenelzine again, he listened to what I had to say and we discussed trying the higher dose. He asked me what the most important thing to me was and I said that I wanted my songwriting ability back. I’d written a couple of songs since I started taking the Phenelzine again and I loved them but they’d taken so much time and effort to write, much more than it would usually take. I used to write multiple songs a week with ease but, on the 30mg of Phenelzine, it was taking me months to drag one song out of my brain. So I wanted to write like I used to again. He listened and ultimately agreed: he said we’d use my creativity as a benchmark, using how many songs I was writing as a measure of whether the increase was helping or not (alongside whether I had any negative side effects, of course).

For a while, life was overwhelmingly busy and chaotic and there were things I needed to be able to do, that I needed to rely on my body and my behaviour (as much as I could normally, at least) to manage. So it was a while before I was able to increase from 30mg per day to 45mg per day. I started the increase on 17th June 2023 and took notes for the first six weeks (since the side effects and general effects can be quite subtle), finishing this record on 29th July.

And, as always when talking about medication, this is just my experience. Please don’t start, change, or stop taking any medications without the advice and support of a medical professional.


WEEK 1 (15mg in the morning and 30mg at night)

For most of the week, I didn’t feel any different. I have been more keen to engage with stuff, especially new stuff, but that’s not new exactly; it might’ve increased a bit but I couldn’t be sure. I was consistently tired and, on more than one occasion, I fell asleep before I could take my medication at night; I was also really drowsy during the day, needing naps to function, to make it to a decent bedtime. My back pain was relentless too, although my TENS machine did help.

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Come the end of the week, my sleep was a mess and I was completely exhausted. I ended up needing multiple naps during the day and still barely making it to a respectable bedtime, forgetting my pills again. But I was managing to do a lot: I worked through my to-do list, went out to see some cool art, managed to avoid a meltdown when a creepy guy wouldn’t leave me alone, and spent my short evening snuggling with the neighbour’s puppies. But even though I hadn’t really had the time to sit down and do any writing, my brain was like a firework show, ideas appearing one after another at a dizzying speed. It was more than a bit overwhelming. I didn’t manage to find out, exhausted as I was, whether I could turn those ideas into anything but it was a definite start.

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WEEK 2

The beginning of the week was so hot (the result of a hideous but thankfully short heatwave) that it felt almost impossible to do anything; moving around just made me even hotter, sickeningly so (heat like that makes my POTS symptoms go haywire, which just makes everything harder). For the most part, I dozed, cuddled up with one of the puppies. I was easily overstimulated and exhausted but I made it home to Brighton (with an impromptu nap on the train) and had a quiet evening before going to bed, falling asleep before I could take my pills or turn the light off.

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The rest of the week was a really mix. I slept better, longer and deeper – and I actually remembered to turn off the lights and take all of my pills before falling asleep – but I was so tired; I kept falling asleep on the sofa or in the car or really anywhere I sat down. I was just so exhausted. I struggled during the day, unable to concentrate even though it felt like my brain was full of ideas and things I wanted to do. But I just felt like I was being sucked down by sleep and staying awake took so much effort. It made me feel like I might start crying at any moment.

I had some really bad days, where I felt overwhelmed and overstimulated and miserable and just so tired that I couldn’t do anything, which, on top of it all, left me feeling so frustrated. I had a horrible time in therapy and was just feeling really fragile. Plus, I was really stressed about the puppy situation: I want her so badly and I have no idea what’s going on; the idea of losing her from my life makes my heart ache.

But despite all of the difficulties, I was surprisingly productive, and was busier than I’ve been in years. At least that’s what it felt like. I started to work on some of the song ideas that I’ve been turning over in my head; I hung out with friends; I managed to swim; I went to see the fantastic Candi Carpenter play a show in London (I’d missed their last UK shows because I was self-isolating) and then we all went to the pub afterwards and had a great time (highlights include all of us singing Taylor Swift karaoke and running into uni friends I haven’t seen in years); I even did a drawing class. It was all really good but it was just A LOT. It was hard to process it all.


WEEK 3

For the first half of the week, things were okay. My sleep was pretty good: I was sleeping long and deep, although I did have the weird, busy dreams that I’ve come to associate with a medication change. I was still incredibly tired during the day (I fell asleep upright on the sofa several times) but I did manage to get some stuff done. And even though my back was hurting, I did manage some hydrotherapy.

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Mentally, I wasn’t doing super well. I just felt really overwhelmed, drained and fragile. It felt like my depression was just hanging around, deep down, all the time. I was still functional and I even managed to do quite a bit of songwriting, more than I’d done in a while, but it was hard. I went to an amazing Maren Morris concert with my friend, Richard, and although I had an amazing time at the show, everything leading up to it and then the aftermath was a really struggle: getting there was exhausting and painful; the disability accommodations were as stressful as always; I was exhausted and freezing by the end of the gig; and it took forever to get home. I had a slow start the next morning, exhausted and aching after the concert, and despite the decent night’s sleep, I was a mess: I was completely overwhelmed and ended up in tears multiple times.

The second half of the week was really difficult. My sleep was a mess, making me a zombie during the day, and my emotions were all right at the surface, raw and ragged. I was beyond stressed and overwhelmed by everything that was coming up over the coming weeks; it felt like it was all barrelling towards me at an unstoppable speed. Both my body and my emotions felt so heavy and I was constantly bursting into tears.


WEEK 4

This week was pretty much dominated by my overwhelming, paralysing anxiety and stress over trying to get Taylor Swift tickets and the hurt and devastation of being treated so badly as a disabled person. I wrote about that here so I won’t rehash it all but I wanted to include what a devastating effect the experience had on my emotional and mental states. While the experience is, of course, separate from whatever the Phenelzine was doing, both are tied up with my emotional regulation and the effect my feelings have on me. As I said in my post, I was basically in various states of meltdown for all three days of the tickets presale. And it wasn’t just the suffocating anxiety of not getting a ticket: the way that Wembley Stadium treated disabled fans was appalling and it was just such a gut-punch to realise that they either didn’t care about us or they didn’t even remember that we exist. It was really distressing. I was so stressed and so depressed, even after I managed to get tickets. Just the thought of not getting to see this show, having looked forward to it for five years, had my emotions so big and loud and devastating that I felt this overwhelming compulsion to scream until my throat tore, to rip my skin off. With so little bringing me joy these days (and my chronic suicidality ever present and oppressive as a dark cloud), the thought occurred to me that, rather than endure the excruciating pain I know I would feel if the shows happened and I couldn’t be there, I should just kill myself to avoid it all. That thought just made me feel even more fucked up than I usually do. My emotions are so big and so precarious that even the smallest thing can tip me into serious and scary lows and this isn’t the smallest thing, given how much Taylor means to me. As I said in my post about the experience, these feelings are due to my mental health, to my depression and my chronic suicidal thoughts, not specifically to seeing Taylor; it’s about the fear of losing one of the few sources of joy when you’re in a really dark place. Those things will be different for everyone but the fear of losing them is so overwhelming that words don’t really do it justice.

The exhaustion and residual stress from that whole… experience had completely drained me of energy and, for several days, I was so tired that I could barely function (although I’d get sudden jolts of adrenaline, thinking I should still be on the phone, that I’d fucked up and forgotten, and was losing my chance). My sleep had been screwed up by my anxiety and I had pain from the physical tension I’d been holding in my body for three long days; both of those took most of the week to settle back to normal, normal being exhausted and sleepy and not able to do much. That was causing me a lot of anxiety too: I had so many things that needed doing but I was just too tired to do them and the anxiety over how they were piling up was starting to get overwhelming. I did manage to spend some time with friends, which was really nice, but I struggled to feel connected while still feeling so emotionally drained.


WEEK 5

The last week had exhausted me and it showed over the following weeks in various different ways. I was going to bed early, sleeping long and deep, and often struggling to wake up. And even with a long night under my belt, I was tired and drowsy during the day, often falling asleep on the sofa (and sometimes at my laptop); I struggled to concentrate, my eyes were tired and straining by the end of a day, and sentences stopped making sense. I was just completely done in. I hadn’t emotionally recovered either. I felt utterly overwhelmed, fragile and miserable; I was suicidal in the face of what just felt like too much. It wasn’t particularly surprising when I had an awful meltdown.

I did manage to be vaguely productive though, despite it all. I worked hard at my hydro and physio; I went to therapy; I managed some writing; I saw a couple of friends and had a good time with them, even if I didn’t feel as present as I usually would; I went to a show a friend runs (and the whole thing made me very emotional); I attended an interesting webinar about ADHD. But, even with how much I was struggling to be  present in my mind, nothing felt quite enough, like I hadn’t done enough or gotten as far as I’d wanted to. I’ve been trying not to beat myself up but I’ve never been very good at that, being kind to myself that is.


WEEK 6

Another week and my sleep still wasn’t great. I was still falling asleep early (sometimes forgetting to turn the light off or put in my retainer) and sleeping long hours, although I was starting to wake up at a more reasonable time. I was still really tired during the day, taking some accidental naps, and struggling to focus. It was getting better but, as I said, it wasn’t great.

I was working hard to build in better habits too, alongside the medication and therapy. I worked hard at hydrotherapy and started physiotherapy too. The physio was a bit of a shock to my system and I was sore for the first few days (which disrupted my sleep but then pain always does). But, midweek, I ran for a train and actually caught it, despite thinking that there was no way I was fast enough or strong enough to make it (I would’ve had to wait an hour on a cold platform for the next one so I was certainly motivated). There’s no way that, a year ago, I could’ve managed that; I was so ridiculously proud of myself. So the hydrotherapy has definitely made a difference and I feel confident that the physiotherapy will only complement that.

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I was also trying to drink more water. I definitely don’t drink enough and, given that the Autonomic Dysfunction I struggle with as part of my Ehlers Danlos leaves me prone to chronic dehydration, I should be drinking a lot more than the average person. I’m nowhere near that yet but I’m already drinking more than I was when I first measured my liquid intake.

It’s hard to know for sure but I felt like I was more productive and motivated than I had been previously. I was actually getting things done and getting them done at a faster pace: blog writing, songwriting, researching. I even went to an online writing workshop that I really, really enjoyed: the session was fun, the people were really nice, and I was really excited about what I wrote. My brain was just desperate for new things and new information; it was excited to learn. I don’t really know how to explain it any other way. I also went out and spent time with friends, went to a songwriters’ circle, and saw family friends. I was more social than I’d been in ages but I was kind of feeding on that, which is really unusual for me. But it was nice. And exciting. Oh, and I also started mentoring sessions for my creative projects, which I felt really optimistic about.

Unfortunately, the week didn’t end as well as it had begun, my depression hitting me like a tidal wave at full strength. It was so overwhelming that I felt like I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything. I was also really stressing about food and eating, feeling guilty as soon as I ate anything. I was miserable and exhausted and couldn’t focus on anything; I slept on and off during the day, dizzy and ears ringing. One side of my body was tingling too and we were this close to calling the doctor. It was horrible. I also found that I physically couldn’t relax: my body felt tensed up even though I wasn’t tensing my muscles (so I obviously couldn’t relax them if I wasn’t actually causing the problem). After several hours, my muscles started to hurt but I still couldn’t unclench them. My legs were twitching too and when I thought about it, I realised that that wasn’t new, that it had been happening on and off for weeks, as had the tensing in certain muscles. The more I thought about that, the more stressed out I got. I know that certain doses and/or extended use of certain medications, including Phenelzine can cause Tardive Dyskinesia, a movement disorder with symptoms including sudden and irregular movements in your face and body. It’s something that gets worse over time and the idea of developing it was really distressing to me.


In the following weeks, my sleep evened out, helped by CBD gummies and the occasional Diazepam or Zolpidem. I spoke to my psychiatrist about the twitching and whether it could be Tardive Dyskinesia. He felt that it was unlikely, that a much more likely cause was the physiotherapy, which I’d started around the same time the twitching started; he thought it was more likely that it was just my muscles waking up with the exertion I was putting them through for the first time in so long. So my anxiety was abated.

But now, several months later, the twitching is still happening and my anxiety is growing again. I’m going to go and see my psychiatrist and have a proper conversation about it because if it is something – something that needs to be dealt with rather than something that’ll just resolve in time – I need to know so that, at the very least, I can think about the options, whatever they are. It’s hard to believe they’ll be anything but bad though; past experience doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence.

A Week In My Life (May 2023)

It’s been a long time since I did a Week In My Life post but I thought they’d be fun to revisit. I don’t really have typical weeks anymore – every single one looks different with all of the different things I’m doing and experiencing – but I thought that might add to what makes them interesting; the format remains the same but the contents will always be completely different. This was a super busy week because, on the Monday morning after it ended, I was flying out to Germany so I had to get a lot of stuff done; there could be no putting it off and my ADHD brain did not like that. So it was stressful and busy and chaotic but there were also some really cool, fun, joyful moments too. So it was an interesting one to record.

The week in this post started on Monday 22nd May and ended on Sunday 28th May.


MONDAY

I was up at eight thirty and pretty much straight out to the hairdressers to have my hair coloured in preparation for going to Germany (I’d had it cut the week before). I find it takes several days to settle, for the sharp lines to soften and the colours to blend together nicely. I get so used to seeing it faded (because it’s expensive to get redone – I often top it up out of a box but needed it to look particularly nice on this occasion so didn’t) that seeing it fresh and bold is shocking, in the best way. I love it; it looks amazing every time and I can’t believe that I ever considered doing something different with it (apart from wanting blue hair because who doesn’t). It makes me feel so much more confident; it makes me feel like me.

Back home, I got stuck into some admin work. It took a lot of effort because my brain really didn’t want to do it but I got the necessary emails sent, submitted my Amanda Tapping story for her livestream (which I wrote about in my last post in case you missed it), did some diary catch up, and worked on several upcoming blog posts. I feel like there is never any time to breathe anymore, like I’m always only just keeping up so there isn’t even a moment to stop and think before moving onto the next thing. It’s really stressing me out.

When I had a brief look at social media, Twitter specifically, because of it being Mental Health Awareness Week, all I saw were the usual vague platitudes, corporate statements that didn’t mean anything, and pictures of the royals going to various events. The whole thing infuriated me and I started ranting, tweet after tweet until the thread was barely coherent and I nearly posted it but then I stopped and thought about what I was doing. The thoughts were rushed and frustrated, it’s so easy be taken out of context when you have so few characters, and Twitter can be a pretty toxic place. So I saved the tweets and resolved to elaborate on the thoughts in a better medium, like this blog (which I did and it turned into this post.)

I spent the evening packing since I was going to London the next day and then went to bed relatively early for me, around midnight. But unfortunately, I couldn’t sleep, despite doing everything that usually helps (a routine I have long since refined); I couldn’t seem to relax, my whole body shaking. I was still awake at four, practically vibrating with tension even as I tried to relax enough to sleep. I’ve had sleep paralysis before and it wasn’t that so I don’t know what was going on; I just kept finding my jaw clenched, my hands in fists, and even my toes curled. It was hideous and exhausting.


TUESDAY

I struggled up at nine thirty, got myself showered and dressed, and settled on the sofa with my laptop. I had some more admin work to do, more emails to send, and so I worked through that list before taking a break and scrolling through social media for a little bit. Then I spent several hours working on blog posts and an academic paper about Taylor Swift’s songwriting that I had to submit before I left for Germany; the paper itself was already written but I had a list of edits to work on plus two re-recordings and a new album to integrate into the existing relevant parts of the paper. I don’t mean to be so cryptic but I don’t want to talk too much about the specifics of it until there’s more certainty surrounding the project; it still feels very up in the air, to me at least. But maybe that’s just because it’s the first time I’ve done anything like this.

Mid-afternoon, I had therapy. I don’t want to get too deeply into what we talked about; that is very personal after all. But we did talk about all of the things I had to do before leaving for Germany, as well as how I was going to handle the trip to Germany itself. Sometimes my therapist brings a friend’s dog with her, which is always a bonus. I love her and she loves me and we have some great cuddles, which are very good for balancing out some of the hard stuff we talk about. But no such luck that day (it’s fine though – it’s not like I go for the dog). We finished on time and I managed to get to the station in time to catch my train. It isn’t a long journey but I filled the time, working on blog stuff. I had to make every minute count with so much to do before the week ended and I headed off to Germany.

I got off the train at Victoria station to a very strange sight. I’d paused several feet beyond the barrier to rearrange some of the stuff in my hands and pockets and saw a man standing with a wheelchair and a dog. As I stood there, he encouraged the dog into the wheelchair and it jumped up, turning around and sitting down like it knew exactly what to do. And then, out of his pocket, this man pulled a lizard – a bearded dragon, maybe – and placed it on the dog’s back. Again, it was like both of these animals had done this a hundred times and knew exactly what they were supposed to do. And off they all went, the man pushing the two of them in the wheelchair. It was so surreal to witness. I got the rest of my stuff rearranged and headed for the tube station, fascinated that nobody else seemed to have found this a strange moment to be present for. But then it is London, I guess; everyone is very ‘stay in your lane.’ The whole situation was just so bizarre and I was very aware that I was probably watching something that I’d never see again.

Usually I stay with one of my parents when I do an overnight in London but she already had someone staying so there wasn’t room for me. I ended up staying with family friends – as did my Mum actually since she was was working in a school in London, starting early the next morning – which was really nice because I hadn’t seen them for ages. So it was really nice to catch up. We were all tired and had early starts so we didn’t last long (and had to create a schedule to get everyone in and out of the bathroom in order for everyone to leave on time, which I don’t think I’ve had to do since I was a teenager in secondary school). It took me a while to decompress and go to sleep but it was still quite early by my standards, thank goodness.


WEDNESDAY

I had to get up at half six to get ready, which is most definitely the earliest I’ve had to get up in years. I had a shower, got ready, had some breakfast, and headed for the underground. An organisation I’m a part of, The F List, which supports female and gender minority researchers in music research, particularly research that supports gender equality in music and music research was holding an event, The F List Gender in Music 2nd Annual Research Hub Conference, at my university and I was keen to learn as much as possible – my brain finds learning new things positively addictive, something that I don’t think is uncommon for people with ADHD – even if I was a bit nervous about how long I could stay focussed for. But fortunately that wasn’t too bad and they’d made accommodations for anyone who needed them, although they were very neurodivergent sounding accommodations (as it turned out, there were so many neurodivergent people there that I was starting to wonder if we were all members of the club). As they said on their website: “The F-List Research Hub aims to expand and better introduce the existing feminist and interdisciplinary collective of researchers, dedicated to evidence-led activism which aims to create an environment in which women and gender expansive people in the music industries will be able to more successfully start and sustain their music careers for longer.” And the theme was ‘identity’: “Identity is a central theme in feminist research, which sees ‘who we are’ intimately entangled with ‘what we research.’ The definition above is deliberately broad and (we hope) inclusive to all who seek to research gender issues in music.

They ended up asking me to write the blog post for the event, which was really exciting. I would be taking notes all day anyway so I just added some extra notes about how the event worked, how everyone socialised, how things felt, in order to sum up the day accurately. We came up with a plan for what the blog would focus on and how long it would be and I played around with it in my head as I listened to the speeches and presentations.

Professor Sophie Daniels, one of the directors of The F List, the head of the songwriting program at ICMP, and my tutor for years, gave the keynote speech, which was really cool. This is what I wrote for the F-List blog because I’m not sure I could say it better: “After a bit of mingling, the day began with the Keynote speech from Professor Sophie Daniels, where she discussed, amongst other things, her career in the music industry, her founding of the songwriting program at ICMP, her artist project, Liberty’s Mother, and it’s associated advocacy work, as well as her research into why we write songs. I first met Sophie in 2014 and she was my teacher on and off for seven years while I studied at ICMP; so while I knew much of what she was sharing, it was really insightful to hear it presented this way, through the lens of feminism, particularly in the music industry and music education. Sophie has always inspired and supported me – as a songwriter, an artist, a researcher, a mental health and Autism advocate, and, ultimately, as a person – and so it was very special to watch her give the Keynote speech.” And it was: it was really special. I will never get tired of hearing ‘I Can Love You From Here.’ It makes my heart ache now just as it did when I first heard it eight years ago.

It was a lot of information but the presentations were short, about fifteen minutes each, which was the perfect length for my ADHD brain and each one was really interesting; I don’t know if it’s the neurodivergent brain but learning new things is always fun for me. The topics ranged from Trans and Non-binary inclusion in the music industry to support for those with ADHD in the music industry to exploring black feminism in the music industry to investigating the interwar generation of women composers at the Royal College of Music, as well as a conversation with the CEO of the Independent Society of Musicians. At one point, she talked about how badly the arts are treated and how they’re so important because they give life meaning: “They lie at the heart of what it means to be a human being.”

Oh, and I greatly enjoyed being introduced to this song…

I found all of it interesting – I really did – (although I did need some time in the quiet space because it was a lot of information and a lot of noise) but I think I was most engaged by the presentations on support for neurodivergent individuals in the music industry, by the one on the emerging trends in the careers of women in the music industry, and the one investigating the interwar generation of women composers at the Royal College of Music. I did wonder whether my Granny would actually be part of that group but when I worked it out, I realised that she wouldn’t have enrolled until after the end of the period of study. It would’ve been so bizarre if her name had appeared in that research.

When the presentations finished, we congregated in the attached cafe to socialise and network, which turned into a commemoration Tina Turner dance party, which was a fun if bizarre way to end the day. It was hard to leave: it was such a nice group of people plus I was dreading the long journey home. But it was a good day; I learned a lot, I fell into some really cool opportunities, and spent time with friends, old and new.

I did eventually make my way to the station and catch a train home. My Mum very kindly picked me up – I was beyond exhausted from so much standing and socialising and focussing all day – and when I got home, I went straight to bed. I had a look at social media for a while, decompressing from the outside world, before going to sleep around one, which isn’t bad for me at the moment.

One of the opportunities that came out of the day was the chance to do the write up – a blog post – of the day. You can find that here.


THURSDAY

I spent most of Thursday at my laptop, working on my Taylor Swift paper. I was really on a roll; I felt like the Kermit the Frog at a typewriter meme. I had already been writing and making progress with it but I hadn’t really managed to get on a roll until that morning and having finally hit my stride, I was having a blast. I was expanding on ideas already present in the paper and building in new ones; the only problem was that I was just increasing the word count and the task of cutting it down was looming. But I was enjoying the fun parts while they lasted and I vaguely resented being interrupted when I had to go out.

It’s been a really long time since I had my last appointment with my psychiatrist, although we’ve stayed in touch. He was in a new office – with a gorgeous view of both the Downs and the sea – and it was much nicer than the last one, which had felt incredibly medical and sterile. I like this one a lot more. And, in the waiting room, there was a painting that I instantly fell in love with: a seascape by a local artist called Sara Hill. I would love to own something like this, to get to look at it everyday. It was completely gorgeous and I found it very soothing to look at, which I suppose is fitting for a psychiatric office.

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The appointment went well. My psychiatrist and I talked through my experience with the Phenelzine and what has improved and what’s still a struggle. I’d wanted to discuss increasing the dosage, which we did. It had been too much last time – I felt very overstimulated all of the time – but I thought that, given that I’ve been trying to climb out of a deeper, darker place, a higher dose might be what I needed to make it that extra distance. We talked through that idea – and how much I want to write more again, which I just haven’t been able to – and he agreed. And, proving how well he knows me after all of this time, he suggested we judge the effectiveness by how much I’m writing. Sounds good to me.

Back home, I tried to re-harness my previous focus on my paper and while it wasn’t quite as effective, I did manage to get another good chunk of work done. I even had some time to do a bit of blog writing since I doubted I’d have much time to write while in Germany, I needed to have something prepared for the Saturday at the end of the trip. By the time I went to bed, I was completely exhausted and my brain felt vaguely like I’d put it in the microwave for too long.


FRIDAY

Despite going to bed so late, I was able to drag myself up early for a very important Zoom call. I don’t want to talk about who it was with and what it was about yet, not until things are more certain. But it was a very exciting call and, all being well, some awesome life things will come out of it. That’s all I’ll say for now.

I didn’t have long until my next Zoom call so I spent about ninety minutes or so working on blog stuff. I just needed some decompression time and I find blog post writing very soothing for some reason; I think it just allows my brain to turn over an idea, over and over and over until it makes sense, and getting the words into a satisfying rhythm.

I had a really nice Zoom call with one of my best friends and we ended up talking for about two hours. We can talk about anything, from movies to the really big stuff in our lives, and we can talk for days without needing a break; we can just go off on these tangents that go on for hours and then we eventually backtrack to our original conversation topic, only to go off on another tangent. We have a lot in common and we have so much fun together. At one point, we tried to figure out how we became friends – having met on the MA – but we couldn’t: it seems that we both thought we were already friends and just skipped the whole ‘becoming friends’ part of the friendship, which is actually pretty on brand for us now that we are really good friends. I have no idea if that makes any sense but that’s how it is.

We hung up so that I could get ready and go to therapy. Again, I don’t really want to talk in detail about what we discussed but, in general, we talked about going to Germany, the things I was anxious about, and how I might manage them. I wasn’t feeling too stressed (which turned out to be ridiculous because I found the whole trip incredibly stressful) so it wasn’t too bad.

When I came out of therapy and checked my phone, I saw that Taylor Swift had made an announcement, the release of Midnights (The Late Night Edition) and the new song, ‘You’re Losing Me.’ Someone had already shared it online. Had the song been released somewhere where I could listen to it legally where Taylor would get paid for my purchase or stream, I absolutely would’ve done so – I’ve always felt very passionate about that – but since it’s only available on a CD one can buy at tour dates, I don’t feel bad listening to it online. And what a song it is; it immediately joined my 2023 in Songs post because I love it so much, especially the lyrics. I’ve talked about it more there (I’ll add the link when that post goes up in December) but the ongoing medical imagery is heartbreaking, the way the bridge just keeps building is one of my favourite Taylor techniques, and the imagery in the lyrics all had me absolutely hooked (I particularly love “Remember lookin’ at this room, we loved it ’cause of the light / Now, I just sit in the dark and wonder if it’s time,” “And I wouldn’t marry me either / A pathological people pleaser / Who only wanted you to see her,” and “Do something, babe, say something / Lose something, babe, risk something / Choose something, babe, I got nothing / To believe / Unless you’re choosin’ me / You’re losin’ me”). It’s a gorgeous, gorgeous song and weeks later, I’m still listening to it over and over. So that was a moment to have missed because of therapy.

Back home, I went back to working on my paper. One of my parents stopped in for dinner and we had a good catch up before I got back to work. Then I had some decompression time, writing more of my Mental Health Awareness Week blog post before going to bed.


SATURDAY

I spent the morning working on my paper before catching a train to London. I used the trip to keep writing and then navigated the tube system to get to the Thin Air exhibition at The Beams near London City Airport. And it was absolutely stunning…

The exhibition was made up of several different rooms, designed by different artists or artistic collaborations. I didn’t like all of them but of the ones I liked, I absolutely loved:

  • The first was a hallway filled with moving lights and low frequencies. The lights were mesmeric and the low frequencies felt heavy in my chest, which was a weird feeling: on the one hand, it felt a little like my chest was about to implode but on the other, it was like I could feel every vibration in the room passing through my lungs. The description at the beginning of the piece read,”In Cleanse/Mantra, laser light travels down a corridor at 11o Hz per second, which is a wavelength of just under 3 metres. As visitors pass through the installation, their viewing distance is sliced into even sections. This creates a visual mantra: a repeated series of waves, which increase in amplitude. 110 Hz is known as the ‘human pitch,’ stimulating the right side of the brain, where art spirituality, and emotion are centred.” It was made by James Clar, an artist who works with light and technology with an interest in how new media technologies shape human behaviour. Many of his works play with perception using sculptural elements that appear to warp between dimensions, using a wide range of materials and systems, such as multi-channel video installations, lasers, LEDs, and 3D printed elements. He combines these elements to create complex narratives that reference mythology and global history, while questioning our engagement with digital culture.
  • The second one was a big, warehouse like room where red and white light seemed to flash sporadically, plunging you into darkness as sporadically. It played strangely with your vision and the same low, heavy frequencies pressed in on you despite the huge space; the contrast was very weird. I found it very compelling; I felt it drawing me in even as the pressure of the low frequencies began to hurt. The space was designed by404.zero, a collaboration between the artists Kristina Karpysheva and Alexandr Letsius. The duo specialises in real-time, generative, and code-based art, which is presented in large-scale installations, performance and music. They combine noise with randomised algorithms to stimulate visceral and awe-inspiring reactions. Through their use of digital technology, they question the power structures of the Anthropocene and global politics, revealing them as invisible yet impregnable environments of the contemporary condition. On their Instagram, they describe it by saying, “In our artistic installations, we endeavour to eschew narrative descriptions, encouraging individuals to introspect rather than rely on external interpretations. We challenge visitors to delve deeper into their own perceptions and explore the depths of their personal experiences!”
  • The third of the rooms was a similar warehouse-like room but with lines of lights across the ceiling, the lights speeding overhead almost like cars on a road at night or flashing on and off suddenly. It was beautiful, the colours changing; one of colour combinations stuck out in my mind because it reminded me of a lion fish. Around the room, there were big bean bags that you could sit or lie on and look up at the lights. We ended up staying there for ages, even though the low frequencies of the room were creating so much pressure in my body. While part of me liked that feeling, it did start to feel painful after a while; other than that, it was incredibly relaxing and I could’ve sat there for hours. It was called Lines, made by S E T U P, a studio founded by Znamensky Dmitry, Novikov Stepan, Zmunchila Pavel and Kochnev Anton in 2018, that works with light, programming and sculpture to create installations that sharpen physical perception, merging the lines between multimedia art, lighting & stage design, and performance programming.
  • The fourth room was much smaller with a screen on the floor that we all stood around and watched as the points of multiple lasers moved across the screen as if carving out pathways in a landscape; they’d follow the same route but always slightly different, like the erosion of rivers made from light. It was hypnotic and very soothing to watch; I could’ve watched it for hours had there been somewhere to sit. It was called ‘Phosphor’ by Robert Henke and the description read: “In Phosphor, an ultraviolet laser paints temporary traces, on a layer of phosphorus. Retained for just a moment, the lines are ever evolving, combining into marks that evoke natural patterns of erosion.” Ha, I’d forgotten it said that so the imagery it was trying to evoke definitely certainly worked. Anyway. Robert Henke is a digital artist who works with algorithmically generated images, laser installations and early personal computer hardware. Also a co-creator of the cult music software Ableton Live, Henke has redefined the way we create and experience electronic music.
  • And the last room that really inspired me was one full of red lasers that were aimed around the room. The shape of the space it created reminded strongly of being inside a circus tent. It was very surreal to move through it because you kept expecting to walk into a fence – which the lines of light looked very much like – and bounce back but then, of course, you moved through them. I had great fun pretending I had superpowers, pretending that I was creating the beams of light. It was created by Matthew Schreiber and the description read: “A site-specific light sculpture, Banshee 2023 responds to the volume of the room it inhabits. The precise placement of lasers produces a series of geometric patterns frozen in space. Evoking the tools of the entertainment industry and its production of spectacle, visitors are invited to move within a static light show, seeing it change as we shift our position in the room.” Matthew Schreiber is a multi-disciplinary artist best known for his large-scale laser light sculptures, such as this one and visitors are often invited to interact with his work. Interested in how physics, technology and perception can alter our experience of the world, he reimagines light and space to explore unseen forces.

It was really cool and I’m really glad we got to see it before it closed (while we were in Germany). I would’ve stayed longer if I could’ve but I still had so much to do and they do encourage you to keep moving through the rooms.

Then it was back on the train home and even though I was exhausted, I continued working on the paper and on the upcoming blog posts. I also managed to reply to some of the messages I’d been unintentionally procrastinating over, accidentally pushing them back in favour of getting more work done. So that felt like an achievement too. I was pretty much getting things done out of sheer willpower – something that absolutely does not always work but did this time for some reason – which I was very relieved by. Of course, so pleased to be on a successful streak and unwilling to break it, I ended up going to bed much too late.


SUNDAY

It was a very goal focussed day. I managed to get my blog post of the week – So That Was #MentalHealthAwarenessWeek… – done and published relatively early in the day and then I moved on to the piece about The F List conference. I had all of my notes from the actual day and I’d been making notes since then: thoughts that felt important to include, anecdotes that would make it more personal, and so on. I got that done mid afternoon, I think, and sent it off (they really liked it and it was published and shared a few days later).

Afternoon and evening, I packed for Germany. I was going to be there for a week but I am a terrible packer – I just find it really hard. I wonder if that’s an ADHD thing, given that it’s an organisation and planning based skill. Interesting; I’d never thought of that. I don’t know but possibly. I’ll have to do some research. Anyway, as I said, I’m a really bad packer (I once packed for five weeks in Australia two hours before I left for the airport – the dread and procrastination were so bad) so I struggled through that as a task. Eventually I got that done, with probably much more than I’d need.

I spent the rest of the evening trying to finish my Taylor paper. This edit was essentially finished – apart from one section, which I couldn’t work on until I got some of the literature they’d promised to send me (and now have sent me) – but it was way over the word limit and, as hard as I tried, I couldn’t get it down without cutting out significant parts of whatever point I was making or the evidence for it. But I kept trying and trying and trying, as well as tidying the whole thing up. In the end, around two in the morning, I decided that I would send it as it was and ask the organisers – all of them accomplished academics – for their advice on the word count. I’ve never done this before but they have; hopefully they can help me get it down to the required length without compromising the content on the next edit. So I stopped at two and went to bed, my laptop on the bedside table so that I could send it first thing in the morning.


It was a very anxious week: there was the pressure of trying to get everything done, the unknowns of the conference, and the anxieties around going to Germany. It was hard. But it’s also really nice to be productive again, to be working and producing, even if my mental health and neurodivergence do make that a struggle sometimes; over the last couple of years, I’ve been so paralysed by my mental health problems – by my depression and anxiety specifically – that I’ve barely been able to do anything. So just to do things at all, let alone the amount of things I’ve been doing, is kind of amazing to me.