Get a Grip

I really need to get a grip at the moment.
Outwardly things are going really well for me right now and yet I feel like I've got a huge black cloud over me. I am trying my hardest to be positive but I just feel bloody miserable. I can't shift it and its wearing me out. I know it's all part of my mood cycle. I've been really up lately and what goes up always has to come down, especially in my world. I know if I'm careful I'll work my way through it but I'm scared. I'm scared it'll take over and then I won't be able to do a thing about it. That's the trouble with depression. Everyone gets down and everyone reacts when something happens in their life. It's when there's no reason to be down that its so hard. It makes me feel like I'm being selfish . I am managing to keep a smile on my face in public but the rest of the time I just want to cry. Take yesterday, it was the perfect day. The weather was lovely and I spent the day with my Mum and Dad.We sat in the garden , had dinner and chatted. See...perfect, so why did I cry all the way home? I don't know what I want and I don't know what will make it better. I know all the things I'm supposed to be doing. On paper it's easy...eat properly, do some exercise, talk to friends, blah blah blah. Well it's not that simple. If it was then we'd all be happy and psychiatrists would be out of a job. Don't get me wrong , it helps to try and help yourself. I do try and take some responsibility for my health. It's just not that easy. I hate myself for being like this. I don't want to feel like this. Someone asked me what it feels like to be depressed. It's hard to describe. I expect everyone is different. I'd say it feels like shit. It feels like there is no hope, it feels like life is a horrible chore to be endured. I've never been very good with other people who have depression. I always think they should be able to sort it out , which does make me feel  bad. I should have more understanding . It's easy to sympathise when you can see what the problem is but not when someone is being so negative for no real reason. All I can do now is hope I can get through it without doing any damage. 
Since I started writing this it's got worse. I can't stop crying and I feel sick all the time. I don't know how much longer I can go without anyone noticing. Maybe it's to do with the fact that I changed my medication. I need to speak to someone and soon. If I get really ill again then everything I've worked so hard to achieve over the last couple of years will be a complete waste. Sometimes it's so hard. All I want is a bit of normality. Is that really too much to ask? I really do hate myself for being so pathetic.

Sex without strings ?

It's funny how sometimes you can meet someone and there's an instant physical attraction. I don't really think age comes into it . You either fancy someone or you don't .

I expect the whole thing is different for you. Men are different in their thinking. I always fancied you, I liked you too. Whenever I spoke to you I could see where you were coming from. You always seemed to have a real determination about you and I liked that. You also had a sadness about you  and I could identify with that. 

I have no idea what on earth possessed me to come on to you.....I guess at the time I was just starting to realise that as a single woman I could do what the fuck I liked! I never really thought you would take me up on it!  

That first time I was absolutely petrified . I bet you thought I was confident and you probably thought I was always doing that sort of thing. I wanted sex but if I'm honest I wanted someone to pay me some attention too. The excitement I felt as you came up to my door was such a buzz .....and I still get that same buzz. You only have to get within a few feet of me and I can feel myself getting aroused.I've never really felt that with anyone  before.

When I've seen you out it's just added to the thrill of it all. 

I thought the sex was pretty fantastic right from the start and I was disappointed when you called it a day after only  the second time. I think I scared you off by talking too much but it was ok....it was what it was, a fantastic fuck!  I guess I couldn't quite get you out of my mind so at the first opportunity I thought fuck it let's have another go ! I don't know how many times we've done it , lol,  you'll be pleased to know I haven't counted the exact number!! I can honestly say that no man has given me orgasms like you have.  I can also tell you I have done things with you that I've never done with anyone else before. I don't know what it is, I guess you just got it ! Maybe it's because you are forbidden fruit and maybe its because there could never be a chance  of anything else between us.You made me feel confident and I felt like I could try anything with you. Believe it or not I used to be quite prudish sometimes with my ex . I never felt I could let myself go completely. Somehow I can do that with you. I think the sex has got better and better for me.  Sometimes I can't quite get my head round why you'd want to fuck me but I'm guessing the fact that you keep coming back for more means that you enjoy it as much as I do.

I don't know what you really think of me. I don't even know if I'd want to.The one thing that would really kill me is if you thought I was just some old slapper.

I'm sure I'd be happy for you to keep fucking  me in secret forever....the best sex and no hassle.

I have never asked anything of you and you don't owe me a thing but I just hope that you can look back and remember how good it was at the time. I am going to be old and grey and you are still going to be hot and I don't want you to look at me and think ewwwww ! I have to admit my feelings are probably more than I thought they'd be when it all started.  I don't think it's possible to be so intimate with someone and remain completely detached. I don't even really know you but I am really fond of you and I like it when we get to have a chat. I've seen your life change for the better over the last year and it makes me smile to see you happy.  If you told me you'd started seeing someone you really liked or that you'd fallen in love with someone I would be genuinely thrilled for you....I really do  mean that .You are young and beautiful (and I don't mean just looks) and you deserve to get whatever it is you are striving for.  

There  is so much you don't know about me...I doubt you would have come anywhere near me if you knew half of it . You have been like a breath of fresh air for me and you have made me feel good about myself again. You gave me confidence and made me feel so sexy... I will always be grateful for that and for the fact that you didn't judge me.

I  feel sure that we will stay friends long after the sex has stopped. I do have feelings for you.....I care about you and want you to be happy. I would never intentionally do anything to upset you or piss you off. I'm sure your thoughts are far less complicated...sex is just sex .....well you are a bloke and I am female! haha women always like to romanticise.

Of course  I'd be quite happy for you to continue popping over whenever you feel like it. Well, while we're both still single and still up for it. I'm sure there'd be some who think its wrong but we're not hurting anybody, so it's really not a problem.

Sex without strings ? ....yes it can work provided you have respect for each other and respect for what it is.

2000 Emails

Well that was a  weird situation. I just sat next to my ex husband in the doctors for about half an hour. We sat and chatted, just chit chat about nothing really. How things change. I didn't feel any animosity but I didn't really feel anything. I must be over it.

Splitting up is difficult, especially when you've got no idea it's coming and when you really don't want it to happen.

It's taken almost two and a half years for me to come to terms with it all. I think it probably took as long for him too. 

When we first split up we couldn't seem to break away from each other. I was deleting stuff on my laptop the other day and found over two thousand emails between us . It was painful to read some of them. I can't believe how desperate and needy I was and I can't believe some of the stuff he said to me. He really did give me false hope and kept me hanging on. 

Lynn

I am sorry about Sunday night and the texts, I nearly got dressed and was going to come round but thought better of it. I am struggling with all of this as I imagine you are, I cant get it out of my mind and I really want to sit down and talk about it but the whole thing just pulls on my heart strings and I go to pieces.I feel so guilty that I put myself before you in all this, I care about most of the people in my life and you are the one who is closest to my heart and I have let you down big time. I feel now its not about me and my life, its how my actions affect the people around me, especially you.I know you didn't see this coming and why you feel I deserted you, which now I know I did.

The vows we take when we got married are 'for better or worse, in sickness and in health' and I cant help feeling I did run away from it when I could have helped you much more. I just wish I could turn back the clock and behaved differently and help you to get better rather than worry about myself.

I dont know what to do next, I hate it when you talk about me forgetting you and you not wanting to be part of my life. My family keep saying you're ok and how I should let you get on with your life without me in it and the fact I am being unfair keeping in touch with you and maybe giving the wrong signals but I cant stop wanting to see you and help you. What shall we do?

Stuart

Stuart

Dr Bateman asked me how I was this morning and I burst into tears. He thinks you need to make your mind up. I won't change the way I feel whatever you do. I am still in love with you and even though I know things can't go back to how they were before I got ill, I want some kind of relationship with you, which is more than tea and a chat. I want us to make love, I want us to do things together that are fun. I don't doubt you still love me in some kind of way.  When I looked back over all our conversations whenever I have tried to make a break you won't let me. Yesterday I felt so distraught I told you I would be prepared to share you. What's happened to my self respect? I am finding it all too much to bare at the moment. I am like a nervous wreck. I am scared you are going to leave me for good but am I just prolonging the agony? I don't give a fuck what anyone else says. It's you that needs to make a final decision. 

All I really wan't is a bit of happiness back in my life, like when I saw you last week.  

Lynn x 

Constant messages like these, trying to work out what the fuck was going on. 

As well as emails there were hundreds of Skype conversations and text messages . We met up in secret and slept together. I even slept at my old house a couple of times. We made each others lives a misery. I really believed we would get back together at some point and he knew it and let me believe it.  I know he was feeling guilty for deserting me when I was ill but he was so wrong to try and get so involved once we'd split. He should have walked away and let me be.

The one thing I still don't understand is where does she fit in all this? How could he love her as much as he said he did and lie and cheat for all that time?

I don't know what changed. It happened suddenly. I couldn't be second best anymore.

Time really does heal. I think the fact that I have my Bipolar under more control made me stronger and less needy.

No wonder it took so long to get over it all though.

A Fresh Start? 

I'm so happy that I've got a new job. I've struggled for a long time at work and to get the chance for a fresh start, where no one knows about my bipolar, is amazing. So how come I just threw up at the thought of it. It's not that I'm not looking forward to it. I'm just scared I'm going to muck it up. On paper it's the perfect job for me. All the years I've spent in physio and all the experience I've got will mean I should be able to do it no problem. I just worry about the whole thing. What if I  can't get up in the mornings? What if I get ill again and have to go off sick? What if they notice anything strange about me? What if I completely fuck up the last chance of a decent job I'm ever going to get? 

I don't know why I can't just be happy and enjoy it. I always end up doing this. I've had so much crap in my life over the last few years I find it almost impossible to believe that things might just be going my way. Bloody hell, talk about feeling sorry for myself! Of course as far as anyone else is concerned there's nothing wrong. I will put on a great show of enthusiasm and make sure everyone knows how happy I am about it all. 

There's no real reason why things should go wrong. I know I am quite capable of doing the job. I know it's something I will enjoy. I love hands on physio and that's what I'll be doing. 

I suppose it is quite normal to be nervous. I've just got to be careful I don't let my fears get the better of me. The last thing I need is to have a complete meltdown over the one thing that could help keep me well. 

I don't know how I can go from oozing with confidence to feeling like a rabbit in the headlights within hours. It's a horrible feeling but something I have sort of got used to. The only good thing is that at least I realise it . I just have to keep telling myself that everything will be ok in the end and if its not I'll get over  it. 

Making the bed

Some days I've had to make  the bed 10 times! Why? I have no idea. Sometimes it just doesn't go right and I have to do it again. Sometimes I need it to look perfect. 

There have been times where I've slept in the chair because I don't want to muck the bed up. There are times when I've sat on the floor so I don't mess my cushions up. As I'm writing this I'm realising how ridiculous it seems.My god I'm making myself sound like a right weirdo.
It is quite upsetting as I really can't help it.

I've always been tidy. I don't think it's a bad thing . People always comment on how nice my place is. It's just when I get obsessed with it that I know it's not quite right. Everything, right down to the back of the kitchen cupboard has to be organised and tidy. I can't function when things are a mess. It's not all the time that I'm so picky. I'm always tidy but I do " live" in my flat. I can't say when it's worse. Not really when I'm depressed....then I don't really care. Not when I'm on a real high either . I don't know but I guess it's all part of my bipolar.

It only becomes a problem when I don't want people round because they might make a mess or I don't eat properly because I'll make a mess in the kitchen. 

 It's not always a problem ... it's only me here and if I've got the time, what does it matter?  It has been a problem when I've been late for work though,  because I can't leave the house until its in order. I have been known to stay up all night if I've got an appointment the next day so I've got time to do everything before I go.

I get on my own nerves. I wish I could be more laid back more often. I don't know what the answer is. 

It's not OCD. I don't know what it is. 

Medication

Don't want it but can't live without it. Since I had a heart attack I have to take five different medications to keep my heart healthy. I don't have a problem with that, so why has it been so difficult coming to terms with taking psychiatric medication. Yet again there's a real stigma attached to taking these kinds of drugs. What people don't realise is that it can make the difference between having a life and having no life. I'd even go as far as saying taking the medication could be a matter of life or death. My dad would die if he didn't use his insulin. No one has ever questioned that. Why would they ? So why have countless people questioned why I need to take medication to help keep my bipolar under control ? 

I'm not saying its right to pump people full of drugs . Medication is not the only way to control bipolar, but for me it certainly helps. It's a combination of things that keep me well.

The road to finding the right medication was certainly a long and bumpy one for me. I think it's the same for most people. It took nearly four years to get the right combination . I take Lithium and an antipsychotic called Quetiapine. That's another thing. I'm not psychotic and never have been yet I take something that suggests otherwise. 

I mentioned before that the first thing I was given was an antidepressant , which made me hypomanic. From then on I must have been on at least ten if not more different drugs in different combinations before getting to where I am today. They either didn't work or they over sedated me or had other side effects like restlessness, twitchy muscles, fliud retention, weight gain.....bloody list is endless. Sometimes I just stopped taking them. Mostly because I read stuff on the Internet and frightened the life out of myself or because I thought I didn't need it anymore or because I couldn't stand the side effects. 

Most medications have some side effects. For me it's a case of weighing up the benefits against the negatives. 

If I could give anyone any advice I'd say be informed about what you're taking. Do your research but don't get too worried by what you read. For every person who has a horror story , there's another with a positive story. 

If you tell they won't  believe you.

For years I never thought of it as rape.

When someone you know does something to you so wrong and so bad, you almost think it was right..

You can't tell anyone either.

I've never told anyone about this before....not even my husband.

It's something I've kept tucked away inside for over twenty years. I think writing my blog and thinking about things that have happened in my life brought it back into my mind. 

I have to be so careful not to write anything that would identify the person. It would cause too much upset.

We'd been on a night out , my friend, her partner and me. Just the three of us. I was just twenty. It was a good night and I remember being a bit pissed. I nearly always ended up pissed at that age ! I think we'd been to a nightclub.

I never liked her boyfriend that much. He always made me feel uneasy. Can't really say why, he just did.

I was ready for sleep as soon as we got in. I was sleeping on the sofa.

The second my head hit the pillow the light went on. It was him. He had a glass of water and some headache tablets. He told me to take the tablets as it would stop me from getting a hangover. I was tired and I just took them. 

The next time I woke up it was pitch black and I felt freezing cold. I felt something brush against my leg. I tried to scream but nothing came out. I could make out two shadows. I knew it was him. The other one was the dog.

I tried to pull the covers over me but couldn't move. I was naked and cold and I didn't feel right. I  heard him say  "here  boy" and then I felt the dog licking my legs. I can't describe what happened next. I had no control over what he did. I was terrified . When he'd finished he covered me up, kissed my forehead and left the room. 

I don't remember anything after that. 

In the morning , when my friend was in the shower he said " It was a bad dream. You were drunk. If you say a word they will never believe you". I didn't say a word.
Another reason why I will never trust anyone fully.

My family

Family has always been really important to me. I'm lucky that I've got a family where there have never been any major fall outs. Not that I know of anyway. I've never fallen out with any of them...something that's all too common I know. Any problems I have are my own and not their fault. I doubt they'd even realise . 

My Mum and Dad have got to be the most " normal" couple. They've been married for fifty odd years and they still love each other. I'm 100% sure they are still together because they want to be and not out of circumstance or habit. I can't think of anything bad about my parents. Maybe they let us get away with a bit too much when we were younger, I don't know. I'm sure my mum knew some of the things I got up to as a teenager but chose to ignore it.

I have two sisters, both married. My brother in laws are great.I am the middle sister. I've always felt like the odd one out though.I don't know why. When I was a kid it seemed that my younger sister got away with more because she was the baby and my older sister got away with more because she was more grown up. I hated being in the middle. The worst thing was that I always had to sit on the bumpy bit in the middle of the back seat of the car :-). Apart from the odd teenage fight we've always been close. I think times when we've drifted apart a bit have been because I haven't wanted to do things. When I was married we used to do more as couples. Even though they don't mind I feel like a spare part now......my problem. I've refused invites so many times I think they just don't bother asking me anymore. 

I don't have a favourite sister. I'm sure over the years we've had phases of who I've been closest to but I can honestly say I love them equally. I suppose I'm more  likely to get the hump with my big sister...... that's because she's the oldest and she's always right !! I love it when we have girls days out. Just the three of us.

I've got two nieces and two nephews. I don't see as much of them as I did when they were kids but love them all. They've all grown up into lovely people. That's when I get really upset about my son, thinking about what he could be doing with his life. I'm sure they all love me but I'm also sure they just think I'm nuts. Mad Aunty Lynn! 

There are aunties and uncles and cousins too. There's not one of them I don't really like or would have a problem with. 

As much as I love my family, I hate big get togethers, especially Christmas. I feel self conscious and I know I get loud and act stupid. I don't know why. It's how I cope. I try to make a joke of everything. I always act the fool and make everyone laugh. Always the life and soul.  What I really want to do is tell everyone to fuck off and then go home. I hate being like that, it's just that when everyone is there I feel under pressure to be ok. 

When it's just me and my sisters or me and my mum and dad it's usually ok. 

I am extremely lucky to have my family. I would find it difficult to cope if I didn't have their support. A psychiatrist wrote in a report about me that my family life was "unremarkable". I think my family is pretty remarkable! 

First and probably the last time I try writing a poem!!

I'm forever battling against what's on my mind

Waiting until I can get to bed and sleep it away

I'm not sure how to get it out of my head

It gets me so exhausted

It swallows me up

Never giving me a chance of happiness 

My nightmares are how I pay

For what's on my mind all day

I'm forever battling with what's on my mind

I don't ever want to go to sleep

I need to keep it in my head

By the end of the day I'm full of energy 

It fills me with such excitement

Making me feel so happy and alive

My racing thoughts are how I pay

For whats on my mind all day 

Thats it then ....
So after twenty two years they have decided I can no longer cope with my job. Bloody hell. I guess that's it then. 

For sixteen years I worked without a problem as a physiotherapy assistant, working with adults with learning disabilities. I can honestly say I loved it most of the time and hardly had a day off sick. Sixteen years is a long time. I was good at my job and never wanted to do anything else. It must be awful having to do a job you hate. 

It's the last five or six years that have changed everything. When I first got ill, I couldn't cope with the pressure. It's a very people orientated job and when you're depressed it's almost impossible to engage with others without them noticing when something's wrong. It wasn't so bad when I was a bit high as I felt I could cope with anything and probably took on too much. It's ok having all these great ideas and starting projects but when things come down you're left with an overwhelming amount to do. With all that's happened I obviously had loads of time off. I'd be off for a few weeks or even months, then back for a few months, then off again. It wasn't really fair for my colleagues. Each time I was off, the harder it was to go back. When you feel like you've let people down it eats away at your confidence and self esteem.

I'm sure if I didn't work for the NHS I'd have been out a lot sooner. They have to follow procedures and, well I can't fault how they handled that side of it.They have tried their hardest to keep me at work but this time they couldn't do any more. 

We're only a small team and I've known all my workmates for years. That was a great help in the beginning but as time went on I wished I worked somewhere where no one knew me. I felt towards the end that they were analysing every little thing I did and blaming it on me being bipolar. Maybe thats not the case but thats what it felt like. I couldn't be in a really "good " mood without being labelled high and if I was not very happy one day then I was obviously depressed. Someone had a fall when I was in charge and it turned into a huge deal.Apparently I acted out of character and didn't do what they thought I'd do. In the end it was deemed that I'd done nothing wrong and it was an accident.  I am 100% certain if I didn't have bipolar it would have been dealt with completely differently. I can't blame them but I never felt comfortable at work again. Apart from working directly with clients I've pretty much hated every minute of it for months. 

I know that I'd still be good at my job if given the chance. When I'm well I know I can do it. I just can't cope with all the uncertainty and unpredictability . I need routine.

I don't  know what I'll do now. They have three months to try and find me something suitable within the organisation...if not that's it. I don't rate my chances of finding much else with my record. I need to work. I need to earn money and I need to have a purpose. It's a worrying time.

I don't want to go home

When I was married I loved going home. I loved being at home on my own, pottering about. There's nothing better after a holiday than opening your own front door and then climbing into your own bed. 

Even though I love my flat there are times when the thought of going back there, after a day out, terrifies me. It's the silence. If you live with someone even if they're not there , they have a presence. That's what you don't get when you live alone. 

When I was married I craved time alone, now I'm single I crave company. 

When you're single, yes you can do what you like, when you like and how you like but nothing can take away that feeling of being totally on your own. What if I dropped down dead in the middle of the night and no one found me for days? 

It's always worse when I've been having a really good time , then it stops and I'm reminded that I'm on my own. Then I start worrying about the future and what will happen to me. That's when I really miss being in a relationship. Having said that I wouldn't want to be with someone just for the sake of it. If I end up with someone it will be because I'm in love not because I'm lonely, although there's a lot to be said for companionship.  

I do get lonely. Sometimes it's painful. Sometimes I feel lonely even when I'm surrounded by people. It's not that I don't have friends. It's about missing that closeness. Especially physical contact...I don't mean sex...I mean holding hands or a cuddle. I mean when you're lying next to someone and you can hear them breathe and you start to breathe in time with them. I mean feeling safe because someone is just there. 

When I listen to couples moaning and wishing they had "freedom" , I wish they could feel what it's like for a few days. Then they might appreciate what they've got. 

How annoying 

Sometimes I feel really guilty when people are trying to be nice to me and all I keep thinking is fuck off and leave me alone. It always seems to be people I'm really close too and especially my Mum. I don't know why because I love my Mum. She's been the best Mum anyone could wish for, so why when she's doing something nice for me do I want to scream. It's not so bad with my Dad but then I always was a Daddy's girl. 

Maybe it is true, that you end up hurting those closest to you. I always get it into my head that they just " don't get it" and it makes me cross. I actually think my Mum does get it. It's me, I get very defensive. My Mum and Dad are getting old and I don't want to give them more hassle so I try to keep them shielded from it all. They seem to know anyway. That's what you call fantastic parents. 

Back to what I was talking about in the first place. 

There are times when I have felt really aggressive but I'm not a violent person, it's not in my nature. I'm more likely to scream obscenities or throw something. Most of the time it's just there in my thoughts. I'll be constantly moaning in my head. Everything and everybody is annoying and stupid!  Occasionally it slips out...I was in the car park and a very large lady just left her trolley in the parking spot. I meant to think it but I said it out loud..." You stupid fucking lazy fat cow" ...whoops. That often happens when I'm in that frame of mind. My thoughts just slip out! 

I don't want to hurt others but I have hurt myself to get out of doing something I can't face. I once burnt my hand with boiling water so I didn't have to go into work . That way I had a proper reason. At the time I didn't think I could say being depressed was a " proper" reason to take time off. I did it so I didn't have to lie. I once punched a wall so I didn't have to go out. It's not something I've done often thank goodness. Now I know it's ok to tell the truth about my bipolar...most of the time. Sometimes I want people to think I'm fine when I know I'm not.  

Is beauty only skin deep?

If you're with someone, as you get older you just accept the way they change. My ex had varicose veins, a big belly and eczema on his hands, hehehe. He didn't have those things when I met him but because I loved him it didn't seem to matter. It's different when you're single . If I met a guy with a fat gut I probably wouldn't even get to know him because it would be a turn off straight away. I guess that makes me a bit shallow. 

Same with me. Running around naked even though I've got cellulite and stretch marks ( lol and a list of other things) never bothered me with my ex and he never seemed worried. I wouldn't dare go naked in front of anyone else. It has to be dim lights and sexy undies! 

It's only in the last few months that ageing has really bothered me. When I look in the mirror I feel that all the trauma of the past 5 years has really taken its toll. When I was forty I was probably the fittest I'd been in my entire life. I felt good and when I looked in the mirror it made me smile. I know I was pretty manic at that time so maybe I wasn't as great as I thought. I guess how I perceive myself relates to my moods too..... its always been from one extreme to another. I doubt that's much different to most women. That's one good thing about being a bit high, I don't worry about wrinkles and jiggly bits....because I'm bloody lovely! Lol. 

  Of course when I'm down, every little flaw is a major defect in my eyes....it's a pretty miserable state to be in. I try not to even go anywhere near a mirror, let alone look in it. I feel ugly and unattractive. Every single bit of myself has something wrong.

I'm sure that when I get done up to go out I probably look pretty good for my age. People tell me I look younger and if I catch it right can look quite attractive. It's when you strip it all bare that it exposes the flaws. 

Nature has a nasty side. Just as we get older and start feeling more confident and at ease with ourselves she starts chipping away at it, making us start to feel self conscious and vulnerable just like when we were young. 

I guess you can't  stop the ageing process. All you can do is make the best of what you've got. I admire women who are "comfortable in their own skin". I wish I could be like that all of the time and not just when I'm high. 

Still, when it really comes down to it, it's what's inside that matters most. 

I'm.going to have a rest from my blog for a few days. I'm tired.
I feel a bit overwhelmed by it all.

Diagnosis

I was officially diagnosed with Bipolar Disorder in 2010....4years after I first asked for help. 

In hindsight , I can see  that I've always had it but nothing extreme enough to be a problem.

Lol, I've had the nickname Scatty since school . It amuses me the number of people who have no idea that it's my nickname, call me scatty. Hahahaha it must be true. 

I've always been an " up and down" person. My moods never caused anything bad enough to warrant me seeking medical help. Whenever I was high people thought I was just fun loving and full of life. When I was low I usually managed to keep it to myself and work my way through it.

Sometimes everything seems to come at once and I hit a bad patch , which sent me out of control. 

We had moved into a house that needed gutting. My ex had changed jobs and was working in Ely, which meant he was hardly ever there. His mum was ill and I had to look after her. My job as a tutor was getting more and more time consuming. My son was doing drugs and my ex had chucked him out. I'd put on weight, so felt like shit and my periods were up the shoot !  I guess all that combined made me depressed

The first time I went to the doctors he gave me Prozac. That was the start of it. I've since learned that giving someone with bipolar an antidepressant on its own can kick start a manic episode..... and that's exactly what happened. Well, hypomania ( not quite so bad ) . I felt amazing . I was running around like a headless chicken. I thought everything was hilarious. I didn't sleep for a week and I wasn't tired. I drove like a lunatic . I remember driving at 90mph into Great Bentley and getting my car airborne ...no way would I try and do that now. 

I didn't think anything was really wrong. My ex insisted on taking me back to the doctors. I thought it was so funny sat in the doctors, I  laughed so much I ended up crying. I suppose it must have been really embarrassing for my husband. 

So then the real trouble started. I don't remember too much. I was miserable then happy, full of energy then exhausted. I didn't sleep for days then slept for days on end. I seemed to go from one extreme to the other....up and down like a yoyo. I really couldn't seem to help it. It was at least a year before I got to see a psychiatrist. She diagnosed,  Bipolar3 ..... Bipolar brought on by medication, then I was diagnosed as being in a " mixed state" lol well I was definitely in  a bloody state. Then came months and months of one medication then another. One lot of shitty side effects after another and only brief spells of feeling normal. I feel like I lost months and months of my life. I only managed work for brief periods.

Sometimes I really didn't give a fuck and sometimes I felt so scared .

My husband came to all my appointments to start but that gradually dwindled. He was at home less and less and we pretty much never saw each other.

When I was finally given a proper diagnosis and assigned a care-coordinator ( a mental health nurse) it was such a relief. I was glad I had bipolar......at least I had a reason for how I'd been. Sadly it was too late for my marriage. 

It was only when I was in hospital that they managed to sort out medication that suits me. I don't think I could survive without  my meds . 

The treatment I get now is fantastic.

Statistics show that it can take up to 13 years to get a proper diagnosis . I guess I'm one of the lucky ones. 

The Nuthouse

Sorry, that's a very politically incorrect thing to call it but I have to keep it a bit light-hearted. There's a real stigma attached to having a mental illness and an even bigger one attached to being so bad you have to go into a psychiatric unit. Most people I know call it the nuthouse or loony bin. Terrible really in this day and age! I find it funny. I always think of " One Flew Over The Cuckoos Nest " even though its nothing like that. Well,  not where I went anyway.

When I was discharged back home from the general hospital after my suicide attempt I had an appointment to see a psychiatrist the next day. I didn't want to go but I didn't want to make waves. All I wanted to do was to be left alone.

The psychiatrist was nice enough. I can't remember how it all came about but it just seemed out of the blue him suggesting I go and stay on the psychiatric ward for a few days. I said absolutely not, no way. How ridiculous . I know I did what I did but the nuthouse? No way. 

What came next shocked me more. He said I could go in voluntarily but if I didn't he would have me sectioned. So I had no fucking choice. 

I was allowed to go home and get some clothes and bits but I was accompanied . Probably in case I did a runner. 

For the first time I realised how serious trying to take your own life is. 

As I walked onto the ward I wished I was dead. How low could it get. My life was a disaster and I couldn't even make a proper job of ending it. I was scared and so alone. 

Someone showed me to my room. I shut myself in and closed the curtain on the window in the door. Two seconds later a nurse walked in, without knocking and opened it. " We need to keep that open " she said and walked out. Great, not even any privacy. I sat in the chair and cried and cried and cried.

It's amazing how quickly you get institutionalised and into a routine. Breakfast, therapy, lunch, free time , dinner, visiting, medication, bed. 

I had a named nurse who explained everything to me and in all honesty after a few days I felt quite safe. I liked the routine and I liked being looked after but I didn't like the feeling that I was a prisoner. Of course I'm sure I could have left if I really wanted to but it wasn't worth all the fuss.

The other patients were ok. Some were totally off the wall and some seemed like there was nothing wrong. There was only one incident that scared me. A young girl was trying to escape and bit one of the nurses. There were people of all ages and all walks of life. Mental illness is not choosy! 

There were some bizarre things going on. Lol they got me tearing up bits of tissue paper to make a collage....like in infants school.

I played table tennis , joined in with a quiz, drew pictures and smoked about a million cigarettes.

I wouldn't let anyone visit apart from my best friend and one of her sons. I didn't want people seeing me in there and I was starting to feel ashamed of what I'd done.

They let my sister come and take me out for the day. I loved that. It was the worst thing going back again and leaving her. 

The aim of my treatment was to get my medication sorted and to ensure that I wasn't going to try and kill myself again. In my mind I couldn't say if I'd do it again but I made sure every time I saw the psychiatrist I told him I was fine.

I can't remember how long I was in there for but when they said I could go home I acted pleased. The truth was by then I didn't want to go home and be on my own. 

It really wasn't that bad and it really did do me good. 

Sometimes when I feel really down and when things are getting too much, I wish I could go back.

 I've got no idea what I'm on about today.

Please dont think I'm trying for the sympathy vote...I'm really not. I'm just trying to explain. In general people dont really understand that its a constant battle to keep well when you've got something like bipolar.They look at me and think "oh shes ok now" and then get shocked when I have a little blip. When I was in hospital I thought my life was over. I thought I'd lost everything that was worth having in life. I dont feel like that now. I've managed to get myself back to a point where I can have a life thats actually worth living but it still takes effort. I'm not really sure what I'm trying to say here...most people don't understand. I have got to be careful, I cant afford to let myself get ill again which is why I need to think about what I do nearly all of the time.

 Sometimes I am a bit of a loud mouth , stupid cow. I know I act like an idiot. I'm forever saying things then wishing I could " unsay" it.Sometimes I cringe when I think about it.  I go on a bit and start talking crap...I cant seem to stop it. I often talk to random people and I know they are probably looking at me and thinking " nutter". Its because when I've got a lot going on and when I'm a bit emotionally charged I get this thing called "racing thoughts", another one of the joys of Bipolar. Its difficult to explain but its probably no different to anyone when they've got a lot going on in their head just maybe a lot more intense. Its like I'm constantly talking in my head and cant be quiet. I get all this random stuff racing around and it is pretty draining. Its hard to concentrate and virtually impossible to switch off. I do find it helpful to just write stuff down.  I've already written a novel virtually...then deleted it. I've got post it notes all over the flat too...its quite funny when I read what's on them, sometimes a bit sad too. The thing is I know whats going on and am dealing with it. Its when I don't realise it that it becomes a major problem.

 Providing I try and stay on it I can keep myself well....take my medication, don't drink or do drugs, eat properly, get enough sleep, live like a saint! Yawn. The thing is though, I don't always realise I'm not so good until I'm better ! Then I worry about what I was like. 

I'm not sure if I've just written a load of twaddle or something quite sensible.

My Son.....a heroin addict

So on Mothers Day I didn't even get a text. I wasn't expecting a card or present...just a few words to let me know everything was ok would have made me happy. For all I knew he could have been dead.

Writing about my son has to be the hardest thing. 

I loved him from the second I knew I was pregnant. I wasn't in a position to have a baby but he was all I ever wanted. Maybe I was being selfish, I don't know, but he was my number one priority.

I know all Mums say it but he really was the most beautiful baby. Even though I was a single mother with no money I found it easy and such a joy. I didn't worry about a thing.

He never caused me any grief until he went to the senior school. He changed from happy go lucky to moody. I thought it was just normal teenage angst and even though he didn't do bugger all at school the fact he never got into any real trouble made me think he was just a normal teenage boy.

When he got his first job fixing caravans I was as  proud as any mother. Ok, so it wasn't the best job in the world but it was a start. He wasn't lazy like some of his friends.

I never noticed anything to make me suspect he was using drugs until he lost his job and I found the letter saying why....moody, bad time- keeping, lazy. He told me he occasionally smoked a bit of weed and I believed it. I thought that was ok and thats what they all did at that age.In hindsight I should have done something then....what, I have no idea. 

He went through more jobs and phases of being up and down. I sometimes think he's probably got bipolar like me but at that time it wasn't something I knew or even thought about.

I remember when he came home one night. He was about twenty. I could always tell when he wanted to talk to me. I went and sat on his bed and he just started sobbing. He said he'd been using cocaine and he couldn't stop it. I had no idea what to do but I promised I'd help.

I sat up all night on the Internet. By morning I thought I was an expert and he'd decided that he didn't have a problem after all.

 I rang FRANK ...what a waste of time. I rang the charity called Open Road and got an appointment to go and see them. My ex did come but under duress. They were nice enough but they couldn't tell me what to do. All they kept saying was that the more help we gave him the more we were enabling him to do drugs. I tried NEEDAS , the NHS drug advisory service. They were even less helpful. He had to go to them himself or they were powerless. I tried the police and they couldn't do a thing either. 

Time went on and he seemed ok , so I put it down to a phase. How stupid.When he was ok he was the loveliest most charming, hard working and polite young man. People liked him, they still do. Sometimes I suspected something but couldn't prove it so hoped it would go away. When he was 23 things started to become obvious. He was skinny, moody and not himself. Things started to go missing. My Nan's ring, my exes wedding ring, money. His boss started complaining and sacked him. He admitted to me that he'd moved on to heroin. I was devastated. 

My beautiful boy was addicted to the most devastating evil drug there is. 

This time he said he wanted help. I took him to NEEDAS but they couldn't get him an appointment for three days. What came next was the most shocking thing I've ever heard. They advised me to buy him heroin until he could be seen. Me having to buy my own son heroin. I did it and it was one of the worst things I've ever done in my entire life. 

So started the cycle of going on and off drugs. There's so much more to it than I want to say right now. It's been so complicated. Trying to get him into rehab, him not wanting to, using one substitute or another. It's been going on for four years. He's on methadone now, which in my eyes is as bad as heroin. I don't think the system has really helped him, yet he has to take responsibility for his own actions. He still uses heroin. Me being ill probably didn't help him but I really did try my best. I've offered to pay to get him into rehab but unless he's ready and willing it will be a waste.
He lives with his girlfriend, who I suspect uses drugs too. They live in a tip, with no jobs and no money. I help where I can but I have to let them get on with it. He's not a child anymore. 

He is not a bad person. He's not scum like some of them and some really are despicable. He wouldn't intentionally hurt anyone.  I know he loves me... I can see it in his face. I still love him and though I
don't really understand, I know its nothing to do with me. I don't blame him. He had the same chances as every other kid, if not more. Something inside must make a person become an addict. It just breaks my heart that he will probably die before I do if he doesn't do something soon.

If I could swap places with him and give him a life, I really would.

Some people might think I'm wrong for putting this on here. Maybe I am but I guess I'm hoping he'll read it one day and it will shock him into doing something. I don't know.