Bipolar, bipolar disorder, Blog Post, depression, mania, Mental Health, mental illness, Uncategorized

Sometimes you know exactly what you need or don’t need when it comes to mental health treatment

The other day I decided I didn’t need to go to the day hospital or have one on one therapy for the moment. I didn’t make those decisions without reason; I have gotten to the point where I no longer have anything to discuss in therapy and I personally think that too much therapy is unhealthy as you start going over things again and again or you constantly ask the question ‘how was your week?’.

It wasn’t just me who thinks I don’t need therapy as I discussed this in my second last group in front of my psychologist and she also thinks I don’t need therapy.

I am going to continue to take my medications every day as prescribed and see my psychiatrist in March with my dad. I am also going to continue to not drink, limit my caffeine, get exercise and eat healthily.

I had some periods of mild low at the weekend but I didn’t get suicidal or despairing and I had absolutely no trouble getting out of bed so that is an improvement on my last low.




art, Feminism, Human Rights, Painting, Poème, Poemas, Poems, Poesia, Poetry, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

You may have ruined a moment but you didn’t ruin my life; I have hope

art, Bipolar, bipolar disorder, depression, mania, Mental Health, mental illness, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

My reflections on group therapy and art therapy

My day of therapy today started with me writing a no-send letter of empowerment to my rapist when I was on the train going to the clinic. Group therapy was not the same as at the other hospital I was at. We couldn’t just change topic when we got a word in edge ways and another patient completely dominated the discussion and only talked about himself. Self esteem through emotion was okay but the prevailing theme was depression and there was no discussion about how mania can affect your self esteem as well as depression even though I said I suffer from bipolar disorder. What I have learnt from these groups is that I need to ask the therapist or nurse if we can discuss a topic if I want to talk about something and it’s not happening.

Art therapy was very good and I painted an emotional piece of both art and poetry expressing the pain I have been through because of my heartache and the sense of loss I felt when what was going on with me and my rapist ended and it was against my choice. We all had a chance to talk about our artwork with the art psychotherapist. I feel very much cleansed of my feelings and much more in the present since that art therapy session. Next week I am either going to discuss the lack of trust I feel when it comes to people and in particular men and how my rape has made me feel that the world is a bad place where terrible things happen or I am going to discuss how it has affected my self-esteem and confidence.

Bipolar, bipolar disorder, mania, Mental Health, mental illness, ptsd, Rape, sexual assault, Sexual Violence, Uncategorized

An update to what’s going on with me

I thought I would give an update to how I am. I have genuinely been pretty stable with my bipolar this week. I would say I’m more slightly towards the high side of life but my medication is keeping me calm and stable. I haven’t really had any difficult days apart from the day when I started putting my poems about rape up when I felt in a bit of emotional pain.
So all in all bipolar and PTSD haven’t been bothering me too much this week. I have however been self harming by scratching. I am hoping I will be able to stop self harming when I start at the day hospital once a week as of next week for art psychotherapy, psychotherapy and self esteem through emotion. 

art, domestic abuse, Uncategorized

When you bruised my hand you also bruised my heart 

Copyright © Electra Rose January 2016

This piece was created in art therapy and it’s about the anger and pain I felt when someone very close to me purposefully gripped my hand very hard and really hurt me. I ran up to my room crying thinking that I hated them.