Living with bipolar, part 1

I’m currently trying to come off an antidepressant called Venlafaxine. It’s not easy. I’m down to half a tablet (from a dose of 3 whole ones) but am getting withdrawl symptoms. This is a picture of my hated enemy.
  
I’m becoming very grouchy about getting older, but there’s an elephant in the room, and that’s what I want to talk about this week. It may not be comfortable reading, but you are not obliged to read it. You are certainly not obliged to comment.  I’m doing this for a selfish reason. I’m trying to clear my head.
    The elephant is bipolar disorder or ‘wonky brain syndrome,’ my own preferred term. The reason that bipolar is a treatable illness is because  it is caused by having a brain which malfunctions in terms of mood control.  I’ve just watched the first half of a BBC programme about Heston Blumenthal, the famous chef who only got his bipolar diagnosis aged 56. What becomes clear is that he had the condition for many years without knowing it. His kind of biplolar was mainly manic, full of the bizarre creativity he became known for,  a mind with more ideas going on in it than he could ever hold onto. I know the feeling.  
    To be continued.
 
On a lighter although oddly heavier note, I watched most of Back to the Beginning, the Black Sabbath/ Ozzy farewell thing last night. More heavy metal than you could shake a stick at!  It all seems very tribal to me.