Purple hair and a growth spurt.

My partner doesn’t like my dad. Never really mentioned this in previous posts but he’s never really liked him. It’s been getting worse though recently. My dad is pretty petty. An example is that I came home having forgot the bread he asked for, I sincerely apologised but he still had to make nasty comments about it and then gave me silent treatment for a bit before going out to pick my brother up and then when he came back, everything was better. I later explained to him that I forgot because my daughter was crying due to reflux and being hungry and the only way I could settle her was walking and bouncing the pram. He told me “not to use her as an excuse”. Don’t need an excuse, that’s what happened.

The next day we were going on a walk again and asked if he wanted anything. He started on about the bread again and I said “I’ll get you the bloody bread and hit you with it just for principal”. Before I left I said to him: “seriously though, do you want anything?” And he said no. It’s pretty obvious where this is going. When I got back, he asked where the bread is.

I think one of the worst things he’s done recently is comparing the fact I was struggling as when he was 22 he had 3 kids to look after. Firstly, only one was his and a newborn and the other two were his step kids. Secondly, you can’t compare situations like that. Thirdly, why did he have to make me feel so bad? I struggle with one but he can cope with three. Makes me feel shit.

My partner avoids him, if he can. I’ve begun to avoid him. My daughter is going through the 3-6 week growth spurt marked by being more fussy, less sleep, eating more and just generally being different from herself. I spent all night awake last night (except about an hour at about 6am until 7am) feeding her as she kept coming off, crying partly due to reflux and partly just fussy. The reflux means she needs gaviscon (a kind of antacid) and you can give it through a little medicine injector straight into their mouth but I know she’ll spit it out so we mix it in expressed milk. I came down stairs to get some of the expressed milk at about 10am and I usually, if I need to do something, give my daughter to my dad and do it but he was making tea (so boiling water) and dealing with my brother’s uniform and other stuff and she was very fussy, so I decided just to struggle one handed.

My dad then made a comment about how I usually get him to hold her and I said “you were making tea, with boiling water!” and honestly, I was tired and just annoyed and rather than feed her the milk downstairs like I usually would do, I just went off upstairs.

I think my biggest source of stress isn’t my month old baby but my dad. He likes to put me down, make me feel bad, use the silent treatment on me. Honestly, I’m pretty sure this is why I’m depressed. Also would bet that’s why my partner is depressed.

Add my depression to my current body issues and has my daughter got some fucked up parents? Due to breastfeeding I’ve currently hit DD boobs. Awesome. Also gone down to an 8-1o UK size waist (tend to have to get 10-12 though due to my boobs). I actually haven’t got stretch marks really from pregnancy but I’m feeling so down about my body, as far as I’m concerned, I’m fat and ugly and so to cheer myself up, my partner dyed my hair purple and it came out amazing if I do say so myself. My brother liked it. My dad just shrugged… He’s always one for the confident boosters. We’re still looking to move and we really want to be out by Christmas but it isn’t looking like that’ll happen any time soon.


Baby’s First Month

The first month has been rough. Today my daughter is a month old and it’s been a tough experience. My partner went back to work on Tuesday and so for the last 3 days I’ve been looking after my daughter on my own.

In all honesty, I spent most of my partners paternity leave secretly pissed off. He took a month off (two weeks paternity and two weeks holiday unlike most dads who just take paternity) to help in case I developed mental health issues. One of the biggest triggers to that is lack of sleep but I found myself with majority of the night shifts and sleeping 1-4 hours a day. My partner in that whole month maybe did 3 night shifts and that includes the first night in the hospital where I was in too much pain to walk or stand. The next was a few days later and there was an odd one during that month. That’s because the night he did it out the hospital (where he was fairly caught up on sleep) in the first week, he got annoyed and told her to shut up and later admitted he had been feeling down about everything and it sounded like he was describing postnatal depression. I could cope with less sleep so I took over.

When she was 8 days old, we took her to see my partner (GC) family. I was working on very little sleep and we spent 1 and a half to 3 hours at 3 different houses with his family. The first house I coped well, actually enjoyed it despite the fact it was his SIL. Second house was his sister who wouldn’t give me the baby back for the time we were there except for a feed. Her kids held the baby which was nice. But there was barely any talking so my partner found it boring. We then went up to his aunties.

Everyone was forewarned we were coming up.

We came up and she had her at least 6 cats in the same room as where myself, her, my daughter and partner had to sit. The cats getting cat hair everywhere and jumping in the pram. Despite the fact she’d promised if we came over, the cats would be out the way. So I was pretty angry and then one of the cats snared my jeans (which doesn’t sound like a big deal but they’re the only ones that fit well so don’t need them ruined). Coupled with the lack of sleep, postpartum pain, lack of food and drink, how angry I was and the fact I hadn’t actually held my daughter in about 4 hours. I just didn’t want to hold her. I feel horrible about that but it’s true. I didn’t want her near me I felt so down and like the bond between us had gone. Whenever my partner handed her to me I passed her off back to him or just held her like Rachel did Ross’ son in FRIENDS.

When we got home, rather than ask how I’d like to feed my child, he went and used one of the bottles of expressed milk. I went upstairs, but angered myself and came back down and told him if he thinks I’m doing such a bad job he can do it all and I’ll move the moses basket to his side of the bed. He told me he didn’t think I was doing a bad job but we should move the basket. So I went upstairs and chucked the basket onto his side. Laid down for a few minutes and then just got up and walked out of the house.

I never told my partner I thought about getting on the bus or the train and just not coming back. I just walked down to the shops with half working headphones and brought a ribena before heading back. I was gone about half an hour and as I was heading back GC met me and I told him off for coming – “arent I allowed to go and get a drink without being hassled”. GC tried to talk to me but I didn’t want to hear it. We came home and I just went to bed, rushing past my daughter. GC followed me up and we talked. I can’t remember what was said. All I remember was ending up crying because I wanted my daughter and ended up cuddling her most of the night.

I had a few wobbles but it was easier with my partner taking over the mornings and getting some sleep without waking, worrying if my kid is okay. I don’t think I truly appreciated it until he went back to work. I also don’t think the added stress of trying to not wake him up helps.

But since he went back to work, the tearful episodes have increased. I’ve felt more overwhelmed and upset, overprotective, sad… I guess depressed. I don’t know if it’s ‘normal’ depression or postnatal depression but I’m really struggling.

27 weeks: pregnancy and medication

I had an appointment with the perinatal psychiatrist recently. I’d recently got discharged from my old mental health team and am now with them and again I have a psychiatrist and a community psychiatric nurse. The first opinion I had of my new psychiatrist was that I didn’t have one. When I told people my opinion of her after the first meeting I said that she hadn’t really left much of an impression – good opinions take a while to form whilst bad ones of someone can take an instant. But I had some faith she’d do the job.

My new CPN  I didn’t much like. She said that everything I was experiencing with my mood was normal when I knew that it wasn’t and she also made me feel pretty bad for not wanting to do antenatal classes. I got invited to some a few weeks back, but I have since been umming and ahhing over whether to do it for numerous reasons but involving the fact that it was at the old youth group centre I used to go to and I didn’t want to bump into the old youth group leaders with their judgmental opinions about a 19 year old getting pregnant. But also another reason is that I had been feeling disconnected to the baby and that I didn’t want to spend an hour or so being reminded of the fact that I was. Plus antenatal classes haven’t always been a regular thing for pregnant women to attend and women have had babies just fine without them.

Another thing she said that annoyed me was that it didn’t matter if I was ill because I could get someone else to look after the baby. It’s true, I have my dad and the father of my baby but if it doesn’t matter whether I’m there for the baby, why am I even bothering to get better? After cooling off from the appointment I realised how she actually meant it but seriously? You work in this profession, you HAVE to know how to word this properly.

But the thing I want to talk about is my second appointment with the perinatal psychiatrist. I get called in and she has basically forgotten who I am which isn’t necessarily bad except when she got things wrong about my life e.g. she said I lived in a studio apartment when I live in a 4 bedroom house with overcrowding issues and I then corrected her, she actually argued with me and told me I was wrong… I have to live there everyday, I know exactly where I live.

She then was reading the appointment notes from the new CPN and she told me that “wanting to cut the baby out” was not normal – which I knew. Then went onto imply I wanted to hurt the baby except I’ve never had any intention of hurting the baby. Hurting myself, yes. Hurting the baby, never. She said if I’m having these thoughts and feeling depressed (and I am but only every so often and I haven’t actually felt that depressed in a while) then I needed to go back on medication whilst pregnant. I’ve always been against it. I don’t judge anyone who does, I really don’t. Every situation is different. But I know that I’m sensitive to side effects, I know I can handle the low moods as they are every so often, I don’t think taking antidepressants (as were the only medication mentioned at the time) is wise for an unborn baby to be exposed to.

But rather than talking rationally about my fears and answering questions she snapped at me telling me I needed the antidepressants and when I said to her about being bipolar and that JUST being on anti-depressants could cause mania or like last time, rapid cycling moods. That would be way worse than what’s going on now. She didn’t really give me much of an answer, just that she’d talk to my old psychiatrist (whom never actually prescribed antidepressants alone) and that if need be a mood stablizer would be added.

To be honest, when medication was mentioned way back in the first appointment, I researched what people said and yes the antidepressants have been found, in recent studies, to have minimal risks to the baby (so not completely risk free like she tried to make out and when I asked about the minimal risks, she had no answers for me) but mood stablizers are very dependent on which ones and even then the research is very split between the risks to an unborn baby even in the third trimester (everyone agrees that no meds of these sort should be taken in the first trimester).

But the fact I don’t like her isn’t based so much on the her different opinion on medications and stuff, it’s that she had very little respect for me. Wouldn’t discuss options, just told me what I had to do and several times implied that if I didn’t follow her opinions I was going to be a bad mum. So when she handed me a piece of paper to take to reception to make another appointment, I just walked out and didn’t make one.

I moaned to my dad; ranted. Then GC phoned me when my dad went to pick up my brother but could only stay on the phone for 5 minutes and once he hung up, I just balled my eyes out. I felt so guilty and bad and just cried. Until I hit this point where I got pissed off. Being  pregnant hasn’t been easy for me – physically or mentally but I’m doing better now. I actually have formed a connection with my child now (which if she actually let me speak I could have said) but even so still experience lightheadedness, feeling faint (up to the point of passing out), nausea – all sorts of stuff that make pregnancy still difficult but I’m doing well with it now and coming out of a perinatal psychiatric appointment feeling worse about myself as a mother is not something I think is good and is kinda the opposite reason why I go.

That afternoon, the CPN called me but it was on an unknown number and I wasn’t in the mood so ignored it, she left a message asking if I could call her back to confirm an appointment for the 6th of May. I haven’t called her back. Partly because I just don’t want to but also because she asked me my preferred method of contact and I said text and she calls me so I’m just waiting to see if she calls me back.

All in all, I’m very underwhelmed by the perinatal team and regret being changed to them.

Busy week

I find it funny as you get older your opinion on things change. For example I used to love when the holidays came up at school but now I don’t want the school’s on holiday because SIL1 is about more and if I go into town before 4pm, town is full of teenagers.

Last week was half term. I liked it because I was given the opportunity to hang out with my brother. I didn’t really know what I was going to do though because any movement I make in the morning SIL1 would have commented on and it would have stressed me out and my dad wasn’t picking me up because he wasn’t coming into town. He offered to pick me and GC up every morning, take him to work and me back to his. He did which was awesome. The week in that respect actually worked out really well.

Monday, GC had the dentist and had a surprise tooth out (we thought it was just for an x-ray). Tuesday, I had the dentist which I am glad for because my gums have been bleeding a little bit and the wisdom tooth that got a cavity because I couldn’t brush it due to it not coming through the gum surface yet has began to come through and is sensitive but thankfully my teeth were fine and I’ve gone from an appointment every 6 months to one every year. On Wednesday I had an appointment with my psych nurse. Thursday, I had a baby first aid course from 9am until midday and GC had the dentist again later in the day for another tooth out. The baby first aid course went really well, I passed but GC had given me a cold which weakened immune system and has opened me up to an ear infection and tonsilititus. But thankfully Friday and the weekend I can rest.

I try not to get too busy in one week and only have one big thing per week. But I seem to manage to have a week or fornight free and then just coincidentally book everything in the one week. Sometimes I like it because it gets rid of the stress in just one swoop with no weekend of worrying but other times I feel very tired or sick and wish I had a few days to recover.

Though Monday I had a lot more energy to move about. Instead of napping during the day, I got up and sorted of the bed I would be living in for the next few months. That includes moving light furniture, tidying the floor, unpacking clothes and basically just moving things around. But for the last few nights I’ve been having pretty intense nightmares so I’ve not been sleeping too well. It does begin to add up. I’ve found myself being more snappy and irritable than usual which isn’t necessarily just down to no sleep, add in pregnancy and that’s not exactly a recipe I’m happy about.

I have an appointment for the 15th March with the perinatal mental health clinic. I know they’re the people who help you before the birth (as well as for a year after) with mental health but that’s pretty much it. I googled the service but only found the local address. When on the phone with them they told me they would send me a questionnaire but the paper work they sent me was more just about correspondence rather than a mood questionnaire.

The physical aspect of the pregnancy varies. Sometimes I feel not too bad, a bit of energy and a more positive outlook on pregnancy and the baby and how both of those things relate to myself. Other times I feel quite depressed. I get told it’s normal to feel that way, that worries such as “am I going to be a good mother?” and “is the baby going to be okay with me as it’s mum?” and such doubts like that. They say that normal and I do believe to an extent it has to be but it’s gotten so bad that I’ve debated getting rid of the baby. I never would because I know I would regret it and when I feel it’s heartbeat or the baby moving, I know I care and probably even love the baby but I still feel bad about those thoughts and the fact that sometimes I feel very disconnected with the baby.

A doctor told me once to think of the baby as a parasite, taking everything I need and making me sick and how would I be expected to always love something like that. You put it like that and I understand why they aren’t so worried but I am worried and surely that has to count for something.


Yesterday, I questioned how much stress is too much stress for the baby? The events that caused this were pretty mundane.

I finished yesterday’s blog on the bus and only had about a paragraph to write so it didn’t take me that long. I rarely check facebook again once I am out of the house because it’s pretty bleak usually on there and I actually dislike a lot of people on there but to stop arguments I couldn’t unfriend them.

But after I finished yesterday’s blog I went back on facebook and SIL1 had literally waited until the moment I walked out the door. I mean literally the moment to post a status on facebook saying that GC and I (her actual phrasing was ‘other people in the house’) don’t clean up after ourselves; expect her to do it; it upsets her. Basically blaming us. Now number 1, I have not even been on that side of the house since before Christmas so I don’t know what mess I was supposed to have made and number 2, my partner doesn’t even go on that side much. Just to the kitchen where he cooks (because I literally cannot face cooking my own meals) but I know he cleans up after himself. And last night’s plates? They were in our room because she does shit like this or bitches about it if we leave it by the sink to clean the next day.

So I wanted to go through the roof. I wanted to reply to her status saying how I don’t even go on that side of the house and she knows that because she always complains about it. How GC always cleans up after himself. How she doesn’t work, isn’t actually a “fully time mommy” like she puts on her facebook employment bit because her child goes to school. She pretty much has at least 5 and a half hours where she could clean the house. But she doesn’t. How the garden was a tip until very recently filled with rubbish bags and furniture because nobody could be bothered to drag it to the curb. She goes to the gym, yes but she didn’t yesterday and then will spend the rest of the day complaining about all her ‘aches and pains’ that are worse than anyone elses. But I know GC didn’t want me to say anything. I sat on the bus for a few minutes trying to figure out what I wanted to do. I needed to rant. I needed to get it off my chest.

I opened the wordpress app to rant again. But closed it down thinking it too petty. GC was at work and I knew I had 15 minutes until he was on break and I figured I could send a bunch of ranting texts before he got on break and see if I felt calmed down afterwards. He went on his break early I figured because he began texting me. My dad knowing about this situation with SIL1 has said I always have a place with him and so has GC if he wants it. But GC has turned it down, saying it’s too far from work. My dad did offer to take him but I get his point, he probably doesn’t want to put my dad out so much. I as a semi-joke said “why don’t we move in with my dad?” and GC said “I’d understand if you needed to”. Anyway, we spoke some more and I said how this stress that she was causing wasn’t good for the baby and GC said something and if you took it the wrong way it could have implied that it was my fault for getting stressed out over something so trivial. So I got angry at him. Told him I can only do so much to help this baby, I know everyone thinks I’m doing a bad job, but you try it. Etc. Then he rang me, we argued more and I hung up saying I was waiting for the bus.

I actually calmed down on the bus, I just retreated to my fantasy world. But I did begin to wonder about the stress. Now firstly, I’m unmedicated at the moment. Due to the problems with the lithium I was taken off that and probably for only 1-2 weeks of the pregnancy I was on the lowest doses of lamotrigine and prozac but I took myself off those after finding out I was pregnant. The last thing I need right now is stress. We said we’d revise meds if need be in the 2nd trimester. I’ve been feeling a little depressed on and off anyway and I really don’t need unnecessary stress triggering any bipolar or even bpd stuff for me.

I began to wonder if moving to my dad’s was seriously the best decision and I know in the back of my head it is. At this time I was still mad at GC, I did re-read our text argument during this time and realise that actually I had just read too much into it. But I was still pissed that he wouldn’t say anything because his brother is his boss which I get but still.

I got worked up again when I got into my dad’s car. I know I shouldn’t have but I ranted for at least an hour straight but always ended back to ranting if we changed the topic. I was pissed. GC wanted to ring me at lunch but I didn’t want to talk.

I eventually went in my room and watch criminal minds and I began thinking as I was watching about what I should do. If I moved back to my dads, I wouldn’t have to leave the house everyday and could stay in bed watching criminal minds like I really, really want to do. Just for one day, a binge. I wouldn’t have the stress of her moaning literally all the time. I could sleep past 8:30am. All stuff that is good for the baby.

If I do move back though, I wouldn’t see the person I love and the father of my child. 

I mean staying or leaving would be unnecessary stress but I honestly don’t know which trade off is worse.

GC and I texted when he was out of work and he was under the impression (due to what I’d said that was pretty ambiguous) I wouldn’t be coming home last night. I was on the bus home when he finally realised that I was. He’d been pretty upset about the fact I wasn’t all day. I realised then just how unhappy he’d be if I did leave and I knew I wouldn’t be happy.

So I left it like this: if SIL1 does one more thing to stress me out then for the sake of the baby and my mental health I’m going back to my dads.

I still don’t know which thing is really the better option. It’s a very difficult situation.


I can safely say lithium is helping. Unfortunately though it brings to light the fact a lot of other unhealthy facets such as the paranoia and dissociation are not going to be cured by the lithium. The lithium is still making my thyroid unwell and have yet to get that treated and you may be wondering why, after all this time, is no treatments being made? I had another blood test after the blog post and had to wait for the results of that for about two weeks because there was no copy sent to the doctor, only the psychiatrist and it wasn’t until we saw the community psychiatric nurse (CPN) that i actually got my results and lo and behold, my hypothyroidism is worse. But they wouldn’t treat it until the psychiatrist spent an extra two weeks looking at past blood tests trying to figure out why. I mean the why is great but at this point in time just treat the illness. But apparently I will have to go for endocrinology tests as well. So physically I have been worse than ever. I mean I have energy but I just am in pain a lot of the time with my joints, being cold etc. It’s awful.

The improvement in my mood coupled with the work with the groups I’m with, my confidence also boosted which is great but left me open to other issues. For example, increase in confidence means I’ve been more inclined to go out and contact people. I spent time with EH on Easter and we’ve got unofficial plans to go to London with our brothers and her parents. But it was actually that Sunday that caused problems. As EH’s dad drove into her drive, there were a group of people outside and one of the was RH who I wrote about several years ago who had a crush on my then best friend. Well we were friends then too and I messaged him saying: “saw you nerd B)” and that led to a discussion of when how etc and we agreed to make up and I could rewrite what happened but long story short we went to second base and it was weird because he liked my best friend and now here he is, kissing me. But afterwards I was over the moon but this relationship my confidence opened up had now caused this massive source of stress for me.

The reason being I’m incredibly insecure and have invented all the reasons why he doesn’t like me and why he’s better off with someone else and that comes from my personality problems. I am mistrustful and needy of attention and whilst this is like 95% personality problems, it’s annoying. I don’t think I will let this relationship last very long because it’s causing me to have a lot of emotional issues.

In other news, I have plans with friends, have been on quite a residential but have been having some problems with my psychiatrist. But I’m trying to focus on my recovery so let’s stay away from psychiatrist talk.

I think the thing no one prepares you for when you begin recovering is actually how to manage it. For example the last time I was functioning to a moderately healthy degree was when I was 14 and navigating the change in maturity in yourself when you are well is difficult. When I was depressed I didn’t want to do anything and now I’m better I want to have friends and see them and I feel like I’m trying to make up for 4 lost years in that amount of time. I think had I been forced to enter adulthood and living alone and working whilst still bipolar I would have eventually managed to find some balance between social stuff and other things but for now I have this gap. This 6 month gap between when I have to buckle down and get serious over school and deciding what I want to and what I want carried on and getting myself back into a position where I have a trajectory. Yeah I suffer cognitive difficulties and still other issues such as paranoia etc but I need something that’s mine again.

Heart issues and hypothyroidism

Before I started lithium I had a blood test and ECG. Blood test was fine and ECG came back saying I had a short PR interval. I had another ECG after I started lithium and my PR interval had lengthened and I was told the lithium could do that. I had another ECG but the results got lost and then another one and I heard nothing about it until I get a letter saying that I needed to wait for a letter for a 24 hour ECG. Why??? Is what I wondered. My dad spoke to my psychiatrist and she said that the cardiologist had recommended it. When I had an appointment over a week ago I asked her what the problem actually is and do you know what she said to me? “Unspecific heart issue” WHAT?? So that’s a thing I have to wait for. She also later changed the opinion of the lithium causing this issue saying that it didn’t cause it but I don’t understand how my heart was okay off the lithium but now I have an issue…

This is kind of up in the air as I’ve been told that this 24 hour ECG is mainly so they get a clear picture of my heart in a day to see if these “hiccups” are normal. I don’t know.

In England, we have this thing called the lithium registry and what I was told was supposed to happen is they are supposed to send you a letter and a bag (to put your bloods in to get sent to the lithium registry lab) usually every 3 months but if your dose is upped you have it 5 days afterwards. So I had a blood test for 600mg and I got my labs sent to me. My level was 0.65 which isn’t high enough actually for ‘acute’ treatment but is in a range a psychiatrist wants it to be. Now my thyroid levels to explain in case you don’t know.

You have a pitutary gland in your brain which sends TSH (Thyroid Stimulating Hormone) to your thyroid to make your thyroid produce T3 and T4 hormones and T4 is the one that was measured in my blood test now TSH is usually higher when your T4 level is lower because your thyroid isn’t working well so the hormone is sent to try and get it working more and that is hypothyroidism. The opposite is true of hyperthyroidism – T4 high and TSH low.

So getting these results back in paper form with very little explanation. So I looked it up and I find out about hypothyroidism so I go to symptoms and the symptoms I had brushed off as being part of winter or a lithium side effect are actually hypothyroidism. For example, one of the first symptoms I got was sensitivity to cold. I was freezing all the time. Joint pain which also worsened my hand pain I’d gotten from other things but it worsened it. I’m pretty sure it’s also slowed my healing down. I hurt my toe a month ago by dropping a stool on it. I bruised the bone and cut the skin. It has been a literal month and the cut on my toe hasn’t even healed yet.

Now if you go on ANY website and look at the causes of hypothyroidism lithium is one of them. Lithium actually the number one example of a medication that causes hypothyroidism. So I asked my psychiatrist what we are going to do and she said basically that it happened too fast to be caused by the lithium but we’ll see what the level is next time.

Now here’s where I’m fucked around:

Heart: The psychiatrist sent my dad a letter saying that if we took this letter down the ECG department at the hospital they would fit the 24 hr ECG there and then. We went today and you can’t do that for 24 hr ECG so that was a waste of time and really frustrating because we could have booked the appointment over the phone last week. Now I have to wait until April.

Thyroid: The psychiatrist told us 5 days after a dose is upped we will get a letter from the lithium registry asking for another blood test. We didn’t get one so when we saw the psychiatric nurse she called the lithium registry who told us we weren’t going to have one until May (3 months) and so now I have to wait even longer for the psychiatrist to write a letter asking for a thyroid test which shouldn’t take long but she for some reason is taking very long with it.

If that test comes back with saying my hypothyroidism is the same or worse then I have to go to my GP and ask them what they think I should do.

So at the moment, my mental health is still kinda depressed with swings into irritability now and again but otherwise I just am really tired with no energy. Thanks lithium.


I went on a residential over the weekend as part of my work with the ‘next level voice group’ and I went through a lot of stages. I gave in my consent form kinda ad-lib in the hopes of hurrying up the youth worker I was waiting for as I felt a conversation about it would have taken up a lot of time and I was in a rush. Later, I realised just what I had signed up for and for a week or two alternated between anxiety and depression, I then got a little excited about it and then I got anxious about it again and that kind of continued.

I won’t bore you with all the details of the trip and what I learned but I’ll tell you my feelings to things that happened. Friday night wasn’t too bad because my room mate went to sleep pretty much when she got into bed (which was quite late since the workers decided to ignore the curfew they told us about) and I spent most of the night talking to my friend on skype plus I couldn’t sleep either.

Now once I had gotten a hold of the food situation I didn’t suffer so much from anxiety but I am a slow, messy, picky eater who also can’t eat a lot so I tended to not have a main or a starter after Friday night. I took part in the workshops and meetings but I can bet you I will get a label as “anti-social” because I decided not to sit downstairs for 3 hours at night talking to people I have nothing in common with. You bring me to a residential and I will do work but I won’t unnecessarily socialise with people. My socialising came from my friend on skype and my brother on whatsapp. Saturday night was particularly draining because my room mate had made a lot of friends and had got them all on snapchat and they were all snapchatting each other and I think I fell asleep before her but I woke up before her so it kinda worked out.

Sunday actually was a lot better because we didn’t need talk in anywhere but the workshop and at lunch I ran off to do a voice chat via skype with a friend (that lasted 45 mins and then when I got home it added up to about 8+ hours) and when I hung up to get in the taxi I had more confidence though I do find I have more confidence when I talk to someone who is like me. Someone who hates or would hate (if they were there) the situation the same as I would.

It wasn’t fun, I’m pretty sure a lot of the people there are bored of me or at least unsure of me (I know one girl there hates me, not that I care because she is a purposefully negative kind of person). Though I think I am proud of myself for doing it. There is another residential later in the year but I might come up with an excuse for that one.

The people weren’t generally nasty or awful to be around but I liked being in my room with my phone talking to people I had something in common with. Admittedly, I may not have given a lot of them the chance but I was happy with the decisions I made this weekend when it came to who I socialised with.

I recently had a blood test for lithium and my serum level is not at the therapeutic dose yet. It has however began to affect my thyroid or at least the levels are heading that way. I am borderline hypothyroidism, I think if the dose is upped again which it must because it’s not at a therapeutic dose yet. The paper I got suggested “thyroxine replacement” but who knows? I need to have an appointment with a doctor and I was supposed to see my psychiatric nurse yesterday (Tuesday) but she’s ill so I probably won’t see her until Thursday.

This week is half term so all groups are off, no getting up early to talk my brother to school. It is nice to chill for a bit especially after last weekend.

My mood has been on the lower side and I’ve been suicidal at times but I think I’ve been kinda out it mentally so not really registering my mood. Who knows?

I’m so sick of me.

I saw the psychiatrist on Friday and I should have wrote a post Friday night or Saturday but I haven’t the energy or the head space to. I haven’t now either so excuse all the probable problems with grammar and syntax and all other grammatical things that will probably make this post slightly illegible.

I kinda reached my point where I know WHAT my problems are but I don’t know how to solve them and that somewhat makes it worse as it’s not one of those problems you can easily fix. For example when I realised my nail biting, as a child, was an issue I painted my nails everyday to stop myself from biting them and eventually the habit died and I have long but ugly nails. In more recent examples I knew my problem was procrastinating and I made active steps to stop that when it came to school work but that was about 8 months ago. I can’t fix these problems. I cannot fix the fact that I take people’s neutrality as hostile. I can’t fix the fact that I trust very few people. And I can’t fix pretty much everything currently wrong.

I got called into the appointment but TD (psych nurse) wasn’t down  yet so I sat down with the psychiatrist and told her that I just wanted to say what I had to say without interruptions because I would probably get confused or lost if I got interrupted. I began by saying how in the last appointment I felt like I wasn’t listened to and how I know she said about the hallucinations being dissociative ones but I said I felt like all hallucinations are warrant for concern and how I didn’t feel the fact I was still depressed on medication was taken seriously enough. Which is about the time TD came in and I then said how I had stopped the medication and how I tried to commit suicide which brought out the notepads and they began to ask me questions about how the hospital dealt with it and I told them I didn’t tell them but they were still pushing and I don’t really understand why because I lied to them saying the overdose was an accident so they aren’t expected to maintain a standard of care relating to a suicide attempt.

They then went on to assure me they didn’t take it seriously and they were concerned and we discussed how unlike previous times this was more impulsive and that unlike previous times I wasn’t relieved I failed this time, I was pissed I failed. I learned that impulsivity in bipolar can happen in all mood states whereas I thought it was just a manic end of the spectrum thing. They were concerned about my that.

Something interesting I was asked was: did I feel I needed to be in hospital the days leading up to the suicide attempt. I said I did because I did. I mean I guess maybe the more recent suicide episodes are different to the ones before in that I just really want to die. There is no light at the end of the tunnel for me. I’m just really sick of living. She asked how I felt now (as in at that moment) and at that moment I didn’t feel too bad; they thought i was angry. I wasn’t really angry more than I was frustrated.

The outcome was that I am being put on lithium and there is apparently a lithium registry? Which I don’t even know…  Which means before that I need an ECG and a blood test. Bring on blood tests every 3 months *sighs*

How I’m feeling right now? Just bad. Like I can’t even describe it but good things happened and I think I will probably focus on that.

The New Year

I feel like writing a post about a suicide attempt and then not writing another post for a while is rude and disconcerting so this is the post that will let you know my current state of mind and what I think and hopefully it’s not all ramblings. But this isn’t a structured post. Not that my other ones are either but this is just me writing what’s flowing through my mind.

I find it difficult to find someone I can actually talk to. See I’m offered help a lot. Promise of an email or whatever and it never comes through which is fine and I’ll tell you why: I won’t know the truth. In the past I’ve told my dad, my ex girlfriend and my best friends how I’ve felt. I don’t know how to describe exactly what it’s like but with  my dad the reaction I get is pretty much the equivalent of someone sticking their fingers in their ear and going “nyah nyah nyah” at the top of their lungs. With my ex girlfriend, who by the way made the offer to be there for me, it’s more like talking to cleverbot since I can predict the answer I’m going to get before I get it and those two responses are: “Oh okay” and “that sucks” and with my best friends which is mainly EC and KE, they try – God bless them do they try but it’s difficult since we’re in a 2-days-between-responses type relationship so two days later they’re overreacting about the suicide attempt I’m trying to put behind me but they’re not always great at it and my thing is that I’m usually pretty open with my mental illness if I plan on keeping you in my life. I do this because I form attachments fast and I put people on a pedestal but then my first depressive episode or seriously bad depressive episode, at least, and I run the risk of “this is not what I signed up for”.

I met my ex girlfriend and my two best friends via tumblr where I’d pretty much laid bare the problems I had, in fact one of my best friends found me from a post I made about the psychiatric hospital I stayed at and so there were no tricks. No hidden secrets. They were getting  a mentally ill, sometimes suicidal friend. My dad, just by virtue of becoming a parent was signing up to that as well. When you have kids you sign up to any disability they have and any sexuality they have or gender. When you have a child you sign up to all of it and sometimes you get what you want and sometimes you don’t but they’re your children. Don’t have kids if you can’t imagine having a bipolar daughter or a gay son or a trans child. Just don’t.

Anyway, so this wasn’t a “I didn’t sign up for this situation” and if I have a friend, like I did in college who signed up for the reasonably nice, sweary, hoodies wearing girl but a few months later got the bipolar girl who later turned into some she didn’t even recognize and at that point I felt the friendship slipping away and I let it. I don’t believe that people should stay with someone when something they didn’t sign up for happens – at least not when that someone is me.

Which is why it immensely pisses me off that I still do not have anyone to fucking talk to. Every negative feeling I have shushed or quelled. I don’t want these feels to be quietened down – even though I know you mean well. I want them to be validated. God, I’ll even say it. I want help.

It’s very likely I’m to blame. I went off my medication because I didn’t like the depressed episodes whilst on the medication and it is my fault because I’m stubborn and childish and when my psychiatrist ignored me when I told he feeling depressed still and maybe subconsciously I did it as a ‘fuck you’ to her but that’s a massive maybe. I know I thought at the time that stopping them would allow hypomania to come back and I don’t know whether I’d still feel as awful on the medication as I do off it because not all of these symptoms are bipolar – some are psychological and as much as it pains me to admit it, it’s true. Whether I’d be abused or not, I don’t think anyone could have gone through the last 3 years I’ve had and not come out with some psychological issues. I mean isolation alone is enough to drive any one mad.

I go between wanting to kill myself and wanting to smash my surroundings and I go between the two a lot as my broken glasses which I threw at the wall will prove. I’m irritable and depressed and in pain (physical and mental) and I’m worrying the wrong people.

So my plan? Well the way I see it is I have two options: self implosion or calling my psychiatrist. Believe me I had to give it some serious thought.

At the end of it though I came out with that I will have to call my psychiatrist and see how that goes.

Suicide Attempt – no. I’ve-Lost-Count

I tried to commit suicide – again.

As you know for many months I’ve been depressed. On or off medication. I’m always so fucking depressed. I self harm and that makes no difference, I drug myself with diazepam snorting or orally taking which I eventually stopped because that didn’t help. I’m also so goddamn lonely. I’ve known for a while I’m at tipping point and having somewhere safe was kinda my saving grace.

What happened?

The laptop I currently have is shit so I ordered a new one and I, because of my social anxiety, wanted it to be delivered but my dad said to just reserve it and we’d pick it up. So I did. When we went to pick it up, it wasn’t ready so I wandered off to the laptops to try and find the one I was purchasing (I found it), my dad eventually joined me and I asked how long until the laptop was ready and he said he didn’t know and that one of the floor guys was going to bring it to us. So this guy did and he took it to my dad and my dad called me over and the guy asked me questions like what I was using it for? My social anxiety probably made the annoyance I felt more profound but I reserved the laptop – I know what I’m looking for. He then asked me if I wanted them to set it up and I said no because I just wanted to leave. The guy then said it’s an extra £35 for this back up USB thing (I said no) and then my dad started going on about how “that’s how they get you” and I told him I’d explain what it is in the car and I was getting short now because he wouldn’t stop. Once we were out of the shop and in the car I was okay.

We got home and my dad carried it in and placed it on the table and began to unwrap it. That pissed me off because number one: it’s my fucking laptop that I paid for so what gives you the right to undo it? Number 2: they were undoing all the leaflets and wires and then I had to carry it all upstairs when I could have just taken it inside the box so I asked why they opened it when it would have been easier to carry in the box and my dad began to put it away so I asked him why and then I wandered to the stairs whilst muttering “I’m not in the mood” which is when he violently started putting everything back in the box. My brother left after that knowing an argument was starting. To sum up the argument – my dad told me I made everyone’s life hell and that I had to pack my bags because I’m moving out.

Magnified since I left school, I feel like a burden to everyone. That I’ve changed into a short, snippy, bitter person with no appreciation for others and I hate myself. I mean not just hate my figure or some physical attribute of myself – I hate my personality. Then my dad who was essentially throwing me out brought to mind how my mum did the pretty much exact same thing. One parent does it, it’s bad parenting. Two parents do it, you’re the problem. Not getting any replies from my friends when I asked if I could stay with them and homeless shelters looking like a bad option and not wanting to inflict myself on others I grabbed the handful of queitapine, a blood pressure tablet of my dad’s and a diazepam to help me sleep and took it all.

My brother came in after a while and I was slurring my words and at that moment my dad returned from returning the laptop. They took me to hospital (with great difficultly since I could barely stand) and I ended up throwing up in the car park. Once we got in, my blood pressure was taken and I was given an ECG – my heart was showing problems. I then had to wait to be seen and I lied and said I took the overdose by accident (doctors believe any fucking thing you tell them). With great difficult they put in a line for a saline drip and took some blood (out of my wrist since they couldn’t find a vein) but then they said they wanted me to stay over night for observation, we’d already been there 4 hours it was getting to 8pm. I discharged myself then.

I regret that action. I’ve had chest pains all day and I don’t know if it’s anything serious and I just don’t like being on my own. I hate myself for company. Think of sitting in a room with your worst enemy but you can never ever be away from them – they’re everywhere.

I’m obviously alive but I in no way want to be but I’m so much of a screw up I fail at my own fucking suicide. Now I’m just in this place where I want to be dead but I don’t want to be the one doing the killing. I don’t think I’m safe on my own any more and I don’t have the mental capacity to be with others. I’m just so fucking depressed. There is literally no other way to describe it. I just want to die. Living with me is a pain I wouldn’t wish on anyone and I probably thought this last year but I wish last year me with the fancy personality would come and punch no personality in the face. Then I wish present self would punch like 13 year old me and then present me goes and punches future me in the face. Then future me punches present me in the face. I feel like that would be a good recompense and also an awesome movie.

Stuck in the dark abyss, I went and drank half a can of lager and felt a little less depressed.

I have no plans on killing myself again. I swear.

Holiday Blues

I’ve noticed that there are two different types of holiday blues. The ones before Christmas and the ones after. The one before Christmas tends to be worse up until Christmas day with a rapid decline in the ‘blues feelings’ boxing day and it continues to decline up to someone normal baseline or there are the people who like the general feeling of Christmas and once it’s over, they kind of realise that the year is just downhill after this and they get the blues. I’m in the latter group, I spent Christmas day (and the days before) hypomanic and now I think I’m just on a slow spiral into depression and maybe I’m not suffering so much from the holiday blues as I am from depression itself but I’d rather entertain the idea that there will be some epiphany where I realise that just because the holidays are over doesn’t mean things still can’t be great and then I snap out of the ‘blues’ and I’m okay.

Unfortunately this is not how it tends to work. I’ll be depressed until hypomania takes over again. I’ll be hypomanic until I get depressed again… the cycle continues and some days the cycle is nice. It gives me some variety – helps me break up my days. When it’s hypomania into depression – not so nice.

I’m sad Christmas is over because it means that the new year is coming and in previous years that wasn’t so daunting. It was basically a mark in my life saying “you’re over the hump for this school year” and that a few more months and the school year was over and congrats! One year closer to the end of school. The way I left school was kind of anti-climatic and there was no ‘end’ – everything just kind of fizzled out and the year kind of dredged on and I lived on the hope that I’d find something or something would come along and that’s ‘fix’ everything for me and it’s childish hope and I know in the back of my mind that the real world doesn’t work like that. The real world sucks and there’s nothing to be done about it. But I still hope that something will come along and it’ll help me sort something in my life out.


I recently learned that I prefer emails and writing blogs to instant messaging. I never thought I’d say that. But I find that if you write an email or a blog then the conversation is really changed. In an email, at least the ones I write, the first paragraph of a reply is the reply to your first paragraph so there could be multiple topics in the email but they can all be answered to and with a blog, the comments are usually about the blog that has been written. I find that either I’ve lost my personality, my ability to make conversation or people have become just plain ignorant and so instant messaging is boring and the conversation is easily changed.

Which is kind of my problem. I’ve been (at least internally) begging for someone to talk to but honestly, it doesn’t seem like anyone cares. I tell a mentor on a chat website specifically there to help with mental health problems, she will change the subject to herself. I talk to my friend an “okay” is the best I can get. My dad either doesn’t listen so he can pretend it doesn’t exist or he just does not care but when I do my next stupid thing and let’s face it, I have a next stupid thing in my future. I bet you Every. Single. One. of them will say “Ohh why didn’t you say something?” – I tried. You just wouldn’t listen.

Anyway, so I did a grown up thing on Wednesday. A Christmas party. I haven’t had a Christmas party in years and they were usually last day of school and was just Christmas music and snacks – they were rockin’ times. But this was an adult Christmas party which even though at a pizza place was still a big thing for me. For the days beforehand I was honestly stressing, unfortunately when I get stressed I jump immediately to the ultimate exit clause – suicide. But I kept putting myself down, calling myself a coward and in a twisted way it worked. I didn’t do anything but suicidal idealization is pretty much my only coping mechanism at the moment.

The Christmas party went better than expected. The social interaction wasn’t so tough but it reminded me of when I was younger and I was quite literally the life of the party but I got through it and well, the eating in front of people was hard but mainly because IBS (Irritable Bowel Syndrome) means that I can’t eat large meals and this was a full sized plate pizza so I used the skills I developed when I had an eating disorder to make it look like I had eaten more than I had… Turns out there can be a healthy-ish use to those skills.

For desert I was full but had one scoop of vanilla ice cream and when the leader asked what we had she called mine boring and I’ll explain my problem with that…

I then had to walk home whilst everyone else was picked up and it kind of annoyed me because when I was 17, I couldn’t walk home alone. Wasn’t allowed out in the dark basically. But now I’m 18, no concern. But it’s whatever.

Now my problem with the desert this is ???? I don’t actually know I was just so personally offended and it was a kinda drastic thing to get offended about and this isn’t the first time so recently I’ve been questioning my bipolar diagnosis. Whether it is bipolar or borderline personality disorder or both? There’s a massive overlap in symptoms though but just my recent problems with relationships kind of highlights the possibility of me having it and plus all the “dissociative” symptoms that keep getting tossed off as PTSD and yet when I google to find ONE sources backing it up even one lousy forum post – nothing. I thought about bringing it up with my psychiatrist but some days bipolar is a better fit. It is possible to have both but BPD’s main treatment option is therapy and I won’t do that so I guess in this case: what’s in the label?

Right now I haven’t slept and I really want to but I have plans with my brother since he has a half day of school (go to mcDonalds because we live the wild life) and no matter what time I go to bed or what time I get up, I still can’t go to sleep until about 11am now. Which is why I apologise for how this might sound because I am working on four hours sleep about 19hrs ago so I’m tired as hell.

Christmas Prep

I’ve always wondered whether I am a good person? How do you even quantify that? If you ask me right this second whether I consider myself a good person I’d say I wasn’t and I’d probably end up on Santa’s naughty list and not the adult naughty list where they get vibrators and edible underwear for Christmas but the naughty list where a lump of coal is in your future.

I haven’t been having a good time recently. Following with my close friends I got into the Christmas spirit November 1st and I ordered my Christmas presents for people and I thought about the decorations but recently that ‘Christmas Spirit’ switch in my brain has been put from the on position, past the off position and into the “let’s blow it up position”. Call it an episode, I have been. But this particular episode was ‘switched on’ by some perceived slight comment from my brother to which I gathered up all the presents I bought (which ended up being a lot of money since some were bought during mania) and put them in the bin and then set about taking down the very ill looking tree to which my dad stopped me and I went up stairs in a temper and ripped open a friend’s present to me where the deal was we’d open it on skype together.

After about 2 hours I calmed down but I’d already told my friend I’d opened it and you can’t get back a message once you’ve sent it. I was worried she’d be mad at me so I went onto a chat support site and let me just sum up by saying that the women I talked to on there is really not helpful and she’s supposed to be a mentor – it’s kinda pathetic to be honest with you.

I then sent my friend, EJ (the same EJ who is my ex-girlfriend) an apology and she accepted it. I was glad.

Anyway, as you know I have odd hours for sleeping and so when I woke up this afternoon I was feeling too worn out from sleeping to read it so I waited until that evening and we discussed it and it was okay. Now here’s where things start to go bad again.

So for probably two months, EJ has had a problem with some girl at school and it recently flared up and for about 2 weeks I have been listening to her rant everyday. She’s rang me at least 4 times about it, each time lasting over an hour. That’s four hours of my life I’ll never get back. Facebook and over the phone. But we’re trying to be friends and I like to think I try my best to be a decent friend and I listened.

My mood has been up and down but usually the ‘down’ bit is as exactly as the title describes. Down. Depressed. Withdrawn. I’d withdraw from my friends if I felt bad but recently paranoia has reared it’s ugly little head and that tends to get me riled up and so I went to her and told her about what happened the night before with Christmas and that I was near killing myself last night and you know the fucking reply I got?! “that sucks”

“That sucks”.

“That sucks” is a reply for when you spill cola all over your brand new dress. “That sucks” is a reply for when you fall over and twist your ankle. “That sucks” is the reply for when your phone breaks. “That sucks” is not a reply for someone admitting they’ve been feeling suicidal.

I don’t admit I feel suicidal on a one to one basis often. I will write about it on my blogs but I will rarely even message someone and say “I feel suicidal” or “I’ve been feeling suicidal” or “Last night I felt suicidal” and this is a goddamn reminder as to why I should keep it to myself.

The fact is I’ve been feeling badly about this friendship since it begun and she proves over and over again it’s time to end it but I’ve never been good at getting myself out of toxic relationships as evidenced by my family.

How am I feeling right now at 3:45am on 12/12/14? Down. But just depressed down. I feel like the moods which have begun to cycle every few hours have evened to every few days.

I’ve been thinking about this documentary I watched about bipolar disorder called “Of Two Minds” on netflix and it’s triggering so I wouldn’t watch it if you’re in a sensitive place but it takes a look at a group of people with bipolar disorder at various stages of their treatment. Some are just the families and one family is of a girl who committed suicide but there is this Jewish family (or at least the mother is Jewish as far as I know) and the daughter who has bipolar now writes magazine articles and youtube videos about it. Her name is Liz Spikol and she is pretty much my idol now. She’s pretty, she’s clever, she bisexual and she writes magazine articles that can include her disorder and I think it’s pretty inspirational.

Another burning question on all yours minds is probably: what, if anything, are you doing for Christmas?

Well my original plan was to become Santa (or at least one of Santa’s elves) but I’m kind of at the stage of just burning the Christmas tree down and making a pillow fort and never coming out of it. But instead I have to go to a pizza Christmas dinner next Wednesday, my brother’s are coming down (and possibly my niece) two weeks 21st December, maybe 22nd which means I have to clean my fucking room because my niece will probably want to come up. Pretend to be jolly Christmas day and see if I can find an alcohol I really like and then get wasted on it but that’s an “if I can find nice tasting alcohol” because so far I haven’t. How about you?

As for my overall mental state. Not great. Still hallucinating but I can’t talk to anyone about that. Depressed and can’t talk to many people about that. Angry and paranoid but that doesn’t really need to be talked about because I so overtly express it. Dissociation hasn’t been as bad but I don’t know if that’s a good thing. Maybe to survive I need to go through life with bouts of dissociation to escape reality and survive.

I don’t know if I’ll make it through Christmas in one piece.

13 pounds and counting.

I used to be 10 stone 7 pounds. I am now 9 stone 8 pounds and I’m happy with that. I’ve dropped a size in clothes (which now means I have 3 completely different sizes in my drawers) and whilst I am happy about the weight loss, I’m also not. See my goal was never to lose weight, it was to tone my core and arms so I was stronger which I feel I needed in a house full of men 7 or more inches taller than me. But weight loss like this makes me apprehensive due to my history with anorexia. I will keep working out but once I lose a few more pounds I will have to make effort to balance out eating and exercise.

Which is easier said than done, I’m actually pretty ill at  the moment but I don’t know what with and whilst I’m used to lethargy, I’m not a big fan of the pain which is in my legs and my lower abdomen and plus some other worrying symptoms that are prompting a return to the doctors. I went to the doctors on Wednesday mainly due to my eyes. You see they had begun intermittently hurting whenever I moved them and I knew it was muscular but I wasn’t dealing with it. Turns out I have dry eye syndrome made worse by:

*drum roll*

The meds.

They dried out my eyes and now despite the fact I’m off my meds, I have to use artificial tears to keep my eyes lubricated. They are a pain in the arse to get in but luckily it’s like a gel so I can pick them up and place them into my eyes which isn’t better but it’s better than wasting drops. The doctor also gave me some antibiotic + zinc cream for my spots (cystic acne to be more precise) which I was so grateful for because most doctors just say “stress” and expect you to magically be able to cure it. The spot cream does work but new spots keep appearing all the damn time and the eye drops are pretty good. I have to wear my glasses a lot often now because whilst my long distance is better, my short distance not so much.

But despite all this illness, I still do exercise. I mean so far it’s just weights and stretches but I can lift heavier things and my thighs are slightly smaller so I’m calling it a win for now. I probably could do more exercise but I’m just in pain too much at the moment to do so.

That was my doctors appointment. My psychiatrist appointment was on Thursday.

Now I’ve been having a bit of a problem with what’s real and what’s not. I know I’m typing this and that this is going out into the ‘real’ world. But I recently had been hallucinating that I had been having conversations with people that weren’t there and it took me a long time to realise that these hallucinations weren’t real and I only figured that out when I brought up a conversation with my dad and he didn’t recall it and at first I thought it was weird but he’s just had a birthday, he’s getting old and a few days later I brought up a conversation with my brother that we had about his school and it was in relation to psychology… as in the subject but I guess I never made the connection between that conversation and the facts until I spoke to my brother and the fact is: we were talking about him studying psychology in the present tense. Not future tense. He wants to study psychology for A levels next year but we spoke about it like he was studying it now and he knew the subject matter. Subject matter further than I went before I dropped out. Which is when I knew.

So i Googled a little and hit across delusions and did you know there is such a thing as delusional guilt? See, I thought it was a thing that didn’t apply to me but the fact is for the last few weeks I have picked through my past and found every damn thing I did wrong and became so overwhelmingly guilty I started writing letters to people including my mum, a girl who I (along with many others) was a bystander to them being verbally bullied and I only mention the many others because shouldn’t they also be feeling the same?, my older brother and older sister and even apologised (face to face) with my younger brother for what happened with our mum like it was my fault she abandoned her 2 children in the park? It makes sense to feel guilt afterwards but it’s coming up to that being 6 years ago. Why the overwhelming guilt now? I thought maybe it could be delusional guilt or maybe it’s not? I have no idea.

I was going to admit I hadn’t been taking my meds in the appointment but I doubted that it was causing anything since my mood hadn’t been in either extremes. They brushed past the hallucinations and said they were “dissociative hallucinations” and not a psychotic symptom and the way they brushed off my hallucinations and just added “dissociative” to a symptoms – just like they do with every symptoms I have now – I was pissed off and didn’t ask further so I googled. Dissociative hallucinations are apart of … well.. dissociative identity disorder (or DID) which is the new name for Multiple Personality Disorder and whilst apparently you don’t have to have two very obvious different personalities hallucinations can be apart of a different personality?

I can’t find dissociative hallucinations for PTSD. Just that it is psychotic symptom. But the thing is, whether it’s DID or bipolar or PTSD or some other mental illness that no one has thought of yet. A hallucination is a hallucination and should be treated seriously… so why was I not? How come I could be brushed past? My first and most obvious answer is that they didn’t believe me. I mean, should anyone especially mental health professionals ignore it when someone says they are seeing things that aren’t there?

This is why I do’t tell anyone the truth about how bad my condition is because they wouldn’t believe me and I think it’d hurt a lot more for my dad or brother or ex or friend to say they didn’t believe me. It hurts they don’t believe me. Last time I tell them the truth again.

Though, I was debating calling them and setting up another appointment and telling them just how offended I was and why nothing was to be done about the hallucinations? Or the insomnia that the psych nurse thought needed attending too? I could wait for the appointment in 3 months but I always say I’ll wait but I’m done waiting for stuff like this. I convince myself of this now but unconvince myself later but I’ll keep you updated on that situation.

In other news, I am dyeing my hair pink. My hair is currently bleached all ready for the pink.

I’ve been buying Christmas presents. I got my brother a new phone and an SD card, a zombie book in a walking dead situation and a rayman game for the xbox one. For my dad a few boxsets of dvds, a clock and some cash and some other stuff that I forgot. My friends got necklaces and bracelets and a notebook. EJ got a fox toy, EC got a pic of us from a convention and my niece got a bracelet, teddy and a notebook. These are some pretty nice looking notebooks though. I’ve spent quite a bit tbh and call some of it impulsive but let me have a little happiness this year… you know… sober.

A friend challenged me to a “who can stay awake the longest” and another friend joined in. They live in America, were several hours behind me and I won! I mean I was up until 9am but I’m an insomniac. Like they were going to win! Least my insomnia was good for showing up and beating two pesky boys.



I always feel like I’m looking for something that’ll make me feel less empty. I’ll listen to music and I’ll read books and I’ll spend hours hopelessly searching for other books and music and a TV shows to make me feel better and for short amounts of time it works. If it didn’t work at all I probably wouldn’t continue but things works for short amount of time. A Fall Out Boy song. A book with a character that relates to me. Same with TV. But I know, deep down, that what I’m looking for isn’t on amazon or itunes but it’s a friend. A real life, good friend. It sounds simple but it’s really not.

I’ve found that the people who get where I’m coming from also tend to be mentally ill themselves because I find it’s those people who, like myself, are the most lonely. But I don’t interact with many people like that. In fact I don’t interact with many people period. The people I do interact with, I am terrible at keeping up contact. Even more so now.

Which then, when you get into the state I am currently in, begs the question: do I deserve friends? I mean I care about everyone I talk to but I don’t keep up with them as best I could. But people deserve better.

I’ve been thinking about the mental hospital recently, I try to avoid thinking about it because I feel a lot of guilt for leaving. I know that had I had stayed I’d probably be a lot happier now and I would have made some sort of friends, I mean really it was my perfect setting. People who were just like me. Teenagers who self harmed and were depressed and listened to the same stuff I did and realised the use of trash day time television.

Every so often for short amounts of time, I lose hope over whether I will actually feel better and I don’t always mean conditionwise because even in my stable periods (as small and as fleeting as they are) I still feel empty and sad but what I realise during those moment is how important hope is. Hope comes and goes but without hope we would seriously give up and that would be one of the worst things to happen.


Winter is coming. Winter is here.

So daylight savings time is upon us. 26/10/14 at 2am the clock went back. Welcome to winter. The worst season for mood disorders because even if you don’t experience Seasonal Affective Disorder, winter worsens depression because we aren’t getting as much light or vitamin D. But we have to brave through it, mood disorder comrades.

For about a month, I’ve been feeling really down. I have this unhealthy thing where when I get stressed I get anxious and depressed and immediately begin fantasying about killing myself  with whatever is around at the time and just knowing that I’d feel relief once I did it. Evidentially I’ve never followed through on that otherwise you would not be sitting around reading trash. But I wouldn’t say it was a particularly helpful coping method.

I think one of my biggest problems is that I’m extremely lonely. The people who I class as people I can talk to are people I talk to maybe once or twice a week now that everyone is busy and the people who I talk to everyday, I just don’t feel I can talk to them.

It’s hard to look your dad in the face and say “I feel like killing myself” and maybe that is self-imposed but you know which one is not self-imposed? My ex. Said they wanted to stay friends and it worked for a little while and now they just obviously do not care any more… especially since I told them that I didn’t want to get back together like they wanted and the reason for that is because they don’t care. They’re too afraid of upsetting me than to say anything real. It’s the classic “hey. hey. u ok? yeah you? yeah thanks. what you up to? nm you? nm. :). :). *end*” though sometimes all they ever do is moan about their life.

I think it’s hard to connect to people who don’t fully understand the struggle you go through and the victory of the little battles such as something simple like getting out of bed in the morning. Which is probably why I feel lonely. Like I’m fighting this uphill battle with nobody who fully gets it.

I’ve been feeling just really bad. I mean it’s just this inner pain that comes with depression.. I mean I’ve quit pretty much any enriching aspects of my life due to depression and going to voice group and girls group is pretty much the only things I’m still doing and that only adds up to 3hrs and 30 mins a week.

I’ve made so many posts describing these feelings, you must be feeling like you’ve read this 1000 times and I wish I could say something good has happened. But it hasn’t. I’m sorry.

The 24 hour job

Sometimes I wanna quit this all and become an accountant now
But I’m no good at math and besides the dollar is down

I don’t think I mentioned my month long, unsuccessful job hunt. Well it briefly came to an end after finding a job ad for a printing firm on Facebook. I got asked for an interview and well… that’s when things began to go not so well.

So the people running it were a husband and wife and they seemed perfectly nice… just unsure of what the job was actually supposed to be or the pay but since they had told me the hours, I didn’t mind so much that they didn’t know the ins and outs of the job. It was either 9-2pm or 10-3pm which both worked perfectly for me. Anyway, so I had the interview on the Monday and when I hadn’t heard by Wednesday night I figured it was safe to assume I wouldn’t be working until Monday since they don’t do weekends because you can’t just call a new hire in 30 mins after they’re supposed to be there and making them work on a Friday didn’t make much sense… did it? Well, that’s what they did.

It doesn’t take me long to reset my sleep schedule but for the time being I was going sleep between 4-7am… Thursday I went to sleep around 6-7am meaning that I wouldn’t wake up until probably 11am and then not get out of bed for a few more hours but my dad and I had made plans to go to, I don’t know what you’d describe it as but maybe the best word is another county, that was 30 mins away from where we lived. We said we’d go at about midday, so I got up at 11:40am and because I know if I sit in front of my phone or computer I wouldn’t be changed in time because I’d keep convincing myself I’d have time so I changed and before I went to do my hair (this is all unnecessary detail) I decided to check my phone at 11:50-ish am and a text was on it.

It was sent at 10:39 am that morning asking me to come in ‘today and tomorrow’ (meaning Thurs and Friday) from 10-2pm apparently I was on a trial basis for a few days so maybe my hours could have increased. Anyway, so I went in and I was told what to do. This job was a printing distributor, they printed business cards and leaflets etc and my first job was cellotaping the card holders and well I cut up my thumb pretty bad on the rough edge of the cellotape holder because I was trying to do it as fast as the boss who had shown me.

My next job was typing in addresses on Parcel Force and lemme tell you, that job is actually pretty hard because most people’s addresses that they give to people aren’t what Parcel Force has. I have gained a lot of sympathy for them when people tell them about wrong addresses on their packages. I then had to print the address labels out.

I then had to fix up boxes which I couldn’t do so this guy helped me do it and then we packed the boxes and put the labels on them and I went back between that and writing addresses. I also had to make tea which I thought I sucked at making but they said it was nice (could have been a lie).

So the job was pretty much down. Anyway, it was getting up to 2pm and I was in the middle of a job and my dad was picking me up but I figured he wouldn’t mind waiting 15 minutes anyway when I’d done, the wife gave me more addresses to print of labels for. So at 2:30pm I asked when I ended and she said 4pm, I said “what?? no I was told 2pm” and she said “could you stay ’till 3pm” and I didn’t think I could say no. So I stayed but I was pissed off. Then she asked whether from now on I could work 10-4pm everyday which is basically a full time job (because it added up to 35hrs which according to google is full time) when I was originally told it was part time. There were two positions – 1 temporary work, one permanent part time… no idea which of the two I got there. Plus I had not been told about pay or made to sign any form of contract including no health and safety forms. Now considering when I was 15 parents had to sign a health and safety form so you could go to the cinema with the school, I thought that was a little scary especially since I was working with heavy boxes and big cutting tools.

So all Friday night I was stressing out about it, I mean how come they could just keep changing my hours and days (supposed to be 10-2pm Tues to Fri) with no warning without giving me a contract or telling me my wages or anything that would make the work legit. Now when I become stressed, I tend to simultaneously become anxious and depressed and that jumps to suicidal ideation and when you think about it for too long you begin think of actually doing it so I figured the best thing to do for both my mental and physical well being was to quit my job. Welcome to the 24 hours job.

I hadn’t signed any contract so all it took was a text and since I am an actual coward I took my sim card out my phone with no wish to ever read the response. I guess I will one day when there’s been no backlash but for now, sweet denial.

Happy 18th Birthday to me.

Happy 18th birthday to me.

So this birthday has been good and bad.

Bad first: got into an argument with my dad and it’s over the usual crap I have talked about so many times before so it was nothing new.

Presents: a Harley Quinn necklace from KE. EJ gave me a soft toy called Spot which is an alien with like 3 eyes, purple nail varnish, a fox necklace, an 18 badge and this nicely decorated box that she packed it all in. My two aunts gave a combined total of £75 in cheques which are yet to be cashed because my dad said he would do it but hasn’t. £40 from my older brother and £10 from my younger which combined enabled me to do this:


Yes, that is a tattoo. A permanent one. Happy birthday to me.

My brother also gave me a chocolate orange egg. My dad said he’d give me £100 and a piece of jewellery to commemorate this day, I have gotten neither and I haven’t gotten a reason as to why…

The thing about today is I went in with the lowest of expectations and still ended up disappointed. I love the star and snowflake. Iffy to the moon and hate the sun. But I hate the real life sun so..
(( I will delete any anti-tattoo comments i swear I am not in the mood so dont bother writing them))

Getting the tattoo was a massive hassle because I picked the worst place to get to geographically speaking but I found out where the tattoo place near me is and I will be going there from now on.

Anyway, enough birthday negativity. Let’s move onto real life things.

Where to start…

My quetiapine has been upped to 200mg and well I haven’t been on it very long due to skipping doses but it was because we’ve been moving and I needed to get up early and quetiapine just made me tired.

I got PIP (Personal Independence Payment) which is England’s replacement for Disability Allowance and it’s tacky to say how much but it is more than I feel comfortable with. Call it internalised ableism but I feel like I don’t deserve it because what can I do with it? I wouldn’t leave the house if I had my way but as it is I go out voluntarily twice a week and what? I pay for diesel which is like £10 max a week. I am grateful I got it but I don’t know what to do with it. Maybe it’s best to save it up because sooner or later I’ll be paying for my doctors and my meds and everything so best to keep it until then.

I still go to my group. I love girls group. Love it. I don’t know how they’ll react to my tattoo, I just hope they aren’t judgemental and think less of me. I mean I don’t hold it against them so much because they’re kids. I just hope. Voice group I’ve only been to 3 times since 1 time was cancelled, 1 time I was ill, 1 time very few people turned up and then two times we’ve actually be on properly we’ve been writing anti-bullying slogans on balloons which is fun but to what end? Anyway, that’s going okay.

I tried to get out my comfort zone and volunteer with a bigger purpose so I figured; mental health. I mean that is what I’m really passionate about and so I found a place which is geographically awkward but I went for an interview and basically what I was supposed to be interviewing for was training dogs as emotional companions and they made me fill in this form and explained to me the job and then they began booking me in for other things that were not that. They booked me in for fundraising and admin and accounts?! I said specifically I couldn’t do that and then they basically emotionally manipulated me into staying for an art session when I said that I couldn’t do Tuesday and Wednesday’s anyway (the interview was on a Tuesday) and then when I was in the art session, the guy running the class kept criticising me. You’re working with mentally ill people, a lot of whom would be sensitive to criticism and you talk like that to them?

I hadn’t even been there 5 minutes and I’ve being over-used and criticised so I decided that it wasn’t for me and emailed them and told them how I thought the way they behaved was out of order and would not like to work with them any longer which they ignored by the way and harassed me with phone calls and nasty voicemails. So much for that.

I mean after getting out of there I felt so bad and suicidal and honestly I was looking for a busy road to jump in front of a car… I probably would have reasoned that jumping in front of a car is the worst way to commit suicide because it’s not just you you’re hurting, you wrecking someone else’s life and car but I was crying and really did want to kill myself and whenever I get very suicidal I will mimicking slitting my wrists and it’s unconscious reaction but the fact I still get depressed and suicidal really brings this whole bull shit ‘recovery’ thing into question. I mean recovery for one person means something different to another but for my dad, the psychiatrist – pretty much everyone – deems I’m in recovery when I’m easier to get out of bed and when I’m not having manic episodes. That’s great… going to do anything about the depression?… no?… okay.

I guess for now I’m just going to keep everything how it is. As much as my dad loves to be in denial about it, I’m not doing well and the suicidal thoughts are back. Let’s just keep things on an even keel.

Decisions, Decisions and Major Fuck Ups.

Where to start?

*warning long blog post*

An apology. For being away so long. Between my appointment, illnesses (physical and mental) I have just not had the time.

From here, I will try to do things chronologically but I will mess up and back pedal to past times. My last post was about the second opinion. From there I have had time to reflect. He is still a massive *insert list of expletives and negative adjectives*  but I’ve gleaned some things.

So my first thing was is ADHD inattentive type (which I think is the same as ADD so I’m going to call it that) is probably an apt diagnosis. I’ve had symptoms when I was a kid but since it’s not a necessarily disruptive disorder for teachers, it tends to go under the radar. I could see myself having it is what I’m saying. I would agree with that diagnosis but I should get a definitive yes or no tomorrow.

As for the detachment disorder, I have healthy relationships – sort of. I can form them and I can keep them but I have an issue with putting people on a pedestal and then demonising them at slights – well what I perceive to be slights. I do it a lot and I do hate the fact I do it and I tell myself to stop. Think rationally. Are these real or imagined? It works for all of 5 seconds but then I am back to scrutinising every social interaction. They’re not necessarily the healthiest but I rarely push people away for it.

That is what I’ve gleaned.

I had a hypo/manic (meaning waived between the lines of mania) episode shortly after the appointment but luckily I have my trusty mood disorder app to keep me in check… well that is until I start writing updates about how I don’t think trees should just be green. Where are the purple trees?? As well as monitoring my paper airplane-into a cup game. Then the usual suspects come on: fast speech, fast thoughts, implusiveness, fidgeting + restless, lots of energy, high sex drive, feeling self important, excessive spending – you know the usuals from my past. But obviously the massive issue of sleep. Going 24-48 hours of no sleep and then sleeping two hours when I do. That little sleep turns happy mania into irritability and aggression for a short time before it finds it’s way back to the happy side of mania. So it’s not the greatest of times always. But I was glad to see that despite the medication increase these episodes were happening still. Few and far apart but they were still spicing up this endless tawdry of my life at the moment.

I also ended up piercing the helix on one ear, the mis-piercing on my ear and two more piercings. Self pierced of course. But again – no infections. I think I should stop due to my luck will probably run out but I like how they look.


I had a flashback so it went away for a little while but came back. What alarmed me about this is that I have never had a forceful flashback when even hypomanic. Never. But there I was. Hypomania came back for a short time but it wasn’t as strong and eventually just filtered out rather than going on it’s usual quick descending crash into depression.

I went into a more stable state. Rather than deep depression I was on a 3-4 range. Which tends to be where I sit right now.

When I saw Miss D, during the hypo/manic  and told her what the second-opinion-psychiatrist had said she immediately said that ‘undiagnosing’ me with PTSD was wrong and that I do indeed have it (like I said). Of course I swerved off topics now and again whilst talking about him but I always found my way back to ranting about how bad he was. Never am I ever seeing him again.

Anyway, after the hypomania, nothing much happened for a few days. It was kinda dull.

Father’s day happened, DVD and liquorice and my baking are the usual.

I read comics.

Then we get onto the interesting things. How is CBT going you ask? I say, meh. I don’t think it’s helping (at least not yet) with the deep seated emotional issues relating to the past but I think it is sort of helping with my current issues. I have to cancel this week’s appointment. But I will get onto that in a minute.

My dad had a health check. Everything was fine what they measured. He won’t get his blood test results back for another week (so two weeks in total) and he has to take his blood pressure for a week. This Friday he has to go for a ECG (EKG idk).

Which brings us to this recent set of issues. School was brought up. Now from previous posts you know how pissed off I get when I have to make quick decisions. No, I need to know my options at least 3 days in advance so I can research and think and sleep on it. I don’t like indulging impulsive choices because whilst my gut has a tendency to be right. It’s not always so sometimes it’s best to use logic.

Obviously the big question on everyone’s mind: To school or not to school? 

Now, I do have a complete aversion to going back. I don’t want to. I feel school has given me everything it’s got to give me (including a lower self esteem than I would have had I not gone to school) and I want to do something else.

As you may (or may not as it was a long time ago) I wanted to go to connexions. Now my dad said we would the week after Miss D told us about it but then loads of stuff with the car happened (it broke down) and he had to sort out a new one and it was a whole thing. Next week, he was busy or something. Then I forgot – i think by this point the lamotrigine was increased and my memory has since left me. So now we are back at this cross roads.

As much as I like keeping the apathy stance (and I do), I know I need to choose something. I’d be happy just to work in asda or something all my life but my dad and others don’t want me wasting this precious intelligence I have. Well, it’s my intelligence and I can use it how I like. I don’t need my intelligence verified. Hell I don’t even believe I’m that intelligence (which is what a charming commenter on a previous post implied. They implied “yeah you’re sort of intelligent but not that intelligent but you should still do something with it – hence why I told them to get off my blog, patronising prick). But they want me to do something.

The problem is any time this conversation comes up, two things happen: My dad jumps up and tells me he doesn’t want to talk about it any more and to leave the room and the other is that I will end up holding back tears.

The other problem is that my dad likes to jump to conclusions. Since I’m still technically registered with my college (which I’m not sure about, there is sort of a grey area there) he thought I couldn’t go to connexions; that I wasn’t eligible. I am btw.

So my two paths of decisions were: college or nothing (with enforced, obvious condemnation and disappointment) which then became college or connexions – but not connexions in “I want to see you’re willing to do something kind of way” it was a “yeah you’re going to pick something from connexions and you’re going to like it”.

My dad kept saying he’d prefer me to go back to college which after a few times makes me lose my temper and I say “fine I’ll go” and he’ll go on about how I’ll just be miserable and am doing it half heartedly. Miserable and half hearted or probably content (when not at college) – you can’t have both.

So we settle to make an appointment at connexions. I have literally no idea of the choices. Anyway, so we get recommended to prospectus (idk if that’s how you spell it) and my dad makes an appointment with the receptionist for JE (the name of the person I’m seeing). Anyway, about 3 minutes after the phone call my phone starts ringing. Now due to wanting to shape some sort of life I can be happy with I deleted any one I no longer wish to be in contact with numbers. So since this call had a number I thought maybe it was some one I deleted but since I didn’t recognise it I asked my dad and he didn’t know by this time the call had finished. One missed call. Mobile number.

Now since I’m on pay as you go now, I was not calling back. So instead I texted: “who is this?” fair question since they rang me. I then took off to typing their number in on the internet. First google, then you can see if it’s a spam call. Then facebook to see if it’s linked with any one. Then tumblr to see if anyone had posted their number. Nothing. All I found out was the mobile phone carrier which is not helpful at all.

To explain the reasoning for this next bit, requires some putting-yourself-in-my-shoes-esque energy. As you know, I live in constant fear my mother will in one day get in contact with me which is why I’ve taken to calling myself Raven on every site except facebook (psst I will now refer to myself as Raven on this site too, sorry for the hassle). So every call that I don’t know makes me worry it’s her. My anxiety and somewhat paranoia over that lessened a bit… well until I realised it was my 18th birthday soon and I will no longer be protected by a no contact child order.

It’s not just that. Checking through my blog I never mentioned the stalking I’ve been suffering in recent months. I’ll give you the jist. Met a guy. Seemed okay. Found out he was in prison for ABH. Didn’t want to be judgement so didn’t let it lessen my opinion of him, however stayed cautious. He expressed romantic intention. We led to an argument when I didn’t express the same and he threatened to kill himself. We made up. Later argued again over him being racist, he threatened to kill himself, stab himself (sent me a picture of himself with a knife against his stomach) and told me I’d made him punch through a wall. I realised I had to end this before it went too far. Blocked him on any social media I knew him on. He lived in the city, I live in the country so no chance of necessarily bumping into each other. He then start emailing me again and again. Even sent me pictures of when he fell of his bike and was all bruised up. Playing on the empathy I have for everyone. I told him to fuck off but he manage to claw his way back into my good books which I hated him for but I realised (later on) that it’s because I have internalised abuse so much I don’t expect anything more. But he did it again. I blocked him but he kept sending me emails (which at this point I didn’t know how to block) and messages and trying to talk to my friends via facebook.

I debated calling the police but never did.

Anyway, I told him I was going to and told him he’d go back to jail. Sort of a lie but it made him stop. For a few weeks at least. Then he sent me an entire, I think it was Shakespeare, play in an email, several times. I can’t remember the name of the play though so I don’t know if there was supposed to be some hidden meaning. I then found out how to block emails and haven’t heard from him since.

Which brings us back to the story. Now those three things put together creates a lot of anxiety and paranoid when some one I don’t know calls.

Half an hour passes and no reply. I tell them that if it’s a wrong number, I don’t mind just please tell me. Then instead of saying who it was, they just say “I’m looking for [Raven]” and well, if you can’t introduce yourself then it just creates and anxiety. So I ask again: “who is this?” I then begin to really break down and shake and almost am having a panic attack as I was thinking it was my stalker. To sum up what I said I called the texter a: “fucking creeper”, “a fucking stalker” and I said I was going to call the police.

Irrational but anxiety and paranoia are rarely rational. They then tell me they are JE from prospectus and well, self hatred and embarrassment and pretty much all the emotions you’d expect me to feel come into play. I profusely apologise and tell her she can call me and apologise again over the phone. Hence the ‘Major Fuck Ups’ in the title. I mean the one person who is actually going to be given me constructive ideas I call a fucking creeper. Either the universe hates me or I have an urge to self destruct myself… Probably a bit of both.

Along the lines of this though, I’ve been thinking about what I enjoy. I used to want to be working in the field of psychology but I realised that I would be worn out from empathy. Seriously, I would. I also don’t have the bed manners for any other sort of health and social care. So I began to think of ‘low grade’ jobs. You know, stocking shelves, mopping floors etc. Basically working in a shop since you get to work on your own most of the time and occasionally with others and there’s flexibility. That’s the main thing I want. Flexibility.

I then spent about 5 hours on my tumblr blog HTML and thought maybe something in computers since then there is even less social interaction and technically there’s room to work at home. But we’ll see what Friday brings.

Another thing I realise that whilst my bipolar moods are mostly close to a realm of stability, my ‘normal’ moods tend to react in overdrive to situations and stimulus. Get in a slightly upsetting argument. Suicidal, angry and self harming. That is the degree to which this gets.

On a final note: I got an email today from someone who works for the campain, I don’t know whether you’ve heard about it called “You’ve got this” which is basically giving hope to people with bipolar and for every video they donate $10 to To Write Love On Her Arms charity (think it’s a charity). The link they gave me was: www.healthline.com/health/bipolar-disorder/youve-got-this and they apparently found me from my ‘science blog bipolar brain’ post, which is cool. Apparently they work for the marketing team of healthline. So if you’re feeling particularly brave, outgoing and wanting to help bipolar people like yourself. I think this would be a good campaign to do. I’ve considered do it, but 17? Not going to have many pearls of wisdom… plus the whole avoiding stalkers thing. I don’t know. Do any of you think you could do it?